ROOTS 13

Chapter 13: The Ghost and the Darkness

Summary:

He expects sleep to return with the help of the dark, monochrome surface, but it happens just the opposite. The shadows are so deep that he can't help but imagine patterns in the strange darkness that covers him. Is that the outline of a face? For a moment, Jake is sure Tom Kazansky is watching him from the ceiling. Are your eyes what you feel, tender and a little fearful? He frowns at the absurdity of the idea. Most ridiculous thing! He blinks, and the hallucination disappears.

Notes:

I always knew this chapter would be long, but I didn't imagine it would grow this long. I hope I did justice to Ray, Goose, and Tom. I went all out with my García Márquez influences and have no regrets.

 

Part 4 of: The Lies We Told Each Other

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

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

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

"Wer mit Ungeheuern kämpft, mag zusehn,
dass er nicht dabei zum Ungeheuer wird.
Und wenn du lange in einen Abgrund blickst,
blickt der Abgrund auch in said hinein"

"Anyone who fights with monsters
should beware not to become a monster.
And if you look into an abyss for a long time,
the abyss also looks into you."

Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

 

USS Theodore Roosevelt, Pacific Ocean, Monday, November 11, 2019

There's something on the boat.

Something or someone?

Jake isn't sure, but does he know there is an entity (?) that does not belong to the ship and hides in its shadows.

He couldn't explain how he knows it is there. It is a slight change in temperature from one gallery to another. It's the density of the shadows, which sometimes are just poorly lit corners and other times seem as dark as if a black hole was peeking through the steel walls. It's the air that goes from smelling like saltpeter, rat shit, oil, and human sweat to reminding him of a winter meadow, where life is a promise hidden beneath the frozen earth. It is the feeling of being observed from the walls, the ceiling, the interior curve of a spoon -there is no spoon? Sure, Neo-.

Jake had never felt like this before. No. He felt this once. After Maki, when they went to Brig's parent's ranch at Moapa Valley.

One night, he woke up for no apparent reason but with the certainty that someone was watching him. He could feel Brig's arm on his waist, his breathing calm. So it wasn't him. Wolf or Hollywood? It would be a bit strange. But both men had been acting like desperate parents since their arrival. People do that, right? Watch their babies to make sure they are alive.

He remembers Maggie, Brad's classmate who got pregnant her senior year of high school. The group didn't leave her behind and made her room their regular meeting point since she didn't want to leave the house too much. She would just stand by the crib and talk. Eyes fixed on her baby while she talked about everything and nothing. Seeing the famous multitasking in action without fuss caused Jake - and the entire group - a quiet admiration for Maggie.

They realized that her stepfather's sexual abuse would not stop her on her path to success.

In the cold, sound-filled night of the Nevada desert, Jake feels someone looking at him like Maggie looked at her baby. Who? Very slowly, he turns to the right and opens his eyes. The door is closed. He straightens his neck and stares at the ceiling of the room. He expects sleep to return with the help of the dark, monochrome surface, but it happens just the opposite. The shadows are so deep that he can't help but imagine patterns in the strange darkness that covers him. Is that the outline of a face? For a moment, Jake is sure Tom Kazansky is watching him from the ceiling. Are your eyes what you feel, tender and a little fearful? He frowns at the absurdity of the idea. Most ridiculous thing! He blinks, and the hallucination disappears.

Years have passed since Maki, the trauma, the medical leave, the therapy.

Maki confirmed that he should trust his instincts. He is not a prophet like his uncle Ray. He just has enough "juice" to recognize when something is "not right." It's enough. Enough to know that he isn't imagining it: the shadows of the USS Theodore Roosevelt aircraft carrier are alive. No, it is not that. Something alive uses the shadows of the ship to follow him.

But this is not the time to think about ghosts. They are in the ship's meeting room to receive the final instructions, and Captain Mitchell - his father, who saved the squad from certain death - will announce the names of the primary and reserve teams.

"Your goal is a clear and present threat: a secret uranium enrichment site developed by the Yakutsk government…"

Jake half listens to Warlock's presentation. All his attention is on the screen, where the target, the protective airfield, and the ominous mountains surrounding them in the heart of Sakha-Yakutia are clearly marked. It is an almost perfect trap, which only the most innovative strategy and the most daring flight can challenge. Only Iceman and Maverick could imagine this plan and believe anyone could execute it.

"I can tell you the maximum time from today: eleven years, three months, and three weeks. I'm not sure about the weeks." Ray said. It's been eleven years, three months, and six days since Jake left home after what - he can now admit - was nothing more than a teenage outburst. He didn't want to apologize because he believed himself an adult and could live with the weight of his decisions.

His father's voice brings him back to the present.

"The most important thing is to remember the coffin corner. When you climb out of the valley, you will be exposed to enemy missiles. Remember, go down as fast as you can and speed up to get back."

Warlock reinforces the captain's warning with a nod. Then he looks at Simpson, the squad. There is tension in the air, the bated breath of people awaiting the most important announcement of their careers, perhaps their lives. At the periphery of his field of vision, Jake notices how the rectangle of shadow cast by a table darkens and its edges flicker. He sighs. He knows he is not hallucinating and that that spy shadow does not wish him harm. It will have to be enough.

"Captain Mitchell, name your two Foxtrots," Bates asks.

"Payback and Fanboy..."

"Help us, holy Virgin of Guadalupe," Fanboy murmurs.

"Phoenix and Bob."

Natasha and her WSO look at each other in amazement.

In the back row, Yale breathes a sigh of relief and fights back tears.

"And your wigman?"

Jake stands still, ready for the announcement. It has to be him, right? He had the best performance.

Bradley looks at the ground, fingers intertwined and a bad feeling in his stomach. This is it. No matter which of the two he chooses - he knows the choice is between him and Jake - this could be the point of no return for his family.

"Rooster."

Everyone is surprised. Jake doesn't try to hide his perplexity. Natasha notices that his face does not convey anger or envy but fear.

"The rest will be waiting, in reserve," Vice Admiral Bates announces.

Omaha smacks his lips in frustration. It had to be! If Maverick doesn't make it the first time, they'll be sent to the slaughterhouse anyway. With Seresin leading the squad, he is sure they will fly to their deaths. Because Hangman is only interested in one life: Harvard.

Cyclone addresses the squad.

"This is what you have been training for. Complete the Mission and come back. Good luck. Dismissed."

There is one day left to reach the destination. What do you do on the last day of your life?

Bradley is not surprised when he opens the door to his cabin and finds Jake pale and disheveled. It's midnight - or it is in San Diego, and no one dares to demand that they adjust their schedules - and he can't sleep either. He was writing a letter to Blue.

"Is he here?" -he asks in a low and desperate voice.

Bradley just nods, stepping aside to let him in. Jake makes a beeline for the bed, where Maverick sits with wet, vulnerable eyes, dressed in ridiculous green pajamas with yellow airplanes and dark blue slippers.

The man opens his arms without saying a word.

"Dad," Jake moans with his face hidden in his chest.

"Everything will be fine, son," he assures him, although he also cries silently.

"No. You do not understand. Time is running out."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ray said..."

He can't continue. The words are stuck as if a hand were squeezing his throat. Jake turns away from his father and looks around, scared. There! In the minimal space between the bed and the wall, the shadow has that disturbing density that indicates its supernatural character.

Surprised by the sudden fear on Jake's face, Maverick follows his gaze. He notices the exceptional depth of shadow on the wall and understands. He thinks he can make out his brother-in-law's features if he squints. You even have the impression that he rolls his eyes as if to say, "Well, yes, here I am." Oh! Tom and Sarah must be literally crawling up by the walls for Ray to be spying on the kid so blatantly.

Clearly, they didn't count on Jake noticing.

He puts a hand on his son's cheek and slowly turns his face towards him.

"There is nothing to fear." -he assures him- "He just wants to see you."

"Ray said..." -Jake tries again.

"No. What he said was just for you. This may be our last night, let's take advantage of it." -he extends his other arm towards Bradley- "Come here, little Goose."

Bradley can't help but smile as he sits down and hugs him.

"Mav, I'm not a baby anymore. I am thirty-five years old!" -Brad answers, as usual.

"You will always be my little ones," -Maverick replies, buried between the big bodies of his children.

"But you're only taking Bradley on tomorrow's hike," Jake complains childishly with a pout.

Bradley can't contain himself and bursts into laughter. Pete lets out a short laugh and breaks the hug so he can look at their faces.

"Jake, you are one of the most fearless pilots I have ever seen. But…"

"But you need someone who puts the team first. I understand. You decided it because he caught the shot by Payback and Fanboy on the first day, right?"

Maverick looks at him, surprised. Beside him, Bradley has stopped laughing.

"Is that so?" -ask.

"It was one of the factors." -admits- "A team is more than people capable of doing something, it is... there can be no doubts or distrust among its members because a second in the air can be the difference between life and death." -looks into his oldest son's eyes- "Natasha and Bob have trusted you for years. After that day, no matter how bad the simulations went, Fitch and Garcia followed you. They trusted your leadership." -turns to Jake- "That you figured it out is a good sign."

Jake makes a bitter face.

"A sign that I am on my way to being as good a team player as him?"

That elicits Bradley's short, sarcastic laugh and a strange look from his father.

"Of course not. I never asked you to imitate Brad when you were a kid, I'm not going to do it now."

He pauses, trying to gather his thoughts. What can he tell him without revealing too much?

"We're very alike, Jake, especially in how we fly. But at your age, I couldn't understand officers' ideas. That's a trait you didn't inherit from me," and he smiles conspiratorially.

"Ah," Jake nods, "I understand. Did you know there is a rumor that I am the product of an experiment that mixed your genes with Ice's?"

"Really?" -To the brothers' surprise, Pete seems amused by the idea.

"It's an awful theory." -says Bradley- "It's in my top five most ridiculous conspiracy theories along with," -starts counting on fingers- "Iceman is the twin of an indigenous activist whom the CIA killed in the eighties," -neither of them notices the tremor that shakes his father - "I have an artificial arm, Leonardo DiCaprio is married to Tobey Maguire and the president uses Tea Leoni as a double."

"The president does look like Tea Leoni," -says Mav.

Rooster waves his hands in the air.

"That's not the point, Mavdad!"

"Right." -he turns to Jake- "The point is why you're are the Spare. Because if your brother gets into trouble, I want to be sure that there will be someone like me here."

Bradley makes a sad, resigned noise. The Coyote, Phoenix, and Bob episode made him realize how fragile their lives are in those steel cans. Pete doesn't look at him. He knows that the critical thing now is that Jake understands his strategy.

"Remember," he insists, "no matter what you do, you have the Commander of the Pacific Fleet on your side. Just bring your brother back if I can't, OK?"

"You speak as if..."

Mav puts a hand on his cheek. Jake lets himself be carried away by the sensation of calloused fingers, the thumb moving slowly across his cheekbone.

"I want to return. I plan to return. But anything can happen out there. When we return, we can…"

Maverick stops. Can he do this? Can he promise the truth without Ice? But the conditions have been met, right? Their son is an adult. His green eyes reflect determination.

"When we get back, we will tell you everything you want to know about Rachel."

Ah! Isn't that funny? Now that he no longer cares who the hell Rachel is, his father offers it to him. It makes sense, doesn't it? He told him not to come closer unless it was to talk about her. So he has to think that's the only thing that will convince him to stay. But Jake is tired of holding resentment and looking for someone who doesn't love him if she's even alive.

"I don't care who Rachel Seresin is or where she is. The truth is that I clung to her because I was afraid of losing you, too. I wanted to be normal. I was desperate to be normal, as if that would protect me from the pain. But normality is overrated."

"We made mistakes too, Jake. The fault is not yours alone. Ice and I..."

"No!" he interrupted. Jake could only think one thing at a time. "You were adults. You already had a life when I was born. If you decided to stay with him, if he is the love of your life, I had no right to question it."

Mav sighs and moves his eyes towards the shadow; for a moment, it seems Ray makes a mocking grin.

"When the Mission is over, you will come home, right? Your iná really wants to hug you."

Jake accepts the change of subject, although this is no less problematic.

"But will Ice want me there?" -he knows him, knows about his spiteful and calculating side. It is one thing to reconcile with his father, another to return to the house of the man you accused of… so many things.

Maverick looks at him sadly again. What's happening?

"Jake," Brad huffs. "When will you understand that all this time away was only because of you? You could have returned home the following week. Icepop is your father too. He never… You have no idea how destroyed he was when he realized you weren't coming back for real."

"Iceman? Destroyed by me? But if I didn't... I got out of his way!"

Brad raises his hands impatiently. He looks at his father with an imploring expression.

"No," -Mav's tone is final- "not here. When we get back, OK?" -he insists, looking intensely at Jake- "We'll talk when we get back home. There will be no more secrets within the family."

Jake sees the shadow make a brief, quick movement, like a shake, out of the corner of his eye.

"OK."

"Now, will you two let me sleep?"

"Are you going to sleep or think about Blue, brother?" -Jake replies while moving his eyebrows in a mischievous gesture.

Bradley throws him a pillow. Pete ignores them and stands up. When he reaches the door, he looks at himself and snorts.

"I can't believe I crossed half a ship in my pajamas."

 

Tuesday, November 12, 2019

 

USS Theodore Roosevelt, Sea of Okhotsk

 

Because time is an illusion, at sea more than anywhere else, they have plenty of hours of sleep before dawn arrives and it's time to take off.

They sit together without saying a word when they meet in the dining room for breakfast. It's beautiful and strange, Jake thinks, how easily he can come back to this: Brig passes the sugar to his father, and Bradley remembers that he prefers jelly and not cream cheese on his toast. If anyone is surprised by the sudden closeness between the four pilots, they don't say anything. Then they go together to put on their flight suits, and Pete drags them into a little ritual.

They go down to the second deck and sit near the planes. After years of living in ships like this, it is easy for Maverick to find the best point so that the view is absolutely spectacular. This is the closest they've come to being a complete family in a decade: silently contemplating the imposing image of an F-18 glowing in the orange light of a winter dawn with Bradley, Jake, and Brig. It doesn't mean everything is fine, but it is a step in the right direction. Now, they just have to survive the day.

He whispers his usual prayer.

"Talk to me, Goose..."

When the elevator stops, they know it's time. They get up determined.

"Captain Mitchell," says Harvard very formally, "I want you to know that it has been an honor to fly with you."

Pete nods, moved. He shakes his children's hands. Bradley takes Brig's hand without much thought.

"You three are where you belong: in the squadron of the best of the best in Navy aviation. No matter what happens today, rest assured that our family," - he looks directly at Brig, reminding him to think of Wolf and Hollywood as brothers - "is deeply proud of your achievements."

"We give thanks for the food we have, for the love we have received, and for the health we enjoy," Bradley suddenly says.

His brother looks at him, somewhere between amazed and amused, but he follows the traditional prayer of their home.

"We give thanks for the freedom we have. We are the sword, we are the shield and we are honored by this duty."

"And today, especially, we give thanks for Brigham's presence in this family, the joy of our hearts." -Pete adds, because it is too late to comment on this relationship, but not to confirm that he appreciates his son's partner.

"Amen," they said in chorus.

When they emerge onto the main deck, they find the ballet of controlled chaos that precedes any air operation. While the deck crews prepare the planes for the Mission, Maverick, Rooster, Hangman, and Harvard meet with Phoenix, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy in a shaded area. Jake feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and knows, without turning, that the ghost has arrived.

When Hondo calls them to their planes, Rooster manages to be last and stay with Hangman.

"Listen…"

Jake cuts him off by bumping their foreheads together.

"Give them hell and bring our father home."

Maverick speaks to them through the radio when they are in their cabins.

"Dagger One, communications control."

Phoenix and Bob are sweating, psyching themselves up to overcome their anxiety.

"Dagger Two, armed and ready."

Rooster swallows dryly.

"Dagger Three, armed and ready."

Fanboy crosses himself. Payback exhales.

"Dagger Four. We read you, sir."

Hangman looks to the left, where the shadow is like a window into the abyss. It is already known that if you look long into an abyss, it also looks into you. He is not sure who he is talking to, but he is sure that he hears their words perfectly.

"Dagger Spare. Ready and waiting, sir."

Maverick is about to answer and hesitates. The squad remains silent, their irregular breathing revealing their shared discomfort in front of the uncertainty. Finally, Rooster dares to get his father's attention.

"Sir, do you copy me? Sir..?"

"I want to thank you for trusting me to guide you. You are the best of the best. It is an honor to fly with this squadron."

"We are with you, sir. Until the end." -Natasha answers for the rest.

"Forget about the sir. Today, we all have the same rank. Dagger One ready for catapult."

Maverick puts on his mask. Five other people imitate him.

Cyclone sees Hondo enter the control center and waits for him to approach.

"Everything ready, sir," he confirms.

Simpson exhales slowly as he goes over the plan for the umpteenth time. Only Kazansky and Mitchell could imagine... But it's worked before, right? Not this, of course, this is unprecedented, but their work. He must trust them. To be in the military is, among other things, a daily exercise of trust. Furthermore, Mitchell is right: they are the best of the best, and they have an exceptional leader who they will follow - as Bucky Barnes would say - to the end of the line.

"Send them!"

A catapult officer signals with a movement and two fingers. In front of her, two jets rev their engines to maximum. Maverick and Rooster, side by side, greet the officer, then lean back and rest their necks against the seats to compensate for the takeoff force. The final check teams around each plane give their thumbs up, one by one. Their corresponding catapult officers crouch and touch the decks to ensure visual contact with the people inside the cabins. Maverick and Rooster's Super Hornets are the first to slide across the deck. They are like steel darts that tear the sky. Phoenix and Bob, Payback, and Fanboy follow a moment later.

Jake watches them disappear from his cabin and swallows back his tears.

His life is now reduced to waiting.

 

Southeastern edge of the Verkhoyansk Range, Sakha-Yakutia Republic

 

Before reaching land, they see the missiles pass over their planes.

"Daggers, attack formation," Maverick orders.

They line up without hesitation, like a well-oiled machine.

"Daggers ready." -confirms the captain for the benefit of those who follow every word on the USS Roosevelt and in San Diego- "We proceed to set the time to the objective: Two minutes and thirty seconds in three, two, one. Mark!"

"Two, mark," Bradley confirms.

"Three, mark," Natasha confirms.

"Four, mark," Reuben confirms.

"There's no turning back now," Fanboy murmurs and squeezes the effigy of Mary of Guadalupe, which his mother gave him when he graduated from flight school.

Two and a half minutes can be very little time.

Two and a half minutes can be an eternity.

For those who fly the Yana Mission, it will always be a strange mix of both.

Not that they can tell many people that they flew through the gorges of the eastern end of Siberia and passed over a frozen river of pristine white under unique bridges with pillars almost a hundred meters high. Bridges that keep the memory of other times when Yakutia was part of a thriving empire, which promised bread on every table, justice in every town, and joy in every heart.

The landscape is breathtaking, but no one comments on it. Between the speed, the narrowness of the gorge, and the need to fly low to avoid radar, the pressure is intense and requires every ounce of concentration, skill, and stamina. The training was nothing compared to this. Everyone fights their demons in their own way.

Rooster curses as his wing slices through the treetops while leaning at 6 Gs.

"Too low... too fast... focus, stay focused."

After passing under the second bridge, Bob finally sees the SAMS, perched with deathly birds on the mountaintops.

"I see the SAMs right above our heads. Non active." -reports.

"Looks like we're safe from the radar, Mav." -Phoenix sighs.

"Let's not take it for granted." -warns the captain.

Rooster nods silently. Yes, they can't take anything for granted right now.

They finish the first climb and finally enter the valley, where they must launch the bombs.

 

USS Theodore Roosevelt, Sea of Okhotsk

 

Cyclone, Warlock, and Hondo follow the operation in the control room through various screens. Two unexpected objects appear on one of the radars.

"Commander Simpson, we detected two bandits. They are 60 miles east of the target." -reports a communications officer.

They exchange worried glances.

"Where the hell did they come from?" -Cyclone wonders.

Warlock looks at the screen with poorly concealed concern.

"Long range patrol?"

On the deck, Jake bites his knuckles to keep from intervening.

 

Southeastern end of the Verkhoyansk Range

 

Phoenix's voice interrupts his ramblings.

"Comanche, where are they going?"

"Destination 090, 50, southeast." -informs the officer.

"They are moving away." -Rooster can't help the relief in his voice- "They haven't seen us."

"But as soon as those Tomahawks destroy the base, they will go to defend the target," -Maverick warns- "We have to get there first. Increase speed."

"Fuck!" -is all Payback says.

"Enemy air base destroyed," - Comanche announces - "Bandits changing direction."

Rooster feels his breathing quicken, but he can't move the controls.

"Talk to me, dad."

Maverick goes out of his way to encourage his son in an intimate way that doesn't break protocol. Finally, just repeat your mantra.

"Don't think, just do."

Bradley exhales slowly and looks up at the sky. It is the same tone as Blue's wig that distant night in August 2001. He wishes with all his soul to hold that delicate body in his arms again, one more time. He moves to full throttle.

"Jesus, Rooster!" -Payback complains- "Not so fast."

With the squad back in sync, Maverick allows himself a smile.

"OK let's go."

The climb up the mountain's south side is also worse than in the simulations. The gravity is the same, but the stone walls at each side complicate the maneuver.

Finally, they reach the interior of the valley.

"Give me that target, Bob."

"Wait, Mav."

"Come on, Bob. Come on."

"Wait. Got it, done!"

"Target acquired, bombs away."

Maverick and Natasha don't say anything else. They just huff and begin the climb out of the valley.

Although Bob's vision blurs, he doesn't take his eyes off the laser camera screen.

"Impact. Impact!" -reports almost breathless.

 

USS Theodore Roosevelt, Sea of Okhotsk

 

"Miracle number one," Warlock sighs.

 

Navy Headquarters Control Room, San Diego, California

 

"Miracle number one. Achieved," Iceman says with a frown.

Around him, assistants and technicians exchange confused glances. Nobody knows for sure what the Commander of the Pacific Fleet thinks of this Mission. After all, he was the one who put his old friend Mitchell in charge of the project, but he sure didn't expect the almost sixty-year-old captain to end up flying as leader. It's all speculation: Admiral Kazansky has been as cold and formal these days as ever.

But the first part went well, so some people relax while following the event over the speakers.

"Dagger Two, status."

"Almost there, Mav. Fanboy, my laser?"

"Rooster!" -García's voice is pure panic- "there is a problem with the laser!"

"Time is running out. Fix it!"

Iceman struggles to keep his breathing even. His knuckles are white from how hard he grips the table. Does Mav know what's happening? Unlikely. His husband, Natasha, and Bob are struggling with the force of gravity as they climb the side of the mountain. It doesn't matter anyway. It's not like they can go back.

"I'm trying!" -Fanboy repeats.

But what can they actually do? He slams his fist on the table angrily, and the entire room shrinks.

"Find out who did the final check on that laser," the Admiral orders under his breath, his eyes shining with fury.

Fearful glances are exchanged in the room: someone's head will fall when everything is said and done.

"Fuck it. I'm going to shoot blind."

"No," Fanboy insists, "I can make the target."

"There's no time, get out of the way," Rooster orders.

Tom wants to cry. Those words sound painfully familiar. Thanks to whatever, he's sure Mav isn't listening to them.

"Wait!"

"Bombs away!"

This time, they don't need Fanboy to confirm. The explosion is massive: a ripple lifts the earth, and the underground facility implodes on itself. The movement is captured by Navy radars.

"Bullseye, bullseye. Bullseye!" -announces a voice from the air communications command.

"Miracle number two. Yes, thanks Goose." -but Tom doesn't relax yet.

 

USS Theodore Roosevelt, Sea of Okhotsk

 

Jake listens, sitting in the cockpit of his F-18 as if following a game on the radio. He's taut like a wire. They have already completed two of the three miracles the plan needs, but he has not forgotten that danger is -literally- flying towards the squad and that... He looks at the shadow next to the wall. It is too dark and does not change with the sun's apparent movement. There is no way to pretend that it is a mere physical phenomenon.

"Your blood will be responsible for five aerial deaths" was the condition, and it has to be today because his father offered to tell him everything when they finish the Mission. There is no other explanation: it will happen between the SAMs and bandits approaching them in the coffin corner.

Sure enough, his father's voice returns to the radio.

 

Southeastern end of the Verkhoyansk Range

 

"We're not out of this yet." -he warns them, panting as he, Phoenix, and Bob finally reach the top of the mountain- "Here they come!"

They exchange short sentences, evade the first wave of rockets, and finally allow themselves to think about something other than the next second.

"Rooster, status?"

He does not get a direct answer. His son's incredulous "Oh, no!" simultaneous with Fanboy's determined "There we go, Holy Virgin," indicates that they have climbed out of the valley, and the SAMs were onto them.

 

Navy Headquarters Control Room, San Diego, California

 

Tom fights nausea as he listens to the fight. His body is just a tremor. His face a gray mask. His eyes, a stormy sea. He is unsure if anyone notices him: the entire command is focused on the radar images and the voices over the radio.

And then.

"Shit, I'm out of flares!"

"Rooster, evade!" -Maverick orders.

"I can't get them off my tale." Tom thinks he's listening to a three-year-old boy who didn't understand his father's absence- "They're on me!"

He closes his eyes, knowing what's coming.

"Mav, noooooo!"

He cannot stand it anymore. He gets up so violently that he throws the chair on the floor and runs to hide in the first bathroom he finds. He barely reaches one of the cubicles before breakfast spills down his throat. The vomiting stops, but he doesn't have the energy to get up. He has lost him. How is he going to look their wife in the face? How will he explain…?

Nothing, he won't say anything. It will be his pain, his burden. He's used to that.

He stands up tremblingly.

He must return.

He is the Commander of the Pacific Fleet and still has a son in combat.

Ray is watching him from the mirror when he gets to the sink. He has a fierce, determined expression.

"Do you want to play how to outwit death, brother?"

 

USS Theodore Roosevelt, Sea of Okhotsk

 

Jake feels the words like punches.

"Dagger One is hit! I repeat, Dagger One is hit!" -Natasha reports.

She repeats it as if she can't believe it, as if she needs to say it out loud to believe that she has seen the greatest legend of the Navy fall.

"Maverick was shot down!"

His brother sounds completely lost.

"Can you see him? Does anyone see him? Dagger One, status!" -he repeats.

"I didn't see a chute," -Fanboy sounds like an abandoned child.

"We have to go back."

But the communications officer's voice cuts them off.

"Comanche, enemies on the way. One minute until they intercept. I recommend that you turn south."

Jake closes his eyes, defeated.

He can see it: Cyclone in the control room, looking at the screens, calculating the squad's chances based on distance, the fuel they have left, their combat capability after losing the leader, and the fifth-generation planes approaching them. There is also, of course, the political implications: he already lost Maverick, Iceman may accept it, but if he loses Rooster...

His orders do not surprise him.

"Daggers, flow back," orders the communications officer. "Enemies are on the way."

"What about Maverick?" -Rooster demands desperately.

Simpson breaks protocol and speaks to them directly.

"There is nothing you can do for him. Not in a fucking F-18."

A part of Jake, the cold and cruel part that sometimes comes to the surface (which he hates because it makes him feel close to Kazansky), understands that it is the only reasonable order. But Jake is not only a cold and calculating aviator, he is also a Mitchell: there is no mission impossible for him, as there were none for his father or grandfather.

"Dagger Reserve requesting permission for protection flight."

"Negative, Reserve."

There is noise on the radio as if they were arguing in the command room. Finally, Cyclone raises his voice so much that they can hear him through the communications officer's microphone.

"We're not losing anyone else!"

"Daggers," Control instructs, "do not engage. Dagger Two, Return to carrier. Acknowledge."

"Rooster," Natasha implores, "those bandits are closing. We can't go back."

"Rooster... He's gone."

Jake knows that Bob is trying to help, that he wants to save his friend's life, but it feels like a betrayal. He knows his brother thinks the same. Plus, there is the prophecy. His father is the second death. Will what Bradley does count, even though they are not blood-related? What do the powers that fuel Ray Seresin's visions understand as "your blood"?

Desperate, he bangs his fists against the side of the cabin and sobs openly.

He doesn't care what they say.

What good is that ghost if it can't even save his family?

He looks for the shadow to give him a death glare and sees it.

God of heaven!

The shadow has detached itself from the wall and is moving towards the plane. Little by little, it loses sharpness while its contours contract and adjust until it becomes the translucent image of a man. A man he knows perfectly.

Is he hallucinating?

It is the only possible explanation for Tom Iceman Kazansky crossing the USS Roosevelt's deck and jumping onto his plane's nose. It's either that or, on top of everything else, Iceman has magic. In that case he is facing... an astral projection?

Kazansky's mirage smiles at him. When he separates his lips, there is nothing. Literally: no teeth, no gums, no tongue. Through the gap in his mouth, the absolute darkness that has followed him since they boarded. It is awful. He once told him he was a monster, but he didn't expect it to be literal.

Iceman raises a hand and waves it back and forth, waving. Jake forces himself to return the gesture. The ghost nods, seeming satisfied with his answer. Have they established communication?

Iceman raises his right hand with his fingers extended. Then, speaks very slowly, although no sounds comes out. Jake forces himself to overcome his fear of seeing that window of darkness and tries to recognize the word.

"Five?"

Iceman nods. He slowly bends his thumb toward the center of his palm and points at Jake with the index finger of his left hand. Does he refer to…?

"One mine?"

The mirage nods again. It is clear that Kazansky knows about the prophecy.

Now, the man tilts his head and puts his left hand behind his ear as if trying to listen to something very far away. He extends his arm towards the west, towards Sakha-Yakutia, and bends the index finger of his right hand.

"I know it!" -Jake yells.

But Iceman looks at him tenderly and shakes his head. Oh! Is he wrong? Isn't his father dead?

The radio activates.

"Dagger Two is hit."

Jake roars with rage and helplessness. This is bullshit! Damned be Rachel Seresin a thousand times. Damned, her legacy, and her mystery. He doesn't want anything from her. Nothing! He had a family, and he lost it to a mirage.

Iceman is still sitting in front of his cabin. He looks at him with calm, confident eyes. His right hand still has three fingers extended.

"Bradley hasn't died?"

His lips twist into a sly smile. Shakes his head.

"Dad?"

New shake.

He blinks, confused. But then…? Iceman is moving his lips again.

"Wait? What do I have to wait for?"

Iceman just gives him a kind, trusting look. Oh!

"OK."

Kazansky stops paying attention to him. His eyes are closed, his face is lax, and his image is even fainter, almost invisible.

 

Southeastern end of the Verkhoyansk Range

 

"You should be on the carrier by now!"

"I saved your life!"

"I saved your life! That's what it was all about! I'm your father Bradley, that's how it works. What the hell were you thinking?"

"You told me not to think!" -he replies, opening his arms.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but Ray - or Tom? - appears right behind his son.

"Maverick!" -he shouts- "There is no time to fight now."

This is too much. Pete puts his hands on his knees and huffs.

"Tell me," he replies under his breath.

He can't explain to Bradley now that he's talking to a man in an office in San Diego and another man sleeping in a cabin in Dakota.

"Go to the airfield. Goose will help you fly back" -and disappears.

Brilliant! Just great.

"It's good to see you," he finally says to Bradley, and it's true.

"It's good to see you too. You know, alive."

Pete nods because, yes, he has to admit that being alive is good. Although his body is reminding him that this is the second time he has been thrown out of a moving plane in a month.

"So, what's the plan?" -Bradley asks when he finishes folding his parachute.

Because his trust in him has not diminished one bit. Pete smacks his lips and sighs. He doesn't have a plan, but he does have a path to move towards.

"Come on."

At least he won't have to feign surprise when they find whatever is supposed to help them get back. What a Mission! He hopes Russia finally invades this shitty republic and things go back to the way they were before.

When what's left of the airfield finally comes into view, Pete realizes that the cryptic phrase that led them there is perfect.

"For real?" -his son's incredulity is understandable. "An F-14?"

The truth is that he has a hard time believing it, too. Is this Goose's idea of a joke? But there is no other choice either, the Tomahawks swept everything else.

Ten minutes later, they are leaving the hangar.

"Canopy?" -he checks.

"Clear!" -Bradley answers from the backseat.

"Yes, he has grown." -Nick comments, hanging from the descending canopy.

"What the hell?"

His brother just laughs. Behind his back, Bradley worries.

"Did something happen?"

"No," he forces himself to say.

Nick is sitting on the wing with his legs dangling. He has the flight suit he died in, including the helmet. A trickle of dried blood runs down his temple.

"Come on." -Nick says relaxed. "I want to finally meet the renowned Hangman. Carole never gets tired of talking about him."

"Uh," Mav answers.

Yeah. After this, he will accept a promotion or retirement. He can't fly anymore. He concentrates on studying the airfield. Well, what's left of it.

"How are we going to put this museum piece in the air?" -Rooster wonders.

Goose just looks at Mav and winks.

"This seat is a little narrow," he says casually.

Pete nods and activates the control to spread the wings. He ignores Bradley's reasoning, enjoys Nick's amused laugh -how he's missed it!- and finally tells his son.

"Just hold on."

"Tell me, Mav, are do you feel it?" -Goose asks, a manic glint in his wide eyes.

"Feel what? Come on, baby, speed up." -he pledges to the plane.

"I feel the need." -Nick raises his arms, the speedometer shakes- "The need…"

He turns to him. Blood is running down his forehead, but air blows and makes it drip around his face. The speedometer needle jumps again.

"The need..." he repeats, looking at him expectantly.

"Mav?" -Bradley asks behind him, understandably worried about the pair of tanks closing the very short taxiway.

Maverick understands.

"The need for speed!" -he shouts fervently.

They take flight between Nick's laughter and Bradley's screams.

 

USS Theodore Roosevelt, Sea of Okhotsk

 

Kazansky seems to be waking up. Can an apparition be awakened? Jake doesn't have time to think about it. The mirage colors become more intense, and he opens his eyes at the same time that the radio activates.

"Sir," flight control reports, "we are receiving Rooster's GPS signal. But there seems to be a malfunction..." -he pauses and explains- "He is supersonic."

Iceman looks at him, calculating. Jake knows that expression: deciding if the next step is worth it.

"I'll do it," he assures him without stopping to think about what he could ask him to do. "Just put me in the air."

The ghost nods, blows him a kiss, and vanishes.

"Sir," -another air control officer reports- "Radar shows an F-14 Tomcat on its way to our position."

"Old man, how do you manage to do this kind of thing?"

 

Navy Headquarters Control Room, San Diego, California

 

The Admiral leaves his office with a determined expression.

"Get me Simpson on the USS Roosevelt."

Less than a minute later, he has Cyclone on the phone.

 

USS Theodore Roosevelt, Sea of Okhotsk

 

He's been waiting for this call since Maverick was hit.

"Admiral Kazansky…"

"We don't have time for that, Cyclone. Just put Seresin in the air."

"But sir..."

"Now, Vice Admiral Simpson. Send Lieutenant Seresin to make cover flight for Captain Mitchell and Lieutenant Bradshaw. It is a direct order."

He hangs.

Wow! The man is furious, but at the same time… Beau can see the two enemy fifth-gen fighters approaching the Tomcat. It is an impossible fight. Maverick himself didn't think he could outrun one of those with an F-18. What is one F-14 going to do against two? He knows that the Fleet Commander has access to the same information. What does Kazansky see that escapes him? How is Seresin going to tip the balance at this point? It doesn't matter. It is a direct order.

He returns the phone handset to its cradle and turns to the air traffic control officer.

"Prepare the catapult for Dagger Spare."

 

Southeastern end of the Verkhoyansk Range

 

"Get us in touch with the boat." -Maverick instructs.

"This is a museum piece. What do I do?"

"First the radio. Check the…"

He looks at Nick, expecting some help, but his late RIO is taking pictures of the landscape!? Exasperated, he closes his eyes to force his memory.

"UHF-2 circuit breaker, I think it was called."

"There are about three hundred circuit breakers here. Anything more specific?"

"I don't know. That was your dad's department."

He looks meaningfully at Goose, but his brother just smiles and shrugs.

"I'll figure it out," Bradley says fervently, and his biological father's eyes shine with pride.

Maverick snorts. The dead are the most incomprehensible people in the world, really.

"Don't worry too much about the radio." -advises the ghost- "There are more urgent things."

Pete raises his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Mav, tally two, down, at five," Bradley warns. "What do we do?"

Pete looks at the fifth-gen fighters and looks at his brother. Nick smiles maniacally.

"Use your charm, Mav," he says as he leans back on the wing and rests his head between the intertwined fingers of his hands.

When he arrives on land, he will spend a good time at the Miramar cemetery, telling Carole everything he thinks about Nick's visiting performance and his terrible sense of humor.

"Just be cool." -he instructs Bradley- "If they knew who we are, we'd be dead already. Masks on."

He makes nice as much as he can, but finally…

"Can we outrun these guys?"

"Not from their missiles and projectiles."

"Then it's a dogfight." -Bradley nods.

"In an F-14. Against fifth-gen fighters?"

Nick gets up, walks along the wing to where it joins the plane's body, and sits cross-legged.

"Have combat planes changed that much since we stopped flying together?"

"More than thirty years have passed since this plane was the king of the skies." -Pete answers to both.

"It's not the plane, it's the pilot." -Bradley replies.

Goose pouts.

"You never took me to a real dogfight. That's why I can't pass to the other side."

Maverick rolls his eyes at his RIO's childish argument. Doesn't he realize they have the kid with them?

"You'd take 'em on if I wasn't here. Right? "-his son gently accuses.

Goose gives him an amused but also demanding look. Are they going to gang up on him? It is a moot question.

"But you are here."

"Mav, he is here precisely because he is not a kid anymore."

"Don't think, just do." -Bradley quotes him.

"Also," - Goose gets up again, jumps on top of the canopy, and taps a couple of times above his son's head - "the ejection handle on this thing doesn't work."

A chill runs through him. Nick is writhing with laughter above their heads. He crawls to the front of the cabin and presses his face to the glass. His head is upside down, eyes level with Maverick's.

"So, did I have to give enough motivation to make history?" -he looks pretty proud of himself.

Pete doesn't say a word.

Inspire.

Exhale.

Maverick turns hard to the right as he opens fire on one of the jets. He manages to damage its left engine, and the plane falls into a spiral of fire.

"Damn! A warning next time?" -Bradley complains.

"Tell me when you see smoke in the air." -he orders and climbs.

"Of course," Nick promises vehemently, sitting cross-legged on the canopy.

The second jet begins to follow them and soon fires.

"Smoke in the air," Rooster warns.

Maverick turns toward the falling plane.

"Oh! You are making the stitch back." -the ghost praises "Sleek!"

Pete growls. He dives down towards the smoking bandit and breaks

left directly in front of it. The missile heading for them diverts to the higher temp fifth-gen, destroying it in a colossal explosion as the F-14 narrowly misses the blast.

"You know?" Nick comments as he pushes away a piece of metal approaching them with his hand. "Flying with you is as fun as I remembered."

"That was very good," Rooster praises.

"Yes, but..."

"Smoke in the air." -Goose interrupts.

They climb again.

"Flares, Rooster."

Maverick uses the momentum to reverse and spin as soon as the missile is destroyed. They end up behind the enemy jet. It's their chance to fire. As soon as he gets tone, Mav fires the sidewinder.

But the other plane uses its thrust vectors to get vertical and then makes a short loop around the missile. The projectile passes by. The jet, taking advantage of its own inertia and the speed of the F-14, passes by them and returns to their tail.

"Holy shit! How the hell did they do that?" -it is evident that Rooster does not know whether to feel terror or ecstasy.

"Well, fighter jets really have changed since I died," Nick admits.

"We have to go down. The terrain will confuse its weapons system."

He manages to enter the canyon and accelerates. Behind them, the jet fires a burst of bullets.

"Don't stop!" -Nick shouts and runs towards the line, where he begins to repel bullets with his hands.

Clearly, gravity does not affect him, so Maverick leans forward to follow the river's path toward the sea.

"He hit us!" -Rooster announces.

"Damm!"

"Pete, if you learned any new shit tricks in these thirty years, it's time to use it." -Goose suggests.

"Hold on!" -Mav orders.

Maverick flies upwards, then splits the throttle, pushing the F-14 into a pirouette at full power. They come down behind the fifth-gen, and Maverick rushes to fire a missile.

The jet launches its flares and takes out the missile.

Pete switches to guns and starts firing, but the jet evades using its speed.

"Talk to me, Goose."

"You only have 33 bullets left. Wait," says the RIO, who is suddenly at the side of the cabin.

Pete nods. He takes his finger off the trigger and focuses on shortening the distance. They reach an almost straight section of the canyon.

"Mav, when I tell you you are going to shoot until there are ten bullets left, wait three seconds, and shoot the rest. You can do it?"

It's an oddly specific instruction, but he nods anyway.

"Good. Now!"

He hits it, and the jet loses control and tilts. When he fires the final round, it explodes like...

"Great balls of fire!" -Nick raises his fist in a victory gesture- "Very good, we almost reached the sea." -he climbs back onto the cabin- "Our part is done."

Our part? What does that mean?

"Mav," Bradley calls, scared.

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm hallucinating."

"Oh! Well, it's been a day full of emotions. Adrenaline overdoses affect each person differently. Is your hallucination dangerous?"

"Well... I see my father lying on top of the canopy."

"Goose."

"Yes, Mav?"

"Why can Bradley see you?"

"You can see him?!"

"Of course he can see me, Brad Brad," Nick replies relaxedly. "You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you," and smiles proudly.

"Are we dead?"

"Of course not!" -his father snorts- "I have worked very hard to get you out of Yakutia alive. Just do me a favor and settle down with... Look, the truth is that it's kind of confusing to me. Should I call Blue boy or girl?

"Weeeell."

Rooster is locked in the cockpit of an F-14 flying over the sea. He has no choice but to remain in this bizarre conversation that brings together two of the things he never expected to have in life: his biological father commenting on his love life and the challenge of explaining the identity of his lover.

"Blue is a non-binary person, so I usually avoid gendered pronouns and articles and that's it."

"How clever!" -Nick agrees delightedly- "Well, then settle down your Blue and have children. I want to be a grandfather. You see? I used a gender-neutral noun."

"Good for you, Nick." -Pete adds sarcastically- "You are a ghost that respects diversity."

"Thank you. Doing the right thing gives good karma, even after death." -he looks at his son again- "So, will you give them that ring?"

"You know about the ring?!"

"You bought a ring!?"

Both Bradshaws ignore Maverick.

"Of course, we know about the ring. Your mom likes it a lot. She says thanks, by the way, for not using hers. Mav, Carole wants you to give her ring to Jake."

"OK."

"Very good. Bradley, the UHF-2 switch is to your right in the lower line."

"Did you knew that all this time?"

"I wanted to have a little chat with my son!"

"I swear, Nick, you're just as annoying, just as annoying, as when you were alive. Rooster, turn that thing on and call the boat."

"Understood."

Rooster turns the UHF-2 on. Radio and radar screens come to life. The proximity alarm starts to sound.

"It's not possible," Pete complains.

They both start looking around.

"Where the hell is it?" -Bradley snorts.

"In front of us," Maverick whispers.

"Can we…?"

"No. We spent our last bullets on the river."

He looks at Nick, who has sat cross-legged on the F-14 nose, and scans the horizon. What does he wait for?

"Smoke in the air!" -Bradley warns.

The enemy jet has launched a missile. Mav twists and does a half-turn.

"Flares!" -he orders.

They evade the missile, but the jet passes them by and begins to turn to position itself on their tail.

"It's on top of us!" -Rooster warns.

They have no ammunition, no flares, they cannot eject. The boat is three minutes away.

"Talk to me, Goose," Maverick implores.

"Come on, Mav." -answers his RIO with a playful expression- "You didn't think your wingman would leave you hanging. Rigth?"

The enemy jet explodes, and an F-18 emerges from the smoke and fire.

"Well, that's my cue. It was a pleasure flying with you, Brad. Tell Tom that now we know who's the best pilot," -he points to the approaching F-18- "I promise you, he won't be angry."

He opens his arms and falls back. Before they can say anything else, Jake's voice surprises them over the radio.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is your savior speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their upright and locked, return the seats to the upright position and prepare for landing."

Bradley bursts out laughing.

"Hey, Hangman, you look good."

"I'm good, Rooster. I am very good."

"Yes, you are," Maverick confirms in an enraptured voice.

Jake smiles at them.

"See you on the boat."

And he flies forward to give the landing crew time to move his F-18 out of the way.

"Maverick to USS Roosevelt Comanche. We have wind in our tale. We have no landing gear or tail hook. Remove the cable, raise the barricade."

Partly to give the deck crew time to clear the runway and open the barricade, partly because he fears he will never be able to do so again, Maverick circles around and buzzes the control tower. Simpson's irritated expression is priceless.

An irregular sound shakes the plane as they prepare for the final maneuver.

"Please, don't tell me we lost an engine." -Bradley pleads

"Ok, I won't tell you."

"Thank you," his son sighs and lies back, waiting for the impact when they hit the boat.

They throw themselves against the steel mesh. They burn the track. While they wait for the team to put out the small fire and give them the go-ahead to leave, Maverick asks.

"Are you ok?"

Rooster thinks about it a bit. The day had everything: he thought his father had died, his plane was shot down, they stole this museum piece, he was in a dogfight with fifth-generation jets, and, for the grand finale, he spoke with his father's ghost. Because ghosts are a thing now. And Mav didn't seem surprised. But they are alive. He can see that his brother is waiting for them on the ground because he talks to their father again.

"Yes, I'm fine," he decides.

When they finally leave the cabin, Jake and Brig help them down. A sea of people surrounds them, cheering and patting them on the back. Jake gives his father and brother an intense hug.

"Don't scare me like that again," he demands with tears in his eyes.

Mav goes to say something, but they call him somewhere else. He turns around, although he makes no effort to separate himself from them.

"Captain Mitchell, sir."

Natasha is making her way through the crowd. The rest of the squad follows her.

"Lieutenant Phoenix…"

She is not able to articulate words. So she throws her arms around Maverick in poorly concealed desperation, and the rest of the group follows suit. They end up in a giant collective hug.

"Maverick," Coyote tells him between sobs.

"Yes, Lieutenant Machado?"

"Did you say you had four children?"

"Yeah."

"I think you just got a dozen more."

"He doesn't have the energy to correct him.

 It doesn't matter what happens when they get to San Diego.

 It doesn't matter if they retire him for being crazy when they listen to the F-14's black box.

Right now, he is happy.