Pursued

Diego lounged against the partition beside her, every squeak of his leather as he moved reminding her he watched. Waiting for her to screw up?

“So why’s Wagner the one strapped on the Predator today and not you?”

Was he an idiot or just checking to see if she was? “As the head tester, sometimes I have to step back. I take turns with Wagner and the other four pilots assigned to my team. I know the craft too well. I’m not the average crew member anymore.”

“Good answer.” He waved her to her seat. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just fade into the scenery here.”

He stood a better chance at winning the lottery.

She forced her attention back on work while she and the sensor operator ran through preflight data. Today’s was a simple circle with the camera running, minimal chance of anything going wrong. DT—developmental test—followed such a scripted plan she could have simply passed over the paperwork with the camera footage and he would have been able to assess the mission. But he studied her through hooded eyes, checking her test discipline and methodology.

She knew how to follow a plan, damn it.

Josie keyed up the radio to talk to Wagner. Flying the modified Predator by remote was a snap—except when somebody was in the saddle. Even though he could counteract any of her control inputs, she still carried a lump in her throat thicker than her father’s sticky mac and cheese every time she piloted one of these flights. She’d rather strap her own tush to the rocket any day of the week than have someone else in danger. “Well partner,” she called over the radio to Wagner. “You ready to ride this bronco?”

“I would prefer that it not buck me off if you don’t mind,” Wagner chided through her headset. “But I am checklist complete and ready to go.”

Josie ran through her instruments one last time before the countdown. “Ten seconds to throttle up.”

“Copy ten,” the saddled-up Wagner shot back.

Josie checked her stopwatch and began counting down. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Going throttle up now.”

She eased the throttle forward. Since she sat in the remote control seat, there was no kick in the ass like in a T-38 or a U-2 to let her know the engine was running to full power. Wagner would get that punt. Only her instruments showed a steady climb as power increased. “Ready for brake release in three, two, one. Brakes released.”