The Icarus Syndrome

by Lea

Hi! It's a *little* different than my other one. Let me know what you think.

5 June 1998
Las Vegas, Nevada

Jasper Jacks looked out over the flat Nevada desert. It never failed to amaze him that you could turn your back on Las Vegas and see nothing for miles and miles. At times he wondered if Las Vegas was a mirage in the desert. He wondered if he would ever get over the dichotomy of a thriving prosperous town sitting in the middle of the desert. This was going to be an interesting assignment, especially after coming from Goldsboro, North Carolina. He felt as if he had gone from Sodom and Gomorra to Mayberry and back again.

Jasper Jacks was a major in the United States Air Force. He had just pinned on his gold clusters before his transfer from Seymour Johnson AFB, a major F-16 base in the TAC (Tactical Air Command), to Nellis AFB. He was going to be an instructor at the prestigious Air Warfare Center flight school located there. It annoyed him when people referred to the school as "Top Gun." That was a Navy flight school, not Air Force. But ever since that damn movie with Tom Cruise, every thing was referred to as "Top Gun." The natural animosity between Air Force and Navy pilots only increased after the movie.

The Air Force Academy graduate had just completed his required six years of active duty service after graduation and decided to make a career of flying, much to the chagrin of the family. Major Jacks had made quite a name for himself in flight circles. He had been sent to Nellis AFB for advanced training upon graduation from Colorado Springs, a feat almost unheard of in the Air Force. He spent three years here immediately after training as a wingman for the elite precision flying team the Thunderbirds. Since then, he had excelled at flying the F-16 Fighting Falcon, one of the Air Force's premier fighter jets. He was also being included in an exclusive group testing the F-22, the Air Force's newest fighter. Major Jacks would be participating in Operation RED FLAG before he left Nellis, a combat simulation involving all necessary aircraft from all branches of the Armed Forces. An impressive career for an officer who hadn't even reached his thirtieth birthday yet and wouldn't for a couple of years.

The flying bug bit Jasper when his father John took him for his first flying lesson. He was sixteen and living in Alaska. He didn't like it one bit, having revolted against his family when they moved back there from Australia. His father, CEO and CFO of J&J Jacks of Alaska, thought flying would help young Jasper make the adjustment to their new home. He had taken to flying like a duck to water. He was so taken with flying that he decided to join the Air Force. His family wanted him to take over the reigns of the family's multi-million dollar international business with his older brother Jerry. Jasper stubbornly insisted on an Air Force career. He was succeeding brilliantly. They held out hope that Jasper would leave the service after his tour of duty was up and finally join the family business. They were severely disappointed when he re-signed. In spite of their disappointment, they were proud of their son's stellar accomplishments.

Jasper Jacks, or Jax as he preferred to be called, got back in his black Corvette and headed for the main gate of Nellis AFB. He was not due to officially report until 7 June 1998 by 0700 but he was going to check in to the Bachelor Officers Quarters this afternoon. He wanted to reacquaint himself with NAFB the area. He pulled up to the main gate, admiring the sign: HOME OF THE FIGHTER PILOTS. That's what this was all right. And Home of the single women wanting to marry them! Jax laughed at his joke. But a single officer, especially a fighter pilot, had to be very careful. Women swarmed around the bars surrounding the base like bees to honey. They used every trick in the book to snag an officer into marriage. Nothing was beneath most of the women who frequented the bars. Major Jacks had no intention of taking that plunge anytime soon. He was having too much fun to take himself out of the dating pool just yet. The MP (Military Police) on duty saluted him in to the base.

Jax checked in with the housing officer and was given the key to his room. He pulled up out front of the dormitory that would be his home for at least the next three months, if not six. His trunk was being delivered so all he had to take up to his new abode was two duffel bags. He turned the key in the lock and entered the room. It strangely felt like coming home. He spent his first three years as an honest to goodness Air Force officer and pilot in a room exactly like this one. But then again, he had spent the last three years at Seymour Johnson AFB in a room almost exactly like this too. That's the AF for you, he thought. If it ain't broke, don't fix it! He tossed his duffel bags on the bed, he would unpack later. He was meeting his sponsor for dinner at the Officer's Club and then they were heading to the local bar for drinks.

He grabbed his Thunderbirds baseball cap out of his car on his way to the Officer's Club. He put it on backwards, covering up all but a tiny peek of his blond locks. His aviator sunglasses hid his blue-green eyes. He had forgotten how intense the Nevada sun could be. He'd have to remember the sunscreen if he were going to be walking around in short sleeve shirts and shorts.

Standing under the awning at the entrance to the Club was Major Robert Hancock, Jax's sponsor. He watched Jax's approach with an interested eye. Jax walked with a very confident air. But then again, he had every right to swagger. He was probably the best fighter pilot in Air Force history.

"Major Jacks." Hancock saluted.

Jax returned the salute. "Major Hancock, I presume."

"Indeed. Please, after you." Major Hancock held the door for Jax.

Jax entered the room and glanced around. "You can count on the AF to keep things the same! This place hasn't been touched since the last time I was here!" He chuckled to himself.

The hostess seated the officers and took a drink order. The waiter came back with the beers and menus.

"I have to tell you, Jacks, that I have absolutely no idea why I was made your sponsor. You have more flight experience than any man on this base. Hell, than an entire squadron put together!"

"But you have the teaching experience I lack. Besides, you know the AF as well as I do. Protocol and tradition are important. To somebody!" Jax had an irreverent sense of humor. Jax took his hat and sunglasses off, running his fingers through his hair to get rid of any evidence of "hat head."

The waitress at the next station almost dropped her tray when she saw Jax for the first time without the additional apparel. He had to be the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her life. She had never seen a more perfect specimen of masculinity. A patron called to her for service but she was so absorbed in the treat in front of her that she didn't hear anything beyond the pounding of her heart in her ears. She finally returned to earth and back to her job.

"Geez, remind me to keep you away from my wife!" Major Hancock laughed. "Do you always have that effect on women?"

Jax nodded and rolled his eyes. Women were always attracted to him. But so far, they had been shallow or insincere, after him because of his looks or his job or his family's money.

Jax deflected attention from himself. "So tell me about that accent of yours, Hancock."

"Call me Rebel, everyone else does! I'm from the south, in case you hadn't guessed! This is my third term teaching here at Nellis. I've been in the AF for almost 10 years, probably make a career out of it, unless I get rif'd! But you know something about accents, don't you?"

"You can call me Jax, which is what my family calls me, or you can call me Phoenix, which is what everyone else calls me. I'm from Alaska, by way of Australia. Born in Alaska, raised in Australia, came back to go to high school in Alaska. I think the rest is common knowledge."

Rebel looked at Jax as the sudden realization dawned on him. "Jacks, Alaska. Your family is J&J Jacks of Alaska. Oh my gosh. You don't even need to work! You can do this for fun!"

Jax was growing annoyed. "I take my job very seriously. I resent any implication otherwise."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. It's just that, oh, never mind. Let it go. OK?"

Sometimes, Jax wished he could change his last name. "Sorry, didn't mean to snap. Bad habit, I guess. Tell me more about your family."

Dinner passed with companionable conversation. Rebel was very informative regarding teaching at the Air Warfare Center. Jax would be teaching classroom lessons, flying "bogies" in mock missions, and critiquing the student pilots' performances. Classes were from 0800 to 1500 Monday thru Friday. Jax liked the idea of having a "normal" time schedule for a few months.

"OK, Phoenix. What do you say we blow this clam bake and throw back a couple more brews at the back gate watering hole?" Rebel lifted his beer bottle as if to toast.

Jax smiled at the thought of returning to the bar. "Sounds good to me! Let's go!" Jax clinked his bottle against Rebel's. He put his hat and sunglasses back on as they headed for Rebel's car. Jax groaned as they approached the vehicle, a mini van. "Remind me again, Rebel. What is it that's so great about marriage that makes you want to be seen in public is THIS?" Jax thumped Rebel on the back as he walked around the car to wait for his locks to open.

"Some day, Phoenix, you're going to eat those words!"