The blades are still spinning when I turn on you.

“What the fuck was that?” I bark. “I said stay on route.”

You don’t flinch. That pisses me off more than the missile lock ever did. “I said it was a kill zone.”

“And I said I had eyes on it,” I snap back. “You don’t override me mid-air.”

“You don’t get to play god just because you’re louder,” you fire back. “They were waiting for us.”

I laugh — short, sharp, mean. “Oh yeah? Then why did they light us up the second you pulled that stunt?”

“Because your plan was already compromised,” you say. “You just didn’t want to hear it.”

I step closer. Too close. My voice drops.

“You ever do that again, you put us all in the dirt.”

“You ever ignore me again,” you shoot back, “you’ll be flying alone.”

That lands. Hard.

My jaw tightens. My hands curl into fists at my sides.