Chapter Text
The morning had sort of passed in a blur, as had everything once she'd learned that she and Omaha hadn't been chosen to fly the mission. She's not sure if she feels relieved or distressed - it's some mixture of both, maybe. Relief that she doesn't have to worry about Omaha, distressed that she can't be out there to watch Rooster and Mav's backs.
And then she'd learned Admiral Kazansky was here, and that threw a whole wrench into the questions she'd been asking herself. Did the Commander of the Pacific Fleet weigh in on the selections? Had she been found wanting by not one, but two Navy legends?
She sort of zones out the rest of Warlock's briefing, and only realizes she's done so when he says 'Dismissed'.
It's as she's turning to leave, to follow her squad, that a voice calls out.
"Lieutenant Bassett!"
She whirls, freezing in surprise when she realizes Admiral Kazansky is calling for her. And then her brain kickstarts into motion and she moves to stand before him, saluting him sharply. "Sir?"
"At ease, Lieutenant," the Admiral says, his voice soft. "Captain Mitchell tells me you're fluent in sign language?"
Halo looks at Maverick in surprise. "I am, Sir," she says, wondering how the hell he found that out.
Admiral Kazansky's lip curls up at the corner, a ghost of a smile. If that's true, tell me what Cyclone last said about M-A-V - Mav, he signs. He spells out Maverick's name, and then does a unique gesture right after - Maverick's namesign, if she had to guess. It looked like the sign for 'plane' - or 'fly'? - followed by an M.
"Uh," she says, carefully. And then starts to respond, her hands moving tentatively - not because of discomfort with the language, but unsure if she should actually be answering that truthfully. But the Admiral had asked, so, He said 'this asshole is going to cost me my career', she replies.
"Hey-!" Maverick says, frowning at her hands as they move.
Admiral Kazansky huffs a quiet laugh, and the sound makes Halo feel like she's been awarded a medal.
"Good," he says. "You're with me."
"Uh, yes, Sir," she says, still surprised. She's not sure what any of this means - that Maverick and Admiral Kazansky both speak sign language, that the Admiral wants her to stay by his side for…for the mission? That Maverick found out she's fluent in sign?
Admiral Kazansky hums, and then turns to Maverick. "Good luck, Captain Mitchell. Come back safe," he says, nodding to him once.
Maverick looks like he wants to say something, but clearly reconsiders it. He just nods. "Yes, Sir," he says, and it sounds like it means more than just those two words.
The Admiral doesn't call him on it, and instead turns to her. "Let's go," he says, and she straightens up, ready to follow him. He meets Maverick's gaze, and they seem to communicate something wordlessly, before the Admiral starts to walk past him. Maverick watches him for a long moment, before turning to head the other way, to the ready room for final prep.
She stares after Maverick for a moment, before turning to follow after the Admiral, catching up to him in a few quickened strides. "Sir, if I may ask-"
The Admiral glances to her, an eyebrow raised. She's pretty sure he knows exactly what she wants to ask. Something to the tune of 'what the hell do you need me for', phrased more diplomatically for his rank.
"My arrival here was on short enough notice that I could not get my interpreter. Captain Mitchell assured me he would handle it," the Admiral responds.
Halo knows better than to ask the obvious follow-up question - what does he need an interpreter for if he's been speaking - and clearly hearing - this whole time? But that isn't something you just ask someone, even if they weren't a four-star Admiral. Which Admiral Kazansky is.
She doesn't ask the other question on her mind either - did her fluency in ASL cause them to not be chosen for the mission? She's not sure she wants the answer to that, one way or the other.
"You're in good hands, Sir," she says, with a little grin.
The Admiral raises an eyebrow, but he lets out that little huff of a laugh again.
Halo isn't sure what to do with the knowledge that the Admiral is amused by puns.
She's kind of not sure what to do with the knowledge that the Commander of the Pacific Fleet is a regular human being, one who laughs.
She doesn't get much of a chance to wrap her head around that, because before she knows it, they've reached the CIC. Her steps stall at the door, and Admiral Kazansky turns to face her at the sound, a question in his gaze.
He'd said she was with him, but- "Sir, am I authorized to be in there-?" she asks carefully.
Admiral Kazansky simply nods, and waits for her to start walking again before he steps in, his gaze flicking to the officer holding the door for him.
The man wisely doesn't ask about her. Apparently being the Commander of the Pacific Fleet meant he could bring plus-ones just about anywhere without being questioned.
Halo's never been in a CIC before, certainly not one this full and prepped for a mission. The hum of machinery is constant, and the dark room is lit only by the glow from dozens of monitors along the back wall.
Admiral Kazansky walks in, and as soon as his presence is noticed, everyone in the room scrambles to their feet to salute. The Admiral waves a hand, walking over to stand by Admiral Bates and Admiral Simpson. "Return to your stations," Admiral Kazansky says, a barely-there rasp in his voice. Halo only hears it because she's following on his heels.
The other Admirals nod to him. "Sir-" Cyclone starts, sounding almost uncertain.
Admiral Kazansky shakes his head and says, "This is still your mission, Cyclone. I'm here so that I'll be better prepared for whatever fallout may happen in our international relations."
Halo is starting to think that the Admiral can read minds. It's something about the steel in his gaze, that piercing stormy blue that cuts right through anyone talking to him. His callsign is a little too fitting.
"Yes, Sir. If you're sure, Sir," Cyclone says, looking both surprised and…flattered? The mix of emotions on his face just looks like consternation, really.
The Admiral simply nods in confirmation instead of answering verbally.
Halo noticed the edge to Admiral Kazansky's voice. Something rough, though he hadn't looked visibly upset, his expression impassive.
She's musing on that, lost in the noise of the CIC as the rest of the mission prep gets underway, when Admiral Kazansky nudges her arm. Her attention snaps to him, first to his face, and then down to his hands when his gaze dips downward.
I cannot always rely on my voice, the Admiral signs. Better for you to be here and I end up not needing you than the opposite.
Halo nods, instinctually replying with I understand, Sir, in sign even though he can hear her just fine. The instinct to fully swap her communication to ASL when someone signed to her was too ingrained to beat.
She wonders how many people know about what he's just told her. It was most likely that he had his aides trained in ASL, so no one would assume anything unless and until he started signing. She feels like the rumor mill would have made this general knowledge, though, especially about someone as important as Admiral Kazansky. It makes her feel more honored, suddenly, to know this. To realize that Maverick trusted her to know this, to be discreet about it. And clearly Admiral Kazansky trusted Maverick's opinion. Which, as far as she knew, was incredibly rare among the brass.
She finds herself thinking about the betting pool. About how Phoenix and Bob must have seen something to make them put money on Admiral Kazansky. It didn't feel like a joke bet, not like Hangman and Rooster choosing Cyclone. But what had they seen? None of them even knew the Admiral was here until the briefing this morning. If anything, Halo is the one who's seen the most of the Admiral so far. And his conversation with Maverick - save for the part that had been in sign - had been perfectly professional, even a touch distant.
She's so lost in her musing that she doesn't realize she's missed all the preflight authorizations until there's the sudden thump above them of the catapult launching a jet.
"Dagger One away," someone in the room reports. Everyone else is dead silent, watching the screens. Another thump. "Dagger Two away," she continues. Two more in short order. "Dagger Three away. Dagger Four away."
A few moments later, Maverick's voice comes through, crisp and clear. "Comanche, Dagger One, standby check-in."
Overwatch chimes in, the E-2 Hawkeye circling high up and keeping an eye over the entire operation area. "Comanche, one one set. Picture clean. Recommend Dagger continue," the operator says.
"Copy, Daggers descending below radar," Maverick replies. A moment later, the Dagger fleet squad disappears off of the screen.
"Daggers now below radar," someone in the room confirms. "Switching to E-2 picture."
The image on the monitor changes, no longer a radar scan, and the squad is back on visual.
"Here we go. Enemy territory up ahead," Maverick warns. "Feet dry in sixty seconds. Comanche, Dagger One. Picture."
The Hawkeye responds, "Comanche. Picture clean. Decision is yours."
"Copy," Maverick replies. There's a long, heavy pause. Beside her, Admiral Kazansky lets out a slow breath. "Dagger attack."
The sound of dozens of Tomahawks launching is a lot louder than the jets taking off, and Halo almost thinks the room shakes a little with it.
"Tomahawks airborne," an operator in the room reports.
"No turning back now," Admiral Bates says, shaking his head and staring at the monitor.
Maverick's voice carries through the CIC, now. "Daggers, assume attack formation." They watch the formation on the screen as it flattens out into the line they'll take through the canyon. "Daggers set," Maverick confirms, "proceeding to target. Two minutes and thirty seconds in three, two, one, mark."
The other three chime in with their marks, and Halo sees Hondo start a physical stopwatch in his hand, at the same time a timer on the screen starts ticking down.
"Going in," Maverick reports. And then they're in the canyon, taking the turns that Halo almost knows by heart, now. She glances around the room, instead. She sees Cyclone and Warlock tense and watching the monitor. And beside her, Admiral Kazansky stands unmoving, his sharp gaze taking in everything on the monitors. "First SAM site overhead," Maverick adds, a few moments later. The room collectively holds its breath.
"Looks like we're clear on radar, Mav," Phoenix says, after a moment. Halo exhales slowly, sees a few other people's shoulders slump a little in relief.
"Let's not take it for granted," Maverick warns.
Fanboy chimes in a little later, from his position at the tail of the formation, "More SAMS! Three o'clock high!"
"We got two minutes to target," Bob reports, and Halo looks at the map, looks at the distance they still have to go. The first team is on track, but-
"Copy. We're a few seconds behind, Rooster. We gotta move," Payback says, putting voice to Halo's thoughts.
"Thirty seconds to Tomahawk impact on enemy airstrip," an operator warns, pulling their attention back to the Hawkeye's view on the enemy compound.
Before the Tomahawks land, though, their overwatch speaks up. "Dagger, Comanche. We're picking up two bandits. Single group, two contacts."
Cyclone's brow immediately furrows. "Where the hell'd they come from?"
Warlock shakes his head, looking stunned. "Long-range patrol?"
"Comanche, what's their heading?" Phoenix asks.
"Bull's-eye, zero-nine-zero fifty, tacked southwest," Comanche responds.
"They're headed away from us. They don't know we're here," Rooster says, quietly relieved.
Before anyone can truly relax about that, though, Maverick warns, "The second those Tomahawks hit the airbase, those bandits are gonna move to defend the target. We have to get there before they do. Increase speed."
"We got you, Mav. Don't wait for me," Phoenix insists, and they watch on the monitors as Daggers One and Three speed up through the canyon.
"Sir, Daggers Two and Four are behind schedule. Time to target, one minute twenty," an operator in the room says, her voice tight. Reporting what they can all see.
"Tomahawk impact in three, two…" the main monitor flips to the Hawkeye's live view as another operator in the room calls out. "Impact. Enemy runway is destroyed."
"They know we're coming now," Cyclone says, his voice tight.
"Bandits are switching course to defend the target," Comanche reports, confirming Maverick's earlier warning.
"Rooster, where are ya?" Maverick asks, his icon on the map rapidly approaching the straightaway.
"Come on, Rooster," Payback echoes. "Bandits inbound. We gotta make time up now. Let's turn and burn."
Maverick's next words aren't for them, or for Rooster. "Heads up, Phoenix," he says, and his smile is audible. Beside her, Admiral Kazansky shakes his head once, but his expression is a little less stony than it usually is.
"-woah!" Bob shouts, and they have no idea what it is they just flew past, but it's clearly an obstacle they hadn't trained for.
"Sir," Comanche calls in, "bandits are two minutes from target. Daggers are one minute from target."
It's too close. One minute doesn't give them enough time to get away without a dogfight. They'll have enough to deal with against the SAMs, and that's not including adding two fifth-gen fighters into the mix.
Up in the front of the room, Hondo mutters something softly, and Halo only hears it because of how silent everyone else is. "Come on, Rooster. Move it or lose it," he nearly whispers.
"Guys, we're falling behind!" Fanboy shouts. Halo feels a stab of sympathy - she knows exactly how it feels to see a situation going to shit and be helpless in the backseat. "We really gotta move!"
"If we don't increase our speed right now, those bandits are gonna be waiting for us when we reach the target," Payback agrees, backing up his WSO. The tension in his voice makes it clear he's got his hand on the throttle, itching to speed up.
Rooster finally speaks, so quiet that she's not even sure he meant for it to be heard. It's a barely-there rasp of, "Talk to me, Dad."
Beside her, Admiral Kazansky goes still. Or…stiller than he already was. His hands are curled tight into fists at his sides.
And like he's answering him, Maverick responds, just as soft. "Come on kid, you can do it. Don't think, just do."
And then there's silence. A moment passes, and for a second, Halo is afraid that it's over. That Rooster can't do it.
Before she can really start to despair, Payback shouts, "Jesus, Rooster, not that fast!"
"That's it, kid, that's it," Maverick encourages, and Admiral Kazansky relaxes, taking a slow breath and smoothing out his shoulders.
"Alright, let's go," Rooster says, and on their screen, Rooster's icon jets ahead down the canyon.
"Damn, Rooster, take it easy!" Fanboy yells, and Halo almost lets out a hysterical little laugh. From one extreme of helplessness to another. Now he's being taken for a ride.
"Sir, Dagger Two is re-engaging," the operator reports. They can all see it on the screen, can hear it in the voices on the comms, but Halo supposes it ends up in the transcripts this way.
"Alright, now hit your target and come home," Cyclone orders, though the squad can't hear him.
"Thirty seconds to target," Maverick confirms. "Bob, check your laser."
"Air-to-ground check complete," Bob replies dutifully a moment later. "Laser code verified, one-six-eight-eight. Laser is a go!"
"Watch your heads," Rooster warns, which means they must just be reaching the obstacle Maverick had warned Phoenix about.
"-holy shit! Shit!" Fanboy yelps.
"Payback, you with me?" Rooster asks, clearly worried at the sounds of Fanboy's distress.
"Right behind you!" Payback vows.
Halo feels a strange sense of run-on deja vu watching all this. Seeing each event repeat itself, just a little off, just a few seconds later.
Maverick interrupts her musing, alerting them all to the next stage of the mission getting underway. "Phoenix, standby for pop-up strike," he says.
"Dagger Three, in position," Phoneix affirms.
"Popping in three, two, one," Maverick calls a moment later. Admiral Kazansky is tense again beside her, his gaze narrowed and locked on the icons of the jets on the screen. Halo wonders if he wishes he were out there flying this mission with them. If he wishes it were him flying as Maverick's wingman.
The planes must have done their inverted swoop over the mountain ridge, because then Maverick's voice carries through the CIC again, "Get me eyes on that target, Bob," he demands.
"Dagger Three- stand by, Mav-!" Bob replies.
"Come on, Bob, come on," Maverick replies, nearly a whisper.
"Stand by-!" Bob's voice is tight. "I've got it! Captured!"
"Target acquired, bombs away," Maverick reports, voice smooth and even. As if this is just a regular delivery run.
Admiral Kazansky huffs softly under his breath, and Halo's gaze snaps to him curiously.
A moment later, his voice under strain, clearly trying to communicate despite pulling way too many G's to still be capable of conversation, Bob shouts, "We've got impact! Check, direct hit! Direct hit!"
Admiral Kazansky reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, nudging his glasses up.
"That's miracle number one," Warlock murmurs.
"Dagger Two- status," Maverick demands, gasping for breath with each word.
"Almost there, Mav. Almost there-" Rooster assures. "Fanboy, where's my laser?"
Halo flinches. It's too late to be asking that. Maverick had called for Bob to check it before they ever popped up. But Rooster's already done with the straightaway, has already popped up, already inverted and swooped over the mountain ridge. Fanboy won't have time to finish his check.
She hopes he'd thought to do it earlier.
"Rooster, there's something wrong with this laser! Shit! Deadeye, deadeye, deadeye!" Fanboy cries, and Halo swallows hard. There goes that hope.
"Come on guys, we're running out of time. Get it online!" Rooster demands, a thread of panic in his voice.
Warlock looks over to Cyclone, fear and worry clear on his face. Cyclone doesn't notice, gaze flicking back and forth between the monitors as if there's anything he can do for them from here.
"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Fanboy cries, and Halo aches for him. Seven seconds is nowhere near enough time to get the laser recalibrated and ready to go.
Admiral Kazansky doesn't move, his gaze locked on the other half of the screen, where Maverick and Phoenix are defying physics and the whims of gravity trying to climb out of the valley.
…Almost like he cares more about the status of the pilots than the success of the mission. She doesn't expect that from the COMPACFLT. Of all the people in this room, he should care about the mission the most, shouldn't he?
"Come on, Fanboy!" Rooster shouts, pulling Halo's attention off the Admiral and back to the second pair.
"Nearly there, nearly there!" Fanboy replies. He's stressed out of his mind, Halo knows, because he's reverted to his habit of making every call twice.
"Come on, Fanboy, get it online!" Payback snaps, in a sharp departure from how he usually talks to his WSO.
"There's no time. I'm dropping blind," Rooster cuts in.
"Rooster, I got this! I got this!" Fanboy insists. And he probably does, probably would, if there wasn't a mountain a few hundred feet away from their noses, at most.
"No time," Rooster cuts him off. "Pull up."
"Rooster wait-!" Payback protests, clearly willing to push the limit on how long he had before having to pull up so he didn't plow into the rocks.
"Bombs away!" Rooster reports, ending the conversation, an explosive last word.
The room goes nearly silent, save for the gasping breaths of all six aviators currently fighting with everything they had to stay conscious.
And then- "Bull's-eye, bull's-eye, bull's-eye!"
The room erupts into cheers. If nothing else, they accomplished the mission. They stopped the enemy's attempt to develop more nuclear weapons.
Warlock clenches his fist, holding it up victoriously as he says, "Miracle number two."
Cyclone shakes his head. "Now they're in Coffin Corner."
Maverick seems to concur, even though he can't hear him. "We're not. Out of this. Yet. Here it comes- radar warning! Smoke in the air! Phoenix, break right!"
Phoenix's voice is almost even as she responds, "Emergency jettison. Dagger Three defending."
Bob shouts, "Here comes another one!"
Maverick's response is, "Dagger One defending." Like it's a simple fact, like it isn't their lives on the line. There must be pause, for just a moment, because Maverick has the time to say, "Rooster, status."
Rooster's response is a low, "Oh my god- smoke in the air, smoke in the air!"
Fanboy shouts over him, "Break right, Payback, break right!"
"Breaking right-" Payback assures.
The cacophony that follows is intense, panicked callouts layering over each other as the six of them try to keep each other and themselves alive on their way out of the canyon.
"Break right, Phoenix! Break right! Mav! Nine o'clock, nine o'clock!" Bob shouts, his voice cutting through the din.
Halo's pulled her gaze from the monitors to watch Admiral Kazansky, in case he needs to say something and can't be heard. Which means she gets a full view of his expression as they listen.
"Ngh-" Maverick groans, and the Admiral almost flinches. It must have been close- too close. "Rooster, two more on your six!" he warns, as if nothing had happened. But judging by the pinched look on the Admiral's face, it takes a lot to make Maverick make a sound like that.
"Dagger Two defending," Rooster assures, and Halo has no idea how they're keeping any of these warnings straight.
They're all shouting over each other, but after weeks of being trained by the Captain, Halo instinctively picks his voice out of the pack, as he says, "Phoenix, break right!"
"I see it, I see it!" she calls, and then they're all shouting over each other again.
Halo doesn't know how long it goes on. How many SAMs they've collectively dodged, at this point.
Except then she hears Rooster, "Dagger Two defending-" and it's the same as all the other times, except suddenly it's not. "Shit, I'm outta flares!"
Beside her, Admiral Kazansky stills, nearly holding his breath.
"Rooster, evade evade!" Maverick urges, his voice tight with worry.
"I can't shake 'em, they're on me, they're on me-!" Rooster shouts, panicked.
And then they don't hear anything, for one horrible moment. They have no way to know what just happened, if Rooster has dodged them.
"-woah!" Rooster shouts, and Admiral Kazansky exhales beside her. That must mean something to him - did Maverick pull something crazy? "Mav! No!"
"Dagger One is hit! I repeat, Dagger One is hit!" Phoenix cries, anguished.
Admiral Kazansky freezes, his gaze locked on the screen, his hands clenched at his sides. He's gone sheet-white, and the fact that she can even tell in this blue-lit room says something. Halo sees movement beyond him, sees Warlock looking to them, but it all fades into the background.
"…Maverick is down," Phoenix says, quieter.
Something crumples in Admiral Kazansky's expression. It's barely there, the smallest tightening of his lips, the way his sharp gaze turns a little brittle.
"Dagger One, status. Status!" Rooster begs. "Anyone see him? Does anyone see him? Dagger One, come in!"
Admiral Kazansky reaches for the edge of the nearest console, leaning against it suddenly.
"I didn't see a parachute," Payback says hesitantly.
"We have to circle back," Rooster insists, his voice cracking.
"Comanche. Bandits inbound. Single group, hot. Recommend Dagger flow south. One minute to intercept," their overwatch interrupts, reminding them all that it wasn't just the SAMs they were running from.
Cyclone shakes his head, looking down, his gaze flicking back and forth, like he's searching for an answer. For hope. "Get 'em back to the carrier. Now," he finally says.
Admiral Kazansky swallows hard, but says nothing. His hands don't move, either.
The operator speaks up, relaying those orders, "All Daggers flow to ECP. You have bandits headed for you."
"What about Maverick?!" Rooster demands, and Halo agrees. They can't just leave him…
"Tell him there's nothing he can do for Maverick," Cyclone snaps, his voice cracking, "not in a goddamn F-18!"
Halo doesn't expect the next voice to speak up, but maybe she should have. It's Hangman, low and urgent. "Dagger Spare request permission to launch and fly air cover."
Halo forces herself to look past Admiral Kazansky, sees Warlock looking to Cyclone, deferring to him. Cyclone closes his eyes and shakes his head, and it feels like an admission of defeat.
"Negative, Spare," the operator relays. They hear a clatter over the line, but nothing else.
"Launch Search and Rescue," Warlock murmurs. Halo bites her lip so hard it bleeds. Maverick went down over land, over enemy territory, over foreign soil. There's no way SAR would be allowed into their airspace, let alone landing to find him.
"Negative, not with bandits in the air," Cyclone insists, killing the idea where it stood.
"But Sir-!" Hondo protests, desperate. "Maverick is still out there!"
"We are not losing anyone else today," Cyclone snaps. Hondo stares for a moment, before his jaw clicks shut. He looks past Cyclone, to Admiral Kazansky, wordlessly beseeching him. Trying to communicate something, ask for him to intervene. But Admiral Kazansky isn't looking at him. He isn't looking at any of them. He's staring sightlessly at the screen where the little plane icon tagged 'Maverick' should be. Where it isn't. Where it never will be again.
"Get 'em home now," Cyclone repeats, quieter.
"Dagger, you are not to engage," another operator says. "Repeat, do not engage."
The first operator nearly cuts him off to say, "Dagger Two, return to carrier. Acknowledge." She'd seen it before the rest of them, the way Rooster started slowing down, falling behind the two-seaters. "Acknowledge!"
The Admiral shifts, and Halo's gaze snaps to him just in time to see him sign, He won't.
"He won't," she says on autopilot, remembering why she's even here in the first place.
And then everyone's attention is suddenly on her, and she's pinned under it, feels like she's about to be reprimanded. "Ah, Admiral Kazansky said, 'He won't,'" she clarifies uncertainly.
The Admiral's shoulders are rigid, and he still isn't looking at them.
"Rooster, those bandits are closing," Phoenix says, barely keeping her voice even. "We can't go back," she adds, and that's when her voice cracks.
"Rooster…" Bob chimes in, low and mournful, "he's gone. Maverick's gone."
They're trying to save him, Halo realizes.
But Admiral Kazansky ends up being right. Either he knows more about Rooster (and the rest of them?) than anyone knew, or his instincts are just that sharp. Probably the latter.
Halo can feel the dismay in the room, thick in the air, as they all watch Rooster's icon swoop away from the squad, veering back into the valley.
The bandits don't even catch up to him, in the end.
"Dagger Two is hit," the first operator announces. SAMs, then. "Dagger Two is hit," he repeats helplessly. They can all see Rooster's plane disappear, the signal loss from his ESAT.
Cyclone exhales, trying to compose himself. So much like that afternoon when Maverick had run the course himself, but for a far worse reason. Beside her, Admiral Kazansky closes his eyes. His hand shakes, and she pretends not to notice.
"Dagger Two, come in," the other operator requests, her voice quiet but urgent. "Dagger Two, do you copy?" Beyond her, Halo sees Hondo reach up under his glasses, trying to wipe away a tear. "Dagger Two, come in," she begs.
But Rooster never does.
And Halo has just heard one of her friends die. Her teacher. The man they all knew would give his life for them. And she has to guess that he had, somehow. Rooster had run out of flares, had two SAMs on him, and then the next thing they heard, Mav was down. Had he taken those missiles instead of Rooster? Pulled some insane maneuver to throw himself in their path, to shield Rooster with his own plane?
No wonder Rooster went back for him. Whatever issue Rooster had with him, he wasn't the type to leave someone behind. Especially not someone that went down for him. In all their training hops, Rooster had always been the first to put himself in the line of fire to save his wingman.
Admiral Kazansky stays frozen, unmoving. His gaze is cold, his expression still, and he keeps his eyes pinned on the spot on the map where Maverick and Rooster disappeared. Like he's trying to will their icons back into existence. Or like he's memorizing where exactly it is, where he wishes he could be.
The other two planes make it to sea, closing in on the carrier. Halo itches to go up there, to drag Phoenix into a hug, to try to be there for her and the other three. But she has a duty to Admiral Kazansky right now. She'll just have to hope he wants to go up there to see them for himself.
And then Admiral Kazansky turns and moves for the door, done here. He probably has to start dealing with the fallout, now, if his phone hasn't already started ringing off the hook. She follows him, casting one last forlorn glance at the screen, before stepping out into the suddenly too-bright hallway.
She's still adjusting to the new level of light when Admiral Kazansky starts walking, so she moves to keep up with him. He hasn't dismissed her, so she assumes she's meant to keep following him.
…And then she realizes maybe he can't dismiss her. It had been clear she was just standing in for Maverick, temporarily taking his place until he got back.
Only he isn't coming back.
The Admiral stops suddenly, pulling open a door and glancing in, before stepping into what looks to be an empty conference room. Halo moves to follow him, but he turns to her and signs quickly, the motions tight and constrained, A moment, please.
"Of course, Sir," she says, surprised, looking up at him. His expression reveals nothing, but he nods in thanks and closes the door. Something thumps against the wall, and then it's quiet.
She's left to her devices, alone in the hall, caught in limbo. And then she realizes the others don't know. And they're about to find out, sure, when only two planes come back, but it feels- wrong, for them to find out that way. She pulls out her phone - it isn't like she's giving out classified intel.
She looks up from her screen, frowning a little at the closed door in front of her. There's been no sound from the conference room in a few minutes, and she isn't sure if she should knock or just keep waiting. But Admiral Kazansky had asked for a moment, and she wasn't obtuse. He wasn't going in there to work. He was going in there to let himself feel it, as a person, as a human being who knew Maverick, knew Rooster, and not as the Admiral everyone looks to for answers.
She'll give him as much time as she can.
Her patience is tested when she hears the jets landing above them, and she has to control herself to stop from running up to the flight deck. She just has to trust that Omaha, the Ivies, Fritz, and Coyote will take care of their teammates.
When the second jet lands, Halo finds herself hoping despite everything to hear a third, a fourth. But of course she doesn't. Admiral Kazansky opens the door in that gap of silence, like he'd felt the same thing.
"Sir-?" she asks, straightening up at attention now that he's returned. She can't help but look him over, but he looks as immaculate as he did before the mission. His uniform still perfect, edges sharp. The only thing she notices is his hair, no longer slicked back in sharp order. It looks like he's run his hands through his hair, set some strands free. It's such a small difference though, she only notices because she's looking, because she's been watching him all day.
He otherwise looks entirely unbothered. Thank you, H-A-L-O, he signs, clearly opting for her callsign instead of taking the longer time to sign her rank and finger-spell her last name. Let's go.
"Where to, Sir?" she asks, trying to remain steady. She's relying on the Admiral's calm, collected state to keep herself on an even keel.
We need to debrief the remaining Dagger squad members, he signs, his movements measured and slow. The tight, jerky motions from before are gone, almost like he's just talking about paperwork. Like he isn't talking about the death of an old friend.
"Yes, Sir," she says. She wonders where they'll debrief - the briefing this morning was in the hangar, which is definitely not where they'd debrief. She doesn't know this ship enough to know which rooms are for that - though maybe the conference room the Admiral had just ducked into is one of them.
He nods back to the CIC, and Halo moves to follow him, just a step behind and to his right - the same spot that Maverick had taken, this morning. Fuck.
He opens the door and steps in, and Cyclone and Warlock look to him. They clearly hadn't moved, going through the post-landing procedures. Admiral Kazansky half-turns to her, and signs, Ask them where the debriefing will be held, please.
"Admiral Kazansky would like to know where the debriefing will be, Sirs," Halo translates, turning to Cyclone as she speaks.
Cyclone nods, his expression still tight and pinched. "Down the hall to the left," he says. And then, to the sailor by the door, "Simmons, go up to the flight deck and bring those four to conference room 3, ASAP."
"Yes, Sir," the man says with a sharp salute, before turning on his heel and leaving the room.
Admiral Kazansky nods, glances once in passing at the monitors, the now empty screen with no planes in the air, and turns to leave. Halo goes with him, and they find that conference room 3 is right across the hall from the one he'd ducked into. She follows him in, and he moves to take a seat at the center of the table. It's a small conference room, just large enough to fit a dozen or so people at the table, a few more along the walls.
She stalls in the doorway, unsure where she's supposed to sit. She's never been in one of these where she wasn't the one being debriefed. The Admiral nods to a seat across from him at a diagonal, so she can see his signs easily without being in the way of the aviators being debriefed. She understands as soon as he gestures to the seat, and goes to it. She doesn't sit yet, though. She'll have to stand when the Admirals arrive regardless, but even if she didn't, she wants to hug her teammates when they get here.
There's a commotion in the hall after a bit, and then the door opens and Warlock holds the door as Cyclone steps in, striding around the table to sit beside Admiral Kazansky. She salutes him and Warlock both, and then she sees behind them, the four aviators that made it home.
"At ease, Lieutenant," Warlock says, and Halo bolts, moving to all but fling herself at Phoenix and hug her hard.
"Halo-" Phoenix breathes, her voice brittle.
Halo just squeezes her a little tighter. "I'm so glad you're okay," she whispers. And then she lifts her head and meets Bob's gaze, a silent question in her eyes. Wondering if he wants to be hugged - if he wants to be touched right now. He just nods once, his eyes red, and she moves to hug him next, wrapping her arms around him tight. He doesn't say anything, and she doesn't either, just squeezing once.
Fanboy and Payback are behind them. Fanboy's leaning heavily into Payback's side, and Payback has his arm tightly around him. She doesn't want to separate them, so when Bob pulls away she just squeezes both of their arms, she's sure she's showing them the same ache in her gaze that she can see in theirs.
Warlock shuts the door behind them, and she moves back to the seat Admiral Kazansky had told her to take. It puts her next to Phoenix, and she presses her boot to hers as soon as she sits down, hoping the contact helps.
And so it begins.
The Admirals - and Halo, when Admiral Kazansky has something to say - have the Daggers walk them through the mission from the start to the bitter end. They spend some time on Fanboy's faulty laser, trying to understand what happened, why it wasn't ready, why he hadn't caught the deadeye earlier. It had been right when they'd kicked up their speed to keep up with Rooster, and he'd had to focus on other things for just long enough for it to be a problem.
They don't press too hard on him in reality, because it ended up alright. Because Rooster's blind drop was the only blind drop in all the weeks of practice to succeed, and right when it mattered most.
And then they get to Coffin Corner, and Halo watches Admiral Kazansky…sharpen. He doesn't shift, not outwardly, but something in the weight of his presence changes. The intensity of his attention falling onto them. She straightens up instinctively.
What happened to Mav? he signs, his hand hesitating for only a heartbeat on the namesign he'd shown her earlier this morning. Halo dutifully repeats the question aloud for them, only she doesn't shorten the Captain's name. "What happened to Maverick?"
Phoenix and Bob had been closest, and she takes a steadying breath before she starts to speak. "We'd dodged at least a dozen SAMs by that point," she says. "Rooster rolled, trying to defend, but he'd run out of flares. Mav- Mav told him to evade, but they'd already locked on him. And then he pulled a Cobra maneuver, and dropped his own flares while he was over Rooster." She's looking past the Admirals, at the wall, trying to hold herself together. Knowing if she sees the pity, the sympathy, in their eyes, that she'll break. "It…It worked. The first SAM blew up in his chaff. The…the second one hit him, sheared his plane in two," she says shakily.
Admiral Kazansky's hands clench as Phoenix speaks, and Halo thinks she's the only one who notices, because she's got her eyes on his hands constantly.
"I tried to watch for a chute," Bob speaks up, his voice low. "All I could see was the nose spinning until we were blocked off by a hill."
"And then?" Cyclone asks, his voice the gentlest that Halo has ever heard it.
"And then Rooster fell behind," Fanboy says. "He started slowing down, and I thought he was just trying to cover us, until he stopped responding on comms. He swerved left out of the first opening in the canyon he spotted, and that's- that's all I could see."
"A SAM took his plane out," Warlock says. "The bandits never made it there, they turned back once you four hit the ocean."
They sit there in silence at that, for a moment, then two.
Warlock takes a slow breath, and then nods to them. "Thank you, aviators. That's all for now. You did good today. And you did all you could for your team. Don't let yourselves get lost in wondering what you could have done differently. You did the best you could with what many thought was an impossible ask." He pauses, looking over the four of them. "Dismissed."
The four of them stand, slow and almost reluctantly. And then they turn for the door. Halo stands with them, but then steps to the side, and doesn't follow them. Phoenix looks back to her with a question in her eyes, but Halo just nods once. Phoenix squeezes her arm and then goes.
Halo turns back to Admiral Kazansky, who meets her gaze and moves to stand.
Cyclone and Warlock look to each other once Admiral Kazansky is standing, and seem to be conversing without words.
"Sir," Warlock says carefully, evidently having lost whatever he and Cyclone were silently arguing about. "Do you need anything? We can get someone to bring you some food," he offers.
Admiral Kazansky raises an eyebrow at them. He angles himself to make sure Halo can see him before signing No, thank you.
"He says 'No, thank you,' Sirs," Halo reports.
Warlock nods once, though his expression says he isn't happy about it. Admiral Kazansky doesn't wait any longer, striding out into the hall. Halo scrambles to follow him, only to realize he's heading back for the CIC.
"Sir?" she asks, speeding up to keep up with him. Fuck, his legs were long, she doesn't even think he's actively trying to hurry.
He steps into the darkened room - now a good deal emptier than it was before - and goes back to where he'd been standing before. He doesn't seem inclined to explain, so Halo just moves to stand with him. She'd pulled longer duty stretches before, and it's only been a few hours.
Or maybe it's been longer. Time got a little fuzzy in the belly of the carrier.
She's not sure what the Admiral is looking for, but she stands by him all the same. At some point, Warlock and Cyclone return, both of them looking to Admiral Kazansky and then the monitors.
And then Halo sees that the Hawkeye is still in the air, and she realizes they're still hoping for the airspace to be clear. For them to be able to launch SAR.
She wonders if there's anything to find at this point besides bodies. And she hates herself a little for not being able to hold onto hope.
"Sir…" one of the operators says, turning back to look at the Admirals. "We're receiving a signal from Rooster's ESAT," he says.
All three of the Admirals' gazes snap to him, instantly.
"But there seems to be a malfunction," he continues carefully.
"Have you lost him?" Warlock asks immediately.
"No, Sir," the operator says, shaking his head with a ghost of a smile. "He's supersonic."
"He's airborne," Warlock realizes.
"In what?" Cyclone asks, looking to Warlock in astonishment.
Another operator seems to have the answer, "Sir, overwatch reports an F-14 Tomcat is airborne and on course for our position."
Admiral Kazansky turns to her. "Launch Dagger Spare," he says, his voice hoarse but urgent.
"Sir-?"
"Now," he says.
She turns back to her console, quickly speaking into the microphone. Ordering them to get Dagger Spare onto the catapult. Has Hangman been sitting in his jet's cockpit for hours?
"Can't be. It- it can't be-" Warlock says, shaking his head.
"Maverick," Cyclone murmurs, stunned.