This is a really short story I wrote on this specific genre so I wouldn't stay rusty at it. But, I figured it might be well enough to post here.

The Pilot.

The giant plane soared through the gray skies, just above the thick clouds that gave them cover from the ground. The loud engines demolished any sound that tried to pass it. The silvery gray exterior of the aircraft matched the clouds; the only blemish was the painted logo on the side.

The inside was roomy, but had only a small crew: a pilot, co-pilot, and three other trained personnel. They all looked the same in their matching jumpsuits, hats, and goggles. They're large headsets jutted out the sides of their faces, with a bulged ear piece and slim microphone.

"This is it." The pilot said, over the intercom built into the plane.

Now starting to descend closer to the Earth, the flight crew all readied their places. The pilot slowly dropped the plane, closer and closer to their destination, and their target. Just seconds later, the clouds were just above the flight craft, and they were almost ready to finish it.

"Hit it." The pilot said.

His co-pilot leaned forward, and looked at the panel of buttons, switches, flickering lights and levers. He flicked a light red switch, and the plain shook just a little. He leaned back into his seat and took back his initial role in flight. He kept silent, and looked forward into the sky.

Back with the other three personnel, the plane hatch slowly opened below the plane. The three men in the back all pushed forward a giant, black metal, oblong shape with a square-like fins on the back. There was a removable panel on the side. The men didn't need to speak to know what to do next.

The now-armed atomic weapon seemed to hover above the perfect size hole underneath the plane. The preparations were finished just minutes before it was time to drop their payload. All the men now waited with suspense, and curiosity. The three in the back just stared at their weapon of destruction, while the two pilots stared blankly forward, waiting for the warning light to go off before they reached their targeted area.

The cabin lit up red, now, the light slowly going on and off telling the two men it was time. Nodding, the co-pilot hit another switch in the center console. Over the intercom, the pilot said, "Here we are."

The three men in the back took a few steps away from the bomb. One of them eyed a corporation symbol on the side of the metal plating. It looked like a point within a circle, with wings attached to the side. The wings, of course, were just three lines on both sides. One longer than the others.

The weapon dropped without warning, falling through the sky. The surface turning so hot it would burn skin to the touch. It fell silently, with no possible way to stop it. It fell high enough, and slow enough, for the plane to escape it's horrific effects. It fell, and it fell, and it hit the ground.

The crew just ignored trying to look at the damage, knowing they couldn't see it. They knew what they did, and as soon as the bomb fell, none of them were proud of themselves. Slowly, and quietly, the pilot reached and picked up the intercom radio.

His voice of despair said, "Good work back there... We're going home."