Excerpt from The Last Pilot by Benjamin Johncock, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Sure thing, Jack, Yeager said. Jim an me stayin for another; Glennis be here in a bit.

Don't you kids go stayin out too late, now, Hoover said, rising. Murray and Cardenas laughed as they stood.

After they'd left, Yeager said, jeez, I'm beat.

Yeah, Harrison said.

Old man took me aside yesterday an said, Chuck, lot of scientists, engineers still of the opinion that, at the speed of sound, g-forces become infinite.

What'd you say?

What we said. That the buffeting may decrease and things get easier as you approach Mach one.

What he say to that?

He opened the door to his office, where a bunch of fellas were waitin on him, and yelled, no rudder, no elevator, buffeting severe at one speed, mild the next, nose-up at point eight-seven, nose-down at point nine-zero: that airplane is liable to go in any direction, or all of them at once, but Yeager, Harrison and Ridley anticipate no difficulty, no difficulty at all, in attaining Mach one on Tuesday.

He sounds pissed.

Couldn't tell what he was; he was smilin half the time.

I noticed that about him. Says take it easy one minute; next he's champing at the bit.

Hell, Boyd's a pilot through an through. If it was up to him, we'd have done it a week ago.

The men sat for a moment in silence.

Harrison saw the door open; it was Glennis. Over here, he said. Yeager looked around.

His wife approached the table. Hi, hon, Yeager said.

Where's Pancho? she said.

Out back, in one of her rages, Harrison said. Some cop pulled her for having misaligned headlights.

Yeager chuckled.

Says she's gonna take him to court.

There's a woman you want on your side, Glennis said, sitting down.

Not sure bout that, Yeager said.

Pass me some of that, would you? she said to him.

He pushed his bottle to her. She took a swig and looked at Harrison.

What happened? What the doctor say about Gracie? she said.

He leaned back in his chair.

Jim?

There's a problem, Harrison said. It's rare.

Goddamn. How rare?

Four, maybe five percent.

Five percent?

Maybe less.

Can they do anything?

Nope.

Why the hell not?

Doctors don't know much about it. Only gave it a name a decade ago.

How's Gracie?

She's okay.

I'll bet she's not.

Look, we knew it'd be something like this, Glen.

Might not be a surprise, Glennis said, but that don't mean it hurts any less bad.

Just one them things, Harrison said.

I'm gonna come over tomorrow, see her, she said.

You're gonna have plenty enough on your plate tomorrow, he said.

Might need the company myself.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, hon, Yeager said.

If I didn't think you could do it, hotshot, I wouldn't be letting you fly, she said.

You're my good luck charm, Glen; I'm gonna paint your name on the nose.

You can't do that, she said.

Hell I can't, it's my ass on the line. Jim, let's get in early; I'll bring some paint.

Sounds good, Harrison said.

Glamorous Glennis, Yeager said.

Glennis cracked a smile. Pancho appeared behind the bar and called them all miserable pudknockers.

You havin a goddamn séance or are you gonna drink something? she said.

Scotch, Harrison said.

That's more like it.

Pancho brought four drinks and they sat around the table and toasted the Glamorous Glennis.

Best be gettin home, Harrison said.

Be good to that wife of yours, Glennis said.

He nodded. Five-thirty? he said to Yeager.

Excerpted from The Last Pilot by Benjamin Johncock. Copyright © 2015 by Benjamin Johncock. Excerpted by permission of Picador. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.