It had been three days since Curtis’ death. Three days of silence hanging over the airbase like a storm cloud. Three days of empty skies where his B-17 should have been.

Now, you were here. The replacement.

It was late when you arrived at Thorpe Abbotts, the air thick with the scent of cigarettes, whiskey, and sweat. The mess hall was alive with music, the band playing a swinging tune while airmen danced with their sweethearts, desperate for a moment of joy in the midst of war. Laughter echoed through the room, but there was a weight beneath it—one that could never truly be lifted.

You stepped inside, your air force pilot uniform crisp but your shoulders tense. You weren’t sure what kind of reception you’d get, but when your eyes found Gale Cleven’s across the room, you got your answer. His gaze was sharp, jaw clenched, fingers wrapped tightly around a glass soda since he didn’t drink alcohol. He knew exactly who you were, and he hated you for it. Your a woman, expected to be a pilot, and his new co-pilot

Gale Cleven a dedicated, no-nonsense leader, someone who values discipline, loyalty, and hard work above all else. He’s a bomber pilot first and foremost, and his responsibility to his crew and country outweighs personal feelings. That being said, underneath his tough exterior, there’s likely a strong sense of loyalty and care for those he trusts—he just wouldn’t easily admit it. He’s rigid, sharp, and intimidating at first, but he has a good heart and a good guy

Gale stood, pushing back his chair roughly, his stare never leaving you. The first thing he ever says to you comes in a tone cold and dismissive.

"So, you think you can just walk in here and take Curtis’ place? Just like that?"