The red ford mustang slipped into the spot marked CO. The driver parked and then opened the door. As he stepped out of the car he slipped on a blue hat, turned and closed the door.
He stood for a brief second and looked out over the parking lot. It had a few cars in it.
“Well, Brad me boy. Time for another day.” He said to himself as he turned and started for the door. His confident stride was all that would mark him as different than any other 38 year old. But those that followed the military knew that the man was the head of a very controversial fighter squadron.
The squadron was formed in the aftermath of the Taiwan war. During that war the United States Air Force scored one Chinese aircraft destroyed for every three Air Force fighters destroyed in air combat.
Brad had emerged as the leading ace with thirty-four Chinese fighters to his credit. He had also blasted the Air Force for relying on the radar guided AMRAAM as the main reason for the poor exchange ratio.
He opened the door and walked into the building. He slipped off the hat and into a pocket on the leg of his dark green flight suit. Then he slipped off the sunglasses and put them into a pocket on his arm.
“Morning Boss.” He heard as he walked to the stairs.
He stopped and looked at the person who had said morning to him. “Morning David. You’re in early,” he said as he saw David walking towards him.
David Jordan stood 5’9” with thinning hair and an ample waistline. He was the squadron’s intelligence officer.
“Just trying to catch up with the idiots at the CIA.” David said with disdain.
“And what do they say about Cuba?” Brad asked, knowing that was the reason that David would be in so early.
“They don’t know what to think now that Castro is finally dead.” David replied.
“Hmph,” Brad grunted. The Cuban dictator had died four days ago and a power struggle was going on in Havana.
“Anything new?” Brad asked.
“It looks like a guy named Rafael Hernandez has won and is consolidating his power. The CIA has no information about this guy. It’s like he just materialized out of nowhere.” David stopped and started shaking his head from side to side. “We have also had unconfirmed reports that he has already signed a military treaty with China. Who knows what is in that treaty.”
As he listened he felt an uneasy feeling start to gnaw at him. He shook his head as this feeling was the same as just before the squadron was sent to Egypt.
“Why don’t you put together a briefing on the Cuban military. I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this.” Brad said as he turned and started for his office.
“Got ya boss.” David said before he turned and started towards his office.

Brad turned and walked into his own office. As he walked his thoughts turned to the squadron. In the wake of what they did in Libya his squadron has grown from eighteen aircraft and twenty-two pilots to twenty-four aircraft and forty-eight pilots. What was even more important was that the aircraft they flew were to his specifications.
“Morning Paula.” He said as he saw his secretary sitting at her desk.
“Morning boss,” She replied as she looked up from the papers on her desk. “Colonel Peterson called.”
“Do you know what it’s about?” He asked.
“No, I don’t. “ Paula replied as Brad opened the door to his office. The 388th fighter wing was stationed at Hill Air force Base with Brad’s squadron. Colonel Peterson was the wing commander.
“Okay, I’ll call him.” He said as he reached his desk.
He glanced at his desk and saw the stack of paperwork waiting for him. He smiled, as he knew that it would have to wait.
Brad stopped to look at the picture on his desk. A blonde woman in the picture was smiling back at him. He felt his heart skip a beat as he thought about her.
They had met four years ago when she had flown to Taiwan as part of a congressional fact finding tour. He had been a lieutenant in the navy on an exchange tour with the air force and the leading ace in the war. He had ripped into the air force for relying on the radar guided missile and told her that he could build a wing of fighters that could beat the F-22 in combat. She believed him and used her influence as a member of the House of Representatives to get his squadron built. Working together they had fallen in love, and had gotten married just six months ago.
She had told him that she wasn’t going to seek reelection to the House.
He felt a twinge of guilt because of her decision but accepted her story that she was tired of the BS that went on in Washington.
Brad breathed a sigh as he was also getting very tired of having to deal with the BS coming from Washington. If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed to prove to the Air Force that the radar guided missile will never work and weren’t worth the money he would also retire. But he knew that the air force was still pushing the F-22.
He pushed those thoughts aside as he turned and started for the door.