cooling water. “There’s only one thing I can do. Stay the hell away from him.”
As Major O’Keefe promised, the students of the 414 th met and suited up for their first advance air combat training. To her surprise, she had been teamed up with the ever-exuberant Captain Post. Sydney swallowed her groan because, she and Post were the only women in a class of seventy and she could sense the men in the squadron were already siding bets that the ‘girls’ were easy prey.
“This is not a game,” Maj. Maxwell barked. “This is a test,” he stressed, marching in front of the group outside of the hanger. “Three teams go up—only one team will be declared a winner. The rules? There are no rules-as long as you safely land the plane in one piece.”
The men turned to each other for immediate high-fives and Maj. Maxwell had to shout above the din of hoots and hollers.
“This is a one time thing. We want to see everyone’s natural ability and instinct behavior. Remember, this is not a game—nor a time to show off. The purpose of this test is to see how well you engage the enemy and how well you get out of a jam.”
Sydney thrust up her chin; already feeling the rush of adrenaline and the itch to prove her place in the squad-and, of course, to prove that she was a damn good pilot.
Minutes later three sets of teams were organized and Sydney and Captain Post were strapped into their jets and ready to rock-n-roll. It was the first time in a long while that she couldn’t tell whether the accelerated beat of her heart was due to her love of flying or the fact that she was going against Lt. Blocker and Lt. Colton.
The three sets of teams took off into three different directions to follow their instructors and immediately performed a quick-list of test. During such things, Syd struggled to keep her ego in check and not to give into the temptation of becoming a showoff. Her experience in the Academy taught her the hard lesson of just how much the Air Force frowned on such behavior.
When she and Post finished their test they were instructed toward their test fly-zone. During their short flight to their designated area, Syd had only one objective: teach Lt. Jett Colton a hard lesson.
Jett glided through the air, feeling very much like the Prince of the skies-ready and determined to prove just who was the Top Gun. Almost immediately upon entering the test fly-zone, he and his wingman, Lt. Tyler “Puck” Johnson, were under attack. From whom, he was unable to ascertain; he just knew he had to shake the flyer before they were able to get a lock on his plane.
This proved more difficult to do when more planes entered the zone and turned what he perceived to be a simple cat and mouse game into a full-blown war attack.
Lt. Johnson was the first to go down, while Jett managed to escape more than one close call. Twenty minutes later, he eliminated one pilot from team C. In no time team B-Captain Post and Captain Garrett-eliminated the last member from team C, which left the playfield to two against one.
Jett felt like a mouse in a field of starved cats. However, he remained a slippery and elusive mouse for his prey for thirty more minutes before he nearly eliminated Captain Post in a perfect execution of a glide and roll. He didn’t see the trap until it was too late when Sydney, popping up from nowhere, got a lock on him.
“All right, guys,” Maj. Maxwell’s voice boomed in their headgear. “Good show. Bring it on in.”
Jett didn’t answer, but instead released a stream of curses throughout his flight back Nellis. A long list of what he should’ve and could’ve done scrolled through his mind and his temper was nowhere near cooled by the time he climbed out of his aircraft.
As he returned to the group, he saw Sydney and Niecy receiving a series of high-fives and congratulations. When Sydney turned her broad smile and twinkling eyes toward him, his heart seemed to cease in his chest. She looked
As Major O’Keefe promised, the students of the 414 th met and suited up for their first advance air combat training. To her surprise, she had been teamed up with the ever-exuberant Captain Post. Sydney swallowed her groan because, she and Post were the only women in a class of seventy and she could sense the men in the squadron were already siding bets that the ‘girls’ were easy prey.
“This is not a game,” Maj. Maxwell barked. “This is a test,” he stressed, marching in front of the group outside of the hanger. “Three teams go up—only one team will be declared a winner. The rules? There are no rules-as long as you safely land the plane in one piece.”
The men turned to each other for immediate high-fives and Maj. Maxwell had to shout above the din of hoots and hollers.
“This is a one time thing. We want to see everyone’s natural ability and instinct behavior. Remember, this is not a game—nor a time to show off. The purpose of this test is to see how well you engage the enemy and how well you get out of a jam.”
Sydney thrust up her chin; already feeling the rush of adrenaline and the itch to prove her place in the squad-and, of course, to prove that she was a damn good pilot.
Minutes later three sets of teams were organized and Sydney and Captain Post were strapped into their jets and ready to rock-n-roll. It was the first time in a long while that she couldn’t tell whether the accelerated beat of her heart was due to her love of flying or the fact that she was going against Lt. Blocker and Lt. Colton.
The three sets of teams took off into three different directions to follow their instructors and immediately performed a quick-list of test. During such things, Syd struggled to keep her ego in check and not to give into the temptation of becoming a showoff. Her experience in the Academy taught her the hard lesson of just how much the Air Force frowned on such behavior.
When she and Post finished their test they were instructed toward their test fly-zone. During their short flight to their designated area, Syd had only one objective: teach Lt. Jett Colton a hard lesson.
Jett glided through the air, feeling very much like the Prince of the skies-ready and determined to prove just who was the Top Gun. Almost immediately upon entering the test fly-zone, he and his wingman, Lt. Tyler “Puck” Johnson, were under attack. From whom, he was unable to ascertain; he just knew he had to shake the flyer before they were able to get a lock on his plane.
This proved more difficult to do when more planes entered the zone and turned what he perceived to be a simple cat and mouse game into a full-blown war attack.
Lt. Johnson was the first to go down, while Jett managed to escape more than one close call. Twenty minutes later, he eliminated one pilot from team C. In no time team B-Captain Post and Captain Garrett-eliminated the last member from team C, which left the playfield to two against one.
Jett felt like a mouse in a field of starved cats. However, he remained a slippery and elusive mouse for his prey for thirty more minutes before he nearly eliminated Captain Post in a perfect execution of a glide and roll. He didn’t see the trap until it was too late when Sydney, popping up from nowhere, got a lock on him.
“All right, guys,” Maj. Maxwell’s voice boomed in their headgear. “Good show. Bring it on in.”
Jett didn’t answer, but instead released a stream of curses throughout his flight back Nellis. A long list of what he should’ve and could’ve done scrolled through his mind and his temper was nowhere near cooled by the time he climbed out of his aircraft.
As he returned to the group, he saw Sydney and Niecy receiving a series of high-fives and congratulations. When Sydney turned her broad smile and twinkling eyes toward him, his heart seemed to cease in his chest. She looked
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