322 On the Run
Earlier.
At the crash site. Alexander, Rolan, and Sevastian were groaning in pain as they lay flat on the metal debris of the helicopter.
“Is anyone alright?” Rolan asked as he lifted his upper body and scanned the surroundings. His first thought was Alexander’s safety, so he crawled over to him and checked him. “Your Majesty! Are you okay?”
“I think I hurt my appendix but I’m fine…” Alexander replied while groaning in pain. “How about the others? Did you check on them?”
Rolan glanced to his right and checked Sevastian. “Sir Sevastian? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine Rolan…just focus on checking the emperor. Don’t mind me…” Sevastian replied as he tried to get up, wincing in pain.
After seeing that both are okay, Rolan crawled to the front, where the cockpit is located. There, he checked on the pilots, and to his horror, they were already dead. The pilot was impaled with metal bars while the co-pilot must have suffered a severe head concussion. But he had to make sure that they are dead as they are still his comrades.
He placed a finger on their neck to check for their pulse. But there was nothing pulsing underneath his fingers.
He returned back to the cabin to check Alexander again. “Sir, this is our situation. Unfortunately, our pilots are dead. As for the three of us, we have to get out of here and get to the Port of London as soon as possible,” he reported and offered his hand to raise him up.
Alexander took his hand and pulled himself up. “I agree. Ah shit…even the Royal Air Force of the Britannia Empire is compromised huh? All the more reason that we have to deal with the Black Hand immediately. Well, let’s radio our status to the command, they must have been worrying about us.”
“Will do that, Your Majesty,” Rolan said as he pressed his earpiece to establish communication with the command. “This is Eagle, we just crashed in a…” he paused as he checked over the shattered window, “in a park…we will be leaving here…” he trailed off.
“What’s the matter?” Alexander noticed the frowning expression plastered over Rolan’s face.
p、A,nd A-n、o、ve,1 “I can’t reach the command, nor the others. My radio is compromised, Your Majesty.”
“Ah…fuck,” Alexander cursed. “What a convenient time to lose our communication. Well, I’ll try the cockpit, see if I can do some mechanical repairs, and establish the communication back.”
With that, Alexander went over to the cockpit but as soon as he get there, the panels were all destroyed.
“Shit!” Alexander cursed loudly. “They are all broken, I won’t be able to do something meaningful here.”
“So, are we going outside?” Sevastian asked after seeing that it was the only choice they have.
“Well, yes, because this place is infested with Black Hand. We should get out of here as soon…”
Rolan’s words were interrupted by a roaring engine coming from afar.
“Ahh…” he let out a sigh. “What great timing. Your Majesty, Sir Sevastian. Let’s get out of this helicopter as soon as possible. The Black Hands are coming,” Rolan said, tapping on their shoulders, beckoning them to stand up.
“How can you be so certain?” Sevastian asked.
“Well, from now on every person in the Britannia Empire is affiliated with Black Hand until proven otherwise. The only person that you can trust is me, so let’s get the hell out of here before they arrive,” Rolan said coolly.
The three of them crawled out of the helicopter. Fortunately for them, they did only suffer minor damages. There was blood trickling down on Alexander’s temple, but it wasn’t serious. Rolan also has a cut on his forehead. Whereas Sevastian had multiple gashes on his face.
Alexander wiped the blood off his face with the back of his arm. The engine of the car kept roaring from the distance as it revved up.
Rolan raised his tiptoes and peeked from the destroyed helicopter. Five motorcycles, two vehicles, approached them at high speed.
He cocked his assault rifle, the FN Fal, preparing for possible engagement.
Alexander and Sevastian also saw the motorcycles and vehicles approaching.
“I hope that you two are great runners,” Rolan said and continued. “Because we are going to run out of here.”
“Give me a gun Rolan,” Alexander asked, handing out his hand. “You won’t be able to handle their numbers alone should we make contact with them.”
Rolan was well aware of the emperor’s marksmanship so he handed him his M1911 pistol.
Alexander unloaded the magazine to check the number of cartridges. It was fully loaded. He inserted it back into the magazine well and cocked the pistol.
“Okay let’s run!” Rolan said and the three sprinted out.
One minute later, the vehicles and the motorcycles stopped at the crash site and inspected the inside of the helicopter.
“I only see two dead people in the front. They must’ve run away.” one of them said.
“Then they mustn’t have gotten so far,” replied the other. Let’s split up. The moment you see them, kill them.”
***
One hour later.
In one of the many alleys of London, Alexander and Rolan were engaged in combat with the pursuers.
“Cover me!” Rolan shouted and Alexander nodded in affirmation.
Alexander fired three rounds at the pursuers, causing them to hide behind the wall. Rolan repositioned himself by dashing over to the garbage dumpster.
As soon as Alexander went out of ammo, the pursuers then peeked from their wall with their rifles and pistols and opened fire.
Knowing that Rolan was hiding at his last location, they carelessly pushed forward, firing at the very wall where they thought Rolan was.
But the moment they passed the garbage dumpster, Rolan rose and pulled his trigger, killing the two in the instant.
“Clear!” Alexander shouted at him.
Rolan huddled back to Alexander and resumed their run.
“I’m sorry for being a burden to the two of you,” Sevastian said shamefully.
“Don’t worry, no one expects you to hold a gun anyway,” Alexander let out a chuckle, soothing the mood. “It’s been one hour since we lost contact, what do you think is happening now in St. Petersburg? They must be panicking.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that, Your Majesty,” Sevastian said and continued. “For now, you can’t fulfill your role as the commander-in-chief, meaning you are incapacitated. So they have to get to Winter Palace and pull Her Imperial Majesty, your wife, out, who will then become the temporary head of state of the Ruthenia Empire. I’m sure she’s in the Command Ops right now, worrying over your safety.”
“Ah…I promised I would not make her feel worried,” Alexander grumbled. “Well, we have to run back to the Port of London or the Ruthenian Embassy…”
“I disagree, Your Majesty. The Blacks Hands are already expecting that. We must go to another location safer than those two.”
“And that is?” Alexander glanced at Rolan.
“There’s a FIS safehouse not far from here. Once we get there, we will have special forces to retrieve us,” Rolan answered.