Two men clinging to the burning wreckage of a suspected drug smuggling vessel in the Caribbean survived a US military airstrike, only to be killed by a second missile nearly an hour later.

The incident, detailed in harrowing video footage shown to US senators this week, has ignited a firestorm over the rules of engagement in international waters. Crucially, new testimony suggests the destroyed boat was never headed for the United States—a revelation that strips away the primary justification for the lethal intervention.

Destination: Suriname, Not the US

According to two sources with direct knowledge of testimony provided by the US admiral who directed the September 2 attack, the small vessel was ferrying narcotics to a larger ship bound for Suriname, a South American nation bordering Guyana. This contradicts the initial narrative that the strike was an immediate necessity to protect US borders.

The timeline of the attack paints a grim picture of the operation:

• The First Strike: The US military targeted the small boat, disabling it and leaving it in flames.
• The Interval: Surveillance footage reportedly showed survivors holding onto the debris for approximately 60 minutes.
• The Second Strike: Instead of a rescue operation or an attempt to detain the suspects, a second strike was authorized, obliterating the survivors.

Lethal Force vs. Law Enforcement

The Pentagon's approach stands in stark contrast to standard US Coast Guard protocols, which prioritize arrest and prosecution. New video evidence of a separate Coast Guard mission demonstrates that agents typically disable engines and board vessels to arrest suspects, preserving life and securing evidence for trial.

By contrast, the military opted for a "kinetic" solution—military jargon for lethal airstrikes—against a civilian-style boat that posed no immediate military threat. Analysts warn that this militarization of anti-narcotics operations creates a dangerous gray zone where suspects are treated as enemy combatants rather than criminals.

For observers in Nairobi, where maritime security along the Indian Ocean is a critical issue, the incident sets a concerning precedent regarding international law. It raises a fundamental question: Does the suspicion of trafficking narcotics justify extrajudicial execution at sea, particularly when the cargo is not bound for the intervening nation?

As the Senate presses for answers, the distinction between policing the seas and waging war on them has never looked more blurred.