They Call Me the Coroner | Top Gun: Maverick

Busted Bottles, Broken Sand

10 OF THE BEST NAVAL AVIATORS:WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

I stare at the magazine cover while in line at the store and frown. I pick it up and flip through it.

A picture of the plaque with all the names of the number one Top Gun graduates rests on one page. My name is there at the bottom.

It seemed like just days out of the academy when Lieutenant Tesha "Bones" Dupont was called on to be an instructor. During a training session over a certain valley, Dupont's team was intercepted by enemies in the area with an advantage in their more advanced warplanes. It was a dogfight in which Lieutenant Gregory "T-Shirt" Cotton and Lieutenant Jeremy "Marty" Grahm lost their lives despite their training and Dupont was the only one to make it out after a desperate attempt to save "Marty's" life.

Shortly after the incident, Dupont was awarded for her bravery, she moved up in rank, and graduated to a new, more accurate call sign. No doubt with her exceptional skills as a naval avaitor, Captain Tesha "Coroner" Dupont will go on to train more graduates and excel in her career as one of the best naval aviators this country has seen in 20 years.

"Next?"

I look up from the article and the line that was miles long is now empty. The cashier smiles at me awkwardly and waves me over. I set some bottles down and lay the magazine on top of them.

"Wow! Someone's having a party." She moves the magazine to reveal the root beer and cherry limeade. "Oh. These for the kids or something?"

"Me actually. I don't drink."

"Right." She nods and points to the paper. "Hey, that's you. You're a pilot?"

I glance at the magazine still open. Me and my uniform displayed stoically on the page. That's a great representation of me. I feel like such a fraud as I half grin at her.

"Yeah." I close it and wince. "I hope it doesn't look conceded, buying a magazine with me inside."

"I'm a cashier. I'm not allowed to judge the customers. Just smile and invite them back to the store." She finishes. "You a good pilot?"

"Depends on who you ask." I shrug.

"Well, you're in a magazine so you're either really good or really bad. Looking at the cover, it seems like you're really good." She chuckles. "Fifteen even."

I hand her the money and take up my bags.

"Hey!"

I glance back and she holds up a five and a ten. Her purse laying out on the counter.

"Your beers are on me." She gives me the money and proceeds to ring up another customer.

"Thanks." I say, blinking at the cash in confusion.

*****

"Where are you!? I've been calling for the past two days! No answer! I was about to tell the police-"

I sigh over the phone. "Kim, chill out. I've been hanging at the beach house. Oh, your clock's busted by the way."

Setting the bottles down on the counter, I start to open a cherry limeade up. She's barking at me still and I put the phone on speaker, placing it next to the stove.

"I was worried sick." She sighs. A long pause as she sniffles. "How'd the clock get busted? Someone break in or something?"

"Someone would definately have to break in, Kim. It's not like you leave the keys under the mat." I take a sip of my drink. "It probably just fell or...something. Also, someone paid for my stuff today at the store. That was interesting."