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Maverick stood in front of a monitor that displayed a flight simulation. "Phase one of the mission will be a low-level attack. You'll be flying along the narrow canyon walls to the target. The surface-to-air missiles defend the skies above, not the canyon below."
"That's because no one is insane enough to fly below," Rooster admitted.
"That's exactly what I'm going to train you to do." Maverick described the low altitudes and high speeds the pilots would be flying for today's simulation. It was an improvement from the actual altitude and speed required for the mission, but it still felt like a punch in the gut to the aviators. No pilot had ever flown a mission like this before, not even Maverick. Was this a mission they could even come back from?
"Time to target is two and a half minutes." That was the second punch of the day. "Fifth-generation fighter jets wait at a base nearby. You need to get in, and you need to get out. This makes time your greatest adversary."
Needless to say, no one excelled in this phase of the training. After the final rounds of team trials, the group of aviators shared a collective expression of defeat. Maverick prodded them for reasons behind their mistakes, yet none were to his satisfaction nor would they be to the families of the pilots.
Rooster's mind was spinning out of control like a plane experiencing engine failure. He struggled to focus on Maverick's criticisms as his thoughts raced of Emerson. She was the closest person he had to family. If he flew this mission and she didn't, what would the Navy tell her if he didn't come home? Would she mourn him or move on? Could she stop flying? Then, he thought if the roles were reversed. How would he react to the news of Emerson's death? The loud sobs of his mother echoed in his mind as he thought about the day his mother learned Goose was dead.
"What happened?" Maverick questioned Hangman.
A prideful smirk evident on his face, "I flew as fast as I could. Kind of like my life depended on it."
"Yeah, and you put your team in danger, and now your wingman is dead," Rooster criticized.
"They couldn't keep up."
"Glad to know we can count on you, Hangman," Emerson stated sarcastically.
Maverick turned his attention to Rooster, "Why are you dead?"
"Sir, he's the only one who made it to the target," Emerson declared.
"Was I asking, Raven? He was late which gave time for enemy aircraft to shoot him down."
