Tweet
Michael Daniels (Yes, I am stealing cbraund’s last name for all his characters 
) first spotted the Zulu coast in his Harrier jet. It was going to be a hard flight. His fellow pilots and he had been told to go to any measures to stop the missiles. The missile defense could get four or five missiles, but if more than that were launched, it would be possible that one would hit. There were over forty missiles at this complex. This was going to be a hard flight, he thought again.
The jets screamed towards the base, evading anti-aircraft fire. Then they went over the last hill. There they saw the ICBM bunker. They began to circle the base, waiting for their fate.
The bunker began to open up. The first of the ICBMs began to take off. The bombs sailed down from many of the planes. Michael circled back around to get the next batch. It looked like there would be three batches. The next set came, and the bombs sailed. But one that had launched slightly earlier had made it out of the base. Michael’s plane hurtled towards it. It was already gaining altitude. He had to catch up to it. 20,000 feet. He was closing the gap. 30,000. 40,000. 50,000. He wasn’t quite in range, but he had to get it before it went too high for him to follow. He armed all his sidewinders, and fired them off, praying. That was when the AA gun hit him. His plane was losing control. He felt, above him, the ICBM exploding. He saw, below him, the last batch of missiles being hit. Everyone used their last bombs to make sure none of the missiles left the atmosphere.
He was hit again. He was hurtling down, plane on fire. The cabin pressure had gone way down. His windshield was cracked. But he could still see clearly that the ground opened up to reveal a hidden, fourth batch of missiles that was now taking off. Nobody had any bombs left. He could barely control his plane as it went down. But he pushed hard on the throttle, desperately swerving his plane into the hidden silo at Mach2.
The End
) first spotted the Zulu coast in his Harrier jet. It was going to be a hard flight. His fellow pilots and he had been told to go to any measures to stop the missiles. The missile defense could get four or five missiles, but if more than that were launched, it would be possible that one would hit. There were over forty missiles at this complex. This was going to be a hard flight, he thought again.The jets screamed towards the base, evading anti-aircraft fire. Then they went over the last hill. There they saw the ICBM bunker. They began to circle the base, waiting for their fate.
The bunker began to open up. The first of the ICBMs began to take off. The bombs sailed down from many of the planes. Michael circled back around to get the next batch. It looked like there would be three batches. The next set came, and the bombs sailed. But one that had launched slightly earlier had made it out of the base. Michael’s plane hurtled towards it. It was already gaining altitude. He had to catch up to it. 20,000 feet. He was closing the gap. 30,000. 40,000. 50,000. He wasn’t quite in range, but he had to get it before it went too high for him to follow. He armed all his sidewinders, and fired them off, praying. That was when the AA gun hit him. His plane was losing control. He felt, above him, the ICBM exploding. He saw, below him, the last batch of missiles being hit. Everyone used their last bombs to make sure none of the missiles left the atmosphere.
He was hit again. He was hurtling down, plane on fire. The cabin pressure had gone way down. His windshield was cracked. But he could still see clearly that the ground opened up to reveal a hidden, fourth batch of missiles that was now taking off. Nobody had any bombs left. He could barely control his plane as it went down. But he pushed hard on the throttle, desperately swerving his plane into the hidden silo at Mach2.
The End
Comment