“Yes!” John whooped. After out flying and finally shooting down the two enemy fighters and forcing their pilots to eject, he deserved to be celebrating. The two fighters had come out of nowhere. The feeling of elation soon evaporated as he remembered why and how he got into this situation.

It was the year 2016 and the world was at war once again. John was a simple 21 year old who hailed from New England. But now he was a pilot in the Air Force, flying the FA 35B, and was armed to the teeth with missiles. He was part of a task force tasked with the destruction of the fleet blockading the Strait of Oman. He remembered how he got ended up in this situation as he rejoined his squad.

Two Years Earlier.

“In other news, protests have broken out all over the country in response to the reinstatement of the Draft. The President issued a statement saying ‘it is with a heavy heart that I have come to this decision, that more lives be sacrificed upon the alter of peace but it is a sacrifice that must be made to keep the world safe.’” John went to the fridge and returned with a fresh Dr. Pepper. Life had not been good. War broke out one year earlier forcing a return of the United States to the Middle East. The Public naturally was furious. John was a simple guy with dreams of joining NASA, going into space. But those dreams were put on hold from budget cuts to fund the war. And now here he was; going to MIT for Aerospace engineering to chase a dream that most likely wouldn’t happen. The world had become a cruel place. Then the mail came. And with that John found his way into the Air Force academy.

‘Present’ day

BEEP BEEP. “WARNING, MISSILE LOCK,” chirped the fighter’s onboard computer. John glanced at his counsel.

“Shit, SAMs,” John yelped. He activated his radio. “Um, Lincoln Actual, this is lightning I thought the SAMs were going to be neutralized by the time we got here,” John said.

“This is Lincoln Actual, our ground forces ran into heavy resistance on the way in, continue with the mission but be careful,” came the reply.

“Yeah, don’t need to tell me twice, lightning out,” John said as he and his squad rolled their jets. His formation has just emerged from the clouds allowing for visual locks. The scene before him was something out of a WWII movie. The fleet was emerging from the fog below and engaging the enemy warships in the strait. Missiles flew, on the ground the troops were just landing. Everything was off.

“MISSILE LOCK, MISSILE LOCK, MISSILE LOCK.”

“Shit, Shit, Shit,” John said. He looked to his right in time to see the missile collide with the rolling jet.
“Evasive maneuvers!” a yell came over the radio.

John rolled his jet. Though he hated the war he proved to be an excellent pilot. He threw his jet into a series of rolls and dives. The missiles were still coming hard. He looked around for the squad. Most still had their flares and were able to throw off the devices. The last engagement left his plane without flares and missing two missiles. The missiles were coming hard. They weren’t being thrown off.

“INCOMING,” said the computer.
“OH SHI-” John said as the world disappeared in a flash of light.

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