Chapter 5
MITCHELL
Ikept my eyes on Honcho’s head in the cockpit.
He’d give the go sign. I listened to the tower give the all-clear for our takeoff.
It wasn’t long before Honcho gave the signal.
We started our taxi down the runway. We were flying to our next show in Jacksonville.
Even though it was nothing more than a standard flight, we still practiced formations.
I loved to cruise through the air. I liked the stunts but there was a calm I could appreciate as well.
We did some tight formations and what we called watching paint.
We didn’t look straight ahead. We eyeballed a spot on the jet flying to our left and that was where we focused our attention.
That guy watched the lead. There was a running joke, although it wasn’t all that funny, that went something like, if Number One flew into a mountain, the rest of the Angels would be right behind him because we weren’t looking ahead. Kind of macabre but true.
When we got close to Jacksonville and I knew our flight was almost over, I broke formation.
I wanted to try something. It was a maneuver I was hoping to put into the show once I had it perfected.
I didn’t have a name for it. Not yet. I was hoping to have it named after me.
Maybe something like The Dice or Dicing.
As expected, there were congrats from my fellow team members that were already descending to the runway and the expected barking from Honcho. “Get your ass back in line!” The usual smooth cadence of his voice was gone. He was pissed. It wouldn’t be the first time.
I had a real knack for pissing off Honcho. But one of these days, he was going to appreciate what I had done. One of these days, I was going to get my own solo part in the show.
After touching down, we were all headed to the small office we would use during our stay.
“Peters!” Honcho called out.
Peters. Not Dice. That was not a good sign. “What’s up, Honcho?” I asked.
“I need five minutes,” he growled.
“Someone’s in trouble.” Watch Dog laughed.
“When isn’t someone in trouble?” Medusa said. “One of these days, kid, you’re going to push him too far.”
“One of these days he’s going to realize he’s flying with one of the greatest jet pilots to walk the earth,” I said.
“Yeah, probably the same day you do something really, really stupid and get yourself killed,” Watch Dog said.
I wasn’t worried. I’d been scolded and lectured more than once.
Throughout my career in the Navy, none of those lectures ever ended up in my file.
They respected talent. I wasn’t going to pretend I was the best of the best, but I was good.
They gave me a little leeway because it was good for the service.
Me being at the top made everyone look good.
Honcho closed the door behind me. We didn’t bother sitting. I could see he was pissed. There’d only been one other time I had seen him this pissed. Thankfully, it hadn’t been at me. It had been some red tape with the higher-ups.
“This is done,” he said.
“What?”
“This bullshit you keep pulling has to stop,” he said firmly. His voice wasn’t raised. It was almost like he just didn’t have the energy.
“I really want to try and work it into the show,” I told him. “It’s new and exciting.”
“No, it’s dangerous and a risk to everyone in the air with you and the people that are down below,” he said.
“This isn’t the Dice show. This isn’t a game.
This isn’t you trying out a new dance move.
You are not in command. You are a guest on this team.
We all are. This isn’t your own personal ego stroker.
That shit is done. I’ve warned you more times than I can count. You’re playing with fire.”
I flinched at the phrase. I hated that fucking phrase. “It’s dangerous, but you know I can handle it.”
“Do I?” he asked. “You’re pulling moves that we know have cost lives.”
“I’m pulling moves I know how to pull off,” I corrected.
He shook his head. “You’re just not getting it,” he said.
“You’re not in a simulator. You’re playing with a sixty-six-million-dollar piece of government equipment.
It isn’t yours to experiment with. You can’t hop in and spend ten grand an hour to play.
Getting accepted to fly with the Blue Angels is an honor.
Few men and even fewer women have ever gotten the chance to do this and you’re treating it like it’s something that is to be toyed with.
It’s not a game. If that jet has a malfunction or you push it beyond its limits, you crash it.
The damn things don’t evaporate into thin air.
They hit the ground. They hit people, homes, businesses.
You will destroy lives if one of your little games go awry. ”
“It’s not a game,” I said. “I would never think of it as a game. I’m trying to show you all these things can do a lot more than what people think.”
“We don’t need them to do a lot more!” He rubbed a hand over his face.
“I thought you’d figured it out. I thought you learned these are not toys.
Life is precious, even if you don’t care about your own.
I can’t let you put my life and the lives of the others that are in the air with you at risk.
I can’t let you put the people on the ground in jeopardy.
Accidents can happen in the blink of an eye.
We all know that. We’ve all seen the aftermath.
That’s why we fly safe. We fly smart. This cowboy thing you’ve got going isn’t working. ”
“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll stick to the same old boring shit we do every week.”
“I’m glad you said that, but just to make sure you know how serious I am, you’re grounded. Number Five will not be in the show tomorrow.”
I stared at him with total astonishment. “You’re not serious.”
“I’m very serious,” he said. “I don’t care if we miss a few maneuvers.
What you fail to understand is the rest of us can pull off a show without your bullshit in the air.
The people watching won’t miss you. I would suggest you take the time to reflect on your choices.
I’m done. The games are over. If you can’t take this seriously, you will be removed.
You won’t move into the Number Six next year. I refuse to put up with the bullshit.”
“You’re grounding me,” I repeated.
“One show. You pull the bullshit and I will start the process to have you officially removed from the team.”
I almost argued. I almost told him it wasn’t his call. But I wasn’t going to give in to the urge. I didn’t dare let him think he’d won. There was something inside me that refused to concede. I had this stupid need to pretend it didn’t bother me.
“Understood,” I said. “Anything else, sir?”
“Dismissed.”
I pulled open the door and was already planning on getting wasted.
If I didn’t have to fly tomorrow, I could get drunk tonight.
Twelve hours between bottle to throttle.
Assuming he let me fly in the Sunday show, I had plenty of time to get my shit together.
For now, I was checking in to the hotel and hitting the gym.
Then I would find a bottle of Jack to down.
Hopefully, there would be a pretty young woman willing to share that bottle with me.
Fat Albert was just coming in when I started my walk out of the hangar.
I wanted to get out of there before the rest of the team heard the news and started asking questions.
I was feeling a little raw and a lot volatile.
I didn’t want to end up saying something that disrespected Honcho in any way.
Right then, I had some very choice words running through my head.
“Dice!” Medusa called out. “Slow down!”
I should have known I wasn’t going to get away from them that easily. I stopped walking and turned to face her. She was walking toward me with a concerned look on her face. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“Hotel.”
“Hotel?” she questioned.
“Yes.”
“We need to do preflight,” she said.
“Not me.”
Her mouth dropped. “What do you mean, not you?”
“Not me.”
She grabbed my arm and pulled me into a corner. The Hornets were being moved into the hangar as we spoke. “What happened?” she asked with concern.
“He grounded me for the show tomorrow,” I said.
“He’s being ridiculous. It wasn’t a big deal.
I’ve done far riskier moves than that one.
He’s just in a shitty mood and taking it out on me.
He wants me to try that shit in the simulator.
You and I both know the simulator isn’t the same.
There’s no freedom. We know what those things can do.
Not some stupid computer. We’re always going to be at the same level if no one tries to break out of the box.
I’m sick of doing the same shit day in and day out.
It’s the same show. Why can’t we spice it up?
What if I figure out a move that can help a pilot in combat one day? No one knows until we know.”
“I get what you’re saying,” she said. “I just think he’s worried you’re going to put your life in real jeopardy.”
I rolled my eyes. “My life is in jeopardy every time I climb into the cockpit. I don’t even need to be the guy in the cockpit to put my life at risk. We could be hit by a plane dropping out of the sky right now. There could be any number of freak accidents that take us out.”
“You know that is not even the same,” she said. “It’s one thing to be watching a jet crash versus being in the damn thing. When you go into one of your little spins, you could lose control. What happens if you lose control and take out one of us?”
“You guys are all way too good to get caught in one of my freefalls,” I said. “Besides, I never do anything when I’m close to any of you. The sky is cleared when we’re up there. It’s my life and I choose to live it like every day might be the last.”
“The way you live, every day you open your eyes has a very good chance of being your last,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’ve met a lot of cowboys in my day. I’ve flown with some real cocky kids, but you take the cake.”
I grinned. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“It’s not,” she sighed.
“What’s going on?” Watch Dog asked.
“He’s grounded,” Medusa blurted out.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“I think he would have figured it out when Number Five wasn’t up tomorrow,” she said. “He’s slow but not that slow.”
“Hey,” he protested. “Seriously? You’re grounded?”
“Yep. I get a day off. I get to kick back, watch the show, and tell you all the things you guys did wrong.”
“You’re pissed,” Watch Dog said.
“I’m not happy.”
“Just tomorrow?” he asked.
“That’s what he says, but I guess he can change his mind, right? He’s the boss after all and he’s making sure I know my place.”
“You know he isn’t throwing his weight around,” Watch Dog corrected. “He’s doing what he knows is best. It’s not like he hasn’t warned you a hundred times. I’m surprised it took him this long. You pushed him pretty hard.”
“Whose side are you on?” I growled.
“I’m on the side that keeps everyone alive.”
“You guys really are dramatic,” I said.