13 January 2025 – Spangdahlem Air Base, Spangdahlem, West Germany

Tom looked at his wife as she gazed across the snow outside their townhouse. They returned from the US a week ago.

“What are you thinking about, Babe?”

“Still trying to wrap my head around Ryan’s life for the past five years.” She glanced at her husband. “Makes what I had to deal with at the academy seem pretty silly in comparison.”

“It’s not silly while you’re going through it, Sabrina. Don’t make what you went through sound insignificant. The cultures at USAFA and the other service academies are changing because of your actions. And for the better. That’s causing ripples across the armed services, though those changes will take longer.”

“How many thousand of us are there in the military, Tom? Ryan was going to play professional baseball! There aren’t that many people who get to do that!”

“And how many who were ‘going’ to play pro sports have their dreams derailed by injury, too? How many people who want to be pilots can’t afford lessons, can’t take the time to train, or have medical issues that prevent them from passing even an FAA Class III flight physical? Forget about the testing you and your colleagues go through.” Tom paused.

“Someone losing their dream isn’t something to be brushed off lightly, nor am I doing so in Ryan’s case, Sabrina. Your brother has to overcome several hurdles to live an ‘average’ life. His addictions are the main ones. He’ll fight to stay sober and clean every day for the rest of his life. Learning to trust himself again is one hurdle, and learning to trust others is still another.

“His ankle will never allow him to play high-level sports again. But he can still coach, he can umpire, and he can run a league. Ryan needs to be brave enough to try, to not allow his past experiences to keep him out of the life he’s trying to rejoin.”

Tom gathered Sabrina into his arms again.

“Ryan’s not as weak as he thinks he is. To survive five years the way he did is remarkable, Sabrina. People underestimating your brother might be the advantage he needs.”

Sabrina stood at attention at the change of squadron command ceremony at the end of January. They let people sit for the speeches. Everyone stood again, and military members went to attention for the thirty-second transfer of the squadron guidon.

“I hope you enjoy your retirement, Sir,” Sabrina said hours later.

“Tim, Sabrina. I’m Tim now,” Tim Doherty told her as he shook her hand. His retirement party ended fifteen minutes ago after being delayed six months because of personnel issues. “It was a pleasure having you in my squadron. Best of luck to you, and keep in touch.” He handed Sabrina a card with his cell phone number and email address. “And keep kicking ass.”

Sabrina fired him one last deserved salute before he left.

The 22nd stood at attention again as the new CO inspected his command the following day. The squadron wasn’t in ranks like yesterday but in their office areas as Lieutenant Colonel Hudson Stark wandered through. Lieutenant Colonel Matos showed him around. Colonel Stark stopped outside Sabrina’s office.

“Is she the one I’ve heard about?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Colonel Stark stepped inside and held out his hand. Sabrina dropped her salute now that Colonel Stark returned it.

“At ease Captain. A pleasure to meet you. Colonel Matos tells me you’re the one to beat.”

“The Colonel exaggerates, Sir. I have less than a thousand hours in my book and plain wings. No star, no wreath. Just another Raptor rider, Sir.”

“About what you said she’d say, Butter,” the CO mentioned to his operations officer.

The colonels had known each other since their first squadron assignment, and Colonel Stark loved to cook. ‘Butter’ came from ‘ghee’ (another name for the spread without the milk solids), which sounds like ‘gee.’ ‘Gee’ is a contraction of ‘Portagee,’ itself a corruption of ‘Portugese.’ That was Colonel Matos’ heritage.

“That’s because I’m smarter than you, Iron Man.” Matos scratched his chin. “Of course, you’re the one who commands a squadron, not me, so there’s that.”

“I’ll buy you a drink later to soothe your hurt feelings, okay?” Stark promised Matos and then refocused on Sabrina. “How are you holding as deputy flight commander and squadron training officer, Captain?”

“And online SOS student …” Matos added.

“Seriously? Do you have any free time?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sabrina assured her CO. “My husband and I make a point to take every weekend off if I’m not on duty.”

“That’s good thinking. Too many young officers, me and Butter included back in the day, forget to enjoy life. What does your husband do while we have you tied up?”

“He’s a CPA, Sir. Tom works for Legal Aid as an accountant or tax professional for the folks here. Whichever they need.”

“I look forward to meeting your husband at some point.”

“Got wait listed at TPS again, Raikou? Who did you piss off?” Colonel Matos asked.

“I wish I knew, Sir. Maybe I’ll get in before I make major.”

“Well, I hope you get in soon, Captain,” Colonel Stark said. “Not that the 22nd would welcome your departure.”

“My time’s up here soon anyway, Sir. It’s probably back to the States for me by year’s end.”

Stark nodded before he left with Colonel Matos.

Sabrina coasted through the rest of winter, spring, and into the summer. Time passed with patrols, training, and way too much paperwork. It was near the end of June before she heard anything about Test Pilot School again. Another wait list letter.

“They must not like me for some reason,” Sabrina sighed when she saw the thin, regular-size envelope.

“You can be a bit of a hard-ass,” the man behind her in the post office said.

“Stop staring at my ass, Griff.”

“I stare all the time, Sabrina, but relying on visual inspection alone can be misleading. Touching will get me into real trouble, so I won’t go that route!”

“Sounds like a wise decision on your part.”

“Yeah, I don’t want Tom angry at me. That would be bad.”

“You!” Sabrina squawked as she lunged at Griff and tried to put him in a headlock. Martial arts work better when you’re not laughing.

By July 2025, Sabrina had earned her Senior Pilot wings, which added a star atop the badge she’d worn since ENJJPT. She also garnered quite a reputation across USAFE and their fighter squadrons. Sabrina joked people were double- or triple-teaming her fighter during training exercises. Which, of course, led to more inappropriate humor from her fellow pilots in the 22nd.

August finally brought a change.

“Sir, Captain Knox-Jones reports!”

“At ease, Captain,” Colonel Stark said while gesturing to a chair in his office. “How’s life as ‘just’ my Charlie Flight lead?”

“You mean since I’m no longer taking any online classes, Sir? Pretty good.”

“Well, I’m afraid life is about to change.” Stark tossed a paper across his desk. Sabrina noticed the Air Force logo and ‘HQ, USAF’ at the top.

“Nellis?” Sabrina would transfer to Nellis Air Force Base outside Las Vegas and report no later than October 1st.

“It’s not Edwards though it’s in the same geographical area.”

“Southwest CONUS, Sir? Same general climate, too.” Sabrina looked at her new unit’s designation. “I thought the 65th was an F-35 squadron, Sir?”

“It is, but they’re adding a flight of F-22s and want the best of the best as an aggressor pilot.” She gave her boss a look. He smiled back. “People who fly with you aren’t letting you forget how good you are, Sabrina. Even if you don’t want to admit you are.”

“Bragging bites you in the butt, Sir. There’s always someone better waiting in the wings.”

“Well, send them my way after you transfer to help fill the gap, would you?”

Tom only nodded when Sabrina showed her orders to him to inspect that night. He turned back to his ebook.

“That’s it? Only a casual nod to acknowledge our life will change again when we move out of here in a month?”

“Babe, you’re an Air Force officer. Change is expected. You’re late, honestly, because you should be finishing TPS right now.”

“Don’t remind me!” she growled.

“I will remind you that you were worried about only serving in one operational squadron before TPS. This is a solution to that problem!” Tom tapped his tablet. “It’s only one hundred degrees there today. I hope they have good air conditioning in the on-base housing units.”

“Tom,” Sabrina said in exasperation. “I’ll be the one roasting in an open cockpit. Forget about when it’s closed!”

“So negative, Sweetheart! Focus on the positives!”

“Like I’m going to positively hurt you later?”

“If it’s the kind of hurt I’m thinking about, I hope so!”

“You’re incorrigible!”

Sabrina smiled at her husband. This teasing was typical during their time together, and she enjoyed it. It was similar to when they were in school together in Massachusetts and picked right up again when they started going out together in Colorado.

Their closeness was one of the reasons Sabrina told Tom she’d rather keep their queen-size bed than ‘upgrading’ to a king. Their queen was infinitely better than the government-loaner twin beds they would have for the last week of their stay in Germany. At least the military thought of a loaner kit containing beds, dressers, tables, and nightstands. Service members were issued loaner kits before their personal belongings when reporting to new bases and after those items were packed and shipped at the end of a tour.

“On-base housing, or should we look for a place off-base?” she asked him.

“I’m fine with either,” Tom shrugged. “The on-base housing offers a bit more security. The off-base housing offers a bit more freedom.”

“A bit,” Sabrina agreed with both assessments. “The on-base might offer more floor space for the same amount.”

“We don’t pay for on-base housing,” Tom reminded her.

“Right!”

“I’m the sarcastic one, remember? Plus, on-base housing will be a moot point depending on what the housing office tells you the waiting period is.”

The Nellis Air Force Base housing office told Sabrina she’d wait eighteen months, minimum, for on-base CGO housing. CGO is a ‘company-grade officer,’ lieutenant through captain. She and Tom decided to buy a house near Nellis instead.

“Glad you’re a trust fund kid,” Tom muttered as they browsed house prices in the North Vegas area. Sabrina gave him a dirty look.

“How have you forgotten about the Base Housing Allowance already? For North Vegas we’re talking over twenty-four hundred a month at my rank and time in service!”

They made a list of viable candidates and began packing.

Friday, August 15th, was Sabrina’s last day in the 22nd Tactical Fighter Squadron. She stood in one final formation with her friends and received one more Air and Space Commendation Medal from Colonel Stark. It was over all too soon.

“Thanks for taking me under your wing when I arrived, Ma’am,” Zeke Bradley said while shaking Sabrina’s hand following the formation. Griff Hebert stood with him.

“Guys, when have I ever insisted on the ‘Ma’am’ thing when it’s just us?”

“If there’s anyone I’ve served with or under who deserves it, it’s you, Sabrina,” Griff said. ZeeBee nodded from behind Griff.

“You boys keep your noses to the grindstone. Don’t slack off now that there isn’t a fire-breathing thunder demon looking over your shoulders.”

Packing and cleaning their townhouse occupied Sabrina and Tom’s final weekend in West Germany. Housing inspected the property and retrieved the household loaner kit on Monday. Sabrina and Tom spent their final night at Spangdahlem in an Eifel House transient room. They flew Lufthansa first-class out of Frankfurt, trying to hold on to one last piece of Germany for as long as possible.

“Um, this doesn’t look like any Air Force temporary lodging facility I’ve ever seen,” Tom commented as he stepped out of the taxi two weeks later.

“It’s for officers with too much money.”

“I’d say so.”

From this angle, the fountain looked taller than the building. A bellman hustled up with a luggage cart before Tom could reach for a suitcase.

“I’ll take care of these for you, Sir,” the young man said, nearly pulling a bag from Tom’s hands. Sabrina cut in before her husband said something.

“Thank you, Jesus,” she said, reading the man’s name tag. “We’ll go check in.”

“Very good, Ma’am,” Jesus said with a nod.

“I could have gotten the bags,” Tom grumbled as Sabrina led him inside.

“Let him do his job, Tommy,” she admonished him. “And give him a good tip when we get to our room.”

“Good afternoon!” the young lady at the desk said to the couple as they approached. “Welcome to the Bellagio. Checking in?”

“Yes,” Sabrina confirmed. “Knox, four nights?” She handed over her driver’s license.

“Ah, yes, Mrs. Knox-Jones, I have your reservation here,” ‘Sherri’ confirmed. “If one of you would sign the form, please?”

In short order, two keycards were coded, placed in a small envelope, and slid across the counter. Sabrina signed the check-in form and returned it before picking up the keycards.

“You’re in room 26064. Jesus will escort you there. Have a pleasant stay here at the Bellagio.”

“Thank you, Sherri,” Sabrina smiled before leading her husband away. “You going to be okay? You look a bit stunned.”

“This place is a little over the top,” Tom replied as they walked to the lobby’s elevators.

“Well, it’s Vegas, so …” Sabrina pointed out.

Jesus received a healthy tip once he placed their luggage in the room. Tom and Sabrina held hands as they looked out their window.

“That fountain is even more impressive from this angle.”

“Wait until tonight when it’s all lit up,” Tom said. “It’ll be amazing.”

“How do you know what it’ll look like?”

“That remake of a 1960 Rat Pack movie they made two decades ago. They had plenty of shots of the fountain, especially near the end.”

“What are we doing for dinner?”

“The steakhouse?” Tom asked while holding up the list of restaurants in the hotel. Sabrina agreed.

Tom shaved, showered, and changed into a suit – something he wore infrequently – with an open-collared shirt. He sat down to wait for his wife. And it was worth the wait.

“Oh, wow, Sabrina …” he breathed when she stepped out of the bathroom. “Babe, you look absolutely fabulous!”

Sabrina wore something she rarely wore: the classic Little Black Dress. Her bob-cut raven locks shone atop her head. Her dress flowed down her trim but shapely body, ending three-quarters of the way down her thighs. The spaghetti straps highlighted her neck and toned arms. Three-inch heels did wonders for her legs.

Tom rose from the couch to kiss his wife on the cheek.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

“And I don’t deserve someone as caring, patient, and flexible as you, Tommy.” Sabrina kissed him on the lips, not caring what it did to her makeup. “Let’s go get something to eat. We’ve been on the move all day.”

The steakhouse was impressive. Tom and Sabrina secured a table on the terrace near the fountain. The restaurant sat at water level, and the view of the fountain was as magnificent as Tommy had hinted at.

Both tried not to swallow their tongues when they saw the prices listed on the menu.

“Glad you’re getting that aviation incentive pay!” Tom said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” Sabrina agreed. “I might bankrupt my trust fund if we stay here too long!”

In the end, they ordered their meal without too much worry.

“I have to admit, that was excellent.”

“That it was, Tommy. Sushi, onion soup, and Caesar salad will hold me till morning, especially with those portion sizes!”

“And require extra time in the fitness center for us both!” Tom didn’t work out as hard as his wife, but he did keep fit. “If you’ll excuse me, Babe, I’ll be right back.”

Tom rose from his chair and walked toward the men’s room. Sabrina watched the choreographed rhythm of the fountain for a few minutes before turning her attention back to the restaurant. Tom returned a moment later.

“Back to our room, Babe?” he asked after leaving a good tip. Their server was terrific.

“Let’s wander around the place a little,” Sabrina suggested. They did, ending up in front of a sports bar. “Let’s go in and see if the Red Sox are playing tonight.”

“And maybe have a nightcap?”

“Hoping to get lucky?”

“With you? Always!”

Sabrina scored a seat at the bar while Tom stood behind her. They watched the Red Sox play the Mariners in Seattle for two innings. Sabrina nursed her Dark & Stormy while Tom started a conversation with a Yankees fan, jokingly bemoaning their teams’ performances that year.

“Hey, little lady,” came a smooth, silky voice from Sabrina’s right. “Can we buy you a drink?”

Sabrina turned to find two self-assured young men checking her out. They had a hungry, predatory look to them. This would be fun.

“No, so sorry,” Sabrina said in an exaggerated Japanese accent while holding her unfinished drink. She gave them a big-eyed look. She also hid her left hand from them, the one with the engagement and wedding rings on it.

“Pretty blue eyes,” the dark-haired one said. “Contacts?”

“Yes,” Sabrina nodded. “Contact renses … lenses.” The playboys shared a look.

“Are you here alone, little lady?” the blond asked in a Texas accent.

“No, with someone.”

“Well, let us buy you a drink while you wait for him, darlin’.”

“Īe, kekkōdesu. No, thank you. I good.” She took a sip of the drink in her hand.

“Come on, baby,” the dark-haired one said, drawing closer. He wore the most charming smile on his face. “We’ll show you a good time … We’re pilots, so we know how to move.”

“Pie-rots? Passenger plane?”

“No, no, baby. Fighter pilots! We’re from the Air Force base just up the road. We’re aggressor pilots for others training at our base.” Dark Hair traced a finger up Sabrina’s forearm. “We thought we’d have a little fun this weekend.”

Sabrina was about to snap the finger off Dark Hair’s hand when Tom butted in.

“Rai? You ready to go?”

“Hai, Thomas-san!” To the pickup artists, Sabrina said, “Must go now!” She grabbed her clutch, rolled into Tommy’s arms, and left without a backward glance.

“Took you long enough, Tommy!”

“Sorry, Babe, but Vinny and I were sharing a laugh. We wanted to see how much you’d hurt those two.”

“Those two won’t feel it until I report to Nellis, depending on their unit.”

“What’s the over-under on them being in the 65th with you? I’d pay to see that!”

“I bet we’re in the 65th together. I’ll bring you the dark-haired one’s severed hand, by the way.”

“Works for me. Just don’t get it on any carpet the new house might have, okay?”

Sabrina and Tom relaxed at the Bellagio for the weekend, enjoying the opulent splendor. They didn’t encounter the fly-boys a second time. Monday morning, they began the search for a new place to live and got incredibly lucky.

“So, this first house is being offered as-is by the bank,” their realtor said as they walked inside.

“Short sale or foreclosure?” Tom asked.

“Foreclosure.”

Tom and Sabrina said nothing. They walked through the house with the realtor and then explored individually. Each had a small flashlight to inspect dark corners and look for signs of damage that wasn’t readily apparent. After an additional thirty minutes, they found their realtor camped in the kitchen.

“What’s the bank asking?” Sabrina asked.

“Three hundred fifty thousand.”

“How long’s it been on the market?” Tom followed up.

“Six months.”

“What kind of interest have they seen in this property?”

“Not much, from what I understand. The price has dropped seventy-five thousand in that time.”

“Give us another minute?” Sabrina asked.

“Of course.”

Tom and Sabrina walked outside.

“Could be a lot worse, Babe. Three bedrooms. A master, a guest room, and one for storage if we need it.”

“The kitchen needs help, and the carpet in the master bedroom needs replacing.”

“Yep, and some touch-ups on the paint here and there. Some of the window screens need replacing, too.”

“The garage has a good amount of space for storage, there’s off-street parking for guests in the driveway, and that backyard’s not bad for the area.”

“Three hundred thousand cash?”

“Sounds like a good starting point, along with a thirty-day closing.”

“Let’s do it.”

Sabrina and Tom outlined their terms to their realtor when they walked back inside.

“Offer the bank three hundred thousand cash, along with a thirty-day closing.”

The realtor raised his eyebrows and said, “They might just go for that. The bank has several properties on its books, and getting rid of even one would be good for them. I’ll make the offer and contact you when I hear back.”

Sabrina and Tom climbed back into their rental and cranked the a/c.

“When does my truck arrive?” Sabrina asked. “And our stuff?”

“Your truck? Later this week. Thursday, probably.” Tom pulled away from the curb. “Our belongings should be here next week or the week after. When are you reporting?”

“I still have another week before I have to report. We have a reservation at Nellis Inn if we need it. Head over to the base. We’ll talk to them and see if we can get in early, even if we have to change rooms.”

The bank jumped at the Jones’ offer. Sabrina and Tom would close on their first house the week before Halloween. With the Air Force’s PCS leave policy, Sabrina would get ten days’ leave to find housing and move in before starting her duties with the 65th Aggressor Squadron. The Joneses would take advantage of their temporary lodging at the Nellis Inn to have the house’s interior repainted, the issues in the kitchen fixed, and the master bedroom carpet replaced. They hoped to move into the house by mid-November.

Sabrina and Tom would need more furniture when they moved into the house. Their belongings from stays at Sheppard and Tyndall would be sufficient for the master bedroom, living and dining rooms, and kitchen. The guest room needed a bed, dresser, lamps, and nightstands.

Only part of their belongings had traveled with them to Germany. Their parents would coordinate the shipment of the remainder to Nevada but wouldn’t send the items until after the closing. If worst came to worst, they’d live in the guest room while contractors finished with the master.

Sabrina reported to the 65th Aggressors on September 29th. After reporting to the squadron commander, Lieutenant Colonel Nieves, Sabrina arrived at Delta Flight, the new F-22 section. There she ran into an old friend.

“I wondered how I got tapped to come here and play the bad guy.”

“The fact that you turn the Raptor into an extension of your body had nothing to do with it, I suppose? You’re the slickest F-22 pilot I’ve come across yet, Raikou!”

“I guess I should finally resign myself to my fate, huh, Sir?”

Major Jack ‘Tiger’ Bengali smiled at his deputy flight commander.

“It would make your life easier if you’d stop resisting the title of King of the Hill, Sabrina.” Tiger paused. “‘Queen of the Hill’ would be more appropriate in your case.” He stepped around the desk to shake hands. “Good to see you. And call me ‘Tiger’ or ‘Jack’ when we’re alone. Are you and Tom settled into your housing?”

“We’re at Nellis Inn until we close on a house ten minutes off-base and have some work done. We should move in by November 20th.”

“Good for you. So, an Air Medal and two commendation medals during your time in the 22nd? You’ll intimidate the newbies, which is fine with me.”

“How long have you been here, Tiger?”

“Three months.”

“What took you so long? I only got my orders to come here a month ago.”

“It took me a while to confirm you were still in Germany. There was some chatter about you going to TPS, but they couldn’t decide.”

“I’m going to keep applying, Jack. I might not be here very long.”

“You should keep applying, Sabrina! If there’s anyone who deserves a slot like that, it’s you. I’ll take whatever time I can get to work with you.”

“You’re the boss!”

“And it’s high time you recognize that, Captain!” Jack laughed. “Come on. Let’s go meet the rest of the squadron. Alpha Flight’s out terrorizing the Weapons School today, but everyone else is here.”

Sabrina tried to memorize everyone’s name, but she knew it would take a week or so before she remembered. She needed no time to remember the names of two first lieutenants in Bravo Flight. She stared at them with her piercing blue eyes. They stared back in disbelief.

“I hope you gentlemen enjoyed your time at the Bellagio because you won’t experience any enjoyment facing Delta Flight from here on out.” She held up her left hand. “By the way, I’m married. And if you touch me without my permission ever again, Lieutenant Davies, you’ll lose that hand. Do I make myself clear?” Davies nodded rapidly. “And you, Lieutenant Phillips. I’d better never see nor hear of you playing wingman on a similar operation, understand me? I doubt you’d like the result if I do.” Sabrina turned to her flight commander.

“Time to visit Charlie Flight, isn’t it, Sir?”