ROOTS 9

Part 4 of: The Lies We Told Each Other

Fandom: Top Gun (Movies), Thunderheart (1992)

INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html

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Chapter 9: Days of Thunder

Summary:
The special squad selected among the best graduates in Top Gun´s last decade meet and discover that they are not “the best of the best” after all. There is a museum piece called Maverick that deflates their ego.

University City, San Diego, Tuesday, October 22, 2019

 

Pete opens the door to his house at almost six in the afternoon. Behind him, he hears Hondo's car driving away. He strolls through the hall while pursing his lips to keep himself from moaning. His whole body aches, but the satisfaction of saving the Darkstar project and screwing Cain makes it feel like a fair exchange. Now he just has to get to their bed and…

"Where do you think you're going?"

Maverick freezes in the middle of the corridor. He turns slowly to face his wife. Sarah has her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed. His tight lips and narrowed eyes perfectly draw anger and frustration.

"Weeeel," he says, showing off his eloquence.

"We have a strict rule about shoes inside the house, Mr. Mitchell." -oh, he's definitely in trouble if she calls him by his last name- "Aren't you going to take off your shoes?"

He looks at her in surprise. She purses her lips in disapproval as if daring him to lie to her. He hesitates for a few seconds about whether to find an excuse but decides to give up. There are battles that you simply cannot win.

"Yes, okay, I admit it. I can't bend over to take off my boots. Everything hurts because I had to make an emergency ejection at a speed that I can neither deny nor confirm puts me in the league of Ethan Hunt. Please, Sarah, don't scold me; I had good reasons for doing so."

"Yes, of course," -she replies sarcastically- "You always find good reasons to go higher, faster and further. You can't leave me a widow, Pete. I have forbidden it!"

"And I don't want to leave you a widow, but there were... reasons."

Pete sighs, defeated. He doesn't like this part about working as a test pilot on experimental projects. He can't say much to his wife, not even to Ice. That's why he's stayed in the hangar these last few weeks. At least they can talk about the differences between San Diego and the desert and how the reconstruction of the P-51 is progressing.

She snorts.

"Reasons..." -she shakes her head, looks at the wall, and asks resignedly- "Will you have another similar reason tomorrow?"

"No," -the swiftness of his response makes her look at him in amazement- "The project ended today. I achieved proof of concept. I have been reassigned."

Sarah blinks in confusion, fear creeping into her eyes. She puts aside her disapproval and crosses the space between them. She doesn't hug him, she knows Pete's shoulders and torso are quite tender after an ejection, but he does put a hand on his cheek.

"So soon? I don't want... I don't want you to leave again."

He tilts his head to enjoy her touch. What little strength he gathered during the trip is running out, and he needs a new dose of painkillers.

"Let's go upstairs, okay? I'll tell you everything I can, but I must get in the bathtub."

She nods.

Later, they curl up in bed after soaking in warm water, having liniment rubbed into the marks left by the parachute harness, eating broth, and taking more sedatives.

"Something big is coming," Sarah suddenly says, looking at the ceiling.

"Um?" -Pete is half drowsy, but her serious and slightly fearful tone puts him on alert.

"Last week Ice was here for half a day, remember?"

"Yes, of course" -and he cannot hide the frustration that the memory brings him.

Ice took over as commander of the Pacific Fleet last May. The position comes with an official residence... In Honolulu! Although he flies to San Diego whenever he can, it is challenging to coordinate three schedules that have nothing in common: a COMPACFLT, a professor and midwife, and a test pilot on a classified project. As it is, the three have not coincided for almost six months. Tom had a stopover in San Diego last Tuesday while returning from DC to Honolulu, but Mav had a complete digital simulation of the flight. He couldn't leave the Skunk Works workshop. At least they filmed themselves while making love. He saw the video on Sunday when he went down to "have coffee" with her.

"You didn't tell me anything special was happening."

She bites her lower lip and looks at him with some fear. She wants to use the right words to explain her concern without panicking him.

"He was tense. It's not strange, I know. Being COMPACFLT puts him in front of a lot of classified shit that I don't even want to imagine, but this time it was different. Whatever they discussed in the White House affected him more than usual. When I came out of the bathroom, he had pulled Jake's photo out of the drawer and was stroking it with his finger. His stare was not the usual longing one. He seemed somewhat hopeful and fearful."

Pete is now fully awake. He groans as he slowly sits against the bed's headboard.

"Are you saying Ice was afraid for Jake?"

"Ujum. He also said something... at the time, I thought it was one of his sarcasms, but now... He said that planning family reunions was a hassle in this family. That only the White House could achieve it."

Pete holds his breath because now he can see the signs, too. The orders to report to Miramar were waiting for him; that part wasn't Cain's idea. Bradley has been called back in the middle of his vacation; he will arrive in San Diego from Perla Blanca tomorrow. Brig appeared today in Moapa Valley out of nowhere. If Ice is worried about Jake, it's because their second son will also be on that call. Not that it could be any other way; since the "Mika Incident," Harvard and Hangman have been inseparable. What do the three have in common? Top Gun. Specifically, they are among the ten graduates with the best scores of the last decade. Oooh! They should be thankful Sean is halfway through his training at Fallon. Or they would have summoned their little one, too.

He leans down to kiss Sarah on the head. She exhales very slowly and looks at him with anxious eyes.

"Do you think it's time?"

They both know what she means. For eleven years, they have been trusting the message Jake sent to Pete before breaking up with the family: "There is something I must do before I return." Ice was so furious when they met in November 2008 that he sent Sean to some friends, called his brother to the reservation (caution be damned, this was their son), and screamed himself hoarse, demanding the terms of the prophecy. Ray Seresin did not give in.

"Jake asked a question," the man repeated in a tired tone, "you know how it works, Tom. The answer was only for him. How he decided to move forward is his responsibility."

"He's a child, Ray. He can't…"

His brother didn't let him finish the sentence.

"How old were you when you left home? How old was I when I was left alone, Tom?"

Tom didn't say anything. Yes, they were seventeen years old when they separated. He managed to assume his new identity and enter the USNA. Ray returned to Colonel Levoi's house, his torture and demands. They were a couple of desperate kids who made the most important decisions of their lives at seventeen, just like their son does now. Ice shrank as if his body had suddenly been emptied. He hugged himself and let out a strangled sob. Pete put a hand on his shoulder. Tom raised his face and looked at him with a defeated expression. He closed his eyes. Sighed.

"At least tell me if he will come back." -he begged and looked at the phone as if he could convey all his anguish to the man hundreds of miles away- "Don't make me live with that uncertainty, Ray. If I've lost it, just tell me. I will accept what you say." -he took a deep breath- "I swear I won't try to change anything. Just give me the right to mourn if I have lost my son."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. They could feel Ray's labored breathing as if he were fighting against himself.

"Are you alone?"

Pete lost what little calm he had.

"Of course, he is not alone! What kind of monster do you think I am?"

A book flew from the shelf straight to his head.

"Don't push me, Mitchell. Sarah?"

She sat straight in the chair where she had watched her husband crash against Ray's will like a wave against a newly built sea wall.

"Of course, I'm here. He's my son too, isn't he?"

There was another pause. Pete had seen Ray prophesying during his stay on the reservation. There was also that call where he told him he had to accept Carole's marriage proposal. He never thought about the contract terms until now. What happens if you refuse to follow the advice? What if, like now, someone demands the prophecy given in confidence and secret to another person? In the eyes of who, or what gives Ray that power, is the claim they make legitimate?

"He will come back," -said his brother-in-law finally in a broken voice.

Then, there was a noise as if the earpiece was hitting something.

"Ray?" -Tom asked, distressed- "Are you there?"

"Ray can't talk anymore." -Walter's voice took them by surprise- "I hope whatever you asked him was worth it."

"What happened?" -Sarah asked.

"He has fainted." -and hung up.

That was it. Well, not really. They made a substantial donation to the reservation's reconstruction fund that year. When Sam received an invitation to the traditional Lakota poetry club during his sophomore year at Oglala College, they realized Walter was returning the gesture.

It's been eleven years, two months, two weeks, and five days since Jake left. They learned to live with an empty seat at the table and indirect news. But they did not give up. "There is something I must do before I return" is a promise. Jake is a man of his word.

Pete cuts off his thoughts and tries to smile at his wife over the physical pain and anguish in his heart.

"I think that anything that scares Tom "Iceman" Kazansky must be big and dangerous," - he finally tells her - "But remember that I am Maverick, my job is to fly and produce miracles."

She places a light kiss on his chest.

"Go to sleep. Tomorrow you have to go to Miramar and be civil with Cyclone."

"Didn't I tell you? I made miracles every day."

Bradley arrives the next day while they are having breakfast.

"Iná?" -calls from the hall.

"In the kitchen!" -Sarah answers as she serves Pete a plate of eggs.

His oldest son is almost unrecognizable in a blue T-shirt, raw linen pants, and a beautiful tan.

"Oh! I see that Hawaiian shirts are not popular at White Pearl," - comments his father in greeting.

"Ha ha ha. Very funny, Mavdad. How are you, iná?" -and leans down to kiss her on the cheek.

"I'm good, čhiŋkší. Are you going to have breakfast?"

"No, I ate on the plane, don't worry." -he takes a box of apple juice from the refrigerator- "I just want to sleep for a few hours before reporting at the base, receiving the key to my apartment, and meeting the rest of the group."

Maverick raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Did you all agree on that already?"

"No need," Bradley explains with a shrug. "Everyone in Miramar goes to the Hard Deck."

The man nods and continues with his breakfast.

"And how was your test flight yesterday, Mavdad?" -Bradley asks in his usual tone of curiosity and pride.

"God, god. We exceeded expectations, in fact."

Bradley doesn't notice the look of recrimination Sarah gives his father.

"Wow! Your work is so cool Mavdad. Well," - he leaves the glass in the sink - "I'm going to sleep."

"Are you coming to dinner today, son?" -Sarah asks him before he reaches the stairs.

"Hmm. I really don't know. It depends on the vibe of the group. I don't know who they called for this special assignment. I'll send you a text, okay?"

"Of course, baby."

When Bradley's footsteps fade, she looks at Pete accusingly.

"You didn't tell him you are also on the mission."

"What use would it be? Let the boy enjoy a night with Jake and Brig."

She grunts but lets it be.

When Maverick sees the screen with the candidates' names and hears the parameters, he decides he was definitely the right call to keep Bradley ignorant for twenty-four more hours. The orders are clear: train them to accomplish the mission. If they return, it will be considered a bonus. He also realizes what Ice wants: not one, but three miracles. Because they are identical in that neither of them is willing to accept death without giving everything to prevent it.

The worst thing is seeing Simpson's indifference. He doesn't know if this disinterest in other people's lives is something the bastard was born with, was taught in officer school, or is some bizarre compartmentalization mechanism to help him sleep. He does not care. Mav spends every minute of that meeting fighting the urge to jump across the table and strangle him.

Ice probably warned him to use a long table for the first meeting.

He says goodbye as quickly as possible with the excuse of studying the files and runs to hide in his office. And that's another sign of the exceptional times they live in: they've given him an office!

He does not go beyond organizing the individual and two-seater teams, considering possible alignments for the two squadrons. He understands he, too, needs one more day before plunging headlong into this nightmare.

He sends an angry text to his husband, closes the office, takes the motorcycle, and heads to the Hard Deck.

 

Hard Deck Bar, Black's Beach (north of San Diego), Wednesday, October 23, 2019

 

Jake plays darts alone when he feels a hand land on his shoulder.

"I should have imagined you would be here."

He turns, smiling towards Javier.

"What can I say? I am the marker of cool areas anywhere."

They hug tightly.

"You still have an ego higher than the space station, huh?"

Jake shrugs and leads him to the bar to order some beers.

"Is it my fault that I'm the best?"

They return to the stools by the pool table with their drinks.

"And Harvard?" -Machado asks.

He knows that Jake returned from the Maki Incident with severe codependency. The Navy, more interested in exploiting talent than in protecting the mental health of its members, has let it slide. Seeing such a close relationship between two men is strange, even uncomfortable for some people. Javier knows this firsthand: he invited them to spend a few weeks in Fredericksburg last summer, and his cousins never got over the confusion. Are you sure they aren't fucking? They asked him over and over again.

"He should be here any moment now. He stopped in Nevada to see his parents. I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"Look to you!" -Javier gives him a gentle pat on the back- "All independent and grown up. I'm proud of you, man."

Jake smiles at him, somewhat shyly but clearly proud of having managed to stay away from Brigham for twenty-four hours without collapsing.

"And María Celeste?"

Javier embarks on an eventful account of his wife's and two daughters' latest achievements. According to their mom and dad's very objective opinion, they are more intelligent than Einstein and prettier than Beyonce. They are immersed in the talk and don't notice the arrival of more uniforms until they are next to them. Jake immediately assumes his public attitude as a smug bastard.

"Here I thought we were special, Coyote. Turns out the invite went to anyone... You keep those abs in shape, don't you, Phoenix?"

Phoenix smiles, annoyed but patient. She is accompanied by two other lieutenants, one African-American and the other with Latino features.

"Friends, this is Jake "Bagman" Seresin."

Jake grimaces. He doesn't like the variation of his nickname that emerged after Maki.

"Hangman," he rectifies.

She shrugs her shoulders.

"Whatever." -to his companions, she says- "This is the only active duty airman with a confirmed air-to-air death."

Hangman raises a hand to his chest in a gesture of false modesty.

"Of course," -Phoenix continues- "the other one is alive, although he is a museum piece from the Korean War."

Hangman's smile fades. Did she have to remind him of his father? Of course, she doesn't know, but… Coyote notices his discomfort. He knows that Maverick is a sensitive spot for his friend, although he has never figured out why.

"Cold War," he corrects to try to divert the conversation.

The pair of pilots make the typical gesture of disinterest of post-September 11 youth.

"Same century." -says the African American.

"Last century." -the Latino adds.

Jake and Javier exchange an annoyed look. When did they become the elders disappointed by the ignorance of the new generations?

"Whatever." -Coyote sighs- "Can you introduce us to your friends, Trace?"

"Lieutenant Reuben "Payback" Fitch, and Lieutenant Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia, his WSO. This is Javier "Coyote" Machado."

"And who is he?" -Coyote points to a guy with glasses sitting in the corner.

"I? I'm Robert "Bob" Floyd."

"When did you come in?" -Javier demands, astonished.

"I've been here all the time."

Jake smiles, amused. Bob hasn't changed.

"The man is a stealth pilot. Literally."

But Bob gently adjusts his glasses with his index finger and shakes his head.

"I'm Phoenix's WSO, actually."

"And you still lack a sense of humor." -Jake sighs.

He stops paying attention to them because his brother walks through the door. He's wearing one of his hideous Hawaiian shirts and jeans. Phoenix approaches him with open arms.

"Rooster?" -she exclaims, amazed- "Is this how I find out that you are stateside?"

There is harshness beneath the apparent joviality of the question. Jake is shocked. Is Trace jealous? Didn't she have something stable with her WSO? Bradley smiles at her fearfully.

"Surprise?"

She punches him in the solar plexus, which makes him double over. He turns red from the effort of not making a sound. Jake has to dig his nails into the palms of his hands to contain the urge to run to help him. Bradshaw's life is not supposed to interest him.

"I guess I surprised you now." -she says with a cruel expression.

"Good to see you." -Rooster replies, gasping.

She seems satisfied and smiles at him again.

"It's good to see you too."

Jake decides it's time to intervene. He walks over and helps him up.

"Typical Bradshaw. Are you unable of having a normal relationship?"

Bradley looks at his brother with poorly concealed amusement. He notices that Brig is not in the bar and understands the significance of the fact.

"You look good, Hangman."

"I am good, Rooster." -he smiles without hiding his pride- "I'm very good."

Phoenix and Bob share an exasperated look. Why their squadmate puts up with that fucker is one of life's great mysteries.

"So, does anyone know what this special assignment is about?"

Jake has his own ideas now that he sees his brother is here, and their father is sitting at the bar trying to watch them discreetly. Of course, he won't share his suspicions.

"A mission is a mission." -he says instead with a smug tone and takes a pool stick- "That doesn't worry me. What you guys need to know is who's the team leader." -he walks around the pool table, uses the stick, and scores- "And which of you have what it takes to follow me?"

He winks at Bradley, and his brother, delighted, plays along. They have acted this comedy a few times since Jake's success led them to meet at Navy events. They're two of the most decorated officers of their generation, so they had to find a reason for Kazansky not to take him under his wing, even if he had been Bradshaw's TA and Lennox owed him his life. The easiest way was to pretend their relationship had gone sour once Seresin ascended. Typical Hangman, right? Discarding people when they are no longer helpful.

"Hangman, the only place you'll ever lead anyone is an early grave."

Hangman walks towards him, deliberately getting into his personal space.

"And anyone who follows you is simply going to run out of fuel. But that's you, isn't it... Rooster? Snug on your perch, waitin'g for juuuuust the right moment. If the moment never comes. It's not your fault!"

Bradley doesn't have to feign pain at that comment. Jake has repeatedly told him that he must define his thing with Blue. They engage in a staring duel. Unexpectedly, it's Jake who breaks contact first.

"Harvard!"

Bradley barely restrains himself from rolling his eyes. It's always like this: when Brig comes in, everything takes a backseat to his brother. Yes, he has a problem with Blue, but the depth of Jake's denial regarding his feelings for Harvard is... It was cute at USNA. Now, it's just frustrating. A glance reveals that Coyote thinks much the same.

Natasha approaches him.

"He hasn't changed." -she says exasperatedly as she watches Jake hug Brig.

Rooster knows they're seeing totally different things, but he nods.

"No, of course not."

Hangman takes Harvard by the hand, leads him to the jukebox on the side of the bar, and invites him to select a song. When Johnny Cash's "Cocaine Blues" starts playing, the energy in the room changes. The group quickly forgets about the previous confrontations and begins to move. From across the room, Jake winks at Bradley as he dances alongside Brig. Bradshaw blinks in astonishment. His brother has done it again!

It's like a magic trick, really. He's only seen one other person so skillfully control a room, Iceman.

But there is someone he couldn't cast a spell on. Natasha snorts beside him.

"I can't stand him."

"He only bet you for the Top Gun cup, Nat."

"You do not understand. It's not that he won the cup. It's the way he treated everyone as obstacles in his path."

Rooster shrugs. He can't tell her that Jake was processing the rage of seeing his father turned into an action hero and queer icon thanks to Tom Holland and Tom Cruise. But luck is on his side.

"Look," he points his head toward the door, "a second wave of aviators."

She squints her eyes, trying to recognize them. Payback approaches them, equally astonished.

"Those are Omaha, Halo, Yale... Shit! That's Fritz."

"The who's who of the last decade of Top Gun. -Natasha concludes

"What kind of mission is this?" -Payback asks with some concern.

But Phoenix shakes her head.

"That's not the question you should be asking, Reuben. Everybody here is the best there is. Who the hell are they gonna get to teach us?"

Rooster's eyes darken as he realizes he knows exactly two people capable of teaching this group something. One of them hasn't flown for twenty years, the other...

Across the bar, Maverick revels in the sight of Jake. The last time he saw him this close was in June 2012, at his USNA graduation.

The vibration of his phone forces him to stop looking at him. Ice responded:

Mav: You could have warned me.

Ice: No, I couldn't.

Oh, so Sarah is right, and this is what made their husband upset last week. He sighs.

"Is it that bad?"

He looks at Penny in surprise. She has always known how to read him well. Even when he was pretending to be a heartthrob to hide his authentic preferences. Penny Benjamin was fifteen years old and wearing a very expensive ball gown when she looked him up and down and said, "Okay, you can pretend you want to kiss me if you give me a ride on one of the planes later."

"Yes," he admits, "I think I've reached the limit."

She lets out a grunt of disbelief.

"I doubt it. Who did you piss off this time?"

Mav decides to tell part of the truth.

"A Vice Admiral. Speaking of which, how is your father?"

"Still mad at you. Retired. I moved to be closer. I have to admit, I wasn't expecting to see you at the Miramar Base bar. You've avoided this place like the plague since..."

She doesn't finish the idea, but they know what she's talking about. Yeah, he hasn't been near the unofficial Miramar Base bar since 1986, when Top Gun and Goose.

"I'm as surprised as you."

"You must be in a lot of trouble. There's no way you'd come back here willingly." -they call her from the other side of the bar.

When Penny returns, she does not hide her astonishment at seeing him still brooding as he runs his finger along the rim of his glass.

"Come on, Mav, you'll figure it out."

"No, I don't think so." -he says, looking at his phone again to see if Ice texts anything else. Doesn't he deserve at least a hug emoji for the bomb they dropped on him?

"Come on. You've been saying that for thirty years. You get in trouble, Iceman makes a call, you're back in the air."

"Precisely, Penny, this time Kazansky sent me here."

"Wow! Okay. That is serious. Does it have any relation with the Top Gun grads reunion around my pool table?"

He nods with a bitter smile. He puts his cell phone face down on the bar and decides to do something for social welfare.

"Penny, dear, is there a way to pay a round to the brave group of aviators anonymously?"

"You don't need to ask me, you just offered."

"What?"

Penny reaches out and rings the bell next to the beer dispenser. CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG. The entire bar roars with happiness. An aviator pats him on the back. Maverick cringes when he touches the bruises from yesterday's ejection.

"Thanks very much buddy. Penny, a screwdriver."

"What's going on, Penny?"

She just points to a sign that reads, "House rules: If you disrespect a lady, the Navy, or put your cell phone in my bar. You buy a round." He looks at her anxiously again.

"For everyone?"

"I'm afraid that rules are rules. You're lucky it's early."

Jake takes the opportunity to get closer.

"Penny dear."

"Yeah?"

"Four more on the old man's account," he says as he points to his father and gives him a challenging look.

Maverick must look away because he can't believe his son's nerves. Again, he acts like a Mitchell, although in his frontal gaze, there is something of Ice's cruelty, without a doubt.

After his son returns to Harvard's arms, Maverick decides it's time to leave. He's taking painkillers so he can't drown his sorrows in alcohol. The other option is the bathtub at home with Sarah's arms around his waist.

"Close my account, please," -he hands her his card and begins to put on his jacket.

He still hasn't finished when she returns.

"Transaction declined. It says you exceeded the daily transaction limit."

He stares at the card in disbelief.

"Really?"

"That's what happens after you buy a P-51 without telling anyone," -she says mockingly- "they put daily spending limits on your card."

"Can I bring you the cash tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid," -Penny says as she walks toward the bell for the second time- "rules are rules."

She shakes the clapper twice, and the crowd chants, "Overboard! Overboard! Overboaaaaaaard!" enthusiastically. Oh! How obvious it's that he isn't wearing his uniform, Pete thinks as three lieutenants of his squad grab him by the arms and legs and throw him into the sand.

"Thanks for the beers, come back whenever you want," says one with dark hair and blue eyes, Vikander.

From the other side of the bar, Hangman watches with satisfaction as Payback, Fanboy, and Omaha throw his father out of the bar. He knows the answer to Phoenix's question, even if it makes his mouth sour. The only person who can teach them something new is Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, and it can't be a coincidence that he is also here today. His father will be their instructor, and if three of his competitors insult him even before they start... Who's fault is it?

Bradley arrives home late and a little drunk. The need to sleep makes him forget any suspicion of his father's role in this special assignment.

The next day, he doesn't give any importance to the fact that the Kawasaki is not in the garage. Skunk Works is far. It makes sense that Mavdad gets up early.

 

Marine Corps Air Station Miramar, California, Thursday, October 24, 2019

 

Bradley sits at the back of the classroom to avoid Simpson. The wretched man thinks he can become like Icepop using Navy and DoD rules like steel bars. He can't stand it! But he notices that his brother is sitting in the front row. Jake doesn't like to attract attention for the sake of it. He is up to something.

He doesn't pay much attention to the motivational pep talk in Warlock's speech until he says, "This mission requires…" Ah! Finally, something concrete.

"...two F-18 Echo solo pilots and two Foxtrot dual-seat teams. Half of you will make the cut, half will remain in reserve... One of you will be named Mission Leader."

Hangman gives Harvard a beaming look. This is what he's been waiting for since he left the USNA.

"Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master. His exploits are legendary, and he is considered one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced."

Jake shakes his head. A little more, and he will turn his father into Jesus reincarnated.

"What he has to teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell, callsign: Maverick."

Upon hearing the name, Bradley feels a complex mix of rage and fear overtake his senses. Couldn't he have warned him yesterday that this was coming? Screw compartmentalization!

Phoenix gives him a worried look, and he forces himself to calm down.

Maverick takes the podium. The pilots who threw him into the sand immediately recognize him and shrink in their seats. But he doesn't pay attention to Payback, Fanboy, or Omaha. He just looks at Hangman as if to say, "That's it, we're finally together."

"This is Kazansky's idea of a family reunion," Jake hisses at Brig, his eyes blazing.

"Good morning." -greets the captain- "Can someone tell me the load limit of the F-18?"

"7.5 G. -Harvard responds immediately and adds- "Fourth Section, Fifth Chapter."

Maverick nods, asking his next question directly to Fanboy.

"Maximum speed?"

"Match 1.8, sir. -and not to be outdone by Harvard- "Section Two, Chapter One."

"Now, everyone." -Maverick extends his arms as if he were conducting a choir- "The maximum climb speed of an F-18 is..."

The class responds in an off-key chorus.

"Forty-five thousand feet per minute."

Hangman closes his eyes, ashamed of how his father makes them dance like trained monkeys.

"Very well," -Maverick says with a mocking smile- "So you all know the manual. Right?" -he throws it into the trash with a dramatic gesture- "The enemy, too. What the enemy doesn't know is you. Your limits. I intend to find them. Test them. Take you beyond what you all believe you are capable of doing. The ability to make decisions where the difference between living or dying is a second requires absolute confidence in one's abilities. That instinct is not found in any manual. It is not written down in any mission report. So today we're going to start with what each person in this group thinks they know." -he looks directly at Jake- "Show me what you're made of."

In the first round of aerial maneuvers, Rooster teams up with Payback and Fanboy in a two-seater. The goal is to shoot down Maverick. Jake can barely contain his annoyance as he listens to his father give instructions in the ready room with the rest of the squad.

"That guy needs an ego check," he whispers with contained anger while playing with a model of the F-18 that decorated the coffee table.

Coyote looks at him curiously.

"It's a little early to hate the commander, isn't it?"

Jake bites his lips. Presumably, the only thing he knows about Mitchell is what "Top Gun" revealed, so any comments could be taken as homophobia at this point. He knows most of this group from direct interactions or hearsay. They won't tolerate that type of behavior. He looks at the foosball table. Brig is playing with Natasha, calm as always. He should take inspiration from his serene attitude. It is not productive to let himself be carried away by his anger towards his father. If he does, he will be easily pulled from the mission. It is something that he cannot afford.

When he turns his attention back to the conversation on the radio, he can hardly contain the urge to intervene. He wants to scream, even though that idiot Payback won't hear him. This is one of the moments when Rooster's pattern of "waiting" takes its toll on the team! His brother knows who they're against. Why didn't he stop Reuben? A "please, let's be serious" would have suffice. No, of course, he wants to let Maverick beat them all to a pulp.

He exchanges a look of resignation with Harvard because he knows that, even if they do their best, they will do their corresponding two hundred pushups when the day ends.

"We spent more time getting to the drill area than we spent in the exercise," -Fanboy comments as he watches Rooster do his pushups out the window forty minutes later.

"It had to be the two of us down there," -Payback reflects with a somber expression and looks with a bit of fear at Natasha, who is also observing the track. He knows that the friendship between Rooster and Phoenix is years old, and she is vengeful. But Natasha has an expression that's more thoughtful than annoyed.

"Rooster decided to take the shot for you. Now you know a little more about who he is."

Downstairs, Yale and Fritz head towards their drill in a festive mood. They even mock Rooster while Hondo counts his pushups. Why do not to do it? They are younger and faster. They can take down the old man!

"Come on, Harvard, join the selfie!"

Reluctantly, but knowing he can't refuse without becoming an outcast, Brig joins the pilot and WSO couple in a photo with Rooster doing pushups in the background.

Mitchell dispatches them in less than thirty minutes.

"Selfies with your squadmate?" -Hondo mocks- "Twenty! Let's see what selfie you are going to take next. Twenty-one!"

Jake goes up on the third drill. Teamed up with Phoenix and Bob. As he tries to hide his nerves by provoking the WSO, Jake vaguely wonders if his father wants him on this mission. Could it be that... He knows his father's reputation: impossible missions, from which only he returns alive. Why does the Navy need Maverick to teach his tricks to his top twelve? Something he can't do alone. Something potentially deadly.

Jake hasn't spoken to him in eleven years, but he knows that his father loves him. That he wouldn't willingly put him in danger. Any other man in his position would try to get him and Bradley out, even Brig, as quickly as possible. But that's the thing with Maverick Mitchell. He's only crooked about Kazansky. For the rest of his life, he is straight as an arrow. He will not use any cheap excuses. There will be no reverse favoritism. As things stand, they have a common goal: to ground Brad and Brig. But they oppose one another in an even more crucial way: Jake must go on this mission before returning home. He'll have to sabotage Bradley.

The conclusion leaves him stunned momentarily, and suddenly, the captain's F-18 appears between their planes.

"Oh! Shit" -as he walks away, Jake berates himself for getting distracted by strategic speculation.

He has to focus on the moment.

"Greetings, aviators. Let's go to work!" -that's all Maverick's warning.

After hearing how he dispatched his first four opponents, Jake won't be hanging around. He launches himself vertically in the hope of flanking him.

"Leaving your wingman. I haven't seen that strategy in a long time," -the captain comments and memories come flooding back.

"Hangman, don't leave me!"

"Calm down, Phoenix. Just keep him entertained."

She makes an evasive maneuver.

"Good move, Phoenix," -Maverick acknowledges- "I like your style."

She almost blurts out a “Thank you sir,” but remembers that they are in a combat drill and probably wants to distract her.

"Where is he, Bob?"

"At our six o'clock," -his WSO reports in a desperate tone.

At the same time that Mitchell's F-18 appears behind Natasha and Bob's two-seater, another plane emerges from the clouds.

"This is how you bury a fossil!" -Hangman announces.

But now Jake realizes that he can't shoot, even though he is behind Maverick, the captain maintains a very slight swinging movement. He cannot hit his target without hitting his partner.

"Oh really?" -the mockery in Maverick's voice is evident- "It's time to teach you a lesson, Seresin. You're dead, Phoenix!"

But Hangman is unmoved by losing his partner.

"Come on, Captain Mitchell," -and he can't keep the sarcasm out of his voice- "surprise me!"

"Catch me if you can, Seresin!"

After a couple of turns, which are actually routine for Maverick, he decides to tease him a little more. He wants to know firsthand how much of Ice's coolness Jake can display in a truly stressful situation.

"You're good, I admit it. But you're missing something..." -and ascends towards the sun.

Hangman takes the bait, follows him, and is blinded by the sun.

"Phoenix, am I close?"

"I'm dead, idiot."

"See you in the afterlife, Hangman."

Jake levels his plane and looks around, bewildered. Is this one of the crazy things the '86 squadron did that the Navy banned? The capture tone makes him blink, surprised. Maverick's F-18 appears on his tail.

"… you lack experience, son."

He bites his lips in rage because the bastard has beaten him at his own game and even has the nerve to call him "son." He can do it, of course. No one but Rooster and Harvard know the truth. To the rest of the squad, it's just a condescending term.

The squad tries again and again. They keep dropping like flies. They are the best in the Navy. Oh! Did someone say ego check?

For the last round, the captain wants the only ones he did not knock down in the first round and the one who resisted him the best. So there they are. From his plane, Hangman glares at Payback and Fanboy. Feeling the impact of the stupid bet on his back. But if Reuben "Payback" Fitch cannot be accused of anything, it is being discreet. Instead of concentrating on locating the captain, he starts chatting.

"Hey, Hangman, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Are you going to shut up if I say no?"

Reuben smirks at him from the safety of his cabin.

"What is the history between you and Maverick? He seems to upset you."

In the waiting room, Rooster and Harvard exchange uneasy glances.

"That's none of your business."

"Where is the old man?" -asks Fanboy, who doesn't want to do pushups.

"I was here the whole time," -the captain announces from below and, with an elegant turn, passes Payback and Fanboy until he is inverted over Seresin's F-18.

"You see me now? Do you think you can finish what you started?"

Jake feels his entire body tense like a wire.

"Sure!" -he replies with fury.

At the base, Rooster shakes his head. Mavdad is playing with his brother as if pulling the strings of a puppet.

"But what's wrong with these two?" -Fanboy complains as the two planes move away and leave them out of the exercise.

As they spin in their steel spiral, Hangman starts huffing.

"You brought us here," -Maverick tells him, looking at him across the cabin- "How are we going to get out of this?"

"You can quit whenever you want, captain," -Seresin spits.

"How low are you going to go?" -asks the other, raising his eyebrows.

"I can go as low as you, sir. And that's saying something."

In the prep room, Coyote slaps himself in the face. He fears his friend will end up with a report for offending a superior officer. Phoenix looks at Rooster, questioning. Of the entire group, only he, Coyote, and Harvard know Hangman beyond bravado and casual cruelty. But his friend makes a bitter face and averts his eyes.

"The past is the past. For both of us."

"Do you like to tell yourself that at night before going to sleep?"

"Excuse me," -Payback intervenes almost with fear- "but you are reaching the hard deck. You are running out of space!"

In the base, Natasha looks at Bob with alarm. What's wrong with Hangman? Everyone knows he's a cold bastard.

"So your strategy is to bury us?" -asks Maverick.

The impersonal voice of the electronic navigation system snaps Jake out of his trance: "Altitude. Altitude". He looks at the plane console in surprise. What is he doing?

"What are you going to do?" -Maverick urges.

He realizes that he doesn't know. That's what always happens to him with Kazansky and his father. He can't see past the rage. Although it's been eleven years.

"Altitude. Altitude” repeats the vaguely feminine voice of the electronic system.

Neither of them gives in. They are excellent pilots and maintain the downward spiral maneuver in perfect synchronization for several more tens of meters. The message changes to a desperate "Go up! Go up!" and it really seems like it's the F-18s who are begging not to be sacrificed in their family drama.

They pull out simultaneously and go horizontal. Maverick snorts and discovers, astonished, that he is right in front of Jake. But he can't think about that. The effort of the maneuver brought out the barely contained pains of the Darkstar's ejection. He focuses on controlling his breathing and finding strength so his knees and back can hold out a little longer.

Behind him, Jake can see the F-18 in the firing area, but he's too busy with his own storm of emotions. How can his father manipulate him so easily? He made a fool of himself in front of the entire squad. A decade of cultivating his image as a calculating and efficient bastard has gone down the drain in one afternoon. For that? To show them he knows how to do a cobra maneuver in pairs? He should have asked to be dismissed from the mission as soon as he saw his father last night. He will never be able to compete against him. He will never be ready.

The voice in his headphones surprises him.

"Come on, Hangman, you got it. Descend and shoot!" -it's Maverick offering himself.

He looks at the altimeter: if he goes any lower, he risks an actual collision. The rational part of his brain finally prevails and prevents him from tilting the helm. He understands that his father will have won even if he hits a target now.

"It's too low!" -denies and climbs.

In his cabin, Pete swallows a curse. Does he have to bring out his Kazansky side now? But this is combat training; not even the most chivalrous enemy gives you more seconds to doubt.

"Too late, you had your chance," -he warns before turning, stepping over Jake, standing on his tail, and pulling the trigger- "It's over."

"Damm!" -Jake exclaims.

To clarify that there is no favoritism, Maverick waits for them to return to Payback and Fanboy's two-seater before giving the final order.

"Go see Hondo so he can register your pushups."

When he flies away from his students, Pete finally allows himself to take off his oxygen mask. He tries to wipe the sweat from his forehead with his gloved hand. That was close. Very close.

He can't hold a prideful smile.

"Okay... Who is this guy, and where is Hangman the bastard?" Phoenix asks in the room.

Almost the entire squad exchanges awkward, disoriented glances. They have no idea what's going on between Hangman and Maverick, but this is an extreme level of shit, even by their standards. The glance between Rooster and Harvard is different. It is one of resignation. Omaha notices it.

A while later, on the track, Hangman does his pushups with obvious effort. Hondo stops counting.

"It's enough."

The other ignores him and tries to do one more.

"I said that's enough," -the officer repeats- "Try resting over the weekend," and leaves.

Jake sits up with difficulty. Focused on controlling his breathing and holding back the tears of humiliation that have been fighting to come since his father knocked him down, he doesn't notice Coyote until he has him at his side.

"What is wrong with you? Ignoring the hard deck, insubordination against a superior officer. All on the first day. Do you want to be kicked out of the Mission even before you start?"

"Don't worry, Javi."

"Listen to me, Jake! I'm going on this mission, but if you get yourself kicked out, you'll leave me flying with Rooster, and everything will go to shit. So tell me, what the hell is going on between you and Captain Rainbow Flag."

"He's my father," -Jake whispers.

"What? Who?"

The blonde raises his head and looks his friend in the eyes.

"Maverick, he's my father."

"Your father? I thought..." -he drops to the ground next to him- "I thought you were an orphan."

"As if it were," -Jake snorts- "I left home when I finished high school. I told him he better die than cross my path again. He stayed away for eleven years. But orders are orders."

"Why did you do that?"

But Hangman doesn't answer and looks around. Where are Rooster and Harvard with their infinite reservoir of kindness? He needs to yell at someone, and it won't be Javier. He feels the intensity of Coyote's gaze and understands that he must reveal something to him, even if it's minimal.

"Because my family is a big piece of shit. We looked like a Navy promotional postcard, happy and united, but it was all a lie. I decided I didn't want to be a part of that. You saw the movie, too; my father has been in the closet most of his life."

"Wait, wait, are you a legacy aviator?" -Coyote cannot contain his astonishment.

"Third generation of aviators," -he nods- "We studied Duke Mitchell in the second year of the USNA, remember?"

He doesn't dare say more. It suddenly occurs to him that they are in an open place and anyone could hear them among the planes.

"Help me get to the showers, yeah?"

They slowly make their way to the locker room. Neither of them notices how Rooster and Maverick are watching them from afar. Harvard awaits them in the locker room, of course. Seeing the state Jake is in, the friends share a look of understanding and sit down to wait at the shower door. Alerts in case Jake collapses from extreme exhaustion.

In the ready room, Lieutenant Vikander has a vague feeling of unease. There's something here, something that could be important. Omaha hasn't gotten this far by ignoring his instincts, so he carefully studies the photos of those who passed through Miramar. Finally, he finds the group portrait from the Summer'86 Top Gun students. Aha!

"Hey, Yale, look at this."

Lee walks over and notices the photo Omaha points to. He opens his eyes, amazed. The image is in black and white, and the definition of the figures is no longer very clear, but Mitchell's chin, nose, and the challenging expression in his eyes have not changed in thirty years.

"The man, the legend. There is!"

"No, at his side. Do you recognize him?"

"Admiral Kazansky? Wow!"

"No, Yale! Between Maverick and Iceman. Doesn't that face look familiar to you?"

"Oh! What do we have here?"

Omaha's blue eyes shine with amusement.

"Yeah. That horrible mustache is unmistakable. Now read the names."

"Lieutenant Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and his RIO, Lieutenant Junior Nick "Goose" Bradshaw. Do you think Rooster knew who we were up against?"

Omaha nods.

"And he didn't say anything, the bastard."

But Yale shrugs.

"He still had to make his two hundred pushups. Let's go to eat?"

As they walk and discuss where to go - not that there are many options in the area - Omaha continues to ponder the issue. Then he remembers. Three years ago, there was a commotion with the premiere of "Top Gun." Within the Navy, it was not difficult for anyone to recognize the account of the "Layton Event" and its true protagonists. What a way for Mitchell to come out of the closet: with a film. Bradshaw is the son of the late Goose, but he entered flight school through the AVROC program, which has always shocked him. More than once, he noticed how rear admirals and vice admirals greeted Rooster with affection, as if they had known him as a child. Bradshaw has all the traits of a Navy brat, except he didn't go to the USNA. Why waste four years at a civilian university if you have priority as a legacy? He also has no known girlfriend. On the other hand, everyone knows about his "close" relationship with Hangman when he was a visiting professor at the USNA.

Hangman is a possessive bastard.

Rooster looks at Maverick like the sun is coming out of his ass.

Hangman hates the captain for no apparent reason.

What is between them?

More importantly, how can Omaha take advantage of it?

 

INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html