Below The Hard Deck | A Top Gun Fanfiction

CHAPTER V

Helmet in hand, I speed walk towards the tarmac, skillfully weaving between interns and other workers who are milling about the hallway. Turns out one of the few things that they have changed since my time here is the location of the ladies locker room, causing me to spend a good five minutes trying to find the place and giving me significantly less time to change into my flight suit if I wanted to make the wheels up time that I ordered. Despite my rush, there is one person I have to speak to before we get up in the air.

"Maverick!" I yell across the tarmac, catching him just before he climbs into his jet. He sighs, a defeated look on his face as he starts the climb down the ladder. "How did the talk with Bradley go?"

"About as well as you would've guessed." He grunts, hopping to the ground. "He asked if I was going to wash him out and then asked if he was dismissed."

I don't know what I was expecting. I guess I should count my blessings that Bradley was even remotely civil in the conversation. He's gone on many a rant with me about Maverick and always has a few choice words to describe him. Part of me just hoped that maybe if Pete held out the olive branch, Rooster would consider it, even if just for these few weeks they're forced to be together.

"You want me to try to talk to him about it?" I don't know what I could say, but someone needs to play Switzerland in this conflict.

"If you do that, he'll just think you're siding with me. You still have a good relationship with him and I don't want to jeopardize that." He takes in a breath, looking towards the man in question. "This is something I have to figure out myself."

Soon enough, about ten minutes behind schedule, we're all up in the air. A sense of familiarity washes over me at the sight of the mountain range below. Despite being rather barren, with the only plants to be found consisting of dead shrubs and grass, there is a special type rugged beauty to it that you can only truly appreciate from the sky.

Group one, which Maverick and I choose through the very extensive and intricate process of 'whoever raises their hands first gets to go', consists of Rooster in one plane and Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia with Reuben "Payback" Fitch in the other. While I'll be evaluating the dog fight as a whole, Mav will be the one actually flying against them.

"Good morning aviators, this is your captain speaking," Maverick's voice cracks through the comms. I roll my eyes, yet let out a chuckle at his play on words. "Welcome to basic fighter maneuvers. As briefed, today's exercise is dogfighting. Guns only, no missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of five thousand feet. Working as a team, you need to shoot me down, or else."

"Or else what, sir?" Payback questions.

"Or I shoot back." The cockiness is evident in his voice. He is enjoying this power way too much. I get into position above the two trainee planes and scan the area for Maverick, only to come up empty. Where the hell is he? He took off before me. "If I shoot either one of you down, you both loose."

"What do you say to putting some skin in the game?" Payback suggests. "Whoever gets shot down first has to do two hundred pushups."

"Guys," Rooster warns. Regardless of his feelings towards him, he knows what Maverick is capable of and that there is a very good chance they could loose that bet.

"That's a lot of pushups," Mav jests, egging them on further.

"Well, they don't call it an exercise for nothing, sir," Fanboy replies.

"Alright, you got yourself a deal gentlemen."

"Wait, hold on," I finally speak up, "don't I get a say in this?"

"Do you have any objections?"

Yes, I hate pushups with a passion and don't even want to risk possibly having to do them. Pete knows this. But, I can't exactly say that over the radio. Doing so would only inflate the already large ego of these pilots. Guess I'll just have to make sure I don't loose. "No."