Tactical Nosedive ||
“Okay... okay, on a scale of one to --hng-- one to five, that rates as off the scale in stupidity.” Bucky gently cursed to himself from where he was currently hanging, suspended, upside down from what remained of half of the place. Ten minutes ago the stealth jet had been skimming along restricted airspace, Bucky had been going across the plan with the few men that had been brought along on the mission despite how he preferred to work alone; and then it had happened.
An explosion from inside the plane had ripped the jet apart and sent the two pieces spinning out of control and down into the jungle below. Bucky hadn’t had time to react other than slamming his body into the flight controls and attempting to send out a distress signal while aiming for what he thought were tree’s that would lessen his impact on the ground.
In truth it had. The tree’s had been far too tall however and his section of the jet was lodged within the branches, with wires from the control panel tight around his leg and the only thing keeping him away from the 30 foot drop below him. So many questions, some were still trickling through his mind as his head fought to recover from the slam against the control panel and the few minutes of unconsciousness it granted him. Dangling, somewhat helpless, Bucky sighed and turned his gaze back up to the wreckage. He’d have to locate the rest of his team... find out what the fuck happened and hope to god the distress call made it out.
