Amelia’s voice comes through again, sharp as a whip. “Enough chatter, gentlemen. Focus on the mission. Wheels up in sixty seconds.”
“Roger that,” I say, flipping a few switches and gripping the throttle.
The roar of the engines fills my ears as the countdown ticks away, and I grin again. This is what I live for—the rush of the sky, the challenge of the maneuvers, and, apparently, the thrill of flying under Commander Maddox’s watchful eye.
Time to show her my skills.
The sky is ours. The roar of the engines vibrates through my entire body as we rip through the patterns, each pass tighter than the last. My jet moves like an extension of myself, smooth and precise, and every call Amelia makes over the comms clicks into place.
“Carr, stay tight on my wing.” Her voice comes through, crisp and clear. “We’re going for a cross break on the next pass. Let’s see how you handle it.”
“Copy that,” I reply, my grip firm on the throttle. I’ve been waiting for this—something more than basic drills, something to show her exactly what I can do.
The formation shifts as we power through the maneuver. My jet carves through the air like a blade, perfectly synced with hers. Each command is a new challenge, and I am ready for all of it.
“Looking good, Carr,” Amelia says after a sharp turn. Her tone is professional, but I can hear the faint note of approval in it.
That brief acknowledgment fuels me. If there is one thing I am learning about Commander Maddox, it’s that earning her praise is no easy feat—and I want more.
We regroup, falling back into formation for what I think is the last pass. Then her voice cuts through the comms again.
“Carr, break off and climb. On my mark, I want you to execute a low inverted roll over the lead position. We’ll hold below for spacing. Don’t over-rotate.”
An inverted roll? Now she is testing me.
“Got it,” I say, steadying my breathing as I pull back on the stick, my jet soaring into position.
“Mark.”
I hit the maneuver clean, rolling smoothly into the inverted position, my eyes locking on her jet below as I cross directly over her line. My focus locks every muscle, and every ounce of my training sharpens into one perfect execution.
When I level out and fall back into formation, the comms are silent for a moment. Then her voice comes through, low and deliberate.
“Not bad, Carr.”
I grin, the adrenaline still pumping through me as I key the mic. “Not bad? Come on, Commander, you can do better than that.”
Knox cuts in with a laugh before she can respond. “Easy, rookie. Take the win, and don’t push your luck.”
Amelia’s voice comes next, calm and cutting. “Luck has nothing to do with it. Nice flying, Carr. Now get back in position.”
The comms click off, but her words hang in the air, a quiet acknowledgment that makes the whole morning worth it.
I settle back into formation, my grin refusing to fade. She threw the curveball, and I nailed it.
One step closer to proving I belong here—and maybe, just maybe, to breaking through that armor of hers.
The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins as I step off the airfield, my boots crunching against the pavement. The drills have been intense, every pass and maneuver demanding nothing short of perfection—and I delivered. Hell, I crushed it.
Noah is the first to meet me, his grin stretching from ear to ear as he throws up his hand for a high five.
“Damn, Dragon,” he says, slapping my palm with a loud crack. “You made an inverted roll look easy. Maddox really threw you into the deep end, and you didn’t just swim—you flew.”
A chorus of cheers follows from the rest of the crew as they gather around. Knox claps me on the back. Cole gives me a quick thumbs-up, and even Nathan manages a nod of approval.
“Not bad, rookie,” Knox says. “Don’t let it go to your head though. One good day doesn’t make a career.”
“Trust me,” I say, my grin wide as I grab a bottle of water from the cooler, twisting off the cap. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”
