The aircraft carrier
You fly to coordinates you know lead to a small English town with little militarized technology. The field you chose is eerily quiet, and is covered in a thick layer of fog, almost solid in its opaqueness. The town consists of maybe 90 buildings, you estimate, and is far from developed.
The jet sputters at the last moment, coughing up black smoke and hiccupping like a cat coughing up a hairball, the fuel gauge wobbling on E. The engine shutdown was timed perfectly, for you stamp on the airbrake pedal, which sends a jolt of pain up your injured leg, but slows down the plane enough to make the landing survivable, at least. You enter the dense layer of fog and feel a horrible jolt as you collide with the muddy, damp, and freshly plowed dirt. Brown sludge covers your cockpit window, but you are able to smash the eject button, popping the cockpit window off entirely. You use your last remaining strength to tumble out of the aircraft, which is completely caved in on the bottom where you landed with no gear. The pristine silver body sits crumpled on the farmland like paper mache and striped with mud and chunks of dirt. The smell of gasoline stings your nose, your vision spins, and you double over and cough, and cough, and keep coughing.
You look up to see townspeople running towards you, some with first aid kits in hand.
You are taken to a hospital, and later awarded a medal for your actions.
The jet sputters at the last moment, coughing up black smoke and hiccupping like a cat coughing up a hairball, the fuel gauge wobbling on E. The engine shutdown was timed perfectly, for you stamp on the airbrake pedal, which sends a jolt of pain up your injured leg, but slows down the plane enough to make the landing survivable, at least. You enter the dense layer of fog and feel a horrible jolt as you collide with the muddy, damp, and freshly plowed dirt. Brown sludge covers your cockpit window, but you are able to smash the eject button, popping the cockpit window off entirely. You use your last remaining strength to tumble out of the aircraft, which is completely caved in on the bottom where you landed with no gear. The pristine silver body sits crumpled on the farmland like paper mache and striped with mud and chunks of dirt. The smell of gasoline stings your nose, your vision spins, and you double over and cough, and cough, and keep coughing.
You look up to see townspeople running towards you, some with first aid kits in hand.
You are taken to a hospital, and later awarded a medal for your actions.
