“Is there something you would like to share with the rest of us, Lieutenant Morgan?” Commander Levy’s voice boomed off the walls as he directed his stare my way. When I didn’t answer immediately, I could’ve sworn I saw a gleam in his eyes. “Please. Do share what’s so important it couldn’t wait until after the briefing.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh and then flipped my notebook around and held it up for him to see. A few snickers sounded around the room, and Panther let out a low groan, sinking down slightly in his seat.
“Ah. Doodling planes, are we?” Levy walked down the aisle toward me, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Not just any plane, sir.”
“No?” He stopped beside my desk and swiped the notebook from my hand. As he studied the drawing, he pursed his lips. “Would you say this is an accurate depiction of an F-22 Raptor?”
“It’s pretty damn close.”
“Hmm.” Commander Levy held up the notebook for the others. “Do you all agree? Has Lieutenant Morgan done the Raptor justice?”
“He shouldn’t quit his day job,” Utah cracked from somewhere behind me, and I didn’t bother looking his way as I lifted my middle finger.
“Anyone else?” As Levy’s eyes roamed over the room, the rest of my fellow trainees stayed uncharacteristically silent. “No? What about you, Lieutenant Hughes? Any critiques for your partner?”
My heart jumped at the word “partner,” until I realized seconds later that he meant “partner’ in relation to class, not outside of it.
Jesus, calm the hell down. It’s not like sitting beside him gives anything away.
Panther’s eyes shifted to me briefly before focusing on my drawing still in Levy’s hands. “It’s not a bad rendition, but the vertical stabilizers should be farther back. That looks like one of the early drafts.”
Approval beamed on Commander Levy’s face as he nodded at Panther, but when he turned his attention back to me, his lips flattened into a thin line. “Perhaps you could practice on your own time, lieutenant, and pay attention during mine.” He dropped the notebook on my desk with a loud slap, and as he walked off, I looked over to see Panther struggling not to laugh.
I rolled my eyes and closed the notebook. “Oh, shut up.”
“Now that Solo has successfully shared what’s sure to be incredibly useful information, considering we don’t fly F-22 Raptors here, perhaps you’d like to meet the former NAFTA pilots you’ll be facing in the hop today.” Levy inclined his head toward the door behind us, and on cue, it opened and a long line of men and women in uniform marched down the aisle. I recognized a couple, but there was one in particular that was very familiar.
Panther’s father.
“Not again,” Panther said under his breath, as our competition lined up along the front of the room and Levy came around the end with two glass bowls filled with folded slips of paper.
“Ladies and gentlemen, these are some of the finest pilots ever to go through this program. Beat them, and you’re well on your way to the top of this class. You’ll be paired by random drawing to make this as fair as possible. Good luck.”
As Levy took a slip out of each bowl, I clicked my pen and leaned in toward Panther. “Permission to take your father down if I draw him?”
Panther let out a low chuckle. “Permission granted.”
“Solo,” Levy said, reading my name off the slip of paper. “You’ll be up against Commander Heinz.”
I looked over to the female instructor, and as our eyes met, I smirked, hoping to psych her out.No problem.
“I look forward to it,” I said.
One by one, Levy called out the pair-ups, and when Panther’s turn came around, I realized his partner options were down to two. Levy himself—and after the disaster that had happened last time, the last thing Panther needed was that reminder—and Panther’s daddy-o.
Shit. Maybe they’d let me trade Heinz for a go at one of those two, because neither seemed like a good option for Panther. He’d finally gotten back into the groove of things; how the hell would they make him go up against either of those men?
“Well, well, well,” Levy said, looking down at the slips of paper he held in his hands. “This is a first. It looks like we’ll have a match between Lieutenant Hughes and Captain Hughes.”
A low murmur broke out around the room as everyone looked between father and son. Panther remained expressionless, not giving away how he felt about being paired up against his legendary father. Even I couldn’t get a read on him, not sure whether he was freaked, excited, nervous…nothing. How the hell did he manage that?
But as I glanced at Captain Hughes, it became abundantly clear, because he wore the same unemotional expression as his son, neither of them willing to show their hand.
As Levy paired up the final competitors, I leaned in toward Panther.
“You good with this?”
