fitting out. With one or two exceptions he knew very little about who was
aboard the carrier.
But he knew the name Stinger Stramaglia. There were very few Top Gun
graduates these days who didn’t.
“You’re kidding,” he said slowly. “What’s the Old Man doing out here?”
Captain Joseph Stramaglia had been a Top Gun legend, one of the finest
students to pass through the training program. He’d stayed on as an
instructor after graduating, and worked his way to the top of the team who
flew the aggressor planes students honed their skills against in weeks of
constant aerial duels. Instead of the usual four- or five-year tour as a Top
Gun teacher, Stramaglia had been there for almost eight. It was said that
Stramaglia had never been beaten in a dogfight in all that time.
Certainly Matthew Magruder had never come close to beating him in the
five weeks he’d been at Miramar.
“It’s him, all right,” Batman said. “He’d left Miramar by the time I got
my shot, but I saw pictures of him. And I heard stories I thought couldn’t
possibly be true … not until I got to meet the man in person.”
“Yeah,” Magruder said. “Yeah, he’s a tough one, all right.”
“Tough! His running name should’ve been Pit Bull! Next to him old Jolly
Greene was a saint!”
Tombstone didn’t answer. He crossed to the locker where he’d left his
meager belongings the night before without bothering to unpack. While he
dressed he thought about Stramaglia, about the man’s reputation as a harsh
taskmaster and the way he had ridden Magruder at Top Gun, in the air and on
the ground alike.
Having the man as his superior officer was going to make this tour on the
Jefferson … what? Difficult? Rewarding? Tombstone didn’t know.
But it certainly wouldn’t be dull, that much was sure.
Batman went on talking, apparently unaware that Tombstone’s mind wasn’t
on the younger pilot’s words. “Hey, Stoney,” he said as Magruder made a few
hasty passes across his face with an electric razor. Tombstone looked at him,
shoving thoughts of Captain Stramaglia aside.
“You should see the walls at Fightertown! They got so many plaques up
there with your name on them that they ought to open up a new wing just to
hold ’em!”
Tombstone laughed. It was an old tradition that the air-to-air kills of
Top Gun graduates were commemorated on wall plaques. But on his first tour
out of Top Gun Magruder had scored a long string of kills against North
Koreans, Chinese renegades, and the Indian Air Force. “Well, how about you?
You’ve had your share, Batman.”
Wayne made a face. “That’s what I told them, man! But I wasn’t an
alumnus when I nailed ’em!”
They left together, heading down the seemingly endless corridors toward
the offices set aside for the Air Wing’s staff. As Magruder rounded a corner
and stepped high to avoid a “knee-knocker” he heard Coyote’s voice intone
solemnly, “See, the conquering hero comes!”
Viper Squadron’s new commander was sitting at a desk inside one of the
offices. Malibu Blake was with him, leaning back in a chair and managing to
look like he was on a beach soaking up a few rays.
“Bet you never thought we’d be here, did you, Stoney?” Batman asked.
Magruder laughed. “Hell, no. No way. But I guess they couldn’t split
up the Three Musketeers for good, huh?”
“Well, thanks a lot, dude,” Malibu said. “I guess I know when I’m not
wanted!”
“I just figured you’d’ve ditched this loser by now, that’s all,”
Tombstone said, jerking a thumb at Batman. “I thought you had more sense than
that!”
“Hey, that’s my main compadre you’re talking about,” Malibu shot back
with a grin. “And the squadron XO. So watch the insults, ‘kay, dude?”
“If you people are quite through,” an acid voice cut through their
laughter. “Magruder! Get your ass into my office now. And you, Wayne, had
better have your report on that Bear hunt finished and on my desk already!”
Tombstone turned and found himself looking straight into Captain Joseph
Stramaglia’s jet-black eyes. Jefferson’s CAG was a small man, but with a
presence that could dominate any crowd. He had one of his famous cigars in