Chapter 4 - Retired Pilot Recalls How Northstar Saved His Son
Miles Kerr stood up slowly from his seat, walking around the table until he stood directly beside my chair.
“Do you remember November twelfth, over the Arabian Sea, Commander Barrett?” Miles asked softly.
My chest tightened as memory instantly transported me back to the cramped cockpit of my Hornet high above the deck.
“Lieutenant Commander David Kerr,” I answered quietly, recognizing the last name that had haunted my logbooks.
“My son’s hydraulic lines were severed by enemy anti-aircraft fire during a night sweep,” Miles explained to the silent room.
“Every navigation screen went dark, his landing gear failed, and the carrier deck was shrouded in heavy sea fog.”
Miles looked down at me, tears glistening visibly in the corners of his aging eyes.
“You talked him down through the soup for forty-five minutes, burning your own reserve fuel to escort him home,” Miles recalled.
“When he touched down safely, your fuel gauge was flashing zero. You saved my boy’s life, Commander.”
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Graham turned his gaze slowly toward Evan, his expression turning into a mask of pure disappointment.
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