I completed a full circle in the sky. The cockpit screens erupted in a flurry of blinking red and yellow lights. I scanned the displays to determine the problem.
“I have a fire light with fluctuating engine indications,” I reported and craned to look back over my shoulder to see thick black smoke trailing from the aircraft. “I have both visual and engine indications for a fire. Executing the engine fire-failure bold face.”
I sprung to action pushing buttons and flipping switches around the cockpit, all the necessary steps to shut down the engine and put out the fire. The SIM stilled, the horizon froze, and the instruments stopped moving and flashing. My face scrunched with frustration.
“Not a bad job hitting the boldface, but look at your aircraft attitude,” he warned.
I darted a look toward the Attitude Direction Indicator. I fell into a lazy thirty degree nose low dive. Not screaming at the ground, but not getting away from it either.
“Remember, maintain aircraft control, then analyze the situation and take the appropriate action. You shouldn’t be in a slow descent—you’re going to need that altitude when you look for a suitable airfield to land with just your auxiliary systems.”
Damn it. I had to be better than this.
“But like I said, not a bad job getting the boldface done. Let’s keep going. New jet. New day. You’re back at twenty-four thousand feet, straight and level, four hundred and fifty knots. You have the jet.”
In a blink, the cautions and warnings disappeared and I was flying a good aircraft again as if nothing had happened. For the next hour, I ran through the emergency procedure wringer. One emergency after another; one on takeoff, one on landing, one over the water, small indications to major problems. I was mentally and physically exhausted. I had to be near finished.
“All right, go ahead and execute one more High-G turn for me.”
I dropped the nose five degrees, pushed up the throttle, and snapped the wings to ninety degrees.
“Smooth on the pull, here come the G’s. Here’s a three-sixty.”
The screens showing the outside world went gray and the panels in the cockpit went black. The aircraft shook and the wind rushed. Disorientation consumed me.
“I don’t understand this one. I can’t see anything,” I said as my breathing shifted into shallow gasps. Sweat poured down my back.
“Fly the jet,” Gump ordered.
“Altitude! Altitude!”
The familiar voice—her words made by blood run cold.
The jet was in a dive, but I didn’t have any references. I slammed the throttle back to idle and pulled back on the stick to what I thought would be the horizon. It exacerbated the situation. The aircraft rocked and the wind rush rang in my ears.
“Altitude! Altitude! Pull up! Pull up! Pull up!”
I gripped the stick tighter as fear spread through me. Oh my God. I had watched this video a thousand times and now it was happening to me. My eyes burned as I stared at the screen without blinking.
The horizon and my instruments flashed on. I pointed at the ground. My eyes darted to the altimeter. Two thousand feet in a flash. My breaths quickened. We were going to die. My hands shook and I squeezed the stick tighter.
“Pull up! Pull up!”
I couldn’t. I froze, just as I had that day in the tower, watching the earth blossom up to meet me. The screens went red as the simulator jerked to a stop.
Soaked in sweat and ready to vomit, I pressed my hands to my lap, regaining my composure. Crushing anxiety pinned me to my seat. If I could eject right now, I would. I would launch myself far away from this demon that was screwing with my mind.
“All right Lieutenant. You passed the operational test. How’s the head?”
For the first time since the simulation began, I looked over at the control box. Several familiar and unfamiliar faces stared back at me. I stared into each of their eyes. Pride, arrogance, satisfaction, doubt, then his...the one that I wanted to avoid most. I forced myself to face him. The electric blue shade burned into my soul and tortured me. Pity? Regret? Sorrow?
No. He didn’t get to feel sorry for me.
The hair raised on the back of my neck as perspiration trickled down my spine. My legs shook as my bottom lip quivered in pure rage. I struggled to maintain my wall.
They were screwing with me. They took me to the brink of crashing, and forced me past my impending doom. The last simulation was an exact replica of my brother’s crash. It wasn’t a coincidence. It was a test. They made me relive Colin’s death so they could assess my reaction. They were trying to break me. I was their lab rat under dissection. Arrogant sons of bitches.
And he stood shoulder to shoulder with them.
I dug my fingers into my leg to keep from tearing off my helmet and hurling it at them. Every fiber of me wanted to launch it so that it would ricochet and take more than one of their smug asses out. Bowling for bastards. But I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. I had something more important to do.
I pushed up my sleeves, lifted my chin and jerked out my hand giving a thumbs-up. It was all I could manage without losing my freaking mind. I unhooked my helmet and harness, and climbed out of the simulator.
“Good job with the ‘standard’ emergency procedures, Lieutenant. Looks like you’re ready for Monday’s flight,” Shatter, my commander, said.
“Yes sir,” I replied and pulled off my helmet. I stood at attention with it under my arm. A million thoughts swirled in my head, but the loudest was the one shouting for me to get the hell out of there. I was careful not to look anyone directly in the eyes. I knew it would be my tipping point and it wasn’t going to happen, not today. I planted my heels firmly into the ground.
“Good. What do you think fellas, she good to go?” a major asked and my left eye began to twitch.
Oh hell. They were not going to do this in front of me. I shifted my weight and blurred the voices in the room. I stared at a smudge on the wall instead of at the lineup of asshats determining my fate. I counted back from one hundred.
“Pinkerton!”
“Yes, sir,” I answered and stopped counting, wondering if I was using my outside voice.
“You’re dismissed,” T-Rex barked.
I saluted, spun, and walked toward the door. Once outside, the muggy air flooded my lungs as if I were surfacing from underwater. I inhaled and rushed to the equipment room to drop my gear and get off this base as soon as possible.
* * * *
They tricked me into the jet with my brother. They tried to rattle me on purpose, to break me. But they didn’t know I had been in that cockpit with him before. I was there on that day in the tower and I was there every day since it had happened. I couldn’t count the number of times I watched that video, how many times I relived that explosion, or how many wishes I had made to change what had happened that day.
Colin was my big brother, my protector, my knight, my best friend, and my world. I lost my security when I lost him. I was so broken that it frightened me. I fought hard to hide the tears and bury the pain. It left me feeling like an empty shell in a life without emotion. It was the only way I knew how to move forward so that I could clear his name.
I pushed through my life for my brother because deep down I knew it was what he would want. Colin was proud that I was going to be a fighter pilot. He was my biggest supporter, my biggest fan, and, even though I felt so alone without him, I wasn’t going to let him down. Not again.
The drive home was a blur. I threw my bags on the floor, went to my room, and changed. I needed to run. Whose idea had it been