The alarm hadn't even gone off when Brooklyn's eyes opened. 03:20. The room was still dark, the only sound in it was James's steady breathing beside her. She slipped out of bed with the ease of someone used to early hours and walked to the small desk by the window.
Outside, the base slept. Hangars squatted in the shadows, aircraft lined up like silent predators waiting to be unleashed. The moon cast a thin light over the tarmac, painting everything in shades of steel and frost.
Brooklyn wrapped her hands around a mug of coffee, letting the steam warm her face. She didn't feel tired just… restless.
She grabbed her phone from the desk, fingers lingering over the screen for a brief moment before she tapped the video call icon. Within seconds, her cousin Ryan's face appeared, lighting up the small screen like a familiar sunrise in the quiet of her room.
Civilian life looked good on Ruan and he was one of the few family members who never envied her career but also never judged it either.
"Captain Grant."
"Ryan." she said, smiling despite herself. "Don't call me that at four in the morning."
"You military types and your insane hours." Ryan said. "What's the deal? Couldn't sleep?"
Brooklyn leaned back in the chair. "Something like that. Got a big op coming up."
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Already? Didn't you just get back?"
"Yeah." She rubbed her temples. "And now they've got us flying again. But it's… weird this time. They're pairing us with another unit. Foreign with no clarity on why. They're being tight-lipped."
Ryan frowned. "That doesn't sound like you. You usually eat this stuff for breakfast."
Brooklyn laughed softly. "I can handle missions, Ryan. But this... this feels like bureaucracy getting in the way. My team's one of the best in the Air Force. If there's a target, we don't need babysitters. So why bring in outsiders?"
Ryan sipped something offscreen. "Maybe it's politics. You know how governments are. Gotta look like they're playing nice, even when they're not."
"Maybe." She stared at the steam rising from her mug. "It just bothers me. I hate flying blind."
Her cousin studied her for a long moment, his expression softening.
"Brook, you've been doing this long enough to know you won't always get the full picture. You trust your instincts in the air... that's what kept you alive. Trust them now. And hey... don't forget who you are. You've led your squad through worse."
Brooklyn's lips quirked into a half-smile. "You make it sound simple."
"It is simple." Ryan said, leaning closer to the camera. "You're Captain damn Grant. You fly like nobody else. Whatever this is? You'll handle it like always."
She shook her head, amused. "You always know how to hype me up."
"That's what bros are for, bro." He lifted his mug. "Now stop brooding and go be legendary."
The call ended, leaving Brooklyn staring at her reflection in the black screen.
She reached for the leather-bound journal tucked in her desk drawer. A habit she'd picked up years ago on deployments... jotting thoughts down before missions. Not for poetry, not for memory. Just to clear her head.
She opened to a blank page, pen scratching softly in the quiet:
Tomorrow we fly again. They're keeping us in the dark and I don't like it. But orders are orders. James trusts me, my team trusts me and I trust them. That's all that matters. If something happens… Olivia, I hope one day you'll understand why we did this.
She stared at the words for a long time, then shut the journal and slid it back into the drawer.
The first streaks of dawn crept across the horizon outside. Engines roared faintly in the distance as ground crews began their morning routines.
Brooklyn finished her coffee, straightened her shoulders and pulled her uniform on piece by piece. By the time James stirred awake behind her, she was already standing at the door, helmet bag in hand.
"Up early again." he mumbled.
"I couldn't sleep."
He nodded knowingly, then swung his legs out of bed. "Big day."
"Yeah." she said quietly. "Big day."