The dawn was cold, the runway wet with dew. Captain Elena Vasquez walked the length of her F-35, her hand trailing along its skin, her eyes checking every panel, every seam. She’d done this a thousand times, but today was different. Today was her last patrol.
“All set?” Marcus appeared beside her, coffee in hand.
She took it, nodded. “All set.”
They climbed into their cockpits, the familiar ritual of straps and switches, the canopy closing, the engines whining to life. Elena taxied toward the runway, Marcus on her wing, the base waking behind them.
“Control, Lightning Lead. Reques