Operation Trojan Horse

I was staring at my watch, watching the second hand slowly inch closer and closer to the 12, and the minute hand move by one turn slowly. My foot tapped rapidly and rhythmically against the hard and sandy floor. Weeks of frustration had led to this moment.

By definition, a criminal is an optimist. This didn't go well with my pragmaticism. A part of me believed and wanted this to work while the other part of me kept thinking about ways this could fail.

Weeks of intellectual struggles led to this one moment. The first make-or-break moment of this ordeal.

"Five minutes out!" I declared as I looked up at our little team. We were out in the desert. The sun was searing our skin. We had been wearing long-sleeved clothes so the sun just made it even hotter.

When I turned to my side, I saw Sasha begin to approach Michael, who was right next to me. Her face was puffy and writ with concern. She tried to look stoic, yet completely failed as she approached Michael and me.

"Oh great god smite the evil witch!" I exclaimed as I rolled my eyes. They'd been all lovey-dovey with each other ever since she heard that we were planning an operation.

I watched as she came next to Michael and grabbed onto his hand. His hand was turning red from the right grip that she maintained. She whispered some words in his ears before turning over to look at me.

"What is your problem?" She asked while glaring at me.

"I'm just a hater," I said simply.

"No, you're not just a hater," She began. "Every time I'm with him, it looks like you are irritated and annoyed. Eye rolls, heavy sighs, irritability. Now since we've never met before, I can only assume that you hate this relationship."

"Aren't you an observant one?" I patronizingly said. "And tell me, do you always look at me when you're around him? I mean, how else do you notice all this about me."

"And are you going to answer my question or keep deflecting?" She asked defensively.

As I opened my mouth, Michael spoke up in an attempt to end this conversation. "We don't have time for this. Sasha, he's just a skeptic of love."

I saw her eyes quickly blink and her head moved back a bit. She wasn't expecting that. "A skeptic of love?" She questioned.

I sighed. Every time I explained my viewpoint to someone, they looked at me like I was crazy. "Love is just your body's sick urge to reproduce. When that urge is finally fulfilled, the high of it all is gone. Nothing but arguments, fights, and lies remain with you are the only reason your parents are together."

"And couples that are happily married for decades? That don't have kids?"

"People that say they're happily married are liars. People who don't have kids are outliers."

"So you're just excusing anything that goes against your belief?" She asked with a slight laugh. "I didn't expect that from you."

"No, also based on data. Statistically, people without kids live stabler and happier lives but divorce more. Something tells me the two are correlated," I responded. "Not only that, but parents are happiest when their kid moves out."

"People do crazy things for love," She said. "There's probably a reason for that. Troy started a whole war just to get Helen back. That's how much he loved him."

"Uhhh," I said while wincing my eyes. "You are aware that he lost the war and his family got arrested right?"

"Which just makes my point for me. He was fighting a long and arduous battle just to get her back."

"As much as I would love to hear you two chit-chat about philosophy, we have one minute before everything starts," Michael interrupted while physically separating the two of us.

"Osti de crisse de tabarnak," I said quickly to get the last word in. Sasha opened her mouth in both shock and outrage that I would say something like that to her.

"What did you say?" Michael asked.

"Don't worry about it," I said nonchalantly. "I'm just practicing my French."

"One minute out!" He said to change the topic quickly. I didn't keep it going and simply stared at my watch as the second hand slowly inched toward the 12 once again.

Once it did, I felt my hands shaking from anticipation. Cutting through the silence of waiting were the sound of two jets and a walkie-talkie.

"Communication blackout has commenced."

-----

"We'll get in through their airspace," I said before turning to the whiteboard.

"Their borders will be heavily defended," Michael said, contributing to the lecture. "They'll attack and shoot down any foreign aircraft entering their airspace."

"So, what do we do?" I asked before turning to face them.

Everyone thought for a while. I saw them look at the table while their minds raced with ideas. It was Hanson who finally spoke up.

"You said any foreign aircraft," He began. "So we use their aircraft?"

"Yes," I proudly said. "We'll have to make them think that we're on their side, however, that leads us to the issue of identification. They won't know who we are."

"And you have a way to trick them?" Andres asked. My smile seemed to reach from ear to ear as I nodded.

I began to write down some information on the whiteboard. "They routinely send spy planes to monitor strategic locations like military bases."

I moved away from the whiteboard so they could see what I wrote down. It was a flight plan of two planes as well as information on the crew.

"In one and a half weeks, there'll be two jets flying over around 20 minutes east from here. This gives us a unique opportunity to intercept those jets and pose as them. Now, what are potential problems?"

I faced Leo, who hadn't been talking this whole time. "Uh, we could fail?"

"Be more creative than that," I said somewhat disappointedly. "A squadron of the best pilots will be on site so failure's low. What else?"

Another wave of silence followed. Socrates was really clever in his idea. I saw the wheels of their heads turning as they began to learn a new way of thinking. Critical thinking about unconventional problems.

This is something that can only be acquired by doing, by experience. My role, as the teacher, was to serve as a guide.

It was the shopkeeper who spoke up. "They could communicate that they're being attacked."

"That's what I was getting at!" I said. "As soon as they see our jets, they'll communicate back to their commander that they're being attacked. So we have to prevent that."

"And we stop communication by taking an extremely drastic move that they'll never expect," I said as I began to write the words on the whiteboard above all the steps.

"A communication blackout," I declared as I finished writing it. "Zero communications in and out of the country."

"Won't that affect the people?" Andres asked. "And didn't you tell me that the planes work like the walkie-talkie?"

"It's a necessary sacrifice," I said. "And to address your concern, most planes do, but the spy planes they use are different."

"The walkie-talkies I made use something called short-wave. They essentially bounce up and down from the sky to reach their location. Works great for small things like sound, but images have more information and thus need to transmit more. They do this by using newer technology, one that relies on the system that consumers use."

They didn't know what cell towers were so I tried my best to simplify it for them.

"So, by cutting all communications, we can stop the spy planes from talking with the rest of the world," I summarized. "That's pretty much all you need to know."

"I have a question," Hanson said while he raised his hand. "You said that we shouldn't draw blood. Won't intercepting them mean killing them?"

"That's a real possibility, but we'll try our best to not have that happen," I said. "We'll attack the back of the jets to give them enough time to escape and arrest them once they land."

"When we gain popular support with the people, they'll most likely use this to show that we're not saints," I began. "But if we keep them alive, we can turn the table."

"We'll show them that they're in fact alive," The shopkeeper said. "And that will make the government look like it's lying and losing control. Our popularity and support will grow even further."

I clapped my hands. "A+. That's exactly why we're keeping them alive. Even if they won't, we can use it to show them that we're righteous."

I had given them a lot of information and I could see that they were getting bored. "Okay, let's take a ten-minute break before we come back and I explain the last part."

Everyone took a breath of relief. They all began to stand up and walk around, chit-chatting amongst themselves. I was the only one alone as I stared at the whiteboard.

All the pictures, diagrams, etc. were being drawn on the whiteboard in my mind. My mind was focused as I thought about the next step.

-----

"Communication blackout has commenced," The voice over the walkie-talkie had said.

I took it out from my waist and held it up to my face. I waited five seconds before beginning to talk. A smile crept on my face. "You have permission to begin interception. Let Operation Trojan Horse begin."