3...2...1 | Teen Ink

3...2...1

May 21, 2018
By Nicolas-K SILVER, Tirana , Other
Nicolas-K SILVER, Tirana , Other
8 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
I'm so good at sleeping, I can do it with my eyes closed.


14:37


3...2...1. The MQ-1 military drone lifted off the runway at the Kandahar Airfield in southern Afghanistan with one objective: destroy the small village of Waza Khwa, home to one of the head Taliban members.


“ETA is 17:40, sir,” claimed Aaron.


  “Keep me updated,” requested the General.


“Yes, sir!”


15:46


The drone effortlessly whizzed over the Afghan landscape leaving only a high pitched buzz behind. It was mid February, known as one of the most beautiful times in Afghanistan. There was still a light coat of snow on the tops of the mountains, luscious green valleys, herds of fauna grazing the grounds by the rivers, locals trading goods, and best of all, serenity, a rare sight for patrols. This view, however, was nothing new for Aaron, a first lieutenant piloting the MQ-1 back in Nevada. Nonetheless, he had never had to fire a missile and it was safe to say that he was nowhere near excited.


17:34


The drone creeped toward the village and for Aaron, it was all going by too fast. He was not ready to drop the missile. What if they had the wrong village? What if he fired too early or too late? What if missile missed its target? No. Impossible. He had been training for this moment for months. He knew what he was doing, and nothing would go wrong. He knew he had to do it. He couldn’t back out now. He was locked in.


17:38


“Dropping in 3...2...1.” The missile sliced through the air, heading straight towards Waza Khwa making as much noise as a feather gliding down to earth. The room fell silent as they watched the missile in anticipation. It fell for what seemed like an eternity, leaving the people back at the control center on their toes. It inched towards the ground and just when they thought they had successfully completed their mission, the worst imaginable thing occurred. A child ran out. There was nothing anyone could do other than sit and watch in horror as the missile approached the point of impact. 3...2...1…


17:37


“Go and get water from the well, Bahiri,” said Aqela.


“Yes mama,” responded Bahiri.


He ran outside and to his surprise, heard a low pitched hum coming from the sky. He looked up and saw what looked like an American fighter jet patrolling the area, a rare sight where he lived. He stared at the aircraft in awe as it flew directly over his village. He had never seen anything as astonishing and was having a hard time taking his eyes off of it. When he was finally able to regain focus, he realized that he should share this wonderful experience with the rest of his family.


“Mama, come look! Look at this! It’s amazing!” he exclaimed.


Aqela rushed out and to her horror, saw a missile heading straight towards their village.


“Bahiri! Come home, now!” she cried.


Time slowed to a near stop, seconds before impact. 3… 2… “But why mama?” 1… “Just look...”


17:39


“Good job boys. Mission accomplished.”



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