Hojo J. (John Wick's father)

It takes thirty minutes to load live missiles onto an F-16 fighter jet. On the morning of September 11, 2001, America did not have thirty minutes. After the Twin Towers and the Pentagon were hit, a fourth hijacked airliner, United Flight 93, turned and raced toward Washington, D.C. at five hundred miles per hour. At Andrews Air Force Base, Colonel Marc Sasseville and twenty-six-year-old First Lieutenant Heather Penney sprinted out to two F-16 jets that had just returned from training. Their wings had zero missiles. Their guns had only dummy practice rounds. They knew there was only one way to stop that plane from hitting the Capitol. They were going to use their own bodies and their own aircraft as the weapon. As they ran up the boarding ladders without even finishing their pre-flight checks, Colonel Sasseville looked across at twenty-six-year-old Heather Penney. "I'm going to go for the cockpit," he told her. She did not blink. She did not hesitate for half a second. "I'll take the tail," she answered. Think about that courage. A twenty-six-year-old woman strapped herself into an unarmed jet, pushed the throttle to full afterburner, and roared into a clear blue sky praying only that she would not miss the tail of the airliner when she rammed it at supersonic speed. Yet she and Colonel Sasseville never had to crash their planes that morning. Why? Because forty ordinary American citizens sitting in the back of Flight 93 had already taken a vote in the aisle, whispered one last prayer to their families over the airphones, and charged the cockpit doors behind Todd Beamer's two immortal words: "Let's roll." Those forty unarmed citizens on Flight 93 did not just save the United States Capitol. They saved the lives of the two fighter pilots flying out to die for them. A nation where pilots fly into the sky with no weapons and citizens charge the cockpit with bare hands can never be conquered.

If someone asks you how much a single family's life is worth to the United States Navy, tell them the exact price: ten million dollars of steel. On April 29, 1975, as Saigon fell, a tiny two-seat wooden-and-fabric Cessna plane with almost no fuel left circled desperately above the American aircraft carrier USS Midway. Inside that tiny cockpit, a father named Major Buang-Ly had crammed his wife and five small children, including a baby. He scribbled a note on a map, wrapped it around his pistol so it would not blow into the ocean, and dropped it onto the carrier deck. A young American sailor picked up the crumpled paper and ran it up to Captain Lawrence Chambers. The note read: "Can you move these helicopter to the other side, I can land on your runway, I can fly 1 hour more. Please rescue me. Major Buang, Wife and 5 child." The flight deck of the USS Midway was completely jammed from bow to stern with military helicopters. A Cessna has no tailhook to catch carrier wires, and its pilot had never landed on a ship in his life. By every military regulation, Captain Chambers had been in command for only five weeks. Throwing millions of dollars of U.S. government aircraft into the sea without permission from Washington could end his career in a court-martial. Chambers looked up at the tiny plane circling in the wind with five children inside. He did not call an accountant in Washington. "Clear the deck," the captain ordered. Hundreds of young American sailors in yellow and green jerseys ran to the edge of the ship, put their shoulders against massive Huey helicopters, and shoved ten million dollars worth of machinery straight off the cliff into the South China Sea. Captain Chambers turned the giant carrier into the wind at twenty-five knots. The tiny Cessna came down, bounced once on the steel runway, and rolled to a safe stop with feet to spare. When the cockpit door opened and five small children stepped out onto the deck, three thousand American sailors roared so loud it drowned out the engines, and immediately passed around a hat to collect cash for the family's new life in America. When the math says a child's life is too expensive, an American throws the math into the ocean.