NIXON // Tom Kazansky

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE: MIRAMAR PILOT

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Cmon, Princess." I pulled my RIO, James 'Mooney' Black out of the jet. He was pale and scared. "Toughen up." I put my hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. He took a deep breath in and nodded, swallowing and breathing out. "I'm okay." He said. I nodded and started walking towards the Admirals office, where we were called.

"Nixon, Mooney." The Admiral greeted us. I knew we were in trouble, but I honestly don't care. I'm the best damn Pilot in this part of the country, even if my callsign is Nixon. Oh how I fucking hate it. "Kennedy Nixon!" oh ha ha ha! How funny HAROLD. You look like a pan has just smashed your face in, why the hell are you making fun of my name you asshole? Go pull your face out or something...

"Yes sir?" I asked. He huffed in annoyance. He didn't like how I towered over him. I was taller than most people here. Being 5' 11" and the only woman aviator in your base isn't exactly the best thing in the world. Sure, its great fun telling people you like it, but it doesn't really feel good when you work harder than everybody everyday.

"I wanna put this short and sweet for you two characters," He circled around us, looking at me the entire time. I mean, why wouldn't he? I'm irresistible. "I've observed your flying for the past years or year..." he made eye contact with me. "I needa send the best two pilots to Miramar tomorrow for Top Gun." he crossed his arms. "You two are the best. I want you to pack your bags, you leave in three days." He said. I couldn't help but smirk at the Admiral.

"Thank you sir." I eyed him. James just laughed at my tone of voice. I am obviously known for screwing 'Nixing' around with Admirals. That's where my stupid ass call sign comes from. I was flying with James one day, so I decided to Nix our plan and do a flyby. It was my first day there. What a terrible mistake. Then the rest of the crew started calling me 'Nixon', and it became my stupid ass call sign. Don't even ask me how Mooney got his.

"Go on, get outta here." he shooed us out of his office and we started walking down the hallway. "Finally get your wings taken away, Nixon?" Some cocky dude asked me. I stopped and looked at him with a smile. "Actually! I get to go to Miramar! Can you believe it! Top Gun!" I said over enthusiastically. He scoffed. "I don't believe it, they let the freckle face freaks in there?" The ginger laughed. "Yep! I guess redheads aren't considered as freaky!" Then I walked away. I don't feel like getting into a piss and match today.

James was obviously taken back by the man's statement, he was a little girl sometimes. He had rust colored hair and tan skin, not a very defined face but whatever. I wasn't really that observant of his face, I just listened when he talked. If he did. In the plane, I would literally have to yell at him with my mask off if he got scared. He doesn't get spooked that bad very often, but when he does it's terrible.

I guess you could say I was pretty, it didn't really bother me that much. I liked how I looked and I dont really care what anybody thinks. I had a face full of freckles, literally. They were everywhere. They were scattered all around my nose and faded out towards the edges of my face. Brown eyes, brown curly hair, and a nice smile for the most part. I think so anyway.

My father was a pilot, so are my older brothers. There's four of them. I don't really talk to them anymore, theyre all mad at me. But whatever. They're in the Air Force, I'm in the Navy. I learned to fly in the Air Force Academy, then switched over to Naval Aviation. I mean, the Air Force didn't really strike me in any way, but the Navy sure did. I'm glad I joined the Navy, it's the best.

"Now you're not gonna bail on me, right?" I asked James as he walked into his apartment. He shook his head. "Nope. I've been wanting this moment all my life." He said. He was so cute! Sometimes I just wanna stuff him in my pocket and take him everywhere. "Goodnight, Jamesie!" I walked past his place and into mine. His place was nicer than mine, mine was just weird.

I took my uniform off and hung it up, then went to the bathroom. I usually dutch braid my hair really tightly for work. My helmet sits better when I do that. Plus my hair is extremely curly. I wouldn't like to wash my hair every night because of the gel. That would suck ass.

But Top Gun? I can believe it for sure. Ole Cowboy and Riser are probably crying their eyes out. The girl got it but not them? No way! All they do is screw around and do the bare minimum. Me? Well even if I did the bare minimum it would still be more than what those fuckers do. Call me an overachiever. Ill do whatever it takes to get what I want.

I hung my dog tags up on a thumbtack embedded in the wall before getting into the shower. Kennedy Collins, what a nice fucking name. Born April 17, 1960. What a great birthday. I'm going to California for Top Gun in three days. I have a good RIO, I'm hot, and I'm gonna have a new and improved flying crew when I get there. Everything is perfect, believe it or not.

I got into a t shirt and shorts, then into bed. I always did a little thinking before bed, tonight it was about who I was going to fly with. I was going to fly with the Mitchels, obviously. Duke Mitchel and Brad Collins were great friends in Flight school, hell, they were even each others RIO's. But sadly, the two buddies were drunk and crashed into a horse barn. At least thats what I heard. Pete and I were already in school.

Anyways, my shower was done and I was finished for the night. So I went to bed. Goodnight.