Bye Bye Jet

[Something fun and a little random. – Editorial Note]

Jump in three.

I look at the team. They’re good. Really good. That’s why I jump last. My long-rifle has their backs as they land, roll, and dive forward.

I’m good too, with an 86% success rate as point-man. That’s not why they took me, though. 86% doesn’t belong in these teams. I’m here because I scored 100% on every survival and finish run. Hanging back, watching and waiting, striking at the perfect point.

86% as a point-man because I hang back too much. I don’t put my life on the line.

They shouldn’t hate me for that because I’ve saved everyone of them on almost every single strike since we came together. Somehow, they still manage.

Jump in two.

Guess what. I don’t care that they hate me.

I’m doing my job, the higher ups like me, and the money still roles in. For the next two minutes.

Bianca should be pulling our funds out, barely before I jump. She and the kids will be in transit as I soar down from a falling ball of fire.

Oh, that’s another reason I don’t care that the team hates me. I’m about to stab them in the back. My long-rifle won’t have their backs anymore, the explosive I have on me, for mopping up if they fail, won’t leave the jet—unless you consider “leaving it in pieces” as the same.

Jump in one.

“We trust him, so you’d better trust him too.”

That’s right. Trust the covert enemy, the one who collects info and sells it.

Ya been merced, higher ups.

I guess this is another reason I don’t mind that they hate me. The higher ups trusted me. They thought I was solid, didn’t listen to the team.

Maybe for that, I’ll let them live. “Bye bye jet,” but only “lost lost soldiers.” At least they’d have a chance. Like I said, they do well in the action. All of them have at least 90% on survival.

They’re jumping now.

We speak. They jump. We speak more. They jump more. It happens.

My turn.

My feet push off. My face is pummeled with wind. My fingers brush the side of the jet. An explosive remains behind.

They really shouldn’t let us have the big sticky ones.

Bye bye jet.

I dive and aim my escape.

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