Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Emerson's fingers traced over the dark wood grain of her mother's office desk as she waited for the woman to wrap up for the evening. Emerson was just a few days away from earning her driver's license which would result in fewer trips to her mother's work. Though her driver's license would award her more freedom, Emerson would miss her frequent trips to Top Gun as she was practically raised in her mother's office.
Growing up, Emerson played with the plastic toy fighter jets that lined her mother's desk. She dreamed of one day soaring through the skies in one just like her mother had shown her at work. Then, as Emerson got older, she grew curious about her mother's role at Top Gun. If Charlotte Blackwood wasn't a pilot, what real purpose did she serve in the Navy?
Emerson learned her mother, call sign Charlie, was a civilian contractor and instructor. It was her job to study and analyze pilots, fighter jets, and the enemy. Emerson realized her mother was the backbone of Top Gun. Without the Blackwood woman, the Navy lacked current aviation intelligence.
A stack of files sat in the same spot on her mother's desk. The files were so untouched that a thick layer of dust had collected on top. It was odd behavior for Emerson's mother who had always been a clean and organized person.
One day, when Charlie was busy in a meeting, a younger Emerson decided to peek at the file's contents. An old, worn photo of a man in a Navy uniform was paperclipped to the top of the first page. The file read Lieutenant Pete "Maverick" Mitchell. Emerson's eyes scanned through the numerous pages. Though Emerson had limited knowledge about Top Gun fighter pilots, she could tell there was no one quite like Lieutenant Mitchell. His record was unbelievable, and according to the handwritten notes in the file's margins, Charlie Blackwood thought so too.
Emerson Raye Blackwood was still very young; she didn't know what she wanted to do with her life. Yet, the Navy always held a special place in her heart. If she ever joined, Emerson wanted to be as great of a pilot as Maverick, possibly even better.
⎯
The unwelcomed sound of a phone ringtone woke Emerson from a deep sleep. She was nestled into Bradley's side, her hand draped across his bare chest. He seemed undisturbed from the disruption. The exhaustion after the mission and celebration at the Hard Deck quickly knocked the two pilots out late last night. Emerson rolled over, taking her phone off its charger, "Hello?"
"My office. One hour," an unhappy Admiral Simpson spoke on the other line. He ended their call abruptly.
"Somebody's in trouble," Bradley mumbled in a sleepy daze.
Emerson stood up, tossing a pillow at his head, "And that somebody saved your ass. Don't make me regret it."
"You couldn't live without me," Bradley grumbled. He turned over, going back to sleep.
Emerson arrived at the admiral's office right on the hour. He was seated at his desk, typing an email. He spun his chair toward the woman. A brooding expression was present on his face. "You hijacked a multi-million dollar plane and flew off in it without permission."
"Sir, if I may—" He held his finger up, stopping her sentence. Admiral Simpson lost all patience when it came to dealing with Lieutenant Blackwood or Captain Mitchell. "I mean, I wouldn't necessarily call it 'hijacking' if it was appointed to me in the first place," Emerson muttered under her breath.
"Then, you did a flyby in said hijacked plane. Who said you could do that? I should have you dishonorably discharged, Lieutenant."
Emerson focused on one word. Should.
"However, you did save the lives of two of my men. Therefore, I guess I am willing to ignore the earlier portion of this conversation. But you listen to me, Lieutenant Blackwood. That is the last time you disobey a direct order and that will be your last flyby. Do you understand me?"
"What if I told you I no longer wanted to be a fighter pilot for the Navy?" Emerson questioned.
Admiral Simpson looked confused. "I'm sorry, are you asking me to discharge you dishonorably?"
"No, sir. I have a proposition for you."
The admiral groaned, concerned over the direction the conversation was headed. This was not his original intention, but of course, Emerson Blackwood had other plans.
"Project Artemis," Emerson simply stated.
"You—" He pointed an accusing finger at her. He scooted his chair closer, "How do you know about that?"
Emerson gave the admiral a toothy grin, "That's classified. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
"Are you playing games with me, Lieutenant Blackwood? Or is it Lieutenant Mitchell now?" Admiral Simpson quipped.
She huffed in annoyance at his remark. "No, sir. You've interviewed ten civilian contractors for the position, and you were unsatisfied. Something I'm sure your wife can relate to."
"Watch it, Lieutenant. Who told you this classified information?"
"Does it matter? We both know that between my skill set and real-mission experience, I am the most qualified individual for the position. You need me. Let me do it."
⎯
Emerson and Bradley arrived at her father's old naval hangar to offer their mechanical assistance on the P-51 Mustang he was restoring. It was the first time for either of them to visit the captain's hangar. It was decorated with his numerous naval achievements and patches, motorcycles, and old photos. Soon after the couple's arrival, Penny Benjamin and her daughter, Amelia, showed up. Maverick stopped his work on the plane to talk to the new guests.
Bradley stood in front of old photos of Maverick and his dad. Now, that Maverick was back in his life it was like a piece of his dad was always with him. Emerson walked up beside Bradley, snaking her arm around his waist. His arm wrapped around her. He bent down and kissed the top of her head. "So, what's next?"
She examined the photos in front of her. There was a new addition; it was a picture of all three of them smiling after the mission. "I joined the Navy after I lost the last piece of my family. I thought the Navy was all I had left. But, as it turns out, it gave me my family instead." Emerson glanced over at Maverick, "Literally." She looked up at Bradley now, "I'm done staying in the past. I want to chase my future. With you."
He planted a light kiss on her lips. "I like the sound of that."
The couple heard footsteps approaching behind them. They turned around, coming face to face with Penny's daughter.
"Hi, I'm Amelia."
"Hi Amelia, I'm Emerson. Do you think you could help me with something?"
"This is your sign to run, Amelia. This one is nothing but trouble," Bradley interjected.
"Well, if she's anything like her father," Amelia said light-heartedly. Bradley snickered at the girl's comment. Emerson elbowed him in his side.
