It was Friday afternoon when the Test started.
Two F-35A Lightning IIs, the most sophisticated and, at two hundred million dollars, the most expensive 6th generation fighter jet, sped across the Texan airspace at Mach 1.2. The fighters were armed with four AIM-120 Sidewinders and four AGM-114 Hellfire IIs under the wings.
They were flying close to 100ft above the ground, heading to the foothills that lay before the Rocky Mountains.
"Lt. Christopher and Lt. Ronald, do you copy?" a gruff voice came on the radio.
"We hear you, copy that," Christopher replied.
"Do you remember the course to take?"
"Yes sir," Ronald answered.
"You're clear to go."
The test was an obstacle course designed to test USAF pilots for missions they might do in a wide range of planes and environments. It was the final test to become an Air Force Officer pilot. Christopher ordered, "Let's go."
They pulled their joysticks towards themselves and brought their Lightning IIs into a steep 75o climb and levelled off at 300 ft. They gunned their GE-299 turbofan afterburning engines and entered the winding valleys. They twisted the joysticks from left to center to right and the whole process repeated itself. This, combined with the speed of 400 knots, made Ronald's stomach heave.
"How much further do we have, Chris?" Ronald asked.
"10 miles at most. We still have 1 minute and 30 seconds left on the clock," Chris answered. Ronald groaned. "Can't you hold on a little longer, Ron?"
"I'm freaking dying in here, man!" Ron shouted.
"Level out." Chris ordered. The duo levelled off the F-35s over the 1mile long plain between the foothills and the Rockies at 50ft, the powerful 35,000lb engines kicking up dust from the ground.
"Pop up in three…two… one…NOW!" Both pilots pushed the throttles to the max, gunning the engines and climbing up the slope of the mountain. A warning beep sounded in their helmets. Chris' mounted display on his visor read in red letters:
MISSILE WARNING ⚠
"Ron," Chris radioed, "Flares."
"Copy that, Chris," Ron replied and pressed a button. His F-35 trailed bright hot flares and an Anti-aircraft missile disintegrated on impact. They pressed on. As they almost reached the crest of the mountain, Chris called out,
"Flip the pancake." The two jets belly-rolled and pitched downwards to the valley bottom.
"Locking onto the target," Chris called
"30 SECONDS," the automatic timer called. Chris pressed on. He waited for the system to lock on the target.
"Come on…"
"Chris! Hurry…" The system lock onto the target and Chris shouted;
"Bombs away!" There was a flare of white light as the eight AGM-114signited and sped towards the target at the bottom of the 1000ft deep valley. Chris and Ron disengaged and pulled out of the valley. As they cleared the crest, the target erupted in a bowl of flame. The F-35 pilots turned the afterburner to the max and gunned the engine to Mach 1.6. and levelled off at 25,000ft. Chris immediately checked his watch which read;
2:55 P.M
"Let's get back to the airbase," Chris said. They turned north east and flew for about an hour. Chris spotted 2 red blips on his radar identifying them as MiG-29Ks. "We have bandits, 2 o'clock high," he said.
"Don't lie yourself," Ron retorted.
"Time to pull the brakes." Within a second, Chris had disappeared into the white cumulus clouds.
The MiG was almost upon him when he performed a classic Pagachev's Cobra manouvre, and prepared to dive behind the MiG, who had doubled back into the clouds and came behind the F-35. As they broke through the clouds, two SLI 300 M missiles streaked towards him.
"Holy Molly!" Ron shouted, performing evasive manouvres whilst trailing flares in all directions, causing the missiles to disintegrate on impact.
"Chris! The hell are you?" he screamed, "I'm freakin' dying out here!"
"Cool out man," Chris answered, "Let me just get some more tone on these MFs." His crosshairs were still green as he focused on the MiG, his finger tightened over the trigger. The moment the crosshairs turned red, he pulled the trigger and almost instantaneously one AIM-120 shot out from the plane and streaked towards the MiG, shattering it into a million pieces. The other turned away, trying to escape Chris. He let rip all his ammunition, tearing the MiG with bullets, until it dropped to the ground.
Chris glanced at the setting sun in the west and glanced eastwards. "Let's go home," he said.
They pulled off their helmets and walked out of the room.