Below The Hard Deck | A Top Gun Fanfiction

CHAPTER XX

Everything has gone smoothly so far. In fact, we haven't even had anything on the radars. Ice is taking the lead, with Hollywood on his left slightly bellow him and me right across the way from him, forming a sort of triangle. Of course, you can never get comfortable in a situation like this and, as we get closer and closer to the location of the drifting ship, I start to get a bad feeling in my gut.

"Damn, where are these sons of bitches," Hollywood mumbles.

"I don't know what you're complaining about," I reply. "I'll be perfectly alright not seeing any MiGs today."

"Mustang," Slider calls back to the ship over the radio, "this is Voodoo One. When you have a chance, can you get me a mode-four check?"

"Voodoo One , you've got a pair of bogies. Twelve o'clock, fifteen miles."

"Voodoo One, Voodoo One, 090 radar contact fifteen miles," Slider calls to confirm. "They're going five hundred knots."

"Well, lucky for Hollywood, it seems we've found them," I jest as the ship verifies the spotting.

"I got them dead ahead," Specs jumps in. "Fifteen miles, airspeed in six hundred knots."

"I got six-fifty," Wolfman adds.

"We're a little close together. Let's take a wider split." The two of us do as Ice suggests, spreading out a bit more. The feeling in my gut only seems to get worse. Why would they be speeding up to get to us when we have a plane advantage?

"Airspeed is still increasing," Specs says. "They're at fifteen thousand feet now, ten miles straight ahead."

Their speed increases once more, reaching eight hundred knots. At eight miles away, it should only be a matter of time until we see them. "Ice?" I cut in. "You see them up there?"

"Not yet."

"They must be close. I'm getting a hard-on," Wolfman jokes.

"Did not need that image in my head." I pause, debating whether I should speak my concerns. I don't want the boys to brush me off for overthinking, but I also want their own opinions. "Something's up. Why would the MiGs still be coming up so aggressively when we have better numbers?"

"Probably just trying to intimidate us." Ice guesses. "We have the advantage, so it shouldn't be a problem. Let's identify them."

As we move in to try to get a better angle, I hear Specs take in a sharp breath. "We got a problem, Lucky. Now I'm bringing up four aircraft on the radar. Not one pair, two pair. Repeat, four bogies."

"Ice, Wolf, we got four bogies," I relay the message.

"Make that five!" Wolfman yells out. "We've got one on our tail."

"Oh shit." This isn't Top Gun anymore. If that bogey gets a missile lock on them, they won't just call it a day, they'll actually shoot. "Ice, I'm going to try to get that MiG off of Hollywood." Before he can reply, I'm breaking from the formation. If there wasn't five bogies around, I'd probably just do a regular turn. But, with a MiG on my teammate's ass and four others close by, I can't risk putting myself in a relatively vulnerable position for a significant amount of time. So, I force my plane upward, as if I am going to complete a loop. Ignoring the sudden increase of weight on my chest, I flip my jet upright as I reach the halfway point, zooming the opposite direction of my group. "Specs, are all the MiGs behind us?"

"Doesn't seem to be anymore up ahead."

"He's got radar lock on us!" Wolfman yells. "Lucky, do you mind hurrying your ass up?"

"Hold him off a bit longer." This time, I decide to just take a normal turn back towards my duo. At the speed I'm going, it's going to be wider than I would want, but it's also probably the fastest way to actually get behind that enemy. "I'm coming to you guys."