“I
Just moments ago, she had been happy. The mission had been successful, and Hail had done what he said he could do. No messy loose ends. No political fallout. Everything had been peachy. And then the general had come over and told her something about a rogue pilot”. In her line of work, a “rogue” anything was bad news. The word rogue could even be used in place of a profanity. So, when the general had said, “rogue pilot” the president connected that with the fact that this person was flying one of the most destructive planes in the American arsenal. The situation didn’t sound positive; therefore, the president’s mood was not optimistic.
“He is a very good pilot. Loyal. Great combat record. He’s been decorated,” the general explained.
“What’s the problem?” the president asked. Her tone was abrasive, and the general suspected it was going to get worse after his next sentence.
“The pilot has not responded to our orders to return to base, and he is continuing to fly into North Korea.”
The president was dumbfounded. She didn’t even know how to respond.
The general filled in the silence. “I’m sure it’s just some sort of communications issue. Maybe the North Koreans are jamming our radio transmissions. I’m sure after the pilot has a look at the blown-up warehouse, he will put on the afterburners and return to the carrier.”
The president’s face looked pale. Moments ago, Joanna Weston had been flushed with pride. Now a wave of abject horror washed over her. She made a quick calculation of how many days she might have left in office if this mission got much worse. But the mission mess was out of her hands. It was now in the hands of a crazy rogue pilot—as was her career.
President Weston turned and watched the big screen as the warehouse continued to burn. Another bright spot flashed on the screen a little way away from the big bright spot. It may have been another explosion. Or possibly another communications issue.