“Sir, that SII does not apply to us,” she said timidly. She wasn’t sure why it was even on the wall. The current Air Force Reserve Command Special Interest Item reminded aircrew to ensure passengers and cargo were properly secured during flight through moderate turbulence- something a single seat F-16 pilot would not be concerned with.

“It’s a mandatory briefing item from higher headquarters,” he stated flatly. She wasn’t sure if he were just trying to make a point or trying to rattle her. He was definitely succeeding at the latter. She could feel sweat start to bead around her forehead.

“Yes, sir,” she said as she turned to read the framed paper behind her. “Aircrew are reminded that while flight into turbulent conditions is not desirable, aircraft commanders should ensure that load masters check integrity of cargo straps and verify that passengers are properly seated and lap belts tight during extended flight into turbulent conditions.”

Coach nodded smugly, “I have no further questions. I’ll see you at step.”

Moss didn’t move as Coach picked up his lineup card and glasses and then walked out. She was still rattled from his line of questioning. It was her first flight with him since he had taken over as Operations Group Commander for the 39th. She had only known him previously from what her fiancé, Cal Martin, had told her. He was a former F-16 pilot who had been grounded after an incident in Iraq. Cal blamed Coach for ruining his career, and Chloe was starting to see why. The man lived up to his reputation.

Moss gathered her briefing guides and lineup card and walked out of the briefing room. As she made her way through the long hallway of the fifteen thousand square foot vault, Major “Pounder” Van Pelt, the squadron’s Weapons Officer was waiting for her by the vault door.

“Heard you had a rough briefing,” he said with a snicker. Word seemed to travel faster than the supersonic F-16s in this place. She wasn’t surprised. Ever since the squadron had found out that she had picked up an active duty assignment to their reserve squadron, they had been out to get her. She was the first female pilot. Such blasphemy could not stand in their boys-only flying club. So they resisted, but they never expected her to push back. They never expected her former U.S. Representative mother to make a casual phone call to the three star at AFRC and politely suggest that a female fighter pilot blazing the trail for others was good for the military and Reserves in general. She had won the battle, but the war waged on.

As she stood there staring at Coach’s favorite Weapons Officer and golden boy, she wondered what exactly she had won. Her career growth had been stunted. She was upgrading to flight lead well after her active duty peers, and to make matters worse, they were nit-picking every little thing about her sorties and making her refly the rides. She resolved to not let their hate and jealousy get to her, but it was getting harder by the day. They never seemed to relent.