— The target geometry required it. Higher altitude would have reduced accuracy. Lower was impossible due to terrain. Fifty feet was the mathematical solution.
— Most pilots would have found a different solution. Called for artillery support. Waited for better positioning. Requested backup.
He paused, his gray eyes studying her carefully.
— You didn’t hesitate. Why?
— Because SEALs were dying. Every second I spent finding a safer solution was a second they didn’t have. The math was simple—risk to one aircraft and two crew versus certain death for twelve operators. No contest.
Bradford nodded slowly, something like reverence in his expression.
— That’s the difference between competent pilots and legendary ones. Competent pilots follow procedures and make it home. Legendary pilots understand when procedures become irrelevant—when the mission requires something procedures can’t teach.
He stood, extended his weathered hand.
