The Mission

“Calm down” the Captain tells us as we get ready in the back of the modified B2.

I put on my helmet and tighten the stripes holding the oxygen mask in place. The reflective black visor darkens the interior of the adapted cargo hold of the plane, which was dark enough to start with. Red lights turn on, only the color feels somewhat distorted through the glass. They indicate both that the cabin is depressurizing and that we are close to our target.

I don’t have all the details on our mission. And considering how crazy the ones I have are, I can only wonder what we are about to do.

I’m the best B2 pilot in the Air Force, which I guess is the reason I’ve been assigned to this job. I knew that flying a strategic bomber was a risky business, but I never imagined that I would find myself in a mission like this one.

“The babe is damn hot, when you look at her from 20,000 feet over the ground” Rick, my co-pilot says.

I cannot but agree, as I look through the cockpit’s reinforced glass as we start out descent. Lying in the Caribbean as if it were nothing more than a puddle, the voluptuous young woman is apparently taking some rays. She is completely naked, not leaving any doubt about the sheer perfection of her body as her chest rhythmically moves up and down in an image of calm that contrasts with the tens of millions of victims already in her wake and with the several cities that have ceased to exist just because she felt like it.

Her eyes open and for an instant I feel a shiver running down my spine as they seem to lock on mine through the glass. Then I force myself to calm down as I realize that the plane I’m flying, the pride of the Air Force, is inconsequential to her now.

Her eyes close again as she seems to focus only on enjoying the sun, trying to get her already tanned skin a tad darker. I look at Rick and we both nod. We realize that we won’t have another chance like this one. I guess this is the reason the top brass rushed this op as much as they could once they realized what the giga bimbo would be lying down for a while.

I increase the pace of our descent and start making the B2 arch, to get the right angle of attack. She barely moves, making things as easy as they can get with a creature like her.

One of the many complications with handling someone like Victoria O’Neal is that protocol and equipment are not valid anymore. It’s all about flying visual again. I get so low that the B2 is creating a trail of vapor in the water surface as I turn and face the giant woman. Then I realize that I got too low. I have to climb a couple thousand feet up to get aligned with my objective: her ear lobe.

What looked like slight movements from up above take a new dimension now that I got closer. It’s not going to be easy. But I also know that it won’t get easier than this. I have to take the risk and another nod from Rick tells me that I don’t need to explain it to him.

I push the switch that will initiate the decompression of the cargo hold and address my passengers through the radio for the first time:

“Hold on tight. It’s going to get bumpy”

Victoria O’Neal’s head is now covering my entire field of vision as I push the stick towards me for the last minute adjustment another small movement on her part forces me to do. For an instant I’m convinced that I’m going to crash against her ear lobe. Then, almost miraculously, the nose of the B2 manages to avoid the collision and I find myself flying into my objective: her ear hole.

After everything I’ve seen, I’m prepared for anything. Still, the fact that what should be a small and short conduct extends in front of me like a massive canyon manages to unsettle me a bit. I’m well trained, so I do what I know I need to do, no matter what. Pulling a lever, all the air brakes in the B2 activate at once, and I deploy a chute to help them as I bring the landing gear out.

The backlash is really noticeable. I hope that the guys in the back followed the predefined protocol. I carefully monitor the speedometer and start pulling the nose down the moment it moves below the predefined point. It takes me a second to realize what the tall and thick dark poles in the “ground” are before I catch myself widening my eyes when I understand that they are nothing more than hairs.

I’m hesitating whether the hairs will be an added threat or an unexpected help when the inner wall of the giant’s ear starts getting too close and I decide that I will need to find out the hard way.

I pull the B2 down and go ahead with the landing maneuver. The hairs are tough… but they are also flexible. I feel them breaking more of the plane than any pilot would like, but it was not as if we were going to take off again. In the end, they help, bringing the B2 to a halt earlier than I could have expected and respecting the integrity of the plane’s man body enough for no one to get seriously hurt. It’s still the bumpiest landing in my entire life.

The plane finally stops. I’m about to say something when I feel myself dropping. I panic for a second, but by the time the drop stops I’m still in one piece. I realize what has happened. The front landing gear has broken.

I turn to see Rick looking at me. I nod. Then I push the button that will give the Special Operations team in the back the green light for deployment.

The landing has been really bumpy. I’m thankful for the harness and for the warning. After a few seconds, though, everything seems calm. The red light turns into green and the Captain is up and out of his harness faster than I can see him. He is soon yelling orders at us.

I follow him without asking questions, because that’s what I’m supposed to do. The ramp of the cargo hold lowers and sooner than I know I’m standing in the middle of something that looks like a weird forest. The ground is pinkish and soft and the trees… the trees are the weirdest ones I’ve seen in my life.

Of course, I know I’m in the giant’s ear. I guess the top brass decided that they had to tell us at least that much. I cannot prevent but feeling impressed at what the pilot has achieved.

The captain gestures at us and I stop thinking and start obeying. A group of four of my comrades exits the cargo hold, bringing a large pelican box with them. I don’t know what’s inside. Only the captain does. Of course, I have my speculations. And so have my mates.

What else could it be than a tactical nuke? I know what it means: that I will not survive this mission. I strangely don’t feel bad about it. If anything, I find that it is an exceedingly clever thought from whoever has had it.

The group with the box reaches the spot the captain has indicated and we proceed to open it. I’m waiting to see the nuke. I want to sign on it, to write something in the lines of “Bye Bye Bitch”. My jaw drops when I see what’s actually inside.

“What the hell is this?” Rook says to my right.

It’s precisely what I was going to say.

There is no nuke.

“Captain?” someone else asks

I guess that the captain has realized that the hit in morale of the squad caused by the finding is pretty high. He reacts in the only way a captain would.

“I thought this was a Special Operations team in the United States Army. I don’t remember having been reassigned to the Boy Scouts”

We all look at him.

“Shut the fuck up and start obeying orders!” he yells

There is a moment of tension. Then someone gets a hold of the contents of the box, followed by a second team member. Sooner than we know, we are all working on the task at hand.

Rook, who is now back at work, is the one tasked with using the harpoons we brought to attach the cargo to the ground. I cannot understand how the giant woman cannot be affected or at least even feel what we are doing inside her ear, but there is no more reaction than the slight movements we have already become used to. We are totally aware that we are on top, or to be more precise, inside a living creature, even if this creature does not seem to be aware that a full detachment of Special Operations has just landed inside her riding a strategic bomber.

We keep working for a short while more, securing the cargo into position. I turn and I see that the pilots have stepped out of the plane. We all knew the B2 was not going to take off again, so this is just the confirmation.

The Captain looks at the pilot and both men nod to each other. Then, the captain opens a small door at the side of the device we’ve secured into the woman’s ear and pushes a button. A dim red light comes to life.

“Men, we have five minutes to get the fuck away from here”

We all start running, following the captain, trying to avoid the “trees” in our way. Now I know what the parachutes were for.