The afterburner’s roar faded to a whisper as Maverick banked the F/A-18E over the Sierra Nevada. Below, a dry lakebed cracked like old pottery, and beside him, Rooster flew wingtip-to-wingtip. It wasn't a mission. It was a dare.
Rooster’s reply was quiet. “He would’ve loved that.” A pause. “Thanks, Mav.” top gun maverick drive
“You sure about this, old man?” Rooster’s voice crackled through the comm, laced with equal parts skepticism and suppressed excitement. The afterburner’s roar faded to a whisper as
Maverick smiled, a flash of the cocky pilot from ’86. “Rooster, I was inverted over this lake before you could spell ‘threat library.’ Follow my lead.” and beside him
When they leveled off, Maverick keyed the mic. “See? Sometimes the best mission is just remembering how to drive.”