Contact ground and have a safe flight.”

“Roger that clearance, Grissom AFB via direct Indy, direct Fort Wayne, then direct. So long.” The captain  switched frequencies then keyed the microphone again. “Grissom Ground Control, Voodoo Solo, ready for taxi.”

“Good morning Voodoo Solo, this is Grissom Ground Control. Taxi to runway 23 via Gulf, then Alpha. Hold short and contact the tower when ready.”

“23 via Gulf then Alpha. Hold short, tower at the end. Voodoo solo.”

The pilot bumped the power lever forward just enough to get the big jet rolling along the apron and performed his pre-flight checks as he taxied. When he approached the end of the runway he stopped short of the hold line then switched over to the tower frequency. “Grissom Tower, Voodoo Solo, holding short of runway 23 at Alpha, ready for departure.”

“Voodoo Solo, Grissom Tower, good morning, sir. Winds are one-eight-zero at one-four, gusting to two-three. Fly runway heading, climb and maintain three thousand feet. Cleared for take off.”

“Roger that, Grissom Tower. Any chance for an unrestricted climb to ten?” He knew the after-burners would eat through the fuel, but with both tanks filled to capacity he could afford a little fun, and there was nothing quite like pouring on the power and pointing the nose straight up.

“Voodoo Solo, disregard previous clearance, taxi into position and hold. I’ll check with departure. Repeat, position and hold.”

“Position and hold. Voodoo Solo.” The pilot positioned the jet along the centerline of the runway and ran the engine up to fifty percent power while waiting for the tower controller. The fuel flow held steady. He pushed the throttle to one hundred percent and felt the aircraft strain against its brakes, but the fuel flow looked fine. Maintenance might have been having trouble with the flow control units, but this one appeared to be operating just as it should. When the jet started to slide a bit against the power output the pilot backed the throttle down to twenty-five percent just as the radio chirped in his ear, distracting him from the fuel flow meter that waggled as the engine spooled down to idle.

“Voodoo Solo, Grissom Tower.”

“Voodoo Solo, go.”

“Voodoo Solo, Grissom Tower, winds are one-eight-zero at one-five now, still gusting to two-three. Fly runway heading, climb and maintain ten thousand feet. Cleared for take off. Enjoy.”

“Runway heading to ten, cleared to go. Voodoo Solo.” The captain pushed the power lever forward and held the brakes. When the engine reached full power he released the brakes and began his take off roll. Seconds later he was airborne. He raised the gear and leveled off at fifty feet. Once he had the proper speed, he pulled back on the stick and pointed the nose of his aircraft straight up. He was level at ten thousand feet before he reached the opposite end of the runway.

“Voodoo Solo, Grissom Tower. Nicely done, sir. Contact Departure and have a nice day.”

He clicked the microphone button twice in rapid succession as an acknowledgement, then switched to the assigned departure frequency. “Voodoo Tracker, this is Voodoo Solo, flight of one, with you level ten, requesting direct Indianapolis.”

“Voodoo Solo, this is Voodoo Tracker, good morning, Sir.