Sabrina
Copyright© 2026 by The Outsider
Chapter 36: Test Drives
26 December 2026 – Laguna Garden Avenue, North Las Vegas, Nevada
“Are you sure they have the right name on that announcement of students?”
“You’re asking for it, buddy!”
“You know I like it when we crank it up a bit, Sabrina!” Tommy waggled his eyebrows at his wife like he was Groucho Marx.
”’One of these days, Alice! One of these days...!’” Sabrina said, quoting Jackie Gleason in response.
“The rest of your squadron’s gonna be surprised when I tell them how big a softie you can be!”
Sabrina tackled her husband and tried to tickle him to death. It didn’t work.
“Well, that was disappointing...”
“Yeah, not one article of your clothing came off!” Tom sighed. “I’m losing my touch ... Maybe we can try my touch again later?”
”’ ... Pow! Right in the kisser!’”
“Is Tiger going to cry in relief or dismay over your departure?”
“I’m not reporting to Edwards until the end of June, Tommy ... Plus, the class roster was only announced Thursday! I’ve been off duty since then, so give him a few days.”
“Who reads stuff the Air Force publishes, anyway?”
“Um, Tiger does! Especially since he knows I apply every six months!”
“Well, I’ll make sure he has enough tissues to last until June then. That’s one hell of a present for you, though, huh? Starting TPS less than two days after your birthday?”
“‘ ... no later than 26 June... ‘ We’ll have to see if there’s anywhere to celebrate near Edwards because we need to be there before then, and that’s only two days after one of the best dates on the calendar.”
“The best one being the day we married...”
“Ooohhh, I see you’re swinging for the fence!”
“Gotta keep my girl happy!”
That line earned Tommy a series of long, deep kisses.
“And you do, Tommy,” Sabrina whispered.
“So, let’s see ... USAFA, ENJJPT at Sheppard, B-course at Tyndall, then Spangdahlem, Nellis, and soon, Edwards. How many more are coming?”
“Might not be too many more before I make it to Johnson Space Center. Once I pass TPS, I’d like a bit of time in test squadrons, but, you know...”
“‘It’s above my pay grade... ‘“ the couple said in unison.
“Test squadrons, where you’ll kick ass, as usual ... So, do you think Tiger already knows?”
“I’ll find out tomorrow if he doesn’t call crying tonight.”
“Have you cleared out your desk yet?”
“I don’t report to Edwards for another five months, Tiger. I’m gonna guess you’re not sad to see me go...?”
“And why would you think that, Captain?”
“Oh, gee ... I dunno, Sir ... Could be you rushing to lock the door behind me as I leave...”
“Sabrina, that’s hurtful!”
“Yet, also true.”
“Well ... maybe a little.”
“Seriously, Tiger, our flight is solid, right?”
“It is,” Bengali answered with confidence. “Now, you need to find me a solid deputy flight commander before you leave.”
“Too bad Hammer doesn’t fly Raptors,” Sabrina replied. “He’ll be a good choice for an F-35 flight someday. For Delta, for us, Tweed is ready.”
”’Tweed?’” Tiger asked upon hearing Fran Woolrich’s nickname. “Although I agree. He’s come a long way in the time he’s been here with you, helping him along. GTO’s improved, too. So has everyone you interact with.”
Tweed came to Nellis from Langley Air Force Base and the 94th Tactical Fighter Squadron last year with five years of service under his belt.
“Your leadership abilities must have rubbed off on me over the past fifteen months, Tiger.”
“Don’t make Tommy upset, Sabrina, by claiming I’ve rubbed myself on you. I like your husband! The Air Force will get upset with me, too. Like, ‘brought up on charges’ upset!”
“Holy shit ... your jokes are as bad as my father’s.”
“Jesus Christ, is this place HOT during the summer!” Sabrina griped as she climbed out of her truck.
“And Nellis wasn’t?” Tommy asked as he locked his. “We’re in the middle of a desert again, Babe.”
“Don’t remind me, Tommy.”
“We’re actually quite a bit southwest of Nellis, though at a slightly higher elevation. It’ll probably be cooler here...”
“You can stop, noooooowwwwww...” Sabrina sang.
“You think the folks in the office are ready to call Security Forces on us yet?”
“They’ll wait until I start smacking you around.”
“Fine. Go inside and report, so we can get our base IDs and check out the housing arrangements.”
Housing for Test Pilot School students was available on the base – reserved, actually – negating the need to buy or rent a house for just one year of training. TPS housing ran to the company-grade officer quality Sabrina and Tommy were used to: a small, condo-style home joined to a second home. TPS students with larger families might get a larger place, if available. Those families sometimes had to make do with the smaller floor plans, however.
“Well, we’ve finally seen this floor plan again,” Tommy said as they looked over their assigned duplex. “Where was that? Sheppard?”
“Yeah, that place off base...”
“When will our belongings arrive?”
“Tomorrow or the next day. Not bad timing, actually. It was nice of them to have the loaner stuff here before we arrived, too,” Sabrina replied as she waved at the generic furniture in their living room.
“Upset we’re not over on Thunderchief Court?”
“As an Air Force Academy graduate, I would have preferred Falcon Way! Still, I can’t complain about our location here on Sturmthal Street. The lots behind us are what passes for parks around here, and it even has lights on that path over there.”
“If it wasn’t for the scrub brush scattered around, it’d be almost like a beach view.”
“Well, that, and the lack of water. Not a beach without the water, just a hill.”
“What kind of drive are you looking at in the mornings?”
“About five minutes, probably. Unless I get stuck behind traffic near the coffee place, the gas station, a school bus, or a unit out running PT.”
“There aren’t any school buses or other public transportation on base...”
“So, it won’t be an issue then!”
“You’re too much...”
“You keep up well enough,” she purred as she molded herself to her husband.
“It’s all part of my exercise regimen. My favorite part.”
“It better be your favorite part!”
Tommy and Sabrina spent the rest of their week arranging furniture in their new ‘housing unit.’ New base, old routines. Like finding the important places – new restaurants.
“I can’t believe this place is only twenty minutes from the base!” Sabrina sounded amazed.
“And there are another four or five Mexican restaurants nearby, too.”
“And the Thai place. And that’s just here in Rosamond.”
“Then there’s Lancaster, Palmdale, Mojave, Tehachapi ... Plenty of places to explore.” Tommy looked at his wife. “You sound a bit surprised.”
“I guess I thought Edwards was stuck in the middle of nowhere.”
“That’d be Groom Lake.”
“Why are you jinxing me?”
“Any of the test flight squadrons will fly the bleeding edge. Don’t you think Groom would be the tip of the spear?”
“You’re kinda mixing your metaphors, Tommy.”
“I’m a civilian. Sue me.”
The following Monday, Sabrina gazed at the F-104 Starfighter perched on its pylon as she walked from the Test Pilot School parking lot to the building. The Starfighter aimed skyward in a high angle of attack from its post by Wolfe Ave and embodied Sabrina’s dreams. She imagined many of her fellow students felt the same way.
“It looks like it’s going Mach Two just sitting there, doesn’t it?” someone nearby asked.
Sabrina glanced over to see a man about her age. He wore a flight suit with captain’s bars as she did.
“Evan Porter,” he introduced himself and extended his hand.
“Sabrina Knox-Jones. Student?”
“Yep. You too?” Sabrina nodded in response. “Where’d you come from?”
“Nellis. 65th Aggressor Squadron, flying F-22A Raptors. You?”
“Eighteenth TFS at Elmendorf. F-16E Falcons.” Porter looked at their destination. “You ready for this?”
“If I’m not,” Sabrina answered with a shrug, “I majored in the wrong discipline.” Porter raised an eyebrow. “Astronautical Engineering. Followed that with an online Aerospace Engineering master’s while in Germany.”
“Shit, remind me to cheat off your tests.”
“I doubt they let you in here if you didn’t have a similar pedigree, Porter.”
“Evan.”
“Sabrina.”
“Don’t you mean ‘Raikou?’” Sabrina gave Evan a sidelong glance. “You have a bit of a reputation.”
“Parts of it are entirely undeserved.”
“Only ‘parts’ of it are undeserved?”
“Right. I earned the rest of that shit.”
Evan laughed as they entered their ‘schoolhouse.’
They and their classmates would spend slightly more than a year here unless they encountered problems. This course had the reputation of being ’GO!’ from Day One, and it was all on the students.
The instructors would present the information and expect those taking the course to put the information together, build teams, and formulate a plan. No shortcuts, but flexible, logical thinking. ‘No spoons, and no spoon feeding’ was the unofficial motto.
“Hey, I’m Harper Dominguez,” a classmate said from his seat in the next row ahead of them. People were still trickling in ten minutes before the start time.
“Sabrina Knox-Jones.”
Evan introduced himself, and everyone exchanged handshakes.
“Where were you before coming here?” he asked.
“Hickam flying Raptors.”
“The Gamecocks of the 19th TFS?” Sabrina asked.
“Yeah!” Dominguez replied. “Where you from?”
“Nellis, flying Raptors for the 65th Aggressors. Spangdahlem and the 22nd TFS before that.”
“‘Knox-Jones?’ ‘Spangdahlem?’ Evan, my boy, we’re in the presence of greatness!”
“Oh, Harper ... and here I thought I liked you? Don’t worry. Death will be as painless as I can make it. I’m a captain with seven years of service and a pair of shiny wings. That’s it, okay?”
“Don’t worry, Sabrina. That’ll be the last you hear of that kinda stuff from me. I’ve heard how little you like the notoriety.”
“Very little, Harper.”
“Hey, what are your callsigns?” Evan asked.
“Harpo,” was Harper’s answer.
“Raikou,” Sabrina replied.
“‘RAY coo?’”
“Raikou,” Sabrina repeated while writing it down. “Japanese thunder god.”
“Goddess, in your case,” Harpo said. “I guess Evan asked my question, Sabrina. Evan, what’s your callsign?”
“Bart.”
“Bart?”
“I’m from Springfield, Illinois,” the bristle-haired blond said, “and I have this haircut.”
“And you have two younger sisters named Lisa and Maggie?” Sabrina asked.
“No, Colleen’s my only sister. She’s the youngest in the family. And don’t tell my younger brother Lester he got renamed ‘Lisa,’ okay? He’s jealous enough of his hotshot pilot big brother.”
Another young woman sat down at Harper’s table, but she made sure she wasn’t next to him. She gave him a disdainful look before turning away. Harper smiled in amusement as he looked at his new friends. He turned, faced the front of the room when instructors showed up, and went to attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a colonel began once everyone sat down again, “welcome to the United States Air Force Test Pilot School. I’m Colonel Zachary Lang, the school’s commandant. Over the next fifty-five weeks, you will be pushed, stretched, and challenged by this staff like never before.
“Successful test flights require a team to plan, execute, and evaluate data from them. Our country needs successful flights for top-quality aircraft. What looks good on paper can fly like the south end of a northbound jackass. Your team will identify strengths and flaws in the new aircraft. You’ll all need to be on top of your game.
“Pilots, forget about the ‘Hair on Fire, Mach Infinity’ others said about TPS years ago. And forget about the unpredictable, win-the-dogfight mentality you’ve known until now. Precise, controlled, to-the-flight-plan flight is what we’re looking for. Navigators, we want the best routes for safely evaluating a prototype aircraft within defined test parameters. Engineers, almost all of the pilots and navigators here are also engineers. Don’t get caught in the ‘you wouldn’t understand’ mindset. Your classmates will know what you’re talking about.”
Sabrina, Evan, and Harpo looked over at Harpo’s tablemate ... she ignored them. The trio looked at each other and shook their heads. The colonel pointed to the table to his right.
“On the table, you’ll notice a large stack of books and other papers related to your time here. Starting from the back row, come get one of each.”
That took ten minutes for the class to get through. Sabrina was sure she heard the table sigh in relief once the weight of all that paper was gone. She was sure she heard classmates chuckle when someone slapped Harpo on the back of his head as the classmate walked to the table. Harpo introduced Evan and Sabrina to the classmate during their lunch break.
“Bart, Raikou, this is my buddy Mathias ‘Robin’ Hood.”
“‘Ma-TEE-iss?’” Evan asked when he heard Harpo’s pronunciation.
“Yeah,” Robin Hood confirmed. “Looks like ‘mah-THIGH-ess’ and is pronounced ‘mah-TEE-iss.’” He shrugged. “Family name.”
The others nodded, each knowing about those. The foursome introduced themselves to the others in their class during lunch. Except for that one woman, Johanna Salazar, who ignored everyone.
“How does she expect to get through this class without being part of the group?” the man from Sherwood Forest wondered quietly.
“Let me know when you figure that out, Mathias,” Harpo said quietly. “She very smaht, tho!”
“You need to work on that Boston accent, Harpo,” Sabrina said with a shake of her head. “I’ve got some friends who can tutor you if you’d like?”
“Dude, that was terrible!” Evan laughed. “Even I could tell, and I’m from Illinois!”
The first day of TPS was little more than meeting the instructors – more than one were bonafide PhDs – and learning the lay of the land. Students would barely have time to get their feet under them before forty-eight weeks of non-stop instruction began.
Performance, systems, and test project engineering were the initial subjects. Tommy brought Sabrina several cups of tea while she poured over classwork in their home office. She likened the load to her first year at USAFA where nothing less than perfection was accepted.
“I think my eyes will burn if I look at systems engineering again,” Harpo griped as he rubbed his eyes one morning.
“Just wait until we finish these classes and move on to the next group.”
“I know, Robin, but...”
“Better to make mistakes in here than out there,” Lachlan Johnston, their Aussie classmate, pointed out.
“Geez, Ness,” Harpo sighed, “you couldn’t come up with something original?”
“Oh, ‘original?’ Like Lach ‘Ness’ Johnston?” another classmate, Beckett Delaney, asked from his desk across the aisle. “C’mon, Harpo!”
“Hey, give a guy a break, would ya?”
“A break?” Sabrina laughed. “You’re expecting a break at this place? Exact and exacting this place is!”
“Ease up, Yoda,” classmate Franco Dean said from the row behind Sabrina.
”’Do or do not! There is no try!’” half the room yelled. The other half rolled their eyes.
Over the next two weeks, Sabrina continued to pore over math problems to figure out drag, lift, and other needed values in the initial classes.
“Knox! Puckett!” Major Connor Lawrence called. “You two come with me!”
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