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1979.
“Sorry son, but with a legacy like yours, you’re not someone the Navy wants in our ranks.”
“But sir I?”
“We don’t want a traitors son running around with our ships and jets, Mitchell, so you can kiss what ever dream you had of following in your old mans footsteps goodbye. Any application you make for the United States Naval academy or enlistments will be rejected, you’re a blacklisted name, doesn’t matter if you have Admiral Bradshaw’s recommendation as his pity foster kid. We, the United States Navy, want nothing to do with a rogue pilot’s legacy, we don’t want you setting sail into the sunset with one of our jets like your old man did in Nam’. Now get out of our sight kid.” A Naval recruiter commander snarled at the high schooler.
Peter Matthew Mitchell did his best not to flinch as he watched the recruiter continue to flag down his classmates, talking to them about employment opportunities the Navy could give them.
He looked disheartened and did his best to not break down there and then in the high school’s hall surrounded by hundreds of other classmates as they went between stands with representatives from many different colleges both in state and out of state.
There went his dreams of being a naval aviator and graduating from Annapolis like his old man and grandfather.
Unbeknown to Pete, someone had overheard the entire conversation.
“Ignore him son, I always found the Navy recruiters to be assholes.” A man said as he walked up behind the young adult, putting his hand on Pete’s shoulder.
“Sir?” Pete said as he spun around to face the man talking to him. There stood an officer in a blue dress uniform, two silver stars sitting on his shoulders as he looked at the young man standing before him, flight cap in hand.
“Major general Whitmore, united states air force. May I talk to you elsewhere son?” he introduced himself, getting Pete’s attention as the young man blinked.
“Yes sir.” Pete nodded
“You really are a legacy aren’t you son if the navy recruiter was calling you out there, what’s your name kid.” he spoke up, watching the smaller man nod.
“Peter Matthew Mitchell sir, I prefer Pete, Father was Lieutenant commander Duke Mitchell, a member of the VF-51 fighters squadron with the US Navy sir.”
“Well let me tell you something son, that my father, a WW2 veteran who flew in Europe told me and that I have told my own son. My own legacy kid granted he’s taken his mother’s surname, to distance himself from me for his own benefit. He’s already on his second year at the academy, a third gen air force officer.” The air force officer told the young adult with a sad look on his face.
“Sir?” Pete questioned, not understanding where the officer was going.
“Good pilots don’t go AWOL son. Come, we have much to discuss.” The man gave him a reassuring smile as he watched any expression fall of the kids face as he looked at him blankly before swallowing harshly as he looked away for a moment.
Pete nodded as both moved out of the hall, towards one of the high schools’ empty classrooms.
“Where you from originally son?”
“Phoenix, Arizona sir, then my father took us with him as he moved to Miramar where they were flying out of at the time.”
“Of course, son, it’s only natural, I have my own family too, they’ve followed me around the country from base to base. My son’s only two years older than you, but it was hard on him at first too, to move around so often.”
“Yeah well, Dad went AWOL, and my mother didn’t take it well. I was in the foster system within a year and for years I was thrown from house to house until I was placed with Admiral Bradshaw and his wife and son.”
“Admiral Bradshaw… Submarine?” the air force officer asked, getting a small smile on Pete’s face. He’d heard of the man through branch meetings a little bit ago. The man had climbed the ranks to become one of the highest ranked officers overlooking the submarine division of the pacific naval fleet.
“Yeah.” Pete nodded, a glitter of wonder and adventure sparking in his eyes.
“And you want to go air. I understand kid, it’s a freeing feeling being in the air. There’s nothing like it, its only natural for someone like yourself to hear the calling of the sky.” The sergeant smiled at him, “I see it in your eyes, your expression. You want to fly son?”
“More than anything, the faster the better.” Pete spoke wistfully, his expression said it all for the elder pilot before him.
“You want to chase after migs, drop bombs on targets, fly in some of the most dangerous conditions of the world, under fire, missiles and bullets, in dogfights that would make even the toughest of us scared.” The officer asked darkly as he narrowed his eyes, Pete looked him in the eyes in all seriousness, understanding what was being asked of him. He nodded proudly as he saw the seriousness of the young man before him as he straightened up, years of living with the Bradshaw’s seemed to have instilled some of the military lifestyle into the kid as he took on a rest parade stance. This was a kid who knew just what he was putting on the line, who knew that there was always a chance of him not coming home. This was a kid who wanted to serve, the officer noted as he smiled.
“Of course, sir.” Pete nodded, completely serious.
“The air force is your best bet son, fastest jets, biggest guns, stealth bombers, missions to every corner of the world, bases on nearly every continent. You want to fly, stick with us, we’ll make you the greatest aviator that the Navy doesn’t want. A clean start for the Mitchell legacy, son.” General Whitmore nodded with a smile as he saw Pete stiffen before him as wonder filled his eyes. “You could be the next aerial combat protégé to walk through the doors of Colorado Springs son, I see the makings of a great fighter pilot. Your talents would likely be overlooked within the Navy, they’d stagger you son, keep their eyes on you and do what they can to ground you before you ever got off the ground. We won’t make that mistake; I see someone with untapped potential, that can be the top predator of the skies. Choose the Air force son, we’ll help you become the pilot we both know you can be.” The major general smiled as he motioned for Pete to follow him.
They return to the careers fair in the hall as the air force officer hands him the necessary forms and applications to fill in for the air force academy. Before he was finished, he handed Pete his own card with a telephone number on it and an address.
“Any questions son, you can call me at any time or if the Navy household kicks you out, which I hope Bradshaw doesn’t, he’s a good man, but I have heard of it happening, there’s my own personal address son.”
“I… thank you sir, But why?”
“Because I see potential for a great man, and an even greater aviator. Son, I personally wish to support your journey to the academy. I see potential that I’ve seen in very few cadets over the years, those who had it have gone on to become the best aviators. I wish to see you too become the pilot I know you can become.” Major general Whitmore smiled at the young man before him as he handed Pete the business card and note.
“Thank you, sir.” Pete smiled as the major general sent him off.
“Its no bother son, I hope to hear from you soon. Feel free to ask away about air force life, we’re not the navy but I hope the difference doesn’t put you off. Good luck kid.” The officer smiled as he watched the kid disappear from the hall, looking intensely at the papers before him.
Pete Mitchell disappeared off into the corridors and moved into one of the empty classrooms, looking at the papers in his hands.
He had a lot of thinking to do if he wanted to become a pilot.
A Few months later.
“So, what, you’re going to break our promise? Have you been keeping me on for all this time? You’re going to the air force? Fuck you Pete I wish we’d never met. We should have thrown you out years ago Mitchell like everyone else. Your just as bad as your old man.” A taller man spat venomously as he threw a letter towards the smaller man in the room.
“NICHOLAS, that’s enough.” An older man stepped in between the blonde- and dark-haired young men in the living room.
There where three letters sitting on the coffee table, both addressed to the two high school graduates living in the house. They where academy letters, yet two of them weren't opened by there intended receiver.
“I told you nick, I did apply for the navy first, but they blacklisted me. I applied for Annapolis and went to the enlistment offices. I told you they didn’t want me but that I’d do my best to get in nick. I can’t do anything about that.” Pete tried to explain as he flinched away from the man, he had called brother until now.
“Pete, the Navy doesn’t just blacklist people for no good reason, perhaps there was a mistake.” Admiral Bradshaw looked pensive as he looked at his foster son.
“Yeah, he’s the mistake.” Nick Bradshaw spats angrily at the young man he had once called brother. He could hardly look at him, betrayed that Pete was going to the air force instead of the navy. He had promised him for years that they would both go to the navy together. Pete flinched hard, paling as he looked at nick in utter betrayal.
“NICHOLAS THAT’S ENOUGH, GO TO YOUR ROOM.” His father spat.
“No… no I… its okay.” Pete said as he backed out of the living room, disappearing upstairs. Nick only glared at the smaller mans retreating form, not noticing as his mother moved to stand before him.
A slap echoed through the room as Mrs Bradshaw slapped her son.
“I expected better of you Nicholas, I don’t care what you say, either of you. You’re apologizing to Peter, and you will support him. He’s had it hard enough over the years and he doesn’t need to lose the only family he has.” His mother sternly glared at him.
“He’s not my family anymore.” Nick spat as he stormed out of the room.
He didn’t realise he’d been heard as he stormed out of the house.
He disappeared off to his girlfriend Carol’s house as he vented to her about Pete’s betrayal, that he had gotten into the air force over the Navy. The blond slapped him and told him that Pete had it hard enough as it was. If the navy rejected his application and blocked him from enlisting, then there was possibly some truth to his claim of being blacklisted from the navy. That the navy was probably just trying to prevent another scandal from happening, even if it means stopping Pete from ever entering the service. His surname was disliked enough in the local area anyways by other navy families, Pete had it hard enough as it was, he didn’t need nick turning on him too. She told her boyfriend to go home and apologize to his brother and support him in his goal of going to the air force, that Pete would do the same for him going to Annapolis. After he took a walk along the beach, he needed to cool off before he returned home.
It was late at night before he decided to return home. He had been harsh on Pete, but his brother promised him he’d go to the Navy with him. Pete never told him about applying for the air force and the slightly older young man told him everything since they where fifteen. He set off from the beach as the sun was setting, slowly walking through the streets of North Island back towards his parents’ home. When he returned, he noticed Pete’s run-down old motorbike missing from its spot in the garage. Perhaps the other man did the same as him and took a drive to clear his head. It had been an emotional day. He shrugged at the missing bike before moving to enter the house, only to find his parents crying in the kitchen that evening.
“I hope your happy Nick.” His father sighed as he noticed his son return.
“Dad?” the young man asked in concern.
“Not now… I’m proud you got into Annapolis son, that’s true, but I’m not happy with how you treated Pete… neither was he. So, he’s left… your too late.” Admiral Bradshaw shook his head as he indicated to the opened bedroom door at the top of the stairs.
The room that Pete had stayed in ever since they took him in when he was thirteen. Nick’s eyes widened as he ran up the stairs to Pete’s room, the door lying open, finding the place quiet, tidy, and void of life. The blankets, and pillows having been stripped and stacked neatly on the end of the bed. Pete’s mementos and models of his favourite planes, jets and motorcycles missing, his cassette collection and Walkman gone from the bedside table it normally stayed on and engine and flight manuals missing, but what spoke volumes was the missing clothes from the wardrobe and important documents that Pete kept on his shelf.
Nick looked around the room in horror as he realized what he’d done.
Pete Mitchell was gone… and it was all Nicholas Bradshaw’s fault.
His brother was gone.
1988
“Lieutenant commander Kazansky, lieutenant Kerner, Lieutenant Bradshaw, Lieutenant Hiller, lieutenant piper, Lieutenant Williams, Lieutenant Neven and Lieutenant Wolfe, gather your gear, your transport arrives in two hours.” Commander Jardian ordered.
“Sir?” lieutenant commander Kazansky asked.
All the men had been placed together as a group, assigned back to Bradshaw and Hillers squadron after there successful mission to rescue the USS Layton two years earlier, deployed immediately the evening of there top gun graduation. Kazansky had become the leader for there little group, especially as he was given promotion to Lieutenant commander, the man being the one the rest of the pilots listened to and was able to keep goose and Loser under control.
“Your all being recalled to Top gun. A mission has come up that needs the best pilots the Navy has to complete it.”
“Yes sir.” The group nodded as they looked at one another.
“You’ve all be chosen by the top analysis for this mission. Not navy, but the top mission analysis that the United States has to offer, CIA, FBI, ARMY, AIRFORCE and Navy analyses all agree you’re amongst the best, the best four out of the top eight pilot/RIO groups in service to any US service branch.” The commander informed them, “This is a joint mission with the Air force boys. Do well and show those air force big wigs just whose boss. You hear me.”
“Air force, sir? Is that necessary.” Iceman asked as the Navy group looked at one another.
“I don’t know Kazansky, but from what I’ve been informed, they’ve pulled out the best of the best for this. You think you and Hiller are the best we have; your kills speak that. However, one of the other pilots you will be competing against for mission leader has 19 kills.” The commander exhaled as he looked at the file, the Navy Pilots and RIO’s paling at the thought.
“Sir? Nineteen?” Goose asked nervously, there was no way that was right. No pilot was that deadly.
“Yes, you’re flying with the “Maverick”, and his wingman “Hawk” the highest decorated fighter pilots the United States has seen since World War two and one of the youngest and most decorated pilots to ever reach the rank of major in the air force for a twenty-six-year-old, he’s a week older than you Bradshaw and you’re the youngest of this group. That pilot is the most respected and beloved they’ve had in there ranks in decades, so much so the air force has already renamed part of the air force academy after him. You will be training and competing against Lieutenant colonel Mitchell and his team to see who will become mission leader. You boys have the weight of the Navy’s reputation on your shoulder’s boys. Don’t let us down… and good luck. Wheels up at seventeen hundred. Dismissed.” The commander told them as he threw Ice the manila file to read over.
The Pilots and RIO’s scrambled to exit the room. They only had a few hours before they were shipped off from the USS enterprise and back to dry land. They hoped they had enough time to pack all their gear away. A few hours weren’t enough to pack up after months of deployment.
“FUCK!” Wolfe swore loudly as the group entered their quarters. the officers moving around the room as they quickly began to pull there sea bags out of there holds and pack there gear up.
“Wolfe?”
“IT’S MY FUCKING BROTHER-IN-LAW AND HIS WINGMAN.” The RIO cried out as he slammed his head repeatedly against his locker. the RIO let out a long gutteral groan as he set his head on his locker.
“Oof, Major Mitchell and Captain Floyd. Damn, this is going to suck.” Hollywood swore, he’d met Wolfe’s brother-in-law before when he joined his RIO in visiting their family on Edwards air force base, being introduced to Thomas “Hawk” Floyd and his Wingman/little brother Pete “Maverick” Mitchell.
“Mitchell?” Goose’s head shot up.
“Yeah, my sister Marilyn married into the air force, her father-in-law practically adopted some Navy legacy kid who’d been rejected from Annapolis around the same year you and Ice went Goose.” Wolfe said as he turned to face the guys, wincing. “He’s like two years younger than my brother-in-law but the kid’s apparently the best of the best, trained personally by General Whitmore. He was taking down instructors on his first proper dog fight training doing advanced manovers that we’ve only ever read about if what Hawk claimed is right. They had just returned from the gulf when I last saw them, Hawk had two airs to air kills and Maverick had nine confirmed air kills.”
“What’s his name? What’s his full name?” Goose asked Horsley as the guys looked at him, noticing the paleness of the RIO.
“Peter Matthew Mitchell? Why you know him?” Wolfe asked, raising an eyebrow at Goose.
“I… fuck…” Goose said blankly as he sat down on his berth.
“Goose? Goosy you with us?” Loser asked as he knelt next to his back seater. He’d never seen his RIO look so put out or pale.
“Fuck.” Nick swore getting everyone’s attention.
“Nick?” Ice asked as he knelt next to his friend.
“Pete Mitchell, Peter Matthew Mitchell, father was Duke Mitchell, the pilot who went AWOL from VF-51 during Nam?” Bradshaw asked as he looked at Wolfe who looked grim as he nodded.
“Yeah, that’s the kid.” Hollywood cheered as he recognised the name as wolf looked at him impressed.
“He ah… he was my… my brother… my foster brother…” Goose winced out as the guys went silent. You could hear a pin drop in the room.
No one said a word as they all looked at the distressed RIO.
“Talk now.” Wolfe stared at him harshly. Like he knew the story behind it.
“I… We... He came to my family at thirteen, just shy fourteen. He’d been through some rough houses… I… I took him under my wing you could say, broke him out of the protective shell he’d built. He was quiet, flinched like he’d expected to be hit, hadn’t the faintest idea what a family was like, not until he came to my parents and myself. Dad loved him immediately and we kept him for years… we did everything together for years. We promised to go to Annapolis together when I found out he was also a navy legacy kid. When time to apply to the academy came…He applied to the air force without telling me, and we told each other everything… he always kept his promises… except that one.” Goose started, “When we got our acceptance letters I got to them first, I saw his navy one had been rejected and was curious as to why he had a second one. I… um… I didn’t take his acceptance to Colorado Springs well.” Goose quietly told the guys as he buried his head in his hands.
“Nick… what happened.” His pilot asked as he rubbed his friend’s knee.
“I… I said some shit… he left… I didn’t mean it; I was just so angry he didn’t tell me. I went to cool off around San Diego that afternoon… by the time I’d returned home he’d left… packed up everything of importance to him and took off somewhere my parents never told me… likely to the air force academy early… and I haven’t seen or heard from him since…” Bradshaw looked at them, completely broken.
“Fuck.” Wolfe whistled out as he looked at the fellow RIO.
“Yeah… fuck.” Goose chuckled breathlessly. “He… he should have been my best man at my wedding, been Bradley’s godfather… he… I… I fucked up.” Goose admitted, the RIO looked disgusted with himself, something that concerned his friends.
“Nick… I need to ask you this in all seriousness.” Iceman asked as he looked at his friend. Gone was Ice, here was lieutenant commander Kazansky talking to him, all serious and professional.
“Yeah?”
“Can you work with him professionally. Can you handle being in a room with Mitchell. Can you still fly?”
“I… yeah… yeah, I can fly. I… I’ll stay away from him… I just… eight years is a long time.” Goose sighed as he dragged a hand down his face.
“Well… we’ll keep an eye on you and keep you close. If he gives you any trouble just let us know, alright.” Wolfe spoke softly as he looked at his friend.
“Let’s get our things packed for now. Transport will be here soon for us… we can leave that thought for when where at Miramar.
Two days later.
“We really need to report into commanders Heatherly and Metcalf.” Ice instructed as the group of pilots and Rio’s settled into there assignments, throwing their sea bags into their wardrobes. They could unpack them later. He indicated to Goose and Slider to follow him as they left their assignments, making their way towards the top gun facility in Miramar. That was where they would find there commanding officers.
“So, to their office?” Slider asked.
“We’ll we’ve done everything else but report into them. We’ve been to requisition; we’ve been to our assignments and now its just going and checking in with them.” Goose said as the three of them walked around the familiar corridors of Miramar, walking through the top gun training facility towards where there instructors/commanding officers where waiting.
It wasn’t long before they reached their commanders offices.
“So do we?” Goose asked
“Wait… they’re talking to someone.” Ice said as he listened through the slightly cracked open door. Not fully shut, allowing them to hear the conversation going on inside.
“REAR ADMIRAL BISHOP, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO.” Rear admiral Metcalf yelled.
“I, I had the pilot blacklisted from enlistment and the academy, h…he’s Duke Mitchells kid, imagine the disaster that was going to happen when we let someone like him walk through the doors of the academy.” The rear admiral on the end of Vipers’ fury stuttered out.
“MAJOR PETER MATTHEW “MAVERICK” MITCHELL IS THE DEADLIEST PILOT IN THE ENTIRE US SERVICES. BLACK OPS, FIRST AIR TO AIR KILL IN AN F-15, NINTEEN CONFIRMED KILLS. WE COULD HAVE HAD THE DEADLIEST AVIATOR IN OUR RANKS SINCE WORLD WAR TWO.”
“You blacklisted my kid? You absolute bastard, do you have any idea the damage you’ve done. Mitchell has all the rights to sue us for this you idiot, he can make this into a giant scandal, that he was blacklisted from the navy on his father’s reputation and not his own merit. Mitchell’s S.A.T’s and GPA where higher than my own sons.” A third voice yelled, no where near as loud as the other.
“Hold up, whys my dad here.” Goose quietly whispered to his friends in shock.
“That’s your dad? But he’s submarines?” Slider narrowed his eyes in confusion.
“Subs to launch missiles? Air strikes from sea? Who knows, we’ll find out during debrief.” Ice told them.
“Shush, I want to hear this.” Goose narrowed his eyes as he leaned against the door, listening in.
“H, he’s a Mitchell sir.”
“DUKE MITCHELL WAS KILLED IN ACTION DEFENDING OUR RETREATING SQUAD, HE TOOK ON SEVEN MIGS IN A LAST MAN STAND TO SEE THE REST OF OUR SQUAD RETREATED SAFELY. VF-51 FLEW F-4’S DURING 68, NOT F-111’s. IT WAS A COVER UP BY THE DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE BECAUSE WE WERE INTERCEPTED OVER CIVILIAN AIR SPACE.” Viper yelled.
“I watched, as my godsons’ father died, watched as his jet hit a temple filled with civilians as it crashed. Duke Mitchell sacrificed himself to save the rest of us, as we were intercepted by an entire squad of migs, four jets verses 12… I had to break the news to my sister and nephew that there husband, and father was gone before being shipped back out to Nam’ a week later, I found out months later, when I finally got leave, that my sister had took her own life and my godson was in the foster system. I spent years looking for him only to lose all hope of ever finding him, hoping one day he’d walk through top guns doors as a naval aviator like his father. It wasn’t until he was already an adult did, I find out he’d lived on the other side of the city with admiral Bradshaw for years and had left for the air force before I could even see him.” Viper spoke venomously, getting goose to freeze as he listened.
“I never imagined this is how that would ever happen. My godson, walking through Top guns doors as an air force major, the deadliest and most competent pilot in the entire US services. You absolutely sicken me, Bishop. Get out of my office and pack your stuff. I’ll see that your either demoted or dismissed by the end of the day.” Viper snarled as the rear admiral retreated, the three younger officers outside the door snapped to attention and jumping to one side as they stood out of the way of the retreating admiral.
Viper, Jester, and admiral Bradshaw exited the office behind him, all three superior officers looking at the three before sighing.
“I’ll assume you overheard?” Admiral Bradshaw asked with a sigh, watching as his son and two friends squirmed under there gaze.
“Yes sir.” Ice replied.
“Coming to check in boys?” Viper asked with a sigh as he signalled for them to relax and follow them.
“Yep.” Slider sighed as viper looked at the clock on the wall.
“Well, you’re just in time, the air force boys are due to land shortly, follow us to the tarmac, and be on your best behavior. We’ll swing by your assignment and grab the others on the way past.” Admiral Metcalf sighed as he dragged a hand over his face, leading the group out of the offices and towards the apron.
“Pete’s finally coming home kid.” Admiral Bradshaw quietly told his son as he wrapped his arm around Nick. “Please just… just try to apologize… even if… I just want my boys back… alright.” The mariner sighed as he tried to talk to nick as they made their way past their assignment, dragging the other flight officers and Pilots out to follow them.
“I… I’ll try dad… but eight years… I… I don’t know how he’ll take it.” Goose quietly replied as he fell into step with his father. The RIO just watched the jets approach in nervousness. He hadn’t thought he’d be standing here watching as the brother he drove away returned after years of no contact.
Slider and Ice patted his back and squeezed his hand in support. Knowing that this mission was going to be hard for Goose, knowing the brother he drove away will be here.
They had no idea how Mitchell would react to seeing them.
The group made there way towards the apron, standing in formation as they watched five planes appear in the distance. The silhouettes of four jets and a large troop transport arriving in the skies above San Diego as the navy officers watched them come in for landing.
“F-15’s?” Slider asked in surprise, “What sort of mission are we to take part in sir.”
“There actually F-15 N-PHX models, a version designed for carriers, but not implemented. They will carry the firepower and you will have to provide the maneuverability to cover them until the payload’s been delivered, there not as maneuverable when carrying a full payload of phoenix missiles like the f-14 but are accurate and do well in long range. When they lose their payload, they are just as maneuverable as the tomcats. For this mission, you’ll be flying out of an allied air base in the gulf before landing on the carrier.”
“But their air force, they don’t have the experience.” Ice asked in confusion
“They’ve spent the past three weeks in Pensacola practicing carrier launches and landings.” Jester informed them. “They were called back from the gulf early to get the carrier training in. the air force had no issue choosing who would be sent on this mission, all the pilots and RIO’s before you are known as the best of the best. Each of them with a confirmed air kill.”
“Why then where we not brought in until now?” Ice asked.
“Because the Navy didn’t have pilots with there stats, it took the higher ups time to choose who would be undertaking this mission and who would match them in flight skills. You lot were chosen due to the USS Layton incident. You’re the only pilots whose files can even begin to shape up like theirs.” Viper admitted, looking pained as he spoke. They were top gun instructors and top gun graduates, the fact that their files and training barely stood up against that of the four pilots and RIO’s landing was nothing short of embarrassing and painful for the Navy, even more so when they saw one of the pilots was a Navy legacy.
They said nothing as they stood on the apron, watching as the first of the jets landed and proceeding to taxi around the aprons as the next jets lined up for landing and the c-130 troop transporter followed behind them as it came in for landing. Within a few minutes, all the jets were lined up on the tarmac as the ground crew began to run around them as their pilots turned there jets off.
The C-130 opened, letting the air force officers step out of the transport, a team of ground crew racing down past the officers and heading towards the jets, checking them over and covering the sensitive equipment with covers they pulled out from inside the transporter.
“General Whitmore.” Viper saluted as the air force officer stood before him.
“Vice admiral Metcalf.” The greying air force officer replied, returning the salute.
“Are these your pilots?” Mike asked as he gestured to the air force enlistees and officers disembarked from the transport.
“Nope, my men and women decided to perform a last series of hops this morning before we set off. They proceeded to fly their own jets because of this. Those disembarking are the ground teams assigned to the jets however.” The general smirked, “Major Mitchell and Captain Floyd wanted to ensure that everyone was well prepared before we left for Miramar.”
“Sir, is that not a conflict of interest.” Ice asked, getting their attention.
“What son?” the air force general asked as he narrowed his eyes.
“Your presence and captain Floyd’s presence sir.” Wolfe spoke up as he narrowed his eyes at his sister’s father-in-law. It took the general a moment to recognize the RIO.
“Ah, Leonard, I should have realized you’d been assigned to this mission. Your sister did say you where one of the best, it looks like you match up.” The general snorted. “Normally yes, however, I don’t oversee my son, and we insure we follow rules to the t about this, but for this mission, until you all deploy in three weeks’ time, circumstances like these are overlooked for experience. I trust my son to remain professional in this situation.” General Whitmore nodded as eight people approached the group, all falling into stance beside the air force general.
“Understandable. Admiral Bradshaw will be providing assistance with the submarine force; we trust him and Lieutenant Bradshaw to work professionally also.” Rear admiral Heatherly told the general as they glanced at the two Bradshaw’s.
“Well then gentlemen, let me introduce you to the air forces’ finest and deadliest Pilots.” The general said as he had his pilots and RIO’s remove their helmets.
Goose and Admiral Bradshaw did their best not to flinch but did hear quiet gasps come from Metcalf and Heatherly as their eyes fell onto one pilot in particular as he removed his black helmet with red and white decals.
It was like they where staring at a ghost.
“May I introduce you to our radar interception officers, captain Julie “Thorn” Richards, captain Robert “Meep” Jackson, captain Joshua “Zombie” Walker and captain Daniel “Hijinks” Williams and our pilots captain Mary “Irish” Donahue, captain Marcus “Rico” Garcia, captain Thomas “Hawk” Floyd and Major Peter “Maverick” Mitchell, the deadliest pilots in the United States air force. All together, these four teams have a total of 28 air to air kills and have completed hundreds of black ops missions.” The general smiled as his pilots stood forward, matching up to the team of the navy’s finest. The air force pilots staring down the navy pilots and vice versa.
“Gentlemen, ladies, let me introduce you to TOP GUN’s best pilots. The squad responsible for the USS Layton rescue. May I introduce our Pilots, lieutenant commander Thomas “Iceman” Kazansky, Lieutenant Steven “Loser” Hiller, Lieutenant Rick “Hollywood” Neven and Lieutenant Charles “Chipper” Piper and our top radar interception officer’s lieutenant Ron “Slider” Kerner, lieutenant Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe, Lieutenant Marcus “Sundown” Williams, and Lieutenant Nicholas “Goose” Bradshaw.” Admiral Metcalf introduced.
“Ladies, gentlemen, take a good look at your teammates, from these two planes from the air force and two planes from the Navy will be flying this mission, the rest of you will be spares in the air. These next two weeks will be spent flying together, running the course and practicing hitting the targets for this mission.” General Whitmore told them all as he looked at the groups.
“Airforce, we’ll give you a tour of our facilities. You all will be staying on base due to the nature of this mission, however, you will be allowed off base but will have to return before a twenty-three hundred hour curfew. That also covers our top gun pilots. All are to be back on base by twenty-three hundred hours. We hope you all enjoy your stay on base and hope that everyone gets along well.” Mike said as he narrowed his eyes at Bradshaw and Mitchell, both the naval flight officer and the air force pilot staring each other down as they stood in front of one another.
“Lieutenants, Dismissed.” Admiral Heatherly commanded as he turned to face the navy officers.
The navy officers saluted before marching off back towards there assignment. The eyes of the air force pilots staring them down as they walked away. Goose lifted his head as they walked away, looking back to the air force pilots.
Pete stared at him the whole time as the naval aviators and flight officers retreated.
He didn’t smile, didn’t frown… just retained a steel poker face that was impossible to read. Yet he stared at Nick the whole time as the navy guys retreated out of site.
Even as they retreated, Goose hoped that there was a chance that this mission could help him rebuild the bonds he broke with the man he once called brother.
This might be the only shot he got.