Maverick’s fist was beginning to hurt from banging on the door.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Goose asked, looking around. The metal building didn’t have any kind of identifying signage.
“I asked about berthing, and they said to try the building down at the end of the runway,” Maverick said, referring to a conversation with an Air Force person a few minutes previously. “This is the building on the end.”
Goose considered it. “I have a theory.”
Maverick paused. “What’s that?”
Goose gestured to the building next door, the base hospital. “‘Berthing’ is a Navy term for a place to sleep. What if the Air Force person you asked got it confused with ‘birthing’ and pointed you to the hospital, which is pretty close to the end of the runway?”
“A misunderstanding that would make someone think that two tired-looking Naval Aviators were looking for the maternity ward? Yeah, sounds like the Air Force.” Maverick resumed beating on the door in front of him.
Goose stared at him. “So...this probably isn’t a place to sleep at all.”
“I know.”
“So what makes you think that knocking is going to get anyone to let you in? It looks like a hangar. For airplanes to rest. Not people.”
Maverick sighed. “Because after the day we’ve had, rescuing some kids, fighting an alien airplane, meeting some more aliens, reviewing the tapes, going back to find our new friends but discovering that they’d left the beach and were nowhere to be found, and unsuccessfully searching for them, I’m ready to give up. If, in trying to find somewhere to sleep, we’ve suffered an error in translation between sailor speak and airman lingo, I really don’t care anymore. If we’re trying to break into a secure facility, then base security will pick us up and put us in a cell that should at the very least have a bed.”
Goose thought about it, shrugged, and started helping Maverick knock.
Meanwhile, in a stuffy pile of ponies and people stuffed up inside the bomb bay of the B-52 parked inside the hangar, Pinkie said, “Maybe we should answer the door.”
“We don’t know who that could be,” Rarity reminded her.
“At least it would get us out of this unseemly cramped compartment,” Rainbow muttered.
“It would be even more cramped if this thing was loaded with bombs,” Velma reminded her.
“I’m going to answer the door,” Daphne decided. “Only people who really care about you would knock that long and hard.”
“What do you know about long and hard?” Pinkie said with a giggle.
“That’s how she knows people really care about her,” Fred replied. He frowned. That wasn’t exactly how he meant to say it, although still not far from the truth. Fortunately, Daphne was already on her way to the door.
She wrenched it open, expecting the light from outside to be blinding but surprised to see that it seemed to be getting towards evening. More surprised still, she found herself greeting the two aircrew from the Navy jet.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” said Maverick. “Makes our job of finding you easier, too.”
“Is everyone else here?” Goose asked as Daphne let the two of them in.
“They are,” Daphne confirmed. Goose took a flashlight from his gear and clicked it on. The first thing the beam illuminated was the huge bomber sitting in the hangar. He swept the light around, checking out racks of tools and some scrap metal in the back.
The girls and the gang had departed the cramped confines of the bomb bay by the time Daphne, Maverick, and Goose made it over to the B-52.
Twilight, all business, asked, “Did you manage to find out anything interesting from your postmission analysis?”
Goose replied, “Based on the distance the jet was jumping, it seemed to be running out of power.”
Twilight nodded. “It only has a limited charge. It’ll either need some time or a fresh power source before it’s able to jump again. It’ll need quite a bit of juice to jump back to Equestria.”
“So if we can get its charge depleted, it won’t be able to escape?” Maverick said hopefully.
“That’s correct,” Twilight replied. Seeing his gleeful look, she added, “And no shooting it down! We need it!”
“But how are we going to capture it?” Goose asked. “I mean, if it can’t jump, then the Tomcat has more than enough speed to run it down, but how do we convince the pilot to land?”
Twilight was silent for a few seconds, but then her face lit up. “I’ve got it! We’ll use the magic of song!”
“The what now?” Velma asked.
“It’s basic magic-pony herd mentality. When somepony breaks into song, others around them feel compelled to join in, even if they don’t know the words. Sometimes, entire towns can get involved. We can use that to attract the pony in the plane.”
"Ah, the 'ol duet-with-evil!" Pinkie said.
Maverick looked skeptical, but asked, “So what do we do with him when he shows up?”
“We’ll have to convince him to land. If we play our cards right and sing well enough with a catchy song, he’ll be on the runway and still harmonizing before he realizes what happened.” Twilight frowned. “Which leaves the problem of how to get all of us airborne so we can get close enough.”
“Well, it’s convenient that we’re standing right next to a B-52,” Velma pointed out.
“Do you know how to fly this thing?” Fred asked.
“I do, but I can’t without my glasses,” she said. “Fortunately, it should only take me a little while to get everyone else trained.”
“So we need a catchy song to catch a pony, and also a training montage to learn how to fly a bomber,” Maverick summarized. He looked at Goose and the two of them nodded in an unspoken decision.
Maverick went over to an emergency phone on the wall and picked it up.
“Hello, operator? Get me Kenny Loggins.”