#Mustang Hangar

[redfurrycat]

🦸‍♂️🦃 Altom Bradner Meet-cute 🦃🦸‍♂️

Lieutenant-Commander Tom Hudner-Seresin is on shore leave in Cannes, France, with his unit. His best friend and wingman Jesse Brown has managed to secure invitations to the Cannes Film Festival.  

The unit spends all night gawking at the celebrities from the movie industry and gossiping about them. They’re just having fun before an important and dangerous mission.

Tom and Jesse are at the bar talking about Jesse’s family and Tom’s old-fashioned flirting skills. Jesse teases his friend and jokingly states his seducing techniques won’t get him some action for the night. Tom accepts the challenge.

“Bet you $20 you can’t get carnal knowledge - of anyone - on the premises, with your supposedly mad skills.”

*

Tom cannot back down from a challenge.

He surveys the room before his eyes fall upon a curly-dark-brown-haired man on his lonesome, nursing a glass of wine.

Pretty cute curls ahoy! Tom’s coming for you!

*

Jesse watches his friend approaching the stranger man with purposeful steps and a charming smile. He sees Tom talking to him, no doubt using his pitiful attempt at magic trick. The guy seems a bit stunned at first, but quickly drags his eyes over Tom’s body, a smirk slowly appearing on his face.

Curly One motions to Tom to sit down beside him.

They talk all evening.

These two men are secluded in their bubble, the outside world completely forgotten.

At some point, for reasons unknown to Jesse, Tom hand kisses the stranger’s hand…

Mission accomplished.

Tom’s just won the bet even though it must be the farthest thing on his mind right now.

Jesse smiles at his friend. And makes a waiter serve them a drink, with a note for Tom.

Mission accomplished. You’ve just had carnal knowledge of someone on the premises… The night’s still young though… 😉 I’ll see you at cockcrow tomorrow, T. Your devoted wingman, Lovingly and Forever your brother.

*

Tom and Pretty Cute Curls do spend the night together. They savour it. They treasure this one-time thing.

Except...

Is it?

*

Post-mission. Tom has just lost his best friend and wingman. He has to accept rewards and medals for a successful mission, but Tom is heartbroken and mourns for his brother in arms.

He decides to spend his long-term leave in San Diego, where his baby brother and sister live.

*

At the same time, Pretty Cute Curls decides to spend some time with his family after two exhausting years of movie producing and parading all over the world to promote his movies.

He needs a break.

Oh yeah, Al Bradshaw is coming back to the nest!

*

The Bradshaw Brood

The Brood & Herd Siblings

[luxu1230]

Alternate universe in which Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky Lives and Jake and Bradley are finally in a relationship after the mission and the dagger squad is a permanent squad.

So everyone knows MaverickandIceman and MaverickandRooster but everyone was surprised about TomandJake.

So we all saw the scene in which Mav and Rooster work on his P-1 Mustang. So imagine Rooster, Mav, Iceman and Hangman are at the hangar and the plane is finally flight worthy. So Mav and Rooster take it up for a flight which leaves Hangman and Iceman in the hangar at first it's awkward and quiet.

Then Hangman spots the 'The Photo Wall' and looks at it and then suddenly Iceman is explaining every picture to him and well that's when the conversation finally starts.

So when Mav and Rooster get back they're surprised to see them conversing.

But then it doesn't stop.

At the house.

At the hangar.

At the Base.

They always seemed to be talking.

So when Rooster and Hangman finally got married so one was surprised when Tom walked Jake down the isle.

[gunsandspaceships]

MCU Timeline: Captain Marvel

Over the centuries - war between the Kree civilization and the Skrulls.

1946 - launch of the Project PEGASUS.

July 4, 1950 - Nicholas Joseph Fury is born in Huntsville, Alabama.

~1963 - Carol Danvers and Maria Rambeau are born.

Note: Calculations are based on the assumption that they were 18 years old when they entered the United States Air Force Academy in September 1981. The age could be different, so it is impossible to say exactly when they were born based on the film alone.

~1967 - Nick Fury graduates from high school and joins the army.

1980s:

Fury retires from the military as a colonel and becomes a spy. He serves in cities beginning with the letter B (Belfast, Bucharest, Belgrade, Budapest).

Kree scientist Mar-Vell takes a group of Skrull refugees and flees with them to Earth. There, she takes the terran name Wendy Lawson and begins work on a light-speed engine to save the Skrulls from the Kree.

June 1985 - Carol Danvers and Maria Rambeau graduate from the United States Air Force Academy.

September 24, 1985 - Lieutenants Danvers and Rambo become active US Air Force pilots.

April-May 1986 - Maria Rambeau undergoes training at the USAF Officer School.

Note 1: She was probably a) with Carol; b) training to be a test pilot.

Note 2: I broke my eyes and brains trying to make sense of the dates on this form. Because I can't figure out how September 1985 to 1989 can be 5 years. So I don't know where to put Maria's discharge, in 1989 or 1990 or even 1991.

Between 1986 and 1989 - they join the S.H.I.E.L.D./USAF PEGASUS project as test pilots.

~March 24, 1988 - Fury joins S.H.I.E.L.D.

Note: it is complete BS that Fury is a Level 3 in S.H.I.E.L.D. after 7 years of service, including being a deputy in Bogota and a "friend" of high-ranking politician and Secretary of the DoD Alexander Pierce. He has his own rookie and is about to be promoted to Director! Bad job, Marvel.

June 28, 1988 - Carol and Maria buy tickets to a Guns N' Roses concert.

July 10, 1988 (Sunday), 8 pm - Carol and Maria attend the Guns N' Roses show.

1989:

Dawn - Carol wakes Maria up (as usual).

Danvers and Rambeau race to the base in their Mustang and Camaro, respectively. Danvers cheats by taking a shortcut.

An agitated doctor Lawson meets them in the hangar and attempts to fly the ASIS. Danvers takes the pilot's seat.

~7 am - the two take an unauthorized "test" flight in the light-speed aircraft.

Note: ~7 am is based on Carol's watch at the moment of Mar-Vell's death.

Lawson gives Danvers the coordinates of her secret lab.

As they reach space, they are attacked by Yon-Rogg, who was sent to capture the scientist and take her back to Hala.

ASIS hits the ground. Lawson reveals who she really is to Danvers and attempts to destroy the engine, but Yon-Rogg kills her before she can do so.

Danvers shoots the engine herself, destroying it and absorbing its energy.

She is taken to Hala (the Kree capital). The Kree give her a transfusion of their blue blood (Yon-Rogg's), alter her memories and suppress her powers with a chip implanted in her neck.

Note: The photo is labeled "06/23/1990" but was likely taken during an investigation that could take years.

Between 1989 and September 1991 - Captain Maria Rambeau leaves the Air Force.

1992-1995 - Kree spy Soh-Larr gathers intelligence on Skrull refugees on Torfa.

~September 1995 - Phil Coulson joins S.H.I.E.L.D.

The main events take place in early October 1995 (or, as a second option, in September). For details, see the end of the post.

~October 7, 1995:

120 days since "the last Skrull attack on the Kree".

Early morning on Hala - Danvers, now "Vers", a member of the Kree Starforce, wakes up from a dream with a scene from his past altered by the Kree.

She wakes up her commander Yon-Rogg and invites him to a sparring match.

They fight, but Vers loses control and uses his powers against Yon-Rogg.

He takes her to the Supreme Intelligence, the AI ​​leader of the Kree civilization. The Intelligence allows her to go on a combat mission.

Starforce is sent on a search and rescue mission for the spy Soh-Larr on the "recently invaded by the Skrulls Kree border planet" Torfa.

Ronan the Accuser goes with them to blow up a Skrull stronghold on the planet.

On Torfa, the team is ambushed by Skrulls. Vers is captured by Talos, the Skrull general.

~October 8, 1995:

The Skrulls take Vers onto their ship and study her memories for clues that could help them find Mar-Vell.

They learn that she must be somewhere on planet C-53 (Earth) and set course for it.

Vers frees herself from the bonds and fights the Skrulls.

~5 am in California - After blowing a hole in the ship, she boards one of the shuttles and makes an emergency landing at a Blockbuster Video store in Los Angeles, Earth.

Security guy calls the police.

~7 am - a group of Skrulls led by Talos lands in LA.

Vers calls her team on a landline she modified, telling them her location.

Starforce head to Earth.

LAPD and S.H.I.E.L.D. (Coulson, Fury and his supervisor Keller) arrive.

One of the Skrulls takes on the appearance of Coulson while the real one is collecting evidence inside the store with Agent Keller.

Vers activates her beacon and meets Nick Fury.

Before he arrests her, they are attacked by another skrull.

Vers, Fury, and the fake Coulson pursue the Skrull. Vers fights him on a train, but he manages to escape.

Fury discovers that the real Coulson is still in Blockbuster and the one next to him is a Skrull. They fight, resulting in a car crash, and the Skrull does not survive.

~8-9 am - in the internet cafe, Vers searches for "Pegasus" and "Pancho's Bar" from the memories extracted from her.

She steals some casual clothes and a motorcycle and heads to Pancho's Bar, which is located near Edwards Air Force Base.

Talos knocks out Keller and takes his identity (but forgets his ID).

~10 am - a S.H.I.E.L.D. medical examiner performs an autopsy on the dead Skrull. Talos, posing as Keller, sends Fury to find Vers.

Coulson hands Fury the police report and helps "Keller" to return to Keller's office for the ID.

~12 pm - Vers makes it to Pancho's bar, where Fury is already waiting for her. They talk and prove to each other that they are not Skrulls.

~1 pm - Fury takes her to the Pegasus Project base.

~2 pm - while they are detained by the facility's security, Fury sends a message to Keller-Talos asking for reinforcements.

Fury opens the locked door using the guard's fingerprint, and the two head to the Records Department, meeting Gus the Flerken along the way.

Vers and Fury find Lawson's files and learn that 1) the ASIS light speed engine project was terminated; 2) Lawson was actually a Kree; 3) she died along with her pilot during an unauthorized test flight of the light speed aircraft.

Fury receives a message from "Keller" and leaves Vers. She learns that she was the pilot and calls Yon-Rogg. He tells her that Lawson was an undercover Kree agent named Mar-Vell. Vers tells him that her memories of life on Earth are returning.

3 pm - "Keller" arrives with other agents and accidentally reveals himself to Fury, calling him Nicholas.

Talos attacks Fury in the archives. Vers saves Fury and they escape.

They encounter Coulson, but he lets them go.

Vers takes Fury's pager from him.

They take a quadjet from the hangar and a stowaway, Goose, and head to Louisiana to see Maria Rambeau.

Ronan contacts Starforce and informs them that his part of the operation was a success. He insistently offers to "search and rescue" Vers, but Yon-Rogg brushes him off.

Back at PEGASUS Base, Talos receives the ASIS black box recording and learns that Vers is a Terran who worked with Mar-Vell. He takes Norex and heads to Louisiana as well.

~7 pm - Vers, Fury and Goose reach Louisiana and meet Maria and her daughter Monica.

8 pm - they tell them what's going on, Maria tells Vers what happened that day 6 years ago.

Talos enters the house, now without disguise, and explains himself.

He gives the Terrans the audio file from the ASIS black box, and Carol's memories return.

Talos asks her to help find the energy core (Tesseract) in Mar-Vell's laboratory, and Maria gives her a pep talk.

~9:30 pm - Talos is informed that the laboratory is not on Earth, but in orbit.

~10 pm - Norex, a Skrull scientist and engineer, begins work on adapting the quadjet for space travel.

Carol and Monica persuade Maria to take the co-pilot's seat.

~October 9, 1995:

Monica changes the colors of Carol's battle suit to red, blue, and gold.

Her grandparents take her to their home until Maria returns.

Carol, Maria, Fury, Talos, and Goose head to the lab, leaving Norex to pose as Vers for Yon-Rogg.

~7 am - Yon-Rogg reaches Maria's house and kills Norex after he fails an identity check. He calls Ronan to bomb the Earth.

~8 am - The Terrans and Talos find Mar-Vell's lab, which is also an Imperial Kree cruiser full of Skrull refugees. Talos is reunited with his family.

The reunion is interrupted by the arrival of Starforce, who capture everyone on board.

Danvers is brought before the Supreme Intelligence. She gets rid of the Kree implant that was suppressing her powers, and breaks free.

Goose swallows the Tesseract.

The Battle at Mar-Vell's Laboratory that ended in the Mojave Desert.

Maria kills Minn-Erva in a dogfight.

Ronan and the other Accusers arrive and launch ballistic warheads towards Earth. Carol destroys them all in mid-air and then blows up one of the Accusers' ships. Ronan decides to retreat.

Danvers sends Yon-Rogg, who has crashed on Earth, back to Hala with a message.

Goose scratches Fury's eye.

Night - back at Maria's house, Carol promises the Skrulls she will find them a new home and asks Fury to hide the Tesseract on Earth. She also gives him a pager she upgraded for him so he can call her if needed.

~A couple of days later, mid-October, 1995 - Carol and the Skrulls leave Earth.

~Second half of October 1995:

Fury eventually loses his scratched eye. He returns to duty, working on his idea for the Protector Initiative at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Los Angeles office when Coulson brings him prosthetic eyes to choose from. Fury looks through Maria and Carol's USAF files and decides to name the Initiative after Carol's USAF call sign.

Goose, who stayed with Fury, throws the Tesseract up on his desk.

Why October (or September):

The Official Timeline book and Fandom Wiki timeline tell us that the main events of the movie take place in the summer of 1995. Indeed, we see some indications of this in the film, such as this calendar in Maria's office that says "June":

However, other evidence tells us that it cannot be summer:

The yellow notice says, "Effective November 1, 1995." In the summer months, this may be too early.

Look at the posters:

The newest shows announced in mid-September, those announcing shows in July and August, are the oldest on the wall and are already covered with many more recent announcements.

The advertisement for the Smashing Pumpkins' 1995 album Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness could not have been posted on the wall in the summer of 1995, as the album's recording was completed in August and the album itself was released in October.

While trying to convince her mother to go on the mission with Carol, Monica mentions The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air (1:16:10), which began Season 6 on September 18, 1995 (and I couldn't find any VHS of that show, so Monica is most probably referring to watching the season on TV when it aired). The full moon in September was before September 18, and the full moon in October was on the 8th, which fits well.

So Maria might want to turn a few pages on her calendar (though that happens to all of us sometimes, doesn't it?).

MCU Timeline: The Infinity Saga

[royalinkblot]

Wings of Home – Chapter Two: Legacy in Motion

The hangar doors slid open with a deep mechanical hum, revealing rows of restored fighter jets gleaming under the California sun. A mix of vintage beauties and next-gen hybrids stood proudly—a testament to Maverick and Goose’s vision. Their business, Need for Speed Solutions, had started as a modest restoration shop. Now, it was the go-to facility for military and private collectors alike, with contracts reaching as far as Japan and Germany.

Goose—Nick Bradshaw—walked out of his office with a clipboard in hand and aviators perched atop his head. “Mav, the F-14’s ready for testing. Also, you owe me lunch.”

Maverick grinned as he rolled out from under a gleaming Mustang P-51, wiping grease from his hands. “You always say that.”

“Because you always do,” Goose shot back with a wink.

Not far from the airstrip, nestled near the edge of town, Carole Bradshaw’s café bistro, The charming Goose, had become a local institution. Equal parts cozy and cool, it was where aviators, artists, and tired parents came together over espresso and sea breeze. That morning, Carole was helping Nikola choose a pastry behind the glass counter while Ace tried to convince Rooster—Bradley Bradshaw—that he should let him sit in a real cockpit again.

“Only if your dad says yes,” Rooster warned with a smile, already knowing Maverick wouldn’t resist.

Bradley had grown into a fine pilot—steady, smart, and respected. His callsign Rooster was now etched on the side of an F/A-18 stationed at North Island, but on weekends he was just Uncle Brad, who gave piggyback rides and made better pancakes than Maverick.

Across town, in a quiet office overlooking the Naval base, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky leaned back in his chair, watching a classified memo scroll across his screen. His role in strategic advisory was supposed to be limited, but the buzz was getting louder—rumors swirled of him becoming the next Secretary of the Navy.

He hadn’t said yes. Not yet. His family came first. Always.

That night, they gathered in the Bradshaws’ backyard—an unofficial tradition every Friday. Carole had grilled lemon chicken and served it with warm bread and wine from a local vineyard. The twins played on the grass while the adults talked shop and swapped stories.

“You sure you want to take that kind of job?” Goose asked Tom, raising an eyebrow.

Tom smiled faintly. “No. But if I do... it’ll be to make sure Ace and Nikola’s generation has better skies than we did.”

Maverick looked over at their children—Nikola helping Ace build a paper jet, serious as ever—and nodded. “Then you’d have our full support.”

Later that evening, as the stars blinked to life above them and the sound of laughter drifted from the porch, Maverick wrapped an arm around Tom’s shoulders.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” he murmured.

“What is?” Tom asked.

“That we’re all still here. Still flying, in our own ways.”

Tom looked at him, eyes soft. “We’ve built something better than flight. We built home.

Chapter one

Chapter three

[topgunhappilyeverafter]

Even If You Fold The Paper Wrong Your Paper Airplane Is Still Gonna Fly To Me

By: @jakekazansky | Lovehatress

For: @yeah-w-r-i-t-e | yeah_w_r_i_t_e

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Rating: T

Word count: 2,051

Summary: Mav paced back and forth across the back patio, fingers tapping against his jeans. His phone lay on the coffee table sat in front of the couch where Tom sat reading the Sunday paper.

“Mav, honey, you gotta call him. He’s not gonna say no.”

“How do you know that, Tom? It’s only been a few months since we finally talked. Sure, he’s been coming to the hangar to help work on the mustang and we get dinner once a week but that doesn’t mean he’ll say yes.”

Mav has an important question to ask Bradley. He hopes he says yes.

COLLECTION

[snapghoul]

I'm loving this extended Tom Cruise Universe you're building with Top Gun and Mission Impossible. It's just so much fun!!

Do you have any thoughts about Ethan and Bradley interacting? I'd love to see baby Bradley being So Confused by the whole twin situation, but I'd also love to see something with grown up Bradley. Really just anything with those two.

Thank you so much for sharing your writing with us!! 💙💙

Hehe I love the cruise multiverse, I’m having so much fun and I love that you are enjoying it. Here’s some more Mitchell twins and Bradley ❤️

Vignettes of Bradley and Ethan.

Mav is there too

Warnings: foul language

The first time Bradley mistook Ethan for Mav was when he was five.

Ethan stepped into Carol’s house, arriving right on time at four o'clock, though he wasn’t sure where his brother was. He stood awkwardly by the door—familiar with Carol, but having not been around much lately.

“Mav! Mav! Look!” Suddenly, little Bradley clung to Ethan’s leg, bouncing excitedly while holding up a shiny red diecast car. Caught off guard, Ethan quickly bent down and lifted Bradley onto his hip.

“Look! Mom got me a new car!” Bradley beamed, proudly displaying the toy. Ethan chuckled, taking the car with his free hand and admiring it.

“Wow, kid! That’s a great one!” He grinned back at the toddler, who was still glowing with excitement.

Just then, the door swung open behind him and bumped into Ethan's hip. He turned to see Pete, clad in his brown bomber jacket and aviators, his hair tousled from a motorcycle ride.

Pete's face lit up at the sight of his twin. He shut the door and clapped a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, unaware of Bradley's bewilderment as he glanced back and forth between them. Carol appeared around the corner, laughing at her son's confused expression.

“Hey, little man! Is that Camaro from your mom?” Pete asked, enthusiasm bubbling over as he reached for the car. Bradley released it without hesitation, eyes wide.

“This is awesome!” Pete exclaimed, turning the car in his hands. But Bradley's confusion shifted to fear; he squirmed in Ethan's arms and began to whine. Without protest, Ethan set him down, and Bradley dashed to his mother, burying his face in her legs.

Pete burst out laughing, while Ethan felt a flush of embarrassment.

. ✰ .

Bradley was beginning to appreciate Mav’s affection for his desert hangar; it offered a peaceful escape from the chaos of everyday life. He navigated around the wing of Mav’s P-51 Mustang, the morning sun casting a warm glow as he recalled his promise to spend the weekend with Mav.

“Fuck!—Jesus Christ!” He jumped as he passed a makeshift living area, where Ethan sat on the couch, wide awake and stock still. The longer hair and nondescript clothing were a clear departure from Mav’s usual style. “What are you doing here?”

“Just enjoying a quiet morning,” Ethan shrugged, his calm demeanor oddly fitting in the dim light of the hangar. Most of the lights were off, but sunlight filtered through, illuminating the space.

Bradley ran a hand through his hair, bemused. That was quintessentially Ethan—unfazed and unpredictable. “Where’s Mav?”

“He took his bike out for a ride. Said he ran out of the good coffee.” Ethan smiled as if this was perfectly normal.

“And you didn’t go with him?” Given their shared love for speed, it was surprising that Ethan had opted to stay behind.

“I’ve had enough motorcycles for a while. The last one didn’t end well,” he replied casually. The nonchalance made Bradley raise an eyebrow—what could Ethan possibly have done to total a bike and walk away unharmed?

“It wasn’t mine, so don’t worry,” Ethan added, sensing Bradley's concern and waving it off, which only deepened Bradley's confusion.

. ✰ .

Bonus:

“Mav, what does Ethan do?” Bradley asked one day, having watched the man come and go throughout his life—sometimes battered and other times radiant. Yet, he had never heard Ethan discuss his work.

Pete paused, setting down his pen and glancing up from the paperwork Cyclone had assigned him. Bradley often sought refuge in Mav’s cramped office to escape the Vice Admiral’s presence.

“He’s in government work. Used to be in the Army, then transferred to another division after his honorable discharge,” Pete replied, carefully avoiding the specifics. The IMF was not a topic for casual conversation.

“Huh.” Bradley frowned, skepticism etched on his face. That explanation didn’t clarify anything for him.

Bonus 2:

Average Bradley reaction to Ethan dropping random lore every time he’s around and never elaborating (no one tells him anything):

[tgmsunmontue]

You need to learn how to fall 2/10

Hangster (and IceMav) - Bradley is too tall to be a naval aviator and instead becomes a sky diver, specialising in spin recovery. He is a civilian contractor to the Airforce and Navy to teach pilots how to survive parachute spins from ejections. A more in-depth version of this post.

PROLOGUE

2003-2006 – The early years

                “Your son is very focused. His discipline is admirable. He’s going to go far. He’s going to be our youngest certified tandem skydiver.”

                Pete’s throat works, because it’s not the first time someone has called Bradley his, but hearing someone else talk about his skill… to sound impressed not only with Bradley but also as a reflection of Pete’s own efforts. He didn’t realize he needed someone external telling him he’d done a good job, but here it is anyway.

                “I’m Navy. He’s been brought up in a fairly disciplined household.”

                “He mentioned that actually. He never thought about joining the service?”

                “He’s too tall.”

                “What?”

                “To be a naval aviator. I’m a naval aviator.”

                “Clearly didn’t get his height from you.”

                “No…” Pete says dryly, doesn’t bother mentioning the convoluted relationship that he and Bradley have.

                “So what, he jumps out of planes instead of flying them?”

                “Oh, he can fly them too. He’s been flying since he was 14. Perk of having a whole bunch of honorary uncles willing to fly him up and getting him his flight hours. Unfortunately he can’t both pilot the plane and then jump out of it,” Pete says.

                “He’s a lucky kid.”

                Mav hopes he remains lucky.

…             …             …

                It’s become second nature, either of them able to also carry out the safety checks and make sure that Bradley has definitely done everything. He never misses anything and it soothes a part of Tom, knowing Bradley takes his own health and safety seriously. There is no cutting corners or rushing through anything. They never talk about Goose, but he wonders if he thinks about his father every time he checks the stitching for wear, every time he runs his hands over the fabric and checks for tears before rolling it carefully to ensure it unfurls correctly while he’s plummeting toward the earth.

                They all learn about static lines and accelerated freefall, and things have changed since he was in flight school. The materials they use now are much more durable. All of Bradley’s gifts are centered around skydiving. Tom becomes fairly knowledgeable around the entire process, another set of regulations to add to his already encyclopedic knowledge of Naval regulations. He somehow becomes friendly with a couple of the higher ups in the FAA and he becomes known around the airstrip as Ice, most people not realizing exactly who he is. He admits it to himself that he likes it, that he’s just a guy who knows a lot about planes. Added to that is the US Parachute Association and Tom has a new map in his study showing all the drop zones in the state as well as the neighboring states.

                Neither of them had intended to become this involved but neither of them say anything to each other. Tom has had to check with several people about potential conflicts of interest, but it’s agreed that he is, first and foremost, a naval aviator, so if he wants to fly a private plane on his own time that’s allowable, as long as he’s meeting all the FAA regulations. The FAA make a special dispensation (his new friends doing him this favor), allowing them to sign off flight hours, but neither of them are officially instructors. They do both become FAA-certified parachute riggers though.

                It’s through one guy he knows in the FAA that he acquires the hangar. It’s an old Navy one, but Pete’s been making noises about wanting to renovate a P-51 Mustang he keeps seeing for sale, but how he’s got nowhere to keep it. They could store another plane there too, Bradley’s sky-diving one in the future. It seems like it’s definitely going to happen, Bradley making a business plan and presenting it to them and asking to have his parent’s life insurance money to help him purchase a plane. Tom can give their planes a home, so he purchases the hangar and gives it to them a joint fortieth birthday gift for Mav and graduation present for Bradley.

                A different plane comes into their life a little earlier than anticipated, although none of them have to buy it. Pete comes to an agreement with one of Bradley’s instructors. They’ll store the plane in their currently empty hangar in exchange for being able to use it to take Bradley up for jumps, paying for fuel and carrying out the checks and maintenance. Somehow word gets around – there are two pilots capable of signing off flight hours. They can count as solo flights as they aren’t instructors. Others wanting to jump out of planes arrange times with Bradley.

                He hasn’t spent so much time in the air since flight school and he loves every moment, regardless of whether he’s piloting or doing the checks before Bradley does his jumps. His relationship with Mav has settled into an easier less-volatile thing, maybe his promotion to Rear Admiral has made him feel less threatened by the potential fallout if anyone decides to voice their concerns about his relationship with Pete.

…             …             …

                “I’ve done it. The five-hundred jumps, more than three years in sky diving, done more than fifty jumps in the last year, got my medical and I’ve got more than 8 hours of freefall time logged. I can apply for the Tandem course now…”

                “Proud of you. You’ve been working towards this for a long time.”

                “Thank you! For taking me up and buying the hangar, and just… thank you so much. I know you and Mav both don’t really get it, but you’ve never made me feel like I didn’t have your support this entire time.”

                “It’s what parents do. Good parents that is.”

                He throws his arms around Ice then, hugs him tightly and doesn’t let go.

                “The best parents.”

2007-2010 - The middle years (NEXT PART)

[vintageairplanehub]

Do you know how much it costs to own a vintage airplane model?

Owning a vintage airplane model can be one of the most exhilarating investments for aviation enthusiasts. These aircraft models, with their storied pasts and classic designs, offer a tangible connection to the golden age of aviation. However, the cost of purchasing and maintaining an old plane model can vary widely, and it's important to understand these costs before diving into such a significant commitment.

So, how much does a vintage airplane cost? The price of these aviation models can range from relatively affordable to extremely expensive, depending on several key factors. According to estimates, a small, less complex vintage aircraft might start around $15,000 to $50,000. These models typically include older, single-engine planes like a vintage Piper Cub or Cessna 140. They are popular among hobbyists and collectors who appreciate their simplicity and the nostalgia they evoke.

On the other end of the spectrum, more complex and historically significant aircraft models, such as a WWII-era fighter or a classic biplane, can demand much higher prices. A vintage warbird, like a P-51 Mustang, could easily cost upwards of $500,000 to $1 million, and possibly much more, depending on its condition and provenance. These aircraft are not only valuable for their history but also for their performance, and they remain highly sought after in the aviation community.

Condition plays a pivotal role in determining the price of a vintage airplane model. Aircraft that have been fully restored and maintained in airworthy condition typically command the highest prices. A meticulously restored plane with modern avionics and a fresh engine overhaul could be priced at $200,000 or more, depending on the model. However, aircraft in "project" condition, which require extensive restoration work, can be purchased for significantly less, often between $15,000 and $40,000. But keep in mind that restoring a vintage aircraft is a labor of love that can involve considerable additional costs, sometimes exceeding the initial purchase price.

When considering a vintage airplane, it's also crucial to think about the long-term ownership costs. Beyond the initial purchase, there are ongoing expenses like hangar rental, insurance, routine maintenance, and fuel costs. Vintage aircraft often require more frequent inspections and specialized maintenance, which can add up quickly. For instance, annual maintenance for a single-engine vintage aircraft could range from $5,000 to $15,000, depending on the aircraft model and its condition. More complex and rare models might require even more expensive upkeep.

Historical significance and rarity also impact the price of a vintage airplane. Aircraft that have played a role in significant historical events, or those that are rare examples of their type, often command premium prices. For example, a vintage Spitfire or a restored Douglas DC-3 might cost several million dollars due to their historical importance and the limited number of such aircraft still flying today. Collectors and museums are often willing to pay top dollar for these pieces of aviation history, driving prices higher.

In some cases, owning a vintage airplane model might also provide an opportunity for investment. As the years pass, some aircraft models become increasingly rare, which can drive up their value. However, this is not a guaranteed outcome, and the market for vintage aircraft can be unpredictable. The value of a vintage plane can fluctuate based on market demand, the condition of the aircraft, and other external factors.

In conclusion, how much does a vintage airplane cost? The price can range from as low as $15,000 for a simple, unrestored model to over $1 million for a well-preserved, historically significant aircraft. When considering such a purchase, it's important to account for not only the initial cost but also the ongoing expenses associated with owning and maintaining an old plane model. For many, the joy of owning a piece of aviation history is worth every penny, but it's a commitment that requires careful consideration and a deep passion for the skies.

[captain-jamesarmpits]

Friends, acquaintances, and assorted nerds, please allow me to put on my Top Gun hat and rant for a moment!

This plane is called a Ford Trimotor. (Some of you out there might recognize it from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom) It’s a small passenger plane, would have been used for local flights, and can fit around 8 people plus the pilots.

So what does this have to do with Top Gun?

Well, this plane has another name. A nickname really. It was called the Tin Goose.

The TIN fucking GOOSE.

This is not a huge plane, and it’s a decently old plane, and you can 100% BET YOUR ASS that Maverick would have one of the puppies in his hangar. Based on the name alone! I will not stand for anything else.

I understand that they use the Mustang in TGM cause it’s Tom Cruise’s actual plane and all that, but honestly. Honestly.

Peter Maverick Mitchell would own a Tin Goose and that is a hill I am willing to die on.

[usafphantom2]

‘Mustang Monday’

Peter Teichman coming through with a topside pass in the Hangar 11 North American P51-D ‘Tall in the Saddle’ at Imperial War Museum Duxford a couple of years ago…@IWMDuxford #aircraft #avgeek #avpics #warbirdsofinstagram #warbird #warbirds

@Shutterbug_WGC via X

[redarmyscreaming]

The XFJ-1 was a turbojet-powered day fighter designed for operation from the United States Navy’s aircraft carriers. The airplane’s wings and tail surfaces were very similar to those of North American’s legendary P-51 Mustang. Although intended for carriers, the FJ-1 did not have folding wings to reduce its “footprint” when stored on the hangar deck. It did have an interesting feature, though: The nose gear assembly was capable of “kneeling,” putting the airplane in a nose-low, tail-high attitude, allowing Furies to be placed very close together when parked nose-to-tail. Although ordered into production, the initial order for 100 units was trimmed to only 30 aircraft which were mainly used in testing at NAS North Island, California. VF-5A, soon redesignated as VF-51, operated the type in service beginning in August 1948. Although VF-51 went to sea on Boxer by May 1949, the FJ-1s were phased out in favor of the new F9F-2 Panther.

[wr1t3w1tm3]

SEAWOLF - Part 1 - Chapter 2

Tuesday - May 18th

Words: 2,771

Estimated Read Time: 12-15 min.

TW: Brief mentions of blood and brief allusion to panic caused by a traumatic experience.

It ends up taking five hours for him to reach Maverick’s hangar. For miles down the gravel back road he follows the wide swaths cut by large tire tracks earlier that night. The hangar door is closed. When he pulls up next to the hangar, his SUV is the only car. Walking through the dust to the side door, he notices a lime green post-it note, which reads:

Ring the doorbell then come in. Unlocked.

There’s a ring doorbell mounted next to the door. He presses the button, it’s lit by a blue circle for a moment, then it dings out a little song and he enters. As soon as he opens the door, he’s hit with the overwhelming stench of industrial cleaners and the harsh hangar lights.

Inside is almost immaculately clean. Maverick was never one to be messy, but he also didn’t have any specific method to his “madness” He kept his magazines, books, NATOPs and anything made of paper and bound stowed within the coffee table set up in his “living room”; and he kept his tools all over the hangar without any rhyme or reason. Roosters Ford Bronco - the same one Goose had back in the day - is parked against the hangar door.

The smell begins to dissipate as he gets closer to the fans set up in a triangle between the Mustang, the camper, and the line of tarp draped bikes. The trailer door is wide open, and a brunette in a black t-shirt and ripped up jeans steps out. There’s a paper towel roll tucked under her arm, a mop in one hand and its bucket in the other. 

She puts the pedal to the metal, booking it towards a mass of towels he notices on her approach. “You Theresa?” He calls. 

She nods, panting. The bucket hits the ground with a plunk and the mop clatters down with it. She stands, rubbing her back as he approaches. “And you’re Ice…man?”

He nods, sliding his aviators into the crook created by his unbuttoned top button. “Tom Kazansky. Callsign, Iceman. Everyone calls me Ice.”

Her hand shake is firm, but when their hands come together, hers are shaking. Maybe from the adrenaline, but when he tries to look her in the eyes she maintains contact for only a couple seconds before she drops it and motions to the bucket. “I was, uh, just cleaning up. They gave me to okay to clean up.” 

“The cops?” Ice asks, surveying the hangar. 

“Yeah,” Theresa picks up the mop and nudges the towels out of the way with her boot. 

Ice smiles gently. “Are those Mav’s old boots?” 

Theresa shrugs. “Probably.” He steps closer, but she refuses to look up. The mop swipes away at the floor, taking with it the remnants of red from under the towels. He glances at them himself. The bottom ones seem to be completely blood soaked. 

“Where are Maverick and your father?” 

Theresa rolls her shoulders, then shudders. She kicks the towels a little further, mopping that up. She starts humming something he vaguely recognizes from the radio. He steps with her, then suddenly she turns, grabbing the bucket and mop and marching towards the Mustang. There’s a similar, though smaller, mound of towels there as well. The path over is lined with muted bloody stains.

Ice stops a couple yards back and repeats his question. “Where’s your dad at, kid?”

Again, Theresa shrugs. But she speaks “Uh… I dunno. They disappeared before the cops showed up and they couldn’t find ‘em.” 

She dunks the mop in the bucket again. It slaps and some slips over the side, onto the floor. It makes a wet squelch against the concrete when she sets it down and the fibers scratch a bit as they glide over the floor. “Are they looking for them?”

“Oh, uh… the cops?” she chuckles uneasily, replying with a shrug “nah. They’ll keep an eye out for ‘em but they aren’t too worried unless they don’t turn up by tomorrow.” 

Ice steps forward. Theresa glances at him then takes a step back, mopping up where there definitely wasn’t blood before. He broaches the next question with a little more delicacy “Do you know where your dad and Maverick are?”

“The Hard Deck?” She suggests with a shrug and uneasy chuckle. Realization dawns immediately. The boots Theresa’s co-opted squeak as she walks.

Ice slides his hands into his pockets and clears his throat. “What, ah, what do the cops think happened here?”

“Rabid animal attack.” Theresa’s response is to fast. Too perfect. 

“You said it was a wolf, right?”

She pauses, glancing at him. She cocks an eyebrow, not unlike Mav when asked a stupid question. Then she turns back to her mopping. “Yeah. Big black one.” 

“What else did you see?”

“Not much,” again, too quick. Too rehearsed. “It got Mav, then it go Brad.” 

“And they both disappeared after they got bit?” 

Theresa stops, taking a deep breath as she rights herself. She nods curtly, “Yeah,” she drops the mop in the bucket and hoists it up, headed towards the trailer. 

“So what’d you tell the cops?” Ice calls. There’s a coolness in his voice that irks Theresa.

But she plays along. “That Mav and Brad got attacked by a big black wolf and that I hid in the plane.” 

“And that they disappeared after they were attacked?” 

She nods, setting the bucket at the trailer steps. Ice stops a couple yards away again. His khaki’s are crisp, his shirt is ironed. He looks well rested, despite the hour. Theresa is running on a RedBull and and looks like it. She imagines that she looks cooler than she does, staring Ice down, but she can feel the grease slicking her hair back and it does not feel pretty. 

He sighs, taking one step closer and asking quietly “What color where they?”

Theresa blinks, trying to wake herself up. “What color where… who?” 

She takes a sudden breath. Ice sighs, pressing “What color where the wolves?”

“The… black one?” Theresa slides back a step. Her back is practically against the trailer now. Ice shakes his head and crosses his arms. 

“What color fur did your father and Mav have after they shifted?”

Theresa balks like she’s about to throw up. The mop clatters against the wooden steps, then it hits the floor. It echoes through the hangar. Ice’s ears ring a bit. It fades within a moment, giving Theresa enough time for realization. 

“Can you drive Mav’s Jeep?”

Theresa doesn’t respond at first. One hand slowly drifts to her chest, where it feels her heart racing. The other reaches back for the trailer, and once it makes contact she leans back against it. Ice takes another step forward, repeating himself tersely. “Can you drive Mav’s Jeep?” 

She swallows hard, but she nods. Ice nods, stepping back. “Good. Go ahead and grab the keys kid, then follow me. Slider’ll get in soon and we need to have Mav and your dad wrangled by then.” He starts towards the door, but he only hears his footfalls. He turns back after a few steps, and Theresa simply stands there, unmoving. Her mouth slightly agape. 

“Come on kid,” he puts on a small smile and tries to sound cheerful. “Grab the keys. It’ll be fun.” 

She seems to snap out of it, shaking her head a bit violently. She steps up into the trailer. Ice listens to her search around for Mav’s keys. The search is by no means silent, but she doesn’t say a word otherwise. The shock should wear off soon. She’ll be fine then. 

“Oh!” He calls back. “Make sure to grab them each a change of clothes!”

They don’t have to go far. Approximately a mile from Maverick’s hangar and equidistant from the runway is a large collection of rocks. Hiding amongst those rocks are two wolves: one black, one hazel. 

Ice approaches cautiously, dimming his lights once he spots them. Theresa’s eyes aren’t nearly as well adjusted. Luckily, she’s far enough back that her lights don’t startle them. 

They were resting when they arrived. Both still shifted. For a second, a pang of… anxiety strikes him. What if they attack Theresa? She’s in an open Jeep after all. 

No. They won’t. They’ve had nearly five hours to come to terms now. Besides, he’s in front. They won’t attack him. He’s familiar. Wolf and friend.

Theresa shuts off the Jeep. The dying headlights catch the hazel, almost dirty blonde wolf’s attention. He’s huge. Easily ten feet from snout to tail. He probably weighs about what he did before, and Rooster was a pretty big guy by all metrics. 

“Easy. Easy.” the hazel one - Rooster - growls. Theresa, halfway between the SUV and the Jeep, stops dead. She looks like she’s just seen a ghost. The black one turns his attention to her. “Whoa Mav,” Ice glances back. He reaches one hand out in front of him, and gently calls back to Theresa “get in my car.” 

She doesn’t move. She can barely breath. All she can see is an eruption of black and hazel fur as bodies contort and someone screams. Mav. She thinks its Mav’s scream she hears. The desert wind whips up and the sand swipes her arms and face. 

Tears start to fall. The stinging only makes them worse. Ice turns back to the wolves. Now he was gonna have to get both wolves into the SUV without any help. 

Well, maybe… “She’s alright,” he assures them, turning to Maverick first. “You didn’t hurt her. She’s just… tired.” He just told them she was fine. He can’t admit that she’s scared. Not now. 

Bradley takes a step forward. Ice pivots right at him. “Whoa, Rooster. No. No. She’s fine,” he glances at Mav “you’re both fine, but you’ve got to come with me. We’ve gotta get you shifted back.” 

The black one - Maverick - takes several cautious steps towards Ice’s hand. Once he’s within a few feet, he takes a wiff. Ice smiles. “Yeah, that’s it Mav. Easy.” 

Maverick seems to smile, and with a little yip he closes the distance between himself and Ice. He pops a squat right in front of him, slinking the last few inches. Mav nudges his outstretched hand, begging for pets. 

Ice’s smile only gets bigger, and he obliges, running his hand over Mav’s head a few times, following his stroke behind the right ear and giving a nice scritch. It almost looks like Mav smiles as he snuggles up against Ice’s legs. He’s absolutely beaming. “There ya’ go, Mav. Thats better, isn’t it? Figured you didn’t wanna be stuck out here all night, huh?” He crouches down, scratching behind both of Mav’s ears “Yeah. You don’ wanna be stuck out here, do ya? Do ya?” 

Maverick yips. Suddenly, Bradley barks, once, then whines. Ice chuckles, shaking his head. “Yes, you too, Rooster, I have two hands.” 

Rooster starts walking, but not towards Ice. Both Mav and Ice watch him start towards Theresa. She sees him, and slowly starts to back up. But every step she takes is matched by the wolf. He’s huge. He’s getting bigger. Getting closer. 

She’s gotta hide. Something inside is screaming at her. The screams echoing in her head don’t help anything. She’s able to shake them off. For a second, her head is clear.  She turns and bolts for the Jeep. 

Okay, not that clear. 

“No! Bradley!” 

Maverick’s off in a flash. He intercepts Rooster as Theresa makes it to the Jeep. Rooster growls, looking past him at the Jeep. Maverick glances back and matches his growl. They’re locked in this stand off until Ice closes the distance. He sprints the whole way. Theresa’s in the Jeep, thank god, and she’s got it on. But she’s still got open windows. Rooster or Maverick could easily get in that way. 

“Easy, easy guys.” He goads. He crouches again, trying to get on their level. It’s awkward, since they stand so high off the ground. “Come on. Let’s go.” He motions to the SUV. “Slider’ll be here any minute, and we’re gonna get this all figured out, alright?” 

Rooster seems calmer. The growling stops. Theresa’s sobs replace them. Ice glances at her. She’s got her knees pulled against her chest and her forehead resting on them. Great. She’s of no help right now. 

With a sigh he starts towards the SUV, but backwards, to keep his eye on Maverick and Rooster. Once he reaches it, he pops the middle door. “Come on guys. We’re gonna go back to the hangar and get this all figured out.” 

They hesitate for a couple seconds. Rooster glances back at Theresa. Ice nods, “She’ll follow us back.” 

Maverick sneezes, but without further protest pads over to the SUV. He climbs in easily, but he looks tired. He lays down on the seat, taking up nearly the whole back bench. Ice turns back to Rooster. He’s moved a bit closer, but he’s still got a lock on Theresa.

Ice meets him where he’s at, crouching down and petting him a few times. “Yeah, I know Roo. She’s a little upset right now,” Not scared. Not now “but she’ll be alright. We’ll get this all sorted out once we get to the hangar, alright?” Rooster sighs. “Hey. Hey. Everything’s gonna be fine. It’ll all get figured out once we get back to the hangar, okay? Come ‘on.” he stands, starting towards the SUV. 

Rooster glances back at Theresa once more, and after a moment he - almost reluctantly - follows Iceman back to the SUV. Once he’s in, Ice shuts the door and gets in, pulling up next to Theresa. 

She’s been having a moment. Her eyes are red, and there’s wet spots on her shirt collar from where tears escaped her hands. She sniffles on their approach, trying to seem more put together. 

Ice still practically scowls at her, and everything he says sounds like an order. “Head back to the hangar. Slider should meet us there.” 

She nods, pursing her lips. Ice sighs and rolls his window up, rolling back towards the dirt road they took out. Theresa… Theresa hesitates for a bit. It’s not like she’ll get lost, she can see the hangar from the pile of rocks. She… she just needs a minute. 

What the fuck happened? She tries to wrap her head around it. First, some big black wolf appeared and got Mav. Then Mav… Mav turned into a big black wolf and attacked Bradley. Then… then Bradley must’ve turned into a wolf and they both must’ve run off when the EMT’s showed up. 

Were… were they werewolves now? That… that… I should’ve had that on my 2021 Bingo Card. She doesn’t know what she feels, but it’s not pleasant. It’s a whirl wind of fear, yes, and anxiety. She’s gotten a major… spine tingle, for lack of a better word, as her mind replays Maverick’s… shift? Is that what he called it? She’s not sure, but it sounds right. 

The fact that Tom Kazansky - who she knows is Commander of the US Pacific Fleet the same way she knows that the sky is blue and Taylor Swift sings about her exes - is one of these… werewolves. He’s a werewolf. Since when did they exist?

She combs her memory for the handful of times they’d even been in the same room with him. She did meet him briefly at some ball thing she had to attend for Roosters squad. He’d seemed normal. And… the Slider guy he mentioned. She thinks she’s met him. Something to do with an unofficial “class reunion” for Maverick sometime that summer. He might’ve been out at the hangar at one point. He’d seemed completely normal too. 

How many werewolves where there? How dangerous where they? Part of her wanted to geek out but a larger part was scared and betrayed. She felt paranoid, and she hated it but… I’m not wrong. She told herself.. If… if werewolves existed… what else was out there? Vampires? Witches? Ghosts? Demons? Fuck, it was Supernatural, but real. Was that a true story then? No… their werewolves worked differently. Unless… unless that was what they wanted you to think!

She’s lost in her own fears long enough for her tears to dry and a small plane to pass overhead and land at the hangar. The dust it kicks up stings her face and drags her back to the hellscape she’s woken up in tonight. She begins to cry again, and with a sniffle, tucks her knees to her chest and watches the hangar.

[ltkarma]

❛ flores !   ❜ avi's voice rings out around the hangar , coat pulled up tight around her ears and hat pressed firmly onto her head ( even covered with the endlessly attractive raincover ) as the final few aircraft are towed inside of the steel structure. wind bellowing against the sides as the almost deafening sound of rain hammers overhead - strangely she feels guilty that she's only over here for the numbers - watching quietly as things move inside for the next couple of days as the cyclone bound for the west coast draws over the bay and the base.

❛ you need a ride home ? i think they're closing down transport for the night.   ❜

starter for @mustanged

[juanmecanico]

"¡Temporada de Caza de Cobras! ¡No Creerás lo que Sucede!" ¡Hola a todos los amantes de los autos! Hoy, vamos a explorar algo verdaderamente emocionante: ¡es temporada de caza de Cobras! No, no hablamos de la serpiente, sino del inconfundible y clásico AC Cobra, uno de los autos deportivos más queridos e increíblemente potentes jamás producidos. #CarsOfInstagram ¿Alguna vez has pensado en la cantidad de energía, pasión y obsesión (sana, por supuesto) que se necesita para coleccionar "Cobras" con intención? Sin duda, se necesita un amor verdadero por el automovilismo y una apreciación profunda por el diseño y la ingeniería. Eso es exactamente lo que puedes encontrar en el corazón de aquellos buscadores de tesoros automotrices, dispuestos a viajar lejos y ancho, a veces literalmente alrededor del mundo, en busca de estos deportivos vestigios de una época gloriosa. Nos encontramos ante el representante del sueño americano, un auto que captura el espíritu de libertad y rendimiento máximo. Vehículo nacido de la visión del gran Carroll Shelby, conocido ampliamente por su contribución en la creación del Ford Mustang Shelby GT500. Pero sus creaciones no se detuvieron allí - durante los años 60, Shelby y AC Cars crearon sinergia con Ford para desarrollar el aclamado Shelby Cobra, un automóvil que cambió para siempre el juego de los autos deportivos. El AC Cobra se convirtió inmediatamente en un furor, marcando un nuevo estándar en términos de desempeño y estilo. En un tiempo donde los motores de seis cilindros eran la norma, el Cobra sorprendió con sus motores V8, que otorgaba un nivel de potencia y refinamiento sin precedentes. El ADN de rendimiento absoluto del Shelby Cobra fue y sigue siendo algo de culto entre los entusiastas de los autos. No solo es un diseño icónico, sino que es la manifestación física de la pura emoción de la conducción. Bueno, volviendo a nuestra temporada de caza - aquí estamos, en el año 2020, y aun hoy existen Cobras perdidos en graneros, hangares y cocheras por todo el mundo. Varios años después de su producción inicial, miles de réplicas, versiones y construcciones de kit han surgido, cada una dejando su propio sello en la historia del automovilismo. No se puede negar el encanto de cazar un Shelby Cobra. Existe el latente suspenso, la tensión que crece desde el fondo de tu ser. Es como estar frente a una criatura mitológica. Tal vez está cubierto de polvo, pero no puedes evitar reconocer las líneas suaves e inconfundibles y esa icónica parrilla delantera. Saber que estás ante algo que vale la pena preservar, un vehículo que amplificó el pulso del mundo automotor y dejó una marca duradera en la historia... bueno, es bastante increíble, ¿no te parece? Se trata de capturar un pedazo de historia y preservarlo para las futuras generaciones. Entonces, a aquellos que están en esta búsqueda - ¡Buena suerte en la caza! Que encuentren sus Cobras y les rindan el amor y respeto que estos íconos automovilísticos merecen. Y a todos los que aman los autos - sigan disfrutando cada arrancada del motor, cada giro del volante y siempre, respeten el legado de los clásicos. #CLÁSICOS. ¡Hasta la próxima vez, adictos a la gasolina!

[wr1t3w1tm3]

SEAWOLF - Part 1 - Chapter 1

Monday - May 17th

Words: 2,877.

Estimated Read Time: 12-15 min.

TW: Injuries, biting, animal attacks, blood, some graphic depictions of violence.

They’re working in Maverick’s hangar, near dark, fiddling with engines and car parts in an effort to teach Theresa how they work so she can work on her bike. She knows how human innards work, and these are essentially car innards, so how hard could it be? 

A cool breeze wafts through the hangar, rustling Rooster’s hair and his trademark hawaiian shirt. He watches Mav laying on the ground beside his Kawasaki. Theresa kneels beside him, pointing out and naming a few parts he identified for her. 

“Can you get the lug wrench from my toolbox?” 

“Sure,” Rooster wipes his hands off on a rag and slips behind Maverick's Mustang to get the wrench. He finishes wiping them on his jeans. They’re old and ratty, nearly white from bleaching yet still riddled with holes and stains. He hums a bit, opening a couple drawers on the big red tool box. It’s taller than Mav. He finds the wrench in one of the middle drawers and tosses it up as he turns, but he stops dead. The wrench clatters to the ground. 

Theresa shoots up, wiping her hands on her jeans. Mav’s brow furrows and he glances over his shoulder. 

“Rooster?”

Rooster wasn’t expecting company. A big, huge, black wolf type of company especially. 

“Holy…” 

It snarls at him, creeping towards him.

Rooster’s heart races. “Easy, easy boy…”

It snaps. “Or girl!” Rooster jumps a little. 

Theresa looks at Mav. Both seem confused. Theresa pivots, sitting on the dolly and watching the nose of the Mustang. Mav glances beneath it. There are four furry, black legs, and two old beat up uniform boots backing slowly, slowly. Bradley’s garish shirt is just visible through the propeller. 

“Easy boy.” Rooster’s voice wobbles. 

With a snarl, the wolf lunges. “Oh Shit!!” 

Rooster lunges under the propeller, and the wolf barely misses and launches out from behind the plane. Even from a distance, they can tell its huge.

“Rooster!” A wrench crashes to the ground. Mav’s up and running in flash. “Theresa! Rifle!”

“Trailer?!” She sprints for it. Her footfalls fall hollow as she makes it up the stairs and throws open the camper door. Rooster bolts away from the Mustang, nearly running Maverick over. He plants several yards away and draws a pistol from the waist band on his pants. “You okay?!” He motions for Rooster to get behind. 

“Why the hell do you have that!” He grabs Mav's shoulders as he pushes past.

“Get the rifle!!” Rooster nearly falls backwards when Mav pushes him, surprise etched into his face.

There’s a loud bang as the trailer door slams back against the wall. Theresa jumps the steps, rifle in hand. 

The wolf shoots out from under the P-51. “Give it to me!” Rooster throws his hand out for it. Theresa ducks out of the strap and hands it off to her father in one fluid motion 

“Get back inside!” He shouts, throwing the strap over his head. Theresa freezes, watching from just beyond the trailer steps.

The wolf goes on the attack, lunging forward. Maverick fire’s thrice. He misses thrice. He jukes right, but suddenly there’s a sharp pain in his leg. The wolf is clamped down over his knee and it burns. 

“Mav!” Rooster clicks the safety off and fires. A couple bullets ricochet off the ground before he manages to hit the beast. It let’s go of Mav’s leg, snapping at Rooster. It bears it’s teeth, snarling. Rooster has the barrel dead in line between the wolfs eyes, All he has to do is fire. 

Mav groans, rolling onto his side. He locks eyes with Theresa. She sees pain in his squint and… fear. His eyes are wide with fear. It takes every ounce of will power in her body not to sprint to his aid immediately. Thank God his leg isn’t bleeding much. Her father still has the wolf in check. She doesn’t want to spook it. 

With a snarl, the wolf half lunges at Rooster. He fires twice. It yowls. When Theresa forces her eyes open, she catches a glimpse as the wolf through her fingers. It slips out the open hangar doors, escaping into the Mojave, shooting off to the right as she looses it.

“Mav.” It breaks Theresa from her trance. She rushes to Maverick’s side. Rooster rushes over, swinging the rifle over his back. He slides the last few feet on his knees. Theresa’s already knelt over Maverick. Her hands hover just over his wound. It’s bleeding, a bit gnarly, and she doesn’t wanna touch it.

“Holy shit, Mav, he got you good.” 

“No shit,” Mav let’s out a string of curses that makes Theresa blush a bit.

“Easy Mav,” Theresa murmurs. “You’re not bleeding too bad.”

“Hurts like a bitch,” Mav grimaces, trying to pull the leg back to the correct position. 

“I’m gonna get the first aid kit,” Rooster squeezes Mav’s hand, then sprints towards the trailer. Maverick seethes as he tries to life the leg again.

“Get some stuff for me to pack the wound!” Theresa calls. The wound is a whole ick. The denim of his jeans is in direct contact with the open wound, pushed in by the wolves teeth. The area around it has begun turning crimson. Mav grimaces, reaching for his pocket. 

Theresa snatches the hand to get a pulse. “No touchy. It looks superficial but it’d be hella easy to get infected.”

Mav wheezes, trying to sit upright. “Ha… hand me my phone kid,” he grimaces. His gut churns. His face begins to pale. Theresa manages to hide her shock behind a cocked eyebrow. There’s no hiding the relief that washes over her when Rooster’s boot falls slow and he kneels beside her. He hands her a large, red, plastic first aid kit and an unopened pack of white undershirts. 

She chuckles, but its strained. “Didn’t open your Christmas present, huh Mav?” 

“Give me… phone.” He lays his head against the concrete. Blood has begun to trickle onto the floor. It’s shiny against the dull gray concrete and it sounds like rain. It makes everything look worse. 

“Uh… Brad, get the gauze and something to keep it shut. Call 911 while your at it, too, maybe…?” Theresa tears the corner off the pack of shirts with her teeth. The pack tumbles from her grasp and she claws for a shirt. In a flash she’s stuffing them against and into Mav’s wound. 

“Call… Ice…” he groans. His head lulls to one side. 

Rooster pulls the phone away from his face, and it pales. “Whoa Mav, easy. Stay with me.” 

“911, whats the location of your emergency?”

“Uh, it’s the old hangar out at Inyokern Airport. Pete Mitchell’s been bit by a rabid dog and is in rough shape.”

“Ice…”

“Workin’ on it Mav,” Theresa grunted. “Brad, wrap.” 

“Workin’ on it!”

“Is he still conscious?”

Mav groans. “Barely.” Theresa grunts. 

“Here.” 

Theresa leans her elbow against the packed shirt fumbles to unclip the wrap. “What are you workin’ with?”

“He got some pretty gnarly gashes along his knee, above and below that too. Help me with his leg.” Theresa slides around the blood, lifting Mav’s leg at his foot. He barely reacts.

“Is there someone who could do first aid for me?”

“Theresa Quintar, California RN.” Rooster lifts the knee and Theresa sets Mav’s foot on her shoulder. Finally, she can begin to wrap the leg. “I’ve got the leg elevated, wound packed, and I’m wrapping.”

“How bad is the bleeding Theresa?”

“He’s paled.” Theresa huffs. She notices a dark red stain on her jeans. “And it’s on the floor. You don’t have AIDs, right?” 

She tries to keep the air light, but Rooster’s chuckle rings hollow. He has a death grip on Mav’s hand. He’s holding so hard he can feel Mav’s pulse. It’s fast, maybe too fast. But it’s still strong, that’s good. Mav’s got his eyes closed. He’s grimacing and wincing, grunting and groaning on occasion. He looks so small. Just like how his mom looked so small when she died. 

“Okay. You’re gonna wanna get a tourniquet up above where he’s bleeding.” 

“He’s got gashes half up his thigh! Where do I put it?”

He can’t loose Mav too. He won’t loose Mav too. He grips his hand harder. Mav gives him a little squeeze, but he can’t do much more. 

Rooster watches him like a hawk, as if that’ll help anything. His hair has thinned some, he can’t believe he never noticed it. There’s more laugh lines and crows feet around his eyes, and his skins a deeper tan than he remembers it as a kid. Then again, he’s out here in a hangar in the middle of a desert all the time. It’s not unbelievable. 

“EMS is en route, Theresa.”

“Brad, I need the scissors!” She demands. Rooster drags the first aid kit closer and pulls out the scissors. He hands them to Theresa. She cuts the wrap and tapes it down, shifting Mav’s leg into her lap. “We need something to use as a tourniquet.”

“You can use a belt, a bandanna…”

Rooster fumbles briefly with his belt, his sweaty hands slipping off the buckle and leather. “Here.”

Theresa snatches it and wraps it around Mav’s thigh. “This isn’t gonna be pleasant Mav, sorry.” 

He doesn’t respond. Theresa’s face falls. Rooster grips his hand. No response. His face falls. He glances at Theresa. She bites her lip as she ties off the belt. 

“Mav?” Rooster grabs his hand and runs a finger against his cheek. Nothing. Not even an eyebrow flit. “Mav?”

“He’s out!” Theresa shouts, stumbling up. Rooster runs the back of his hand against Mav’s forehead… and why is it hot?

“He’s running a fever.” 

“Did you just say the subject is unconscious?”

“Well he’s definitely unresponsive.” Theresa walks around Mav’s head, kneeling opposite Rooster. She presses the back of her hand against his forehead, and almost instantly snatches it back. “Shit, he’s burnin’ up. What the hell…”

“Alright, Theresa, Brad, you need to get his fever down. One of you needs too…”

“Grab a cold pack!” Theresa shouts. “Freezer!” He sprints towards the camper. “And wrap it in a towel!!” Theresa shimmies his jacket sleeve. Once its loose she grabs the shoulder and pulls. She knee walks around him and does the same to the other side. Low and behold, Mav groans. 

“Hey, hey Mav. Talk to me. Talk to me Mav. What hurts?” He groans again, trying to squirm. “Come on Mav, talk to me!”

She throws the jacket aside and grabs his wrist. She finds his pulse quick, and it’s fast… to fast. 

“Has the subject regained consciousness?”

“Uh… maybe…?” Mav groans again, loudly. And his skin… ripples. He grunts, rolling towards Theresa. His arm slides out of her grasp and she watches it withdraw against his chest. The belt bursts with a sick *snap* and the buckle skids across the floor. Black fur erupts from his neck and chest. His whole body is covered in it as it contorts and…

“What tHE FUCK!!!” Theresa snatches the phone and runs. The Mustangs the first thing she sees. That’s where she’s headed. Something behind her growls. She doesn’t look back. 

The camper door slams. Rooster freezes on the stairs, icepack in hand. The black wolf is back, trailing bloody paw prints and Mav is nowhere to be seen. He watches it chase Theresa for a second. She tosses something up onto the wing and using the stool, she boosts herself up onto the wing. 

She gets lucky. The stool scoots away when she departs. The wolf can’t use it to grab her. 

Ice water dumps over Roosters head. “Theresa!!”

The wolf turns on him, snarling. It’s huge, bigger than the biggest Great Dane or Dauberman he’s seen. Piercing green eyes meet his own. There’s something behind them… It feels like the wolf is judging him. 

A split second later, the things practically on top of him. Rooster bales, dodging off the steps and trying to run behind the wolf to climb in the plane. Theresa waits, anxious. One hand on the canopy, ready to close it. 

As he’s sprinting, it clicks. Why the hell would Mav want an ice pack? No. he’d wanted someone else…

“Call Ice!!!” He shouts. 

Theresa looks shocked. Unsure. “What?!” 

“Call…!” Rooster falls forward, the wolf on his back. 

“BRAD!!!”  

There’s searing pain in his shoulder when the wolf bites down. “GAAAH-FUCK Fuck fuck!!” 

“Can you hear me?!” The dispatcher sounds distressed. The weight on his back lifts, but his shoulder still hurts. It feels oddly heavy, his whole body does. It’s a struggle just to get onto his back. His shoulder screams at him for it. 

“Fuuuck…” The wolf snarls. Its claws clack as it jumps and as it falls. 

The canopy!

“Theresa!” Rooster shouts. He feels weak, it’s hard to get it out. His throat hurts. His whole body hurts. “Close the canopy! Shut the canopy and call Iceman!!” 

The wolf jumps again, and Theresa catches sight of it over the edge of the canopy. She wants to throw up. She drags the canopy closed. It hurts, digging her nails into the lip as she drags it shut. It makes a funny noise when it seals, and it echoes as she pants. 

“Hello?! Is anyone there?!” 

Theresa nearly responds. Call… Iceman?. She opens the phone - Brad’s phone - and checks his contacts. Maybe it’s a friend of his? Why would he want him to call a friend of his? Maybe he lives close?

She searches ice and finds a contact for Uncle Ice. She pulls her own phone out of her back pocket. She keys the number into her phone and waits, hoping someone will pick up. The wolf outside snarls. She can half hear it in the cockpit. Over her panting. 

“Kazansky.”

Thank God. “It’s Brads kid!” she pants. “Look, something happened and Maverick got bit by something and now there’s a giant black wolf or dog or something in here and it attacked Brad and he told me to close the top and he said to call you so I called you!!”

She catches a glimpse of her reflection, and her eyes are wild. 

“Easy kid.” Ice’s voice is low, smooth. Soothing. “Did you call the police?” 

“I have them on Brad’s phone.” 

“Where’s he?” 

“Outside.” She whimpers. “The dog got ‘im. He…” she can barely keep from full on sobbing “... he told me to close the top and call you!” 

“Okay, easy kid. Easy. I’m on my way.” in the background, she hears him call back to someone named Sarah to call someone else. Keys jingle and a door closes as he speaks “I’m about four hours out kid. The cops are gonna get there sooner so I need you to stay on the phone with them, but don’t hang up on me, okay? Just talk to the dispatcher.” 

Theresa takes a shaky breath and nods, sniffling. “Okay.” 

From somewhere, a grunt becomes audible. Theresa glances up out the canopy, and watches as Bradley, now standing, hobbles towards the trailer. His shoulder is a bloody mess, and drips down his arm to his hand, where it drips from his finger tips. Leaving a trail of red droplets as he shuffles. He leans heavily to that side, the same side the black wolf is on. It watches him, snarling and growling. But it doesn’t attack. Theresa is barely aware of the two phones making noise. One of them tries to ask her a question, and there’s slamming from another, but all she can do is watch this cabaret as her father makes it to the trailer steps, crumples to his knees, and bangs his head against the bottom step. 

He’s out cold. “Shit,” there are tears stinging her eyes and her throat hurts. Sirens start to fade in, but they’re distant. So distant. The black wolf approaches Bradley, gently nuzzling his stomach. It backs up and sneezes, and Bradley groans. 

A small pool of blood has appeared around his hand. All Theresa can do is watch it grow as the sirens get louder. And louder. Suddenly, Bradley shivers and groans, and the black wolf steps back. Hazel hair erupts along his back and down his arms. His body contorts and spasms as his appendegase withdraw towards him. 

“Oh my god,” Theresa cowers into the seat, scrunching as tightly as she can so as not to peak over the canopy. She wants to throw up again. “What the… what in the hell?”

She notices red and blue lights bounce off the ceiling and walls through the ringing in her ears. The dispatcher is telling her that help is there and it’s okay to hang up now. But Theresa can’t bring herself to move. Sure, it hurts the way she’s crammed herself into the seat, but… WHAT THE FUCK did she just see?!?!?

A smooth, cool voice makes its way through the chaos, repeating over and over again. “Easy kid. Easy kid. Talk to me. Talk to the cops. Okay? Can you hear me? Easy kid. Talk to me. Say something.” 

What the fuck can she say? Two doors slam and someone calls out, their voice echoing in the hangar. “EMS! EMS!”

[gurindammedia]

Keluarga Besar Lanud abd Saleh gelar acara reuni Pamucano (Paguyuban Mustang, Bronco, Tucano) bertempat di hangar Skadron Udara 21