352 Operation Unscrewing the Lid
April 9, 1929.
In the Burnyi Class Destroyer. After a conclusive communication from the Central Command, Rolan went to a special briefing room designed specifically for Navy Special Forces.
Upon arriving there, Rolan saw five men suiting up their combat uniforms. They paused as they looked at him who just entered the room.
“Sir Rolan?” One of the Special Forces said. “I’m Donovan and this is my team. Igor, Ivan, Anton, and Apostol.”
The moment their names got called, they raised their hands in greeting at Rolan, who nodded in acknowledgment.
“Great, do you guys have any experience on the field?” Rolan asked as he stepped further inside and stopped by the table.
“No, sir. This is our first time,” Donovan said.
“That’s okay, as long as you are trained for the mission, there’s nothing much to worry about,” Rolan replied.
“Of course, Sir Rolan. When we have the Reaper on our team, the success of this operation is guaranteed. I heard that you infiltrated Buckingham Palace by yourself, killing hundreds just to get to the throne room and take a Black Hand operative. I’m impressed,” Donovan praised.
“Well, those Royal Guards weren’t expecting a visitor,” Rolan said as he wiped the rifle stock of the R4. “But this time, they’ll prepare a grand reception.”
“What’s the mission?” Igor raised his hand as he asked.
“The mission is to infiltrate Westminster Abbey. After having a personal chat with the Queen of the Britannia Empire, who turns out to be one of the executives of the Black Hand, I received this subtle hint about where they are keeping the royal family of Europa, which is the reason why we are all in this mess.”
“Keeping? I thought they were dead?” Ivan said.
“Well, not according to the Shepherdess of the Britannia Empire. They are keeping them up underground in the cathedral to execute them one by one for their sins. I have a feeling that they have already started killing them because of me kidnapping their Queen. Let’s just hope that when we arrive there, we’ll still have a survivor on our hands.”
“Question,” Apostol raised a hand. “The war started because the countries thought that Ruthenia killed them, even though we didn’t. If they are alive and returned to their respective countries, would that stop the war?”
“According to our intelligence, the Black Hand operates on an international scale. There are Black Hand executives in each country that are probably controlling the state as we speak. Saving them won’t guarantee the end of the war but would help question them about why they are still at war knowing that their kings and queens are alive. It’s senseless,” Rolan explained.
“But I heard that Ruthenia is winning. What if our government ordered the military to continue and occupy foreign territories?” Donovan raised a question.
“That is no longer our concern,” Rolan replied simply. “If our government decides something such as that, then there’s nothing we can do. We are soldiers, our purpose is to take orders and fulfill them. Didn’t you learn them when you were all at the boot camp?”
The soldiers shook their heads, denying it.
“Okay, so let’s get this done. I already have the papers with me so gather them around. I’m not going to repeat myself,” Rolan sat a document down atop the table as the soldiers stood and gathered around.
Rolan opened the document, revealing an image taken from the sky.
“Our reconnaissance aircraft operating over London’s airspace just sent this image ten minutes ago upon my request. What you see here is a bird’s eye view of Westminster Abbey. As you can see, there’s no one at the site except some military troops here and here,”
As he was briefing the men, Rolan encircled the troops he is referring to with a pen, emphasizing it.
“Now, why would they have troops stationed there? Are they protecting someone there? Who? The Queen of the Britannia Empire was dead according to his sister, Anne. There’s no logical reason as to why they are guarding the place unless they are keeping something there,” Rolan explained. “Our mission is to find out what they are keeping, could it be the royal families of Europa? If it is, then we are returning home big and receiving medals for our service.”
“So just like unscrewing the lid, right?” Donovan commented.
“Yeah, basically like that,” Rolan nodded affirmatively. “Gear up people, we egress in thirty minutes.”
“What’s our transport?” Igor inquired.
“A helicopter will take us to an aircraft carrier, transfer to Greyhound that will drop us in London,” Rolan answered.
***
Two hours later.
The Greyhound, carrying six Ruthenian soldiers, is cruising in London’s airspace at a speed of one hundred fifty kilometers per hour at an altitude of eight thousand feet.
It was lower than the last time Rolan had the privilege of their newly-built aircraft, the Globemaster, to get him to London to infiltrate Buckingham Palace. That was for security purposes. Aircraft such as the Globemaster can fly at a very high altitude without facing no problem whereas piston engines such as Britannian current fighter aircraft have a ceiling limit as air become less dense as the altitude increases, rendering it ineffective, as the radial engine of the aircraft needs a right amount of oxygen to perform efficiently.
In short, the Ruthenian High Command doesn’t want to risk getting their aircraft intercepted by a Britannian fighter aircraft. Which in this case, already happened, though it was a helicopter. It was still an aircraft integrated with modern systems that can be reverse-engineered.
But that isn’t a problem anymore, as the Ruthenian High Command conducted a bombardment at the enemy airfields, rendering the British Royal Air Force.
On the cargo hold of the Greyhound transport aircraft. Rolan was instructing Igor about the function of the night vision goggles.
The time is eight o’clock in London. The Britannian government declared martial law and restricted the movement of civilians in the capital. This is a good opportunity for the Ruthenian Special Forces to go in. No civilians at night mean no one will blow their stealthy approach.
“Okay everyone, we will jump in one minute. I believe you know what you are going to do once we land right?”
p
Rolan chuckled. “That’s right.”