Craig and Sergeant “Mikey” Williams, a Special Forces specialist, circled the drone, conducting their final inspection. Mounted with the latest Sentient IX, it now weighed over eighty kilos and resembled a spider on steroids. After coming this far, the last thing they needed was to accidently drop it and jack up the entire op.
Mikey, as he was called by his brothers, assisted Craig in finishing the last-minute adjustments and then walked back to the front of the vehicle. While Craig continued the preparations and inspection, he listened to the blasts of small weapons fire and frequent explosions detonating in the higher elevations around them. Craig felt secure knowing Mikey’s Delta Force pals were keeping them safe.
The sergeant walked over with a cup of steaming coffee in hand. “Major, this will pop your eyes open.”
“How the hell did you heat up coffee in this wasteland?”
“Sir, let’s just say we enjoy a cup of java before we kick some shit! Our way of making sure we’re bright-eyed before we say good morning!”
It was 10 p.m. Afghan time, but Craig got the joke. He felt calm as the bitter warmth of the dark liquid ran down his throat and brought his stomach back to life. Remembering he hadn’t eaten in eighteen hours, he turned to Mikey and said, “Thanks, but damn it, now I’m hungry.”
Putting the small cup on the hood of the 4Runner, Craig wound his hand back up into the core of the aircraft to reach a small power switch on the Sentient and then flipped it on. He purposefully waited until the very last minute to power up the cameras. He was concerned about the rate the high-powered cameras sucked energy from the batteries, which were already at borderline capacity in the energy-to-weight ratio. He needed every bit of juice it had to keep the Sentient gathering image data until the mission was complete.