Avalanche

| the mission |

"It's been an honor flying with you. Each of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission, and my choices are a reflection of that and nothing else." Maverick says, pausing to overlook at the pilots in the room.

Admiral Bates commanded, "Choose your two foxtrot teams."

"Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob."

"And choose your wingman." Vice Admiral Simpson added.

I give a grateful smile to Hangman.

Maverick announced, "Rooster."

Admiral Bates says, "And the reserve?"

"Hangman."

Jake looked up at Maverick, and nodded slowly out of surprised. He believed that he had totally washed out because of yesterday. I guess not everything got past Uncle Maverick.

We leave the room, and Hangman pulls me into another room, where we're alone.

"Jake! We have to go!" I whisper yell, trying to move around him.

His lips smash on mine, and he wrangles me into a short, but passionate kiss.

"I love you," Hangman says, almost as if he can't believe he's finally saying it out loud.

"I love you too, but you need to go and get ready. And I need to get to the bridge."

"See you soon Zoe."

"Bye Jake." I said, leaving the room, making sure my face wasn't red and my hair hadn't been fussed up.

I found my place beside Warlock and Cyclone, under the blue lighting of the air craft carrier's mission control.

"Dagger One, up and ready." Maverick announced over radio.

Phoenix said, "Dagger 3, up and ready."

After a moment of hesitation, Rooster stated, "Dagger 2, up and ready."

"Dagger 4, up and ready." Payback followed.

We watched from the deck as Maverick's F-18 took off into the air, three more closely following him, leaving us on the aircraft carrier.

They flew over the ocean, slowly becoming nothing more than tiny dots.

Comanche had already given the team leader the go ahead, "Picture is clean. Decision is yours."

"Dagger attack."

Tomahawks and other missile were launched from the carrier, and spared above our F-18ms air craft. They descended upon the enemy airfield, rendering it useless.

Maverick was leading, and the others started to get behind him in a line, and the descended below 100 feet, disappearing from radar.

And one by one, they blipped off of the radar,

"Approaching target. Two minutes and thirty seconds in three, two, one, mark." Maverick said, crossing into the canyon.

"Two mark." Phoenix calls off for herself and Bob.

Rooster repeated, "Three mark."

"Four mark." Payback continues.

The countdown began.