Riley and Venome Science Division took complete credit for the development.  Brandi starts to laugh under her breath.  So, Major General Jeremy Riley is nothing more than a thief.  Imagine that.

The transparent canopy swings open and Garcia climbs into the cockpit, motioning for Brandi to follow.  The Commander has been in many fighters before, F-22s, F/A-18s, but nothing she has experienced can compare with what she observes on the instrument panel of the High Priest of Holocaust.   “Modified F-14 Tomcat” is a glaring understatement.  It’s as if someone ripped out the best features of other fighters and somehow amalgamated it into what lies before her now.  A fighter pilot for many years, even Commander Schofield is unfamiliar with some of the controls.

“These O-ring coils on the intakes ionizes the incoming air to increase the controlled burn by six-hundred-fifty pounds per square inch of thrust.”  Garcia begins to point and triumphantly explain the systems.

“Thrust vectored engines and ACM cooled afterburners... the converted kind from the F-117E,” the Commander recites.  “We have those on our Venome Cobras.  Ours get seventy-five percent more burn then the original model.”

“We know,” Garcia smirks.

Schofield points around the instrument panel curiously.  “So, what’s this?”

“The charged coils are controlled by this active compensation gyro.  It maintains a constant airflow even during...”

“...above critical angle maneuvers.   Where the hell did Smith get this equipment from?  The closest anyone had to a stabilizer of that caliber was the Mig-31!”  Schofield exclaims, almost in shock.

“She built it,” Garcia responds simply.

“Bullshit!”

“Commander Schofield, the Lieutenant Colonel is not just a pilot. When she graduated from Air Force Academy, she had several degrees in the fields of Quantum Mechanics, Electromagnetics, Aerodynamics, and Chemical Engineering,” he explains.

“Damn!”

“She’s a genius.  Why do you think the Air Force commissioned her so quickly?”

“Because she won Top Gun three times?” Schofield shrugs.

Garcia grabs the Commander’s shoulder and pulls her closer, as if what he had to say, he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Commander Schofield, the Air Force commissioned the Lieutenant Colonel because she was supposed to build advanced fighters systems for them.  You see, the Air Force give the High Priest of Holocaust to Lieutenant Colonel Smith as a test; they gave her the opportunity to make any modifications she felt necessary.  You and I both know, at that time, F-14s were the laughing stock of the whole flight brigade, but the Lieutenant Colonel turned it into a ruthless killing machine and USAF wasn’t going to let her out of their sight.”

This is all beginning to make sense to Brandi.  USAF didn’t just hand out promotions like paper diplomas.  However, the military has rules, and to function in the capacity in which the Air Force wanted, Smith would have to have a high rank.  Even Venome has pulled off that maneuver on certain individuals.

Furthermore, if Debbi Smith can turn a worn out F-14 Tomcat into what now dominates that hangar, just imagine what can be done with the Venome Air Command.  Brandi’s devious mind is now fast at work.

“So, Debbi isn’t shit as a pilot without the High Priest of Holocaust?” she ponders.

“That remains to be seen.  It’s the only bird she’s ever flown,” Garcia states.  “Honestly, the Air Force flooded the media with reports of her flying to hide what she really does.  With the Resolution on the horizon, USAF needed a girl-next-door face to keep the public from siding with the EC.”

“Garcia, why are you telling me this?” Brandi wonders.  Everyone has something they want: an agenda.

With a sigh, he leans closer and whispers, “Though the Lieutenant Colonel is a genius, no woman is an island.”

The Commander knows exactly what his analogy represents, and furthermore, discovers an opportunity to keep Smith in check once she has taken over the Venome high command.

“Debbi doesn’t give any of you recognition for your part of the work.”  Brandi tries to sound empathetic.

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