The Flight | Teen Ink

The Flight

January 6, 2012
By taylor romriell BRONZE, Las Vegas, Nevada
taylor romriell BRONZE, Las Vegas, Nevada
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Jeff Kent was fresh from the academy. Trained in martial arts and combat, he drove to the San Ricardo Air Force Base in North Western Las Vegas, NV. He had just pulled up when, what he guessed to be, his commanding officer walked up to him and told him to go straight to his room and unpack. When he arrived he unpacked and suited up. For today he would demonstrate his skills that he had learned so that he could be put into a unit that best suited him. Jeff was looking forward to flying; it had been fun for him in college, why wouldn’t it be now?

SWOOSH! He flew right by them. “Okay kid, we’ve decided what unit we’re putting you in, now hurry up and get back down here,” shouted his commanding officer. He landed the plane and hoped against hope that he would get put into an elite unit. “We’re putting ya in the Shadow unit,” shouted his commanding officer. YES! He had made it. Now he would be able to fly with the ALL- NEW BT-22 Stealth Bomber. When he arrived at his room it was 4 pm. Flight practice was at 5 pm, and dinner was at 6 pm; that gave him an hour of rest.

When 5 came around he practically ran to the air field. The rest of the team was waiting for him when he arrived. He hopped into his plane and followed the rest. Soon they were past the base boundaries. “Where are we going,” Jeff asked Shadow Bomber and Transformer-1(SBT-1). “Bombing mission in Iraq,” said SBT-1. Perfect, thought Jeff sarcastically, my first assignment to bomb an unknown city with who knows what fortifications and face possible death. As they flew he began to worry about whether or not he would come back.

BOOM! About 20 pounds of bombs, dropped from his plane, exploded on the now communist city. The enemy turrets that had seemed inactive upon arrival began launching their heavy rounds at him and his team mates, they had been so close to getting out when one round from one of the turrets impacted upon his plane. Checking his monitor it had been a plasma round and it was currently eating away at his plane. Telling the others he knew the way back he fled to a nearby mountain where it was snowing. The cold stopped the plasma from expanding.

He knew there was an air strip on the mountain somewhere and he had found it and landed just as the cockpit went from black to red. He grabbed all his gear and fled to the nearby cave that was surprisingly warm. When he was sure and he had gone back out to the plane to make sure, checked the plane was cool he drove it into the cave. Hoping upon hope he could fix it. His plan was to fix the plane, fly back, and then explain why he had gone missing. He would have to start by removing the plasma which would be simple considering the plane could do that it self when it was cool.







































It had been days since he made contact with another living being. The plane had long since been fixed. However there had been a blizzard so he could not leave. But now it was sunny so with a great WHOOSH he was off. It was the perfect day for flight. Then his alarms went off yet he had not been hit. Checking his radar three enemy alien ships were approaching. They had been following him for an hour. When they finally left he could just see the outskirts of the city. Or so he thought.
One day later he ran out of fuel and crashed in what his plane had told him was south eastern Idaho (planes were faster nowadays then they were in 2012). He now wished he’d filled up on gas, but unfortunately he had not and was lost in a forest of streets and buildings. A sign told him he was in Chubbuck, Idaho. The city, it seemed, was currently abandoned. He finally arrived at a two story house, after several hours of flight. The house had 4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a basement. He was tired, as he should be, it was midnight. He would find a place to restalk on fuel tomorrow. When morning arrived however he was strapped to a table inside the house.
The strange aliens looked down at him. One pointed a laser at him but the other said something in a, what was clear, alien language and the laser was put down. “I-I-I’m trying to get back to my base, so if you would please release me I think I’ll be on my-“the alien stopped him, seeming to understand him, released him, refueled his ship, and sent him on his way. He knew that they knew he meant no harm. As many did mean harm, because they were referred to “infections” or “abominations.” “Whew thought I was dead there for a second,” thought Jeff. He had almost reached Nevada when three alien ships began to approach; it was common when one went up north that he would see an alien.
The BT-22 Stealth Bomber immediately transformed, sensing a threat, into the F-35. With F-35 he was virtually invisible. He turned his thruster all the way up. He shot forward. Within seconds he was a mile ahead of them. He kept his thrust all the way up until he could no longer see them. After they where gone he turned it down and put it on auto-pilot. Finally at 5:45 pm he saw the, now reinforced with tons of battlements, San Ricardo Air Force Base in Las Vegas, NV. The plane immediately transformed into the BT-22 Stealth Bomber. He had only just landed when his team along with most of his superior officers asked where he’d been the last couple weeks. Hoping they would believe him, he began to retell his thrilling account where he’d been the past few months.


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