"All right, kids. We're descending."
Drake peered down through the window. He was sitting next to Sully, in the co-pilot's seat. The ground below him was tan and sandy. All he could see was the tiny runway a few miles ahead. Other than that and a few houses interspersed throughout the desert, there was nothing. How the hell would they find it?
Drake turned around and looked at Elena. "Remember that–"
"Don't remind me. That was one giant cluster–"
"Whoa, didn't realize our little girl became such a potty mouth, did we?" Sully joked.
Elena shook her head.
Sully laughed. "All right, seat belts on, folks. This isn't exactly the newest of airports. Things might get bumpy." He grinned. Drake couldn't understand why he was so calm.
"All right, steady now..." Sully muttered. Drake could see the white painted lines on the runway now. He turned to his right and saw some black jeeps and armed men. Soldiers. This was Israel, anyway.
"Whoa." Sully said, quite loudly. Everyone had felt a heavy jolt. "What the hell...?" Another jolt. Elena screamed.
"What's going on?" Drake asked, panicking.
"I dunno, I'm losing control!" Sully tried to pull the plane up sharply, but the engines were not responsive. Suddenly, all the lights in the cockpit went out. The roar of the engines dimmed.
"Shit, what's happening now?"
"Acre Center, two-two-three. This is two-two-three. Engine failure. We are now in a glide. Request permission for danger-close landing, over." Sully's voice was filled with a bad concoction of fear and panic.
"In your seats, now!" Sully screamed. "Brace for impact!" The silence of the plane as it slid downwards towards the flat runway was ominous.
Suddenly, the engines roared to life. Sully had closed his eyes, so Drake lurched across and forced the handle forward. The plane pulled up sharply.
Pit-pat. Pit-pat. Shoom. Shoom. "Look! They're shooting!" Elena screamed.
Drake looked down, and just ten feet below him, he saw the armed men he'd seen before in jeeps. Except this time, they were shooting. Bullets thrashed the side of the cockpit, piercing through electronics.
Sully screamed in bitter agony. A bullet had found it's way into his thigh.
"Hold on..." Drake muttered. The plane was going to crash into the air traffic control tower if he didn't do something fast. He thrust the handle to the right. The plane turned sideways, its right wing pointing directly towards the sky.
"Jesus CHRIST!" Elena shouted from the back. The cockpit door had whipped open, and a huge fire filled the cargo area.
Drake realized that this wasn't a mechanical failure. Their plane was being shot.
He found a green lever labeled "Controller Switch". He pulled it hard, and the manual control of the plane fell to the co-pilot seat.
The plane was flying in an awkward position. Its engines, on fire and about to burst, could not last for much longer.
Boom.
The shock scared Drake. He looked down at the dashboard and found that the left engine had blown.
Boom.
The right engine was gone, too.
"Drake, do something!" Elena called from behind.
If the plane continued to play sideways, then there wouldn't be enough vertical lift to keep it in the air. A little bit of wind could flop it over and send it down to the ground. Drake tried to turn the plane back to its normal position and glide it for a landing but it wasn't working.
Then an idea popped into his head.
He slammed the handle hard to the left. He was going to roll the plane over to get it stable again. The plane's gears and engines screeched loudly. The flames were closing in on the cockpit. He could hear Elena's desperate screams and crying. Sweat poured down his face. The holes in the shattered glass blew dusty wind into the cockpit, making visibility low.
His plan worked. The plane was flying upside down. It was awkward, but stable. All he needed to do was to roll it back over again...
Suddenly, a massive explosion tore through the right wing. Drake looked over and saw the entire wing collapse. The plane violently lurched out of its position and began to descend vehemently.
Elena and Sully screamed. Drake turned to his right and saw the black jeeps pursuing their plane. RPGs and bullets streamed from the weapons of the armed men. He could the smoke trails of the missiles just miss the plane.
The plane was uncontrollable. He saw a small town up ahead, and he tried to steer away from it, but the plane wasn't responding to its controls. All he could do was let go of the controls and see where his inferno-fireball landed.
The flames flapped loudly. The engines belched and squeezed and steamed. Elena and Sully's cries pierced through the surreal action-movie noise.
Drake gulped. He was helpless.