F-Bomb

65,000 AGL at night over a small third-world country that’s about to be chastened by the iron fist of America

“Bombardier to Captain, uh, we have a red light back here. Repeat, we have a red light; the board shows a malfunction.”

“This is the captain; can you clear the board?”

“Uh, negative. It looks like the release mechanism for the device is jammed.”

“Roger. I’ll contact control and ask for instructions.

“Ground Truth, Ground Truth, Ground Truth, this is flight foxtrot umbrella charlie tango, we are showing a red light on the board and are unable to clear. What are your instructions?”

“Flight foxtrot umbrella charlie tango, this is Ground Truth. We copy your red light. We’re going to require you to ditch your transport at the following coordinates: 14 degrees north; 64 degrees east. Avoid detection, and prepare for rendezvous with surface transport.”

“But that’s in the middle of nowhere, GroundTruth!”

“We can’t risk the device falling into the wrong hands, and we certainly can’t have an undetonated and potentially unstable F-bomb brought back to the base.

“Just do your job, pilot. These decisions are out of your pay grade.”

“Roger, GroundTruth. Captain to Bombardier.”

“Bombardier here; what’s the word?”

“We have to ditch in the middle of the fucking ocean, so put on your vest.”

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