Planes were wedged together with their wings folded up to squeeze the maximum out of every inch of precious space. Catapult 1 hurled a Prowler into the air. It was not a place for pilots to linger. “Have a good flight, Gracie.” “Thanks, Henry.” The plane boss had the jet ready to fly, and her preflight had found nothing amiss. Grace slid on the fire retardant flight gloves and tightened the flight suit wristbands, then grasped the handholds and swung her legs over and slid down to the seat of the F/A-18 Hornet. Leaning down, she removed the safety pins on the ejection seat and stored them away, then fastened the multiple-point safety harness. She secured the ankle restraints and tested them by pulling hard against the seat. If she had to eject, firing the explosive bolts would propel the seat from the plane. The last thing she wanted was two broken legs in the process. The ties between her and the plane increased as she plugged in communication and the oxygen necessary for high altitude flights.
