TWO WEEKS LATER…
Captain Alex 'Warlock' McCain slid off his slick 750cc 180 miles an hour Harley Davidson. He was a forty-six-year-old Caucasian with jet black hair and brown eyes standing five foot nine. He was dressed in a pair of Levi's jeans, black Nike Air Jordans and a military green t-shirt with aviator glasses.
He was at a hangar at a top-secret Air Force base in the Mojave Desert, miles away from any unwanted interference. He stepped inside, where there stood the most advanced aircraft he'd ever seen.
It was the SR-91 Aurora II, an aircraft which stood as one of the most hotly discussed topic in American military aviation. It was an achievement of the American military, and would be a seventh gen aircraft. It was one hundred feet long, sixteen feet high with a forty-five-foot wingspan. Its body was made extensively out of lightweight steel-aluminum alloys and heat-resistant titanium. It was powered by four General Electric XA-928 engines with a combined top thrust of 200,000 pounds. It was powered with hydrogen enriched methane. It had the world's most sophisticated avionics that would seem alien like if released.
Major Michael stood next to the jet. He was an Afro-American, 150 pounds with a receding hairline. He was dressed in an Air Force blue fatigue shirt, trousers and cape. Next to him was a petite, five feet five Caucasian Air Force sergeant, dressed similarly like her superior. She had blonde hair and emerald green eyes.
"Good evening, Cap'n," Mike greeted with his southern Texan drawl.
"Good evening, Mike." Alex answered and then turned to the Sergeant. "The clothes are fitting you perfectly today, Jacqueline." She rolled her eyes with a scoff.
"If it isn't Warlock, the silver tongued devil," she rebuffed.
"Sorry to disturb your flirting and all," Mike interrupted, "Alex, we have an issue. Lieutenant General Angus wants to shut us down."
"Has he got a valid reason?"
"He says that we've not reached the Mach 10 threshold." Mike answered.
"We still have two weeks until we go for Mach 10, and a further two months of contract."
"We've sucked over seven billion dollars into this project, not to mention last fortnight's accident on the runway," Mike counted using his fingers, "repairs, replacements, engine knockouts, et cetera."
"Okay, I get it," Alex said, "But this project is not dying on my watch. Let's take it to Mach 10."
"So, you," Jacqueline started, "a mere Captain wants to disobey a Lieutenant General's orders, are you nuts!?"
"You'll throw us right in the BS!" Mike said.
"No, I'm not nuts and I won't throw us right into the BS," Alex retorted. That'll just keep the program alive."
"If I'm fired, I'm coming to beat the living hell out of you," Jacqueline warned.
*
Alex stripped down to his boxer shorts and attendants attached medical cathodes to his chest and BP cuffs. He later dressed in a charcoal grey astronaut's suit, lifted the black helmet emblazoned 'MAVERICK' onto his head and locked it in place. He walked out of the room carrying a portable cooling system that prevented him from literally burning up because of sweat. He walked to the hangar where the Aurora II sat placidly, like an obedient horse waiting for its master.
A tug car pulled the top-secret jet onto the asphalt,
its ten wheels deftly carrying the two hundred fifty ton
craft.
"Warlock to Aurora Control. Fuel tank filled batteries full, control surfaces good."
In the control room all attendants crossed off the checklist.
"Pilots vitals on."
"Onboard computers on."
"Fuselage sensors on."
"Fuel and power on."
"Avionics on."
Mike looked at Alex's image on the middle 96 inch
plasma screen. "So you really want to go on with this?" He asked.
"Yes," Alex answered. "This may be my last flight."
"Start engines."
Alex switched on the engines on the left side and then the right. "Warlock is go for takeoff."
"Everyone go for takeoff?" Everyone lifted their
thumbs up.
"Warlock, you are go for takeoff."
The heavy, dark, hypersonic aircraft lurched into motion as the wheels moved it to ninety nine miles an hour. Slowly, Alex pulled the control column back towards himself. Gracefully, the jet lifted off for what might be his last flight.
"ACT to Warlock; proceed to Mach 3.0, height seventy thousand feet."
"Proceed to Mach 3, height seventy thousand feet,"
Alex repeated. He pushed his throttle to the max and the jet thundered to supersonic speeds. The digital display read Mach 3.
"Warlock to ACT; Mach 3.0, seventy thousand feet, opening bleed bypass," Alex announced. Air bypassed the engine and was blasted with methane before igniting in the afterburning chamber. The jet pushed with more force.
"Mach five — entering hypersonic speeds," Jacqueline announced. The outside Lockheed-Mark sixteen feet wide telemetry dish received signals from the jet.
"Mach 6.9."
The jet pushed on. Alex performed a 180° turn, the jet throbbing on. The four turbofan jets continued flying.
"Mach 8.9"
"He's the fastest guy alive," Mike said.
Just then the door opened. Major Angus entered, his sweat covered balding scalp reflecting light in the room.
"Major Anderson," Angus shouted, "what is the meaning of this?"
"Good evening, Major General," Michael answered. "We're taking the plane to Mach 10, sir. That's what the contract said."
"You disobeyed orders from me!" Angus shouted.
"No! You and Warlock take orders from me," a lady shouted.
She was dressed in the blue suit and skirt of the formal USAF dress code. Many decorations lined her left breast. She had white blond hair and blue eyes. The four star insignia on her left shoulder denoted her rank as a four star general.
"Good morning, General Theresa," they said in unison.
"Major General Christian Angus, that's insubordination. I head the experimental planes division and the Aurora is top priority, not your cheap, useless drone thingies."
"Mach 9.2," The computer announced.
"Who's the pilot?" Theresa asked.
"Captain McCain. Captain Shaw dropped out last month after the runway incident," Mike said.
"Warlock to ACT; detecting high heating on window surfaces."
"Mach 9.4"
"Overheating on wings and aft fuselage," Jacqueline announced.
"Tell Warlock to send the methane to cooling tubes," Mike said.
"ACT to Warlock, send methane to cooling tubes,"
Jacqueline repeated to Warlock.
"Roger," Warlock replied, switching on the coolant pumps, reducing the aft temperature.
"Mach 9.6." The jet was now pushing with seven hundred fifty thousand pounds of force. Alex was now sweating inside the astronaut suit.
"Mach 9.7."
"Increasing afterburner," Warlock announced, perspiration clouding his helmet visor. The thrust instantaneously by fifty thousand pounds.
"Mach 9.8."
The exhaust flames from the engines turned from orange to purple. A long line of contrails trailed behind the jet, denoting its path.
"Mach 9.9."
"Come on!" Warlock shouted with gritted teeth. The flame turned blue. The leading surfaces turned bright yellow.
"Pilot experiencing 10 Gs," an attendant announced. Everyone leaned forward expectantly in their seats. The plane trembled. The surfaces got hotter and hotter. Alex pushed the control column a little further. More sweat beads appeared on his face.
"Mach 10."
"YES!" The whole control room went into uproar, people leaning over monitors to shake hands. Angus just gaped at the screen showing in white, MACH 10. General Theresa just looked at him with a smirk.
"You'd better shut that mouth of yours before we have to scrape it off the floor."
The sun rose over the horizon, showering the cockpit with brilliant lights. Alex smiled. And started laughing. Tears started freely flowing from his eyes. After 43,824 hours of designing, 1650 days of construction and 5 months of testing, the Aurora II had reached the Mach 10 threshold that it was supposed to meet.
A small, yellow box appeared on one touch screen. Alex noticed it and tapped it. It read 'SYSTEM MALFUNCTION'.
Hesitantly, he announced, "Warlock to ACT, System malfunction."
"Okay, Warlock. Guys, status," Mike asked, his voice urgent.
"Aft temperature, 2300 degrees."
"Warlock, increase volume of methane in cooling tubes," Mike radioed.
"Warlock to ACT, touch screens inactive, repeat, touch screens inactive," Alex announced, fear in his voice.
"Mach 10.2" The computer voice announced.
"Shoot," Mike cursed. "ACT to Warlock, activate manual override"
"Negative," Alex replied, "Systems unresponsive, avionics and hydraulics down!"
"Sir, the XA-928 engines are recording five million rpms!"
"Aft temperature 3,500 degrees!"
"Freaking hell," Alex shouted, " Coolant system failure!"
"Fuel tank temperature 3900 degrees!"
"Structural failure!" Mike turned when he heard this.
"Get us a visual on the plane!" he cried. The video confirmed their fears. Pieces of metal were flaking off the aircraft.
"Warlock to ACT, MASTER CAUTION!" Alex screamed.
"Shoot!" Mike shouted, "Alex, EJECT!"
And the three hundred sixty billion dollar tagged hypersonic spy plane exploded.