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randalsgrave · 2 years

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Sweetness and Light: Part Two

So this wound up being a lot longer than I thought it was going to be for the second chapter. WHOOPS lol. Bright side? It gives you guys a little bit to chew on while I write Part Three. Enjoy it lovelies!

Katie hits the ground running, and less than a week later she's in San Diego. Not even 20 minutes into settling in, she meets one of her classmates.

BobxFemale!OC. F/C: Kacey Rohl

Word count: 3.8K

WARNINGS: Colorful language; not beta-read (we die like men); minor editing

A/N: Fanboy is a car bro and listens to corresponding car bro trap music. Don't @ me. *smooch*

***

There have been only two instances in her life where Katie has been stressed to the point of snappishness. The first was when a seagull shit on her dress whites two hours before a change of command ceremony in Pensacola.

The other one happens as soon as she’s off the Truman at 1600. Needless to say, with all the running around and covering down she’s now being forced to do, she has no interest in going TAD anytime soon after this.

Still, Katie manages, and by 2300, her affairs are in order, and she has her garment bag, two suitcases, and a 24-pack of white Monsters loaded into her old black 4Runner, ready for the week of cross-country driving ahead of her. They’re not exactly the most ideal circumstances to be traveling under, but Katie isn’t going to complain too much. It’s been ages since she’s done a good cross-country road trip and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little excited.

She sets out early the next morning, before the sun has yet to peek over the horizon, blazing a trail westward. She breezes through the bluegrass states, through the great wide prairie of the Midwest, winds through the mountain states. While time is of the essence for Katie, she does make it a point to stop for some sightseeing at Black Canyon of the Gunnison in Colorado and Zion National Park in Utah. Hiking is the one other great love in Katie’s life, and damned if she’s going to pass up even a little bit of time to do it while she’s making her way to the west coast. The peace and the freedom she gets from it are almost incomparable. To be out in the wilderness with nothing but her own strength and brains, beholden to the laws of nature… She’s almost sad when she has to leave.

Almost.

The sky calls to Katie, beckons. She has to fly.

Sunday rolls around - the final day of the road trip. The last leg of the drive is the worst. In her experience, it always is. It’s only eight and a half hours from Zion to North Island, hardly a long time compared to the previous stretches, but Katie is on her last can of white Monster and is rapidly growing sick of being on the road. She’s been on it too damn long, she’s exhausted, and all she wants to do for the foreseeable future is sleep.

And then she gets to North Island and suddenly, everything changes. All the exhaustion, all the soreness and numbness in her legs, all the long stretches of monotony - it’s all worth it to drive past the air hangars and see ‘FIGHTERTOWN U.S.A’ emblazoned above the bay doors. Tears damn-near well in Katie’s eyes. North Island is the culmination of everything she’s worked and busted her ass for, everything she’s struggled for, fought for, all wrapped up in one ruggedly glorious duty location, and she couldn’t be more elated and proud. She’s made it. The assignment, the dream of her wildest dreams, and she’s finally made it.

TOPGUN.

Every emotion-driven cell in Katie’s body screams at her to explore, absorb, take in the full and wonderful force of her new location, and god, she’d give anything to. However, the screams of her body and brain for rest are louder, and as annoying as they are, she’s feeling pretty damn inclined to acquiesce after several straight hours of driving.

Grumbling, she steers her way through base towards the Navy Lodge, her home for the next 13 weeks, and parks. Initial impression? It’s a nice place. It’s nice and big and white and clean-looking, with a Spanish-style terracotta roof and pretty flowers in even prettier planters. For basically being a budget hotel for service members, it’s a damn fancy-looking one. It makes Katie real curious to see what her actual accommodations are going to look like.

After taking a moment to slump in the driver’s seat and simply breathe, Katie slides out of the 4Runner with her wallet and a copy of her TAD orders in hand, and makes her way to the entrance to check in. With any luck, it shouldn’t be a long process. It may only be 1500, but the need for a (well-deserved) nap is growing stronger by the minute and it’s all she can think about, all she wants to think about, really.

Inside, it’s cool and quaintly decorated. Two people sit opposite each other on blue-patterned sofas with their suitcases beside them, and a mother wrangles a screaming three-year-old trying to escape his stroller. It’s hardly the picture of busy, but Katie has no interest in sticking around for too long.

Striding up to the front desk, she keeps her greeting short, sweet, and to the point. “Hi, I’m here to check in.”

The person behind the desk barely even looks up from the stack of paperwork they’re sorting through. “Do you have a copy of your spouse’s orders?”

Katie closes her eyes, takes a moment to breathe and compose herself. She gets it, she really does. Most females that come through the lodges are usually attached to another person who’s active duty; chances are she’s one of a hundred that have come through today with their husbands and families. It also doesn’t help that she’s dressed how she is. For chrissake, she’s wearing shorts and Birkenstocks and half her hair’s in a bun on the top of her head. She may not be a spouse, but fuck if she doesn’t look like one.

Any other day, any other point in time, she’d brush it off and get on with her life.

But right now, she’s tired. She’s real goddamn tired. And boy, does the snap assumption annoy the hell out of her.

She places the copy of her orders on the desk and pushes them towards the desk clerk. “They’re my orders, actually,” she replies quietly, tersely. “I’m here on TAD.”

Of course, now the desk clerk looks up from what they’re doing. Needless to say, when they see the unimpressed look on Katie’s face, there’s all kinds of sputtering and apologizing and mad-dashing, and it almost makes up for the previous behavior. Honestly, she really doesn’t give a shit about the apologizing. She just wants her room key and access to a bed.

Thankfully, she receives it a moment later with a final “My deepest apologies, ma’am,” and that’s that. Katie responds with a sigh and a half-hearted wave of her hand, then grabs her orders and heads back outside to grab her stuff. She doesn’t want to waste anymore time.

The universe, however, seems to have something slightly different in mind for her.

She’s making her way back through the parking lot to the 4Runner when she catches the eye of someone walking by, a tall someone with black hair buzzed close to his head, olive-tone skin, and sharp features. His eyes lock on Katie for one, two seconds - and he snorts in amusement.

He smirks. “TOPGUN?” he asks.

Maybe it’s because she’s been on the road for the last eight hours, or maybe it’s because she’s now crashing from the caffeine she’s been mainlining. Whatever the cause may be, it’s got Katie confused. Christ, she really needs to sleep. “How did you…”

She follows the stranger’s gaze downwards, comes face-to-face with “My other car is a fighter jet” printed across her t-shirt - and closes her eyes with a sheepish grin. “Wow,” she says, “dead giveaway, huh?”

“Maybe a little bit.” The stranger holds a hand out. “I’m Garcia - uh, Mickey. Call me Fanboy.”

Well, he doesn’t present as overly cocky or too big for his britches, and he’s not making snap assumptions about her like the desk clerk did. Katie likes this guy already.

She takes his hand in hers, gives it a firm shake. “Sand Trap. Garland or Katie when we’re not in the schoolhouse. Good to meet you.”

“Likewise.” His eyes rove casually - if not awkwardly - across the half-empty lot. “You just get here?”

“Yeah, ‘bout twenty minutes ago. I’d go out and explore a little bit before tomorrow, but honestly all I wanna do right now is pass out.”

“Long flight?”

Katie snorts. “Long drive. REALLY long drive.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” She starts walking in the direction of her 4Runner, deliberately slow, giving ‘Fanboy’ time to decide if he wants to follow and continue the conversation, and smiles to herself when he matches his steps with hers. “Where you from, Fanboy?”

“Uh, Oceana. VFA-143.”

Well how about that, he’s a Pukin’ Dog. This conversation keeps getting better and better.

“143, huh? No shit. I’m from 3-4.

“Ain’t that Blue Blasters?”

“Sure is.”

“Hot damn. Well, howdy neighbor.”

“Howdy howdy. Probably saw each other in passing a few times and never even knew it,” Katie says with a smirk.

They’ve come to a stop behind the 4Runner at this point. While Katie is pulling her key ring out of her shorts back pocket and fiddling with the button fob, Fanboy is looking over the vehicle, brows knitting together into a ‘V’ that deepens by the second. She can practically hear the wheels turning in his head, can hear the realizations dawning on him. And the second they do… Oh boy, does his jaw drop.

“Hold up, you drove all the way here from Virginia?”

“Took the whole week off to do it,” she replies with a smile.

Fanboy lets out a whistle, long, low, and slow. “Damn, girl. I love driving my car but I wouldn’t even do that.”

“You should sometime,” Katie says as she hauls out her folded garment bag from the trunk area. “It sucks being in transit that long but it’s worth it to see Americana.”

“I’m pretty sure my Z would cry being on the road that long, but I’ll take your word for it.” Fanboy pauses, makes a face, as if contemplating what his next step in the conversation should be. “You want a hand bringing your stuff up?”

“Oh no, I’m-”

“Nah, you know what? Forget I asked. Lemme give you a hand.” He reaches in, curls his hand around the handle of one suitcase, yanks it out with ease, repeats with the other one. “Where’s it going?”

“Uh, third floor, room 317. Seriously though, you don’t have to do that-”

Any attempt Katie makes to sneak her suitcases out of Fanboy’s grasp ends with him waving her hands away and shaking his head. “Girl, you just got done driving from Virginia. You deserve a break. Ain’t no trouble for me, promise.”

“If you say so…” She’s not going to complain about someone insisting on humping her baggage. (Granted, she’s not really being given much of a choice in the matter, but she’s still not going to complain.)

They make their way through the parking lot and into the hotel, riding an elevator up to the third floor and moving through the halls to her room. When she gets the door open, Katie’s surprised - if not a little shocked - at how nice the room is. While it’s not the Ritz, she does have a little kitchen and a living room attached to her bedroom, and they’re both pretty tastefully appointed. The best part, though, is the view. Somehow, she’s managed to score a prime view of the beach and the Pacific. She’s only ever had the Navy Lodge out in Dam Neck as a reference, and Christ, does this place blow that out of the water. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say she was living out of a 4-star hotel for the next three months.

The effect isn’t lost on Fanboy, either. “Damn,” he whistles, “they gave you one of the nice rooms. Mine looks out at the fucking parking lot.”

“Yeah, this definitely doesn’t suck.”

A yawn bubbles in the back of Katie’s throat, a yawn that she tries - and fails - to suppress. It’s the only real warning that her body’s given her, and likely to be the only one she gets before it straight-up knocks her out for some sleep.

She heaves a sigh, swipes a hand over her eyes. “So, uh, I gotta get some sleep or I’m pretty much gonna die here,” she says with a weak chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah, for sure. Uh, you wanna swap numbers? I’m laying low for now but I’ll probably head out for food later. Can text me and lemme know if you wanna come along.”

“Yeah, that sounds great, actually. Here.”

Katie passes her phone to Fanboy, who plugs in his contact info with a few strokes on the keyboard, then passes it back to her with a smile. “Rack out for a bit. You look like you need it.”

Katie rolls her eyes, but returns the smile. “Thanks for helping me with my stuff.”

“No prob. I’ll catch you later.”

Then, Fanboy is gone, loping off to parts unknown, and Katie is all by herself once again.

She can’t help but smile as she closes her door shut. For having only interacted with him the one time, he seems like a really decent guy, which, considering his profession as an aviator, is fascinating to her. Katie’s friends are few and far between, and friends that happen to be aviators are even fewer and farther between. She’s only ever really known them to be full of themselves and… well, assholes. She may be one of them, but they’re not exactly the type of people she likes to associate herself with, if she can help it.

This guy, though? He’s different. If he winds up being her only friend while she’s at TOPGUN, she’ll be okay with that.

Maybe she will take him up on the food offer later.

Only after she gets her rest, though.

Kicking off her sandals, Katie trudges over to her bed and falls into it face-first with a groan, relishing in the feel of the bedspread beneath her and the sink of the mattress. God, she’s never been so happy to sleep in something that isn’t her own bed. Even better that it’s right next to the ocean, she thinks with a sigh. That’s gonna sound so nice…

It’s been so long since she’s been here, the west coast. Years, she thinks. Years since she’s been home. It’s a fact that she tries not to think about too much, but at times like this, the thought seems prone to popping up.

Katie sighs, opens her eyes. There’s one more thing she has to do before she can sleep.

She rolls over, grabs her phone from the nightstand, and opens her texts. Her fingers fly across the keyboard. “Hey Naomi, guess who’s got two thumbs and temporary orders to San Diego?”

It’s barely been a minute before the phone is buzzing with a reply from Katie’s younger sister, one that’s chock-full of caps lock and multiple punctuation points.

“OMG YOU’RE HERE?!?!?!” the phone seems to practically scream. “HOW LONG ARE YOU HERE FOR I HAVE TO SEE YOU!!!!”

“Not Portland here, I’m down in Cali. And I’m here for 13 weeks.”

“I DON’T CARE YOU’RE SO CLOSE AHHHH!!!!”

“Easy kid, don’t hurt yourself lol. I don’t know what my schedule’s gonna be like but I’m pretty sure we get weekends off. Might be able to figure something out and have you come hang out with me for a little bit.”

“PLEEEEEEASE I WOULD LOVE THAT!!!!”

Katie has half a mind to leave it at that and to go to sleep. After all, her sister knows she’s on the same coast as her, and that’s all that matters. At least, that’s all that should matter.

Unfortunately for Katie, there’s more that needs to be said.

“Hey Naomi,” she types, “do me a favor and don’t tell Carrie I’m here.”

Naomi’s response bubble lingers for one, two, three seconds. She’s hesitating; Katie can tell.

“Are u still not talking to mom?”

The response is immediate. “Nope.”

“Okay then I won’t.”

“Thank you.” A pause. “I gotta go now. I haven’t slept in ages and I’m exhausted. I love you.”

“I LOVE U” flashes across Katie’s phone screen a second later, alongside several heart emojis. It’s the last thing she sees, smiles at before tossing the phone back on the nightstand and sprawling on the bed, releasing a deep exhale as she closes her eyes. This is about to be the best goddamn nap she’s ever taken.

And sure enough, within seconds, it is.

***

It’s just past 1800 when Katie reawakens, feeling a good deal more rested after 3 hours of dreamless, motionless sleep. Hell, she feels like a new person after that nap. She knows she’s going to need more sleep in the next few hours (after spending most of the day on the road, she’s got a lot of it to catch up on) but for now, she feels refreshed, rejuvenated.

She also feels hungry. Really hungry.

With a groan, she rolls over and grabs her phone, pulls up Fanboy’s contact info to text him. With any luck, he should still be around and - hopefully - still up for getting something to eat.

“Hey, it’s Sand Trap,” she types. “I just woke up. You still planning on getting food or did I miss that already?”

A response comes through five minutes later, when Katie’s in the bathroom splashing water on her face, trying to wash away the sleep that lingers in the corners of her eyes. “Yea,” he says, “was actually just thinking about that lol. Meet in the lobby in 5?”

“Works for me. Where we going?”

“Idk, I was just gonna find someplace in Gaslamp. You cool with that?”

“Yeah that works.”

“Cool. Imma drive.”

Katie, while she’s sure Fanboy means nothing shitty or snarky by it, can’t help but quirk an eyebrow at the comment. Barely known each other for three hours and he’s already calling the shots on who’s driving? Hell.

“Damn, you haven’t even been in the car when I’m driving. Ouch lol.”

“No no I’m not trying to be a dick or anything. I’m just saying I’m driving because you did a lot of it. I’m giving you a break lol.”

“Fair enough. Be downstairs in 5.”

“Sounds good.”

Yeah - Katie can already tell that this is going to be an easy friendship.

She grabs her wallet, slips on her Birkenstocks, and trots off down the hall, trying to ignore the rumbling of her stomach as she steps onto the elevator and heads down to the lobby. It’s definitely good timing that she woke up when she did; it’s been hours since she last ate and ‘hungry’ doesn’t do quite enough justice for how she’s really feeling.

Downstairs, she finds Fanboy casually leaning up against a column, keys in one hand and phone in the other. Beside him stands a guy a good head and a half shorter than him, with cropped reddish-blond hair and hard features, a guy who Fanboy introduces to Katie as both ‘Kozer’ and his callsign ‘Halfpint’ on their way out to the parking lot. As it turns out, Halfpint and Fanboy are a duo pair, with Halfpint taking the front seat while Fanboy is left in charge of their jet’s laser eye. How about that, Katie muses. So he’s a WSO. No wonder he comes off as relaxed and easygoing and not cocky.

Kozer, on the other hand, while pleasant(ish) enough, is sarcastic and rough around the edges. He makes as much clear with his comments about Fanboy “hanging out and scamming free rides” off of him anytime he’s being sent out on a hop.

“Hey, you be nice to your Wizzo,” Katie chides him as they climb into Fanboy’s nondescript rental. “He’s got your back when you guys are flying. Christ knows I’ve had my ass saved a few times by someone else’s backseater.”

“See Kozer? At least someone loves me.”

“Oh fuck off.”

The three make their way off-base and into the Gaslamp district of downtown San Diego, cruising down the lamp-lit streets to the tune of Fanboy’s phonk and Deftones-heavy playlist. Eventually, they settle on Mexican food at a taqueria - nothing major, but holy mother of god is it some of the best food Katie’s eaten in the last week, if not her whole life. She’s unable to help the groan of utter ecstasy that escapes her when she bites into her first of three tacos loaded with carne asada, chopped onion, and cilantro. It’s heaven, pure fucking heaven, and she tells Fanboy and Halfpint as much. Do Halfpint and Fanboy all but cackle at Katie? Sure. Does she really care though?

Not at all.

“Jesus,” Halfpint groans, “have you never had a taco before?”

“Not after a week of boomer juice and Subway,” Katie retorts around a mouthful of her dinner. As far as she’s concerned, this stuff might as well be the holy grail of good food.

“Hell of a way to end a road trip,” Fanboy mumbles mid-burrito.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I could definitely die happy after this.”

They spend the rest of their dinner snarking and shooting the shit, discussing everything from where they come from to their thoughts on what’s going to happen in the next 13 weeks.

What will happen, indeed, Katie thinks. It’s 13 weeks of America’s best and gutsiest duking it out in the clouds and contrails, learning how to evade and fight, how to dominate. Tensions and emotions are bound to run high. In a school like this, it’s inevitable. There’s only one word to describe how things are going to get in their time here in Fightertown: intense.

And don’t they all know it.

It’s closing in on 2000 when they finally wrap up their meal and head back to base, sated after 2 hours of incredible local food and good conversation. Were they anyone else on any other given day, they would probably be cruising around, looking for something exciting and alcohol-based to occupy another 2 hours of their evening.

But they’re not. They’re fighter pilots, flight officers, doom bringers and dead-eyes here to hone their craft, and nothing more. Classroom instruction may not begin until tomorrow morning, but they’re already being watched, felt out, sized up. They don’t have time to be like the other guys.

Katie parts ways with Fanboy and Halfpint in the Navy Lodge with little more than a wave and a “see you in the morning”. She herself is feeling tired again and is all too happy to welcome sleep into her life again. With what they have coming up, she’s going to need all the rest she can get.

In the solitude of her room, she changes into an oversized University of Oregon t-shirt, steps out of her shorts, and rolls into the safety and comfort of her bed with a long sigh. She’s knocked out within the minute.

Getting here was the easy part. The real work begins tomorrow.

And god dammit, Katie will be ready for it.

@thestagsheadsblog @docdetective

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob top gun #robert bob floyd x female oc #female oc #lewis pullman #bob my beloved #movies #film #top gun #top gun: maverick

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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 2 years

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Robert Fisher: one of the Ten Most Wanted Fugitives

Fisher enlisted in the United States Navy and attempted to become part of the SEALs, but was not successful. He was an avid outdoorsman, hunter, and fisherman. Fisher worked as a firefighter in California but was forced to retire after a back injury. He then moved his family to Arizona and embarked on a career in the medical field. He worked as a surgical catheter technician, and respiratory therapist.

He married Mary Cooper in 1987. He was described as a cruel and distant control freak toward his family, having once turned a garden hose on Mary after he perceived her to have spoken out of turn. The couple fought about sex and money, with Mary taking a job that she told friends was a "security fund." Fisher was embarrassed that his son Bobby did not like to hunt or fish, and once tried to teach him and daughter Brittney how to swim by throwing them off a boat.

Friends noticed him exhibiting disturbing behavior on hunting trips and other outdoor activities. In one case, after killing an elk, he began smearing its blood on his face. On at least one occasion, he snuck up behind a family that was picnicking and emptied his gun into the air. He also killed a pitbull because “he wanted to”.

A neighbor reported hearing a loud argument coming from inside the Fisher home at 10:30 pm on April 9, 2001, approximately ten hours before it exploded into flames. However, police theorized that the murders took place between 9:30 pm and 10:15 pm. At 10:43 pm, Fisher was spotted on an ATM camera, where he withdrew $280. Mary's Toyota 4Runner was in the background.

Mary Fisher was shot in the back of the head, and Brittney and Bobby's throats were slashed from ear to ear. At 8:42 am, the house exploded. Firefighters were immediately alerted to the explosion, which was strong enough to collapse the front brick wall and rattle the frames of neighbouring houses for one-half mile (800 m) in all directions. Before firefighters arrived, neighbors used garden hoses to try to keep the flames under control. Firefighters kept the 20-foot-high (6 m) blaze from spreading to other houses. A series of smaller secondary explosions, believed to be caused by either rifle ammunition or paint cans, forced them to keep their distance. One suffered minor injuries to his leg when he lost his balance and fell near the blaze.

The gas line from the back of the house's furnace had been pulled. The accumulating gas was later ignited by a candle that Fisher had allegedly lit, waiting for the gas to accumulate and descend to the flame hours after being lit. This delayed fuse would have given him an approximate ten-hour head start in his successful attempt to evade law enforcement. Fisher's decision to have the house explode is believed to have been an attempt to conceal evidence of his crimes and possibly to cause police to believe that he had died. The burned bodies of a woman and two children were found lying in bed in the burned-out remains. They were identified as Mary (age 38), Brittney (age 12), and Bobby (age 10). Investigators theorized that Fisher murdered his family because he felt threatened by Mary's intent to divorce him, and did not want Brittney and Bobby to go through what he did as a child.

Fisher, who disappeared at the time of the murders, was named as an official (and to date, the only) person of interest in the case on April 14, 2001, when Arizona Department of Public Safety officers were instructed in a statewide bulletin to arrest him. On April 20, the last physical evidence of his whereabouts surfaced when police found Mary's Toyota 4Runner in Tonto National Forest, near the towns of Young and Payson, Arizona, one hundred miles north of Scottsdale. The family dog Blue was found outside the car. An Oakland Raiders hat identical to the one that Fisher was seen wearing in the ATM footage was inside the vehicle. A pile of human excrement was found near the passenger door. Although police searched the area immediately around where the vehicle was discovered, they only searched one out of dozens of nearby caves. Some of these caves form a complex underground network, spanning out for miles beneath the surface. Several professional cavers have suggested that Fisher used them as a hiding place before either escaping, killing himself, or dying from low oxygen levels. Professional cavers have visited these caves many times in the years since the murders, but no sign of Fisher has ever emerged.

Fisher is considered armed and extremely dangerous and has ties to Florida and New Mexico. He remains a wanted fugitive.

#robert fisher #true crime #killers #crime #missing people #unsolved mysteries

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