Top Gun: Legacy

It has been two years since Pete "Maverick" Mitchell returned from the Dagger mission. Since then, he retired, and married Penny Benjamin. Now, another dangerous mission has materialized on the Navy's radar, requiring the finest pilots, and this time, the finest scientific minds have been recruited to gather much needed intelligence. In this, passing of the torch, story, Maverick guides the original Dagger pilots and some new fresh-faced pilots, along with a team of scientists to successfully complete the new mission and bring home the data the US government needs. Tempers run hot, hearts will be broken, and that's only the first day back on base. Please enjoy this work of fiction that imagines a trilogy of Top Gun films to usher in the next generation of Naval Aviators as they take over the reins at North Island and beyond.

Rated M for language, moderate sexual descriptions, and innuendos not suitable for younger audiences. This is a work of fiction, any characters or geopolitical situations that mimic real individuals or world events is done purely for entertainment purposes only.

Prologue

Happy endings never elaborate on the mundane, everyday life that inevitably follows the "happy ending." We are left to imagine that the prince and princess ride off into the sunset and no one ever clogs the palace toilet, or gets the stomach flu. There's never a flat tire, or a burst pipe. The washing machine never over flows in the basement, and the fence never needs repairs. No, everything is just perfect.

For Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and Penny Benjamin-Mitchell, the happy ending was short lived. After Pete's great exploits in leading his team of "Dagger" pilots in the successful precision bombing of a nuclear enrichment facility belonging to a hostile nation, the Navy graciously accepted his retirement notice. Shortly after, Pete proposed to Penny and the pair were married in a beautiful beach side ceremony with an intimate reception at the bar Penny had purchased years earlier, "The Hard Deck." In attendance were many pilots, and seamen and women who had grown fond of Pete throughout his years of service. Even Penny's father, Retired Admiral Robert Benjamin, who had undoubtedly held a strong dislike for Pete, ever since he had taken an F-14 in the wee hours of the morning for a joy ride—with Penny in the backseat! On that day, Bob Benjamin smiled heartily as he watched his daughter finally marry the man she had loved for decades. Penny's daughter, Amelia, served as the maid of honor, and Pete's unofficially-adoptive son, Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, was the best man.

A short honeymoon in the Caribbean followed and when they returned home, they settled into their happily ever after routine. Pete opened an aircraft repair and restoration shop out of his personal hangar, and in the evenings, he helped Penny with The Hard Deck.

And that brings us to today, nearly two years into their marriage, Pete received a recall notice from the Navy. He was requested to once again train pilots for a nearly impossible mission. There were concerns that a hostile nation was bioengineering deadly viruses to be used as bioweapons, while simultaneously enriching uranium for its newly established nuclear arsenal. The military brazenness of this nation put its NATO neighbors on high alert. There were repeated intrusions into the airspace of neighboring countries, leading to some dangerous encounters. The USA was now having to supply weapons, jets, deterrence systems, and increase troop presences on NATO allied bases. So, the DoD decided that it was time to send a clear message.

"Penny," he clutched the letter in his hand, "They want me back at Topgun."

"Absolutely not." Penny shot back, "Do you remember what happened last time?" She reminded Pete that he was shot down and had to commandeer an old F-14 from the enemy's air field to fly back to the carrier, and land without the front landing gear, and only one engine, all the while Rooster was in the backseat.

"I know, Pen…" he handed her the letter, "They made it clear that I am in command of the team and their training, but will not be flying on the mission." Penny nodded slowly,

"I still don't like it, but I know I can't stop you." she wiped dry a pilsner glass before setting it in a plastic crate for use this evening at The Hard Deck.

"You know I miss it, Pen." She nodded,

"I know. So, go do what you have to do, and then come home to me." She leaned over the bar and kissed his cheek. With that, she gave him the only permission he needed. He called the Admiral in charge and agreed to train the pilots, as long as he could choose them, and as long as he would be there with them every step of the way—including on the aircraft carrier as the mission launched.

The top brass agreed and he was granted clearances and access back to Fightertown U.S.A, AKA TopGun.

Chapter 1. Moving Day

Odd as it may sound. Pete "Maverick" Mitchell's return to Topgun was not the biggest buzz around Fightertown. Word on the street was that the mission had enlisted a couple of civilian contractors who came from academia. Their job was highly classified, but it was important enough that they were to be given their own laboratory in a hangar on base—with extremely restricted access.

On this particular sunny morning, Penny and Pete pulled up in their classic corvette convertible behind a U-Haul truck on the curb of a house along Ocean Street. Penny's father had agreed to rent one of his properties near the base to a scientist who was one of the mysterious civilian contractors. All Penny knew was that her name was Dr. Kate Norris, and she was arriving today to pick up keys. The house had mostly sat empty the past year, and so Retired Admiral Benjamin had sent a U-Haul with some excess furniture from their summer house in Napa Valley. Earlier in the morning, Pete had sent a quick text to Rooster and asked him to help move the furniture in. He hadn't heard anything and assumed the pilot was still asleep—perhaps not even asleep in his own bed.

"Have you heard anything from Rooster?" Penny instinctively asked. She always had a habit of knowing what was on Pete's mind.

"He'll be here." Pete had confidence that the man he practically raised would show. And sure enough, the rumble of Rooster's old Bronco, the same pickup that his father had driven, roared up behind their corvette (which sat behind the U-Haul).

"See." Pete smiled at Penny. Rooster hopped out of the Bronco and saddled up to the side of the corvette,

"Hey Penny—how are you?"

"Good, Bradley. Are you ready to help us move some furniture?"

"You betcha." He looked over at Pete, "So, who is moving in here?"

"A scientist—civilian contractor from the DoD." Pete filled him in, "Her name is Kate Norris."

At that moment, a Subaru Crosstrek with Illinois plates cautiously pulled up behind Rooster's Bronco, and sat for a moment, the engine idled almost silently before the trio of Penny, Pete, and Rooster figured out that it was a hybrid. They could barely see the driver whose eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, but Penny could tell it was a woman of petite or slender build. Penny hurried up to the car and knocked on the passenger's side window; it rolled down quickly.

"Hi, Kate? I'm Penny Mitchell—we spoke on the phone. My father is Bob Benjamin."

"Thank you for meeting me on such short notice—I just received my...orders—I guess that's what they're called—last week, and all the on-base housing was full. I really appreciate your help." Kate turned off the car and hopped out quickly. She was tall, perhaps 5'9", slender, but with gentle curves. Her hair was a soft bronzed brunette that shone in the sun, and she had pulled it back into a messy, low bun; small whisps of hair framed her face and danced in the teasing sea breeze. Her lips were the perfect shade of rosy pink, and her cheeks seemed to match. As she slid her tortoiseshell brown sunglasses onto the top of her head, her beautiful brown doe eyes sparkled, as they were framed by the perfectly arched brows—not too sharp to appear angry, and not too rounded to appear perpetually surprised. She wore a simple pair of jeans and a linen button down shirt, half tucked into the hip of her jeans. A pair of tanned leather driving shoes completed her effortlessly chic outfit—which also happened to compliment her pleasant demeanor.

Pete leaned over to Rooster,

"Pick your jaw up off the ground…" Rooster quickly closed his mouth and swallowed hard into the back of his throat as Kate approached. Penny facilitated the introductions,

"Kate, this is my husband Pete—he is retired from Naval Aviation." Kate sweetly smiled and shook his hand,

"Nice to meet you, Pete." she said, her voice soft, but with a necessary firmness.

"And this…" Penny turned to Rooster, "is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw—we call him by his call sign, which is Rooster." Kate held out her hand and Rooster firmly grasped,

"It's-" his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, bringing back a less adolescent and more masculine tone, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kate." As he released her hand, he nervously tousled his deep brown hair.

"You too, Rooster. Thank you for helping me move in." And with that, Penny began directing the men,

"Pete, Rooster, can you get the U-Haul opened up. I'm going to get Kate inside and show her around." She grabbed a bucket, mop, and a few microfiber cloths from the trunk of the Corvette before the two women walked up the front walk and onto the porch where Penny let Kate do the honors of opening the front door.

At that moment, a white Camaro sped around the corner, stopped at the tailgate of the U-Haul, and the passenger side window rolled down,

"Bradshaw! As I live and breathe-" Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin chuckled to himself; his Texan drawl hardly masked. He slid his aviator sunglasses down on the bridge of his perfectly straight nose and laughed lightly. Rooster peeked out from inside the cargo hold of the U-Haul,

"Hangman!" He hopped down and hurried over to the Camaro, "What are you doing in town?"

"I've been recalled to Topgun for a mission." The two men briefly clasped hands through the open passenger's window.

"Looks like we might be recalled for the same mission."

"When did you get in?" Hangman asked.

"Tuesday." Rooster replied, insinuating he had been in town three days prior, as today was Friday.

"I just got in last night. I didn't see you at The Hard Deck!" he mused.

"I called it an early night last night."

"I better see you there tonight," Hangman pushed his aviator sunglasses back into place over his icy blue eyes, "There are lots of lonely gals looking for Navy husbands!" He laughed before slamming his foot into the accelerator and zooming away with squealing tires.

Kate and Penny re-emerged from the house, and all appearances indicated a happy tenant as Kate beamed and spoke highly of the charming interior. Penny hurried over to the back of the U-Haul and Kate started for her Subaru to begin unloading suitcases from the trunk.

"Rooster?" Penny began, with a slight twinkle in her eye, "Why don't you help Kate with her suitcases?"

"Are you sure? I thought I was supposed to do the heavy lifting? Like couches...and dining room table..."

"Yes, you will, but I think you might want to get to know Kate." Rooster nodded and hopped down from the back of the U-Haul. Pete watched Penny's smile of satisfaction spread across her face, as she watched Rooster hurry up to Kate and help her pull a heavy suitcase from the back end of her little SUV.

"Subtle." Pete hinted with a distinct overtone of sarcasm.

"I like her, Pete. She's very sweet, and incredibly smart. Did you know she has a PhD from Harvard? In Biosystems Engineering and Bioinformatics—whatever that is."

"So, you are trying to set Rooster up with her?"

"She's single, a professor at Northwestern University in Chicago, she told me she wanted an adventure and that's why she jumped at the DoD's offer to be a civilian contractor for the Navy."

"You know, he's like my son…"

"I know you are protective of him—but he needs someone like her—not another month-long drama with one of the girls who hangs out at The Hard Deck, hoping for a Navy husband."

"Huh...you know...I remember an admiral's daughter who hung out at The Hard Deck, hoping to be a-"

"Don't you dare say it, Pete!" Penny threw a playful punch his way. He threw up his hands in surrender.

Inside the house, Rooster was rolling one of the massive suitcases into the master bedroom; Kate followed with a pair of duffle bags. The room was incredibly large with a beautiful marble tiled bathroom, that had been recently updated, just next to the massive walk-in closet with built in fixtures. But despite all that, it was empty, save a single Persian style rug that took up most of the hardwood floor. Soft ivory sheer drapes hung over the windows, casting a warm glow across the room, but still affording some privacy.

"Do you want me to just roll this into the closet?" Rooster asked.

"Sure." Kate smiled as she set down the pair of duffle bags against the wall.

"So," Rooster emerged from placing the suitcase in the closet, "what do you do when you're not contracting for the Navy?"

"I'm a professor at Northwestern University." She smiled.

"Oh, wow-" He suddenly felt incredibly intimidated, this was an emotion he hadn't felt in this capacity before. Women didn't usually make him feel this vulnerable.

"Penny tells me you pilot the F-18?" her voice brought him back from the dark emotional space he was creeping into.

"Yeah. Not quite as impressive as being a professor." They sauntered back toward the bedroom door.

"I disagree." She said softly, "I think it's very impressive to be a pilot for the Navy. In fact, I might have to pick your brain about the F-18 and its airframe stability sometime."

"Really?" he lit up, "I suppose I could be a professor for F-18 101: Basic piloting." They both found themselves standing in the door frame of the master bedroom,

"Hey, um…" Rooster rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "Some of the other pilots and I are going to Penny and Pete's bar, The Hard Deck, tonight. You should come." She stepped past him and into the short hallway,

"I don't want to commit myself in case I can't make it, but I have a meeting this afternoon with some of the Pacific Fleet's top brass. I hate to admit, I don't know them, or their ranks. But, myself and the other civilian contractor will be there, and I don't know how long of a meeting it will be."

"We usually close the place down." He followed her down the hallway and out the front door, onto the porch, "So you could show up at any time and we'd be there. I can guarantee it."

"Alright." Her smile could unlock any door, it was bright and warm, and inviting, "I'll stop by after the meeting."

Pete and Penny watched the pair trot down the porch steps and back to the little SUV to unload the last two suitcases and a handful of boxes. Rooster nearly couldn't lift one of the bigger suitcases,

"What do you have in here? Bricks?"

"Close. Computers." She replied, "Here, I can help you." He struggled,

"Did you load this into your car? By yourself?" He panted, clearly having a hard time maneuvering the case out of the back end.

"I did." she grasped hold of the side handle and helped him lift it up and out of the trunk space. He was again, incredibly intimidated, but this time, more impressed. She was an enigma, smart, sweet, gorgeous, and strong—with a side of wit, too. They each loaded their arms up with fodder to unpack later and made their way into the house.

Pete and Penny pulled a few dining room chairs and kitchen island stools out from the U-Haul, and slowly made their way into the house with the items. Pete started scooting the stools in under the overhang of the kitchen island, making a ruckus. Penny abruptly shushed him,

Be quiet, she mouthed to him, I want to hear what they are saying! She snuck closer to the hallway to eavesdrop on their conversation in the master bedroom.

"...I have a younger brother." Kate said, "He works in DC." She hinted at the nation's capital.

"Wow, you have a high achieving family." Rooster's voice spoke up.

"What about you? Your parents or siblings live nearby?"

"Both of my parents have passed. My dad was in the Navy. He was Maverick-Pete's back seat in the F-14. There was an accident, and Pete survived, my dad didn't. Pete basically raised me—we've had our issues, but things are good now. My mom died of cancer a while back. And my stepsister and her family live in Huntington Beach."

"I'm so sorry."

"No, no—I didn't mean to be a downer. I'm still close with Nora, my stepsister, and my nieces and nephews. Her husband is a real estate agent for multimillion dollar homes, so they are set for life." He laughed, "They always have wild Christmas presents."

There was a loud thud, and a zipper pulling apart.

"You weren't kidding!" Rooster crowed, "How many computers do you have in there?"

"Four, and two small servers—I really dominate in Minecraft." She joked in reply. Rooster whistled,

"You're a computer nerd!"

"Guilty!" The pair laughed.

Penny tiptoed back to Pete in the kitchen, beaming. By now, Pete had quietly set out all the island stools, and brought in another load of dining table chairs, as well as all the materials for the canopy bedframe that wreaked of Pottery Barn, and the bedside tables.

"Can I interrupt them?" He asked Penny, "I need Rooster to help me with the couch, tv and console table—well, basically everything but the five lamps I left for you."

By the time lunch rolled around, Penny sent Pete to pick up some sub sandwiches from the deli just down the road, and she and Kate worked on getting the dining table and chairs into position so they could all eat. The couch had been moved in, the bedframe, mattress and box spring assembled and put into place in the master bedroom. The tv was connected to the cable and it was beginning to feel like a home that Kate could occupy for the duration of her 12-month contract with the Navy. Penny's father had also sent several pots, pans, baking sheets, and odd kitchen appliances along in some boxes that Pete had discovered behind the couch in the U-Haul.

Rooster emerged from the bedroom with a screwdriver and announced that he had fixed the dangling light fixture over the bathroom vanity and it was now fully secured. He and Kate pulled the disassembled futon from the back of her little SUV and reassembled that in the guest room. Penny eagerly listened to their lighthearted conversations from just outside the door.

They swept the garage, and stowed any bins, boxes, or other packing materials in the spacious attached 2 car garage. Around then, Pete returned with three different options for sub sandwiches: Turkey and cheese, Roast beef, and Salami. Penny and Kate found and rinsed off some plates, cut the sandwiches in half, poured some glasses of chilled lemonade, and everyone sat down to eat. Rooster sat right next to Kate; their chairs were nearly touching they were so close. Pete looked over to Penny, who was quite proud of herself and her matchmaking progress, as they all ate and chatted about the coming Monday. All three, Pete, Rooster, and Kate were going to report to base for briefings and endless meetings. Despite the constant flow of conversation, Penny noticed, Rooster couldn't take his eyes off Kate.

After cleaning up the table, Pete and Rooster finished assembling an IKEA desk and bookcase in the guest room/office, and Kate and Penny dusted, vacuumed, swept, and mopped. The house had been in rather good shape, despite sitting empty for over a year. Around 1:30 in the afternoon, Kate announced she needed to prepare for her 3:00 meeting up at the base. She wanted to be early to avoid delays with her credential processing. Penny and Pete excused themselves and left, and Rooster lingered a moment after,

"I hope you'll make it tonight." He reminded her that The Hard Deck invitation still stood.

"I'm going to try. Like I said, I don't know how late the meeting will go, and I have so much to unpack still."

"I'll be there all night anyway." She walked him out onto the front porch. The afternoon glow only served to make her skin seem to glitter with a soft sun kissed tan. Rooster handed her a small piece of paper,

"My number…" he said, "In case you ever need anything."

"Thank you." She smiled sweetly, "You may regret having given me this." She waved the paper back and forth before sliding it gingerly into her back jean pocket.

"With great power, comes great responsibility." he quoted the Toby Macguire Spiderman line. They both chuckled before he trotted down the front steps and hopped into his Bronco. With a loud rumble, the Bronco started up and Rooster, giving one more wave to Kate on the front porch of her new temporary home, drove off down Ocean Street.

The meeting on base was delayed almost an hour as one of the Admirals (Rear Admiral Cain) was a late arrival. Kate had no trouble getting her base credentials, keys, ID badges, and laboratory door codes, despite her worries. The list of items she had provided to the DoD contact had been procured, and a stack of boxes sat in her empty lab; some boxes were neatly stacked on tables, others stacked on the floor. The Navy had built a smaller clean-lab inside of one of the teaching hangars on base. It was a temporary solution, but surprisingly well undertaken. The floor had been epoxied inside of the clean lab, which looked more like a small glass shipping container that sat within the main laboratory. Kate had been given the tour by one of the Admiral's aides to pass the time. When they returned to the conference room, she was greeted by the other civilian contractor: Dr. Johann (Hans) Mueller. Dr. Mueller was an MIT researcher in nuclear physics and in particular, long-range detection of nuclear signatures. His work was of particular interest to the military and despite his young age, he had already served twice as a civilian contractor for the DoD.

"Dr. Norris!" he leapt up from his seat and closed the distance between them instantaneously. Beaming, he grasped her hand and shook vigorously.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Mueller." Kate maintained her composure. She was dressed in, what she considered to be, a typical lecture day outfit; a pair of high waist, wide leg trousers in navy blue, and a crisp, white, satin blouse with a bow tied at the neck. She wore her hair in a low bun once again, and carried a clean cream-colored leather tote bag with a long strap. Her shoes had a modest heel—only a couple of inches—but that raised her above Dr. Mueller by a good 4-5 inches. He must not have been much over 5'7" or so.

At that moment, the door opened behind them, and in filed a line of Admirals, dressed in the Navy's tan uniform. Admiral Simpson, head of the Pacific Fleet's Naval Aviation, with his rugged good looks and icy stare, led the procession in. Following, were Admiral Bates and Rear Admiral Cain, and a handful of aides and other uniformed personnel.

"Drs. Mueller and Norris, please," Adm. Simpson gestured to two empty seats, "have a seat."

Kate and Hans graciously sat at the solid cherry wood table and turned their attention to the projector screen.

"As you know," Adm. Simpson continued, "we have contracted with you due to your individual fields of expertise. It goes without saying, that the information presented to you is highly classified in nature and should not be discussed with anyone outside of this room. We have a rule in the Navy when dealing with classified information, unless the other person brings it up, you don't talk about classified information." A low chuckle rose from the room, at the mention of is old adage; it essentially ensured that no one would ever bring up classified information.

"We expect you to complete all classified document and information training this coming week when you report. Don't be too anxious to hit the ground running, this is the US Navy, we are in fact a governmental entity, and as such, nothing moves quickly until it absolutely has to." Another chuckle worked its way through the room.

"You each have allotted budgets, which will be discussed with you individually when we meet next week. Now," he turned his attention to the projector screen, "Why you are here." The screen illuminated with several satellite images.

"These were taken within the last 48 hours. The images on the left depict a suspected bioweapons facility and the right, a uranium enrichment facility. Both are housed in a hostile nation state, and our NATO allies have been begging for intervention. We cannot officially intervene without the threat of all-out war—which we do not want. The military capabilities of this nation are undoubtedly advanced and would give us a run for our money. So, we are going to deploy aircraft mounted probes to gather as much information about the area as possible—this is where you come in. You both have devised successful means of detecting and testing for specific biological or nuclear components, we need you to turn that technology into a probe that can be mounted and deployed from an F-18 jet." He advanced the projector slide to show the schematics of the F-18.

"This will not be an easy task, and we have pilots on base training for the flight portion of the mission starting this coming week. They will train for as long as it takes for you to develop this probe, but your contracts expire in a year. We do expect to have the mission completed well in advance before then. In fact, I have devised a seven-month timeline for completion. As of now, we have high altitude surveillance aircraft and satellite monitoring the sites." He continued,

"We will work with you to get you the information and materials where we can and as we can, but this will be a career defining task we have given you."

After the meeting ended, Adm. Simpson dismissed everyone but Kate and Hans. He sat opposite the two PhDs, his reflection gleaming on the polished cherry wood table.

"I think it goes without saying, you have a hefty task to bear. If you need anything at all, please come directly to me."

"Of course, Admiral." Hans spoke through a noticeable German accent, "We truly appreciate this opportunity and hope we can serve the Navy proudly." As the MIT scientist spoke, Adm. Simpson didn't take his eyes from Kate. Although, she watched Hans intently. She was truly not what he had expected. In truth, he figured Dr. Norris was a man. He didn't consider himself to be a misogynist or anti-feminist, but he was surprised to see her sitting there, so accomplished, so confident, so smart, and such a classic beauty. Adm. Beau Simpson had never married, he never had time for that as a Naval Aviator, and as Kate's deep brown eyes met his, he drew in his breath sharply, thinking to himself, get real, Beau, she's probably 20 years your junior. He was in his mid-upper 50s, Kate was in her mid-upper 30s. He tapped his knuckles on the table,

"As I said, if you need anything—see me. You are dismissed-" he stopped abruptly, realizing he was addressing civilians, who probably had no idea how military commands were issued, "my apologies—habit-we are finished here, and my aides will give you a tour of your laboratory facilities. We just had them constructed inside of the teaching and briefing hangar. Your ID badges will give you access to the main building, your laboratories, and two of the hangars." Kate thanked him and quickly made her exit. He watched her slender figure disappear through the doorway, and he struck the thoughts from his mind, promising that any contact was to be of the utmost professional in every way. She was now a colleague. Hans lingered a moment after,

"I want to thank you again, Admiral Simpson, for this opportunity."

"You can thank me by completing the task at hand, to the success of the mission we are approaching." Hans nodded and slinked out of the room leaving the admiral to his own devices.

In her laboratory, Kate took the time to set up her computers, servers, microscopes, 3D printers, and consumables (nitrile gloves, ½ face respirators, etc.). It was a long process, and she couldn't bring any of the computers online until the Navy's IT-security crew came in and set everything up on a secure network. Who knew when that would be, hopefully sooner rather than later. There wasn't a single piece of laboratory equipment that she had to want for. It had all been provided to her. Hans walked in with one of Adm. Simpson's aides and marveled at how quickly Kate had set up her side of the laboratory. They did share one wall between the constructed labs within the hangar.

"You work quickly, Dr. Norris."

"I do, Hans." she mused, "I like to hit the ground running."

"Say, I was wondering, after we finish here this evening, would you like to get a coffee with me?" He asked, his voice tried to insinuate that it was a nonchalant, friends only, coffee klatch; but his eyes said he had other intentions.

"That's very sweet, Hans, but I promised a friend I'd meet him at The Hard Deck after I finish up here. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you came along?" she suggested.

"I would be delighted!" Hans beamed.

At 10:30 that evening, Kate and Hans pulled into The Hard Deck's parking lot. There were hardly any spaces, it was so packed. The Crosstrek squeezed between two lifted Chevy trucks, and Kate and Hans stepped out. Neither had changed their meeting clothes, and so Kate looked the part of professor, and Hans—well, Hans wore a pair of khaki slacks, wing tip leather loafers, a white polo shirt and a navy blue cardigan over top. His outfit screamed "Mr. Rogers," but it also had all the familiarity of a private school uniform. They hurried toward the packed entrance. Navy personnel stood outside, smoking and drinking. Kate and Hans had to carefully weave past them all. More than once, Hans was asked if his callsign was "Mr. Rogers."

Inside, Rooster was engaged in an intense game of pool with Hangman. The two were nearly finished and it was a close game. Watching the game were, Lieutenants Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Bob "B.O.B." Floyd, Reuben "Payback" Fitch, Mick "Fanboy" Garcia, Neil "Omaha" Vikander, Javy "Coyote" Machado, Brigham "Harvard" Lennox, and Logan "Yale" Lee. Everyone had been drinking heavily, and as long as there was beer in their bottles, and a good song on the juke box, no one had cause to be upset.

"8 ball, Left corner pocket." Hangman called his ball. As he bent down to line up his shot, he froze and looked up. Entering the bar, squeezing through the sea of Navy personnel, in walked the most beautiful, classy woman he had ever seen. She wore a pair of navy slacks, an ivory satin shirt with a tied bow at the neck, she had rolled up the sleeves to mid forearm. Her lips and cheeks were a soft pink, her long wavy hair loose and flowing around her flawless face. Her eyes were a deep brown, but they sparkled like the starry sky. She was tall, slender—in truth, she could have been a Vogue model for all he knew.

Hangman stood up straight and leaned on his pool cue. He couldn't help but stare at her as she looked around the bar, clearly looking for someone, as a short man that looked like Mr. Rogers trailed behind. She headed straight for the big oak bar where Penny stood, taking orders and filling glasses. The two women spoke like old friends.

"Hangman." Rooster gestured to the pool table, wanting the game to complete. Hangman leaned his cue against the edge of the table and stepped back,

"My, my, you win, Rooster." And he hurriedly made his way through the sea of sailors toward his mystery woman at the bar. He cut in front of a few ever-agitated sailors wanting their drink orders heard, and he leaned on the bar beside the woman.

"Good evening, Miss." He said, his Texan drawl barely cutting through the noise. The woman was pulling her wallet out from her cream-colored leather tote and he gently placed a hand on the bar in front of her,

"Would you let me buy your drinks this evening?" he asked. She turned to face him, and he was stuck once more by her flawless features. Her lips formed a gentle pink smile.

Rooster watched from afar and immediately realized the identity of the woman Hangman was transfixed by. It was Kate! He dropped his pool cue and bolted for the bar. All night he had been glancing across the bar, waiting for Kate to arrive, and now that she was here, Hangman—of all people—was chatting her up at the bar.

"If you insist." Kate stepped aside and Hangman promptly pulled his wallet out, and slapped a $20 bill on the bar. He was handsome, with sandy blonde hair, a perfect tan, and icy blue-green eyes.

"Penny, my dear, please keep the change." Penny nodded and glanced over at Kate. Hangman was certainly charming, and Penny dreaded that all her hard matchmaking work from this morning might be all for naught. Penny placed two beers on the bar and Kate slid one over to Hans.

Hangman leaned in close to Kate and asked,

"Is Mr. Rogers here your boyfriend?" Kate shook her head,

"No, we work together." All the while Hans looked oblivious and amused by the atmosphere.

"Where are my manners!" Hangman quickly introduced himself, "I'm Jake." He held out his hand, and she warmly shook it,

"Kate." She replied with a welcoming smile. Her hands were soft, but she had a firm handshake.

"Since you're at The Hard Deck, I'm assuming you're Navy?" She asked.

"Naval Aviator." He replied, "And since you're at The Hard Deck, I'm going to assume, you also have something to do with the Navy as well?"

"Civilian contractor for the DoD." He nodded in approval,

"Would you and Mr. Rogers care to join my friends and I over by the pool tables and darts?" Rooster finally pushed his way up to the bar, only to find that Hangman, Kate, and Mr. Rogers were making their way back over to the pool tables. Penny beckoned Rooster up to the bar,

"What happened?! I thought you invited her here tonight! What is she doing with Hangman?"

"I didn't see her come in—he did—my back was to the door."

"Aren't you a fighter pilot?!" Penny hissed, "Don't you have 20/20 vision?!" Rooster rolled his eyes and shrugged. Penny slammed a tequila shot on the bar,

"Liquid courage, now go get her back!" Rooster slammed the shot, grimaced, and hurried back through the growing crowd around the bar.

The pilots were intrigued by Hans and Kate when Hangman brought them over. The naval aviators were an exclusive club amongst the bar scene at The Hard Deck. They occupied the farthest, most exclusive corner of the bar. No one stepped foot over there unless invited. After introductions, Phoenix asked if Hans and Kate were doing anything related to the special mission the crew of aviators assembled at the bar was recalled for. Of course, the first rule of classified information was to not talk about classified information. It was very Fight Club-esque in nature.

Rooster finally made his way back up to the pool deck and walked straight over to Kate,

"You made it." his breathing was heavy from pushing his way through nearly every sailor on shore leave tonight just to get to her. Kate instantly brightened up,

"Rooster!"

"You two know each other?" Hangman questioned.

"I helped her move into her house today." Rooster shot back. The tension between the two men was now plain as day. Their friendship had always been a rocky one, but things had taken a turn for the better after Hangman saved Rooster and Maverick's lives by shooting down a hostile fifth generation fighter during a previous mission.

"Boys, boys, boys!" Phoenix stepped between them, "Let's calm down. You still have a pool game to finish." She ushered them back to the pool table, and although neither wanted to leave Kate's side, they agreed. There was no denying that every man in the bar saw Kate and melted. She was so different from any woman that frequented the bar. She was an Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly.

Rooster wound up losing the pool game, and after that, Phoenix suggested a "girls versus guys" team pool game. Kate and Phoenix formed the girls' team, and Rooster and Hangman, the guys.

"I'll rack them and, Kate, you break." Rooster said as he locked eyes with her. His heart began to race. She moved over beside him and he could feel her arm gently brush past his. Kate eyed the freshly racked pool balls and chalked the tip of her cue. She lined up the shot and with expert precision, sent the cue ball slamming into the stack. The balls began spinning out, with some landing in the pockets around the edge. When everything stopped moving, there were only three balls left on the table: the 8 ball, cue ball, and one striped 7 ball.

"Holy shit!" Phoenix beamed, "I knew I liked her!"

"I should have put money on this game." Harvard said as he took another swig from his bottle.

"8 ball, right corner pocket." Kate lined up the shot and sent the cue ball directly into the 8 ball, which spun sideways into the right corner pocket.

"You're a pool shark!" Hangman delighted. Their eyes met and she shyly smiled back. He walked over to her,

"You didn't mention you were good at pool." he said softly. She leaned in to hear him better, but responded,

"College was an interesting time for me." Her smile became somewhat mischievous, as she insinuated a wilder side to her past.

"I think you might have to give me lessons." He breathed in her ear.

"It'll cost you." she replied. Rooster didn't like how close Hangman and Kate stood; he immediately announced a new round of pool, this time Phoenix and Hangman would take on Kate and himself.

As the new game ran its course, Rooster could tell Kate was holding back. Hangman kept his eye on her and behaved like a good Southern Boy, but he was obviously enamored. Eventually, Kate and Rooster dominated the pool game,

"It feels so good to win!" Rooster beamed as he nudged Kate with his elbow.

"It does, doesn't it?!" She smiled back.

Once midnight came and went, Hans sauntered over to ask if Kate was sober enough to drive him back to base or if he should call an Uber. Although Kate had only had one beer all night, and was stone sober, it was decided he would call an Uber given that Kate wanted to stay a little longer and he was ready to go now. Hans left a little while after that. Slowly, the pilots began to depart. Harvard, Yale, Omaha, and Coyote, left; followed by Bob, Phoenix, and Fanboy. Payback, Rooster, and Hangman remained. Kate gathered her tote bag, and stood up from the table they were all occupying.

"I think I had better get going too." She thanked everyone for the fun evening and started for the door. Hangman and Rooster hurried after her. Both pilots walked her out to her Crosstrek.

"We need to make it a point to cross paths again." Hangman said as he leaned on back door of her little SUV.

"We all should." She looked over to Rooster. He seemed distraught. She took a step toward him,

"Rooster?" Hearing her say his name, his heart raced,

"What's up?"

"Thank you again for all of your help today." With that, she smiled sweetly, slid into the driver's seat, and was gone before either pilot could think of anything to say to the other. They watched her taillights disappear behind a low hill, headed toward town. Rooster and Hangman turned back to each other; it was painfully obvious that they had those initial feelings for her, and the tension between them was thick enough that a machete couldn't even cut through.