Fifteen hours later, over the airspace of Sakhalin. The P-Orion were still circling off the coast of the Sakhalin Island, hunting Yamato submarines.
Leonid yawned heavily as he controlled the control yoke of the P-Orion. His back aching from the long hours spent in that chair. He rubbed his eyes wearily with one hand.
“Are there any contacts?” he asked aloud in his comms.
“Negative, sir. All we can hear is fish swimming near the sonobuoy.”
Leonid sighed and muttered to himself. “Are they only three of them?”
It’s been fifteen hours since they sank the three submarines lurking off the coast of Sakhalin and in those fifteen hours of circling over a specified area, and flying over certain distances, they found nothing other than marine animals wiggling their tails.
“Very well, contact the Sakhalin Airspace. Inform that there hasn’t been any contact for the last fifteen hours. Also, inquire them if the VIP has already arrived in the Sakhalin airbase…”
“Copy that, sir.”
Leonid flew for another two minutes until receiving word from his crew again.
“Sir, the VIP is inbound to the military airbase and we are told to return to base…”
Leonid sighed in relief after hearing that. At last, they can return to their home and take a good night’s sleep.
“Very well…we only have two hours’ worth of fuel, so we’ll refuel in the Sakhalin airbase before returning to Dalniy naval air station…Good job everyone! I’ll treat you all to a beer tomorrow.”
His crew cheered happily, and Leonid smiled. They had earned this as they’d worked splendidly well. He turned the yoke to the right, making it turn around, and headed back for the military airfield.
Fifteen minutes later, the P-Orion landed in one of the classified military air bases in Sakhalin. He taxied his plane toward one of the available hangars where the ground personnel will refuel the plane with a fuel truck that was waiting nearby.
“Okay gentleman. We’ve landed. If you want to get some fresh air, you may exit the plane.”
“Is it still raining?” One of his crews asked.
Leonid looked out of the window and saw a drizzle that was being lit by the headlight beams.
“A little…” Leonid said and faced his co-pilot. “Let’s do a system check. We’ve flown for fifteen hours so there’s a high chance that there might be something out of place. If you find anything, report to me immediately,” Leonid instructed.
“Yes sir,” his co-pilot nodded his head.
Leonid got up and stretched before walking out to the cabin, patting the shoulders of his crew as he walked past them. He opened the hatch of the P-Orion and climbed down the stairs.
The small drops of rain were not bothering him. As he stepped outside, Leonid was greeted by the cold weather breeze and welcomed it immediately.
He stood outside for about five seconds until he noticed that there are three helicopters and six men standing near it 50 meters away.
He scanned the helicopters present in front of him. When he was a student of the Ruthenian Royal Air Force Academy and up to this day, he memorized every aircraft and helicopter the Imperial Dynamic Systems Aeronautic Division had built.
According to its appearance. It’s a “Smew” S-76 medium-sized commercial helicopter copy and two “Black Stork” UH-60 Blackhawk copy helicopters.
“What are they doing here?” he asked himself as he walked toward him.
When the six men heard his footsteps, they walked up to him menacingly. Leonid gulped; they have guns.
“Are you the patrolman?” said the man with a deep Ruthenian accent. His body is well-built and has the face of a soldier.
“I’m Lieutenant Leonid Lipovsky of the Imperial Ruthenian Navy. A pilot of the P-Orion over there…” he introduced himself to the man as he turned around to point over to the P-Orion in the distance.
“Leonid huh? Aren’t you too young for your profession?” The man scanned his features.
“Well, I get that a lot. But what can I say? I’m just good during academy and flight school,” Leonid proudly declared. He glanced at the men standing behind the man.
There was an awkward silence between them until the man Leonid has been talking to chortled.
“You’re a funny man, aren’t you?” he patted him on the shoulder enough to make Leonid flinch slightly.
“I’m Igor Dmitriev, Special Forces… their fella behind me are my men. Oi, introduce yourself to our comrade here.”
One by one, they walked forward to shake Leonid’s hand.
“Viktor Adamovich.”
“Matvei Samarin.”
“Vlad Babinski.”
“Oleg Krasnoff.”
“Artur Markov.”
One thing Leonid noticed is that all of them are tall and muscular. Like they’d been conditioned and trained for combat.
“All of you are special forces?” Leonid asked, trying to confirm it.
“We’re it, comrade,” Igor answered smugly.
“I see…may I ask what you are doing here?”
“Are you not informed?” Igor asked sharply.
“Unfortunately, our mission is to neutralize Yamato submarines sailing near the coast of Sakhalin so yeah…I don’t know why you all are here.”
“But you are aware that the Grand Duchess of Ruthenia Empire is arriving at this base, right?”
“As far as I’m aware of.”
“Well, to answer it simply, we are tasked to pick them up and get them safely across the Sea of Yamato to Niigata City,” Igor stated matter of factly.
“Nii..? Ni…gi…ta?” Leonid repeated with difficulty. It took him several tries before managing to pronounce the name of the city which the Grand Duchess is bound to visit. He gave up.
“I think I understand what’s going on here,” Leonid started. “The Grand Duchess of Ruthenia Empire is going to visit the Yamato Empire, an information I and my crew are aware of, and you guys are going to serve as their bodyguards during their visit there, am I right?”
Igor chuckled. “Yup. You’ve caught us.”
Leonid grinned triumphantly at Igor. “It would be such an honor for all of you to be selected to protect the Grand Duchess…”
“Damn right we do…” Viktor interjected.
“I haven’t seen the Grand Duchess in person. I only see them on television. So this would be an honor for me as well.”
“In that case, you’re in for a treat boy because they are coming any moment now,” Igor said, pressing a hand on his earpiece.
A faint roaring sound of an engine can be heard above the skies. Soon enough, a sleek silver VC-25 descended slowly through the clouds.
Their mouths gaped at the impressive size of the aircraft. Leonid analyzed its appearance and began performing mental calculations. Its wingspan is almost sixty meters wide and its fuselage is 71 meters long. He had never seen or heard of this before. Is this one of the Imperial Dynamic Systems’ new planes? If it was, then it’s fascinating!
The plane’s engines roared louder when it touched the airstrip below. Then they gradually died off as the aircraft finally came to rest. The ladder truck quickly approached the side of the aircraft.
The driver of the truck aligned the stairs relative to the aircraft’s door. Once he did that, the hatch opened, revealing a blonde tall man in a black suit and the Imperial Guards that came downstairs.
Moments later, three girls dressed in simple yet exquisite blouses and skirts followed after. They are the Grand Duchess of the Ruthenia Empire.
“Woah…” an awed sigh escaped from Leonid’s mouth as his eyes were instantly charmed at the beauty of the Grand Duchess. He had seen many beautiful faces before but nothing could match up to the stunning countenance of the Grand Duchess, especially the woman in front. Christina Romanoff.
Just seeing their faces was enough to make Leonid fire up and hunt more submarines. It was an exaggeration but the point is that their presence alone is enough to increase the men’s morale.
I mean if you have such a stunning princess in your country, wouldn’t you want to protect them? That’s what Leonid is feeling right now.
Unfortunately, such relationships are forbidden due to social rank.
When the three princesses touched the ground, the Imperial Guards opened their umbrellas to shelter them from the rain.
They walked over to where Leonid and the Special Forces are standing. The Special Forces stood at attention and saluted the man with blonde hair.
“Are the special forces?”
“Yes sir!”
“I’m Rolan Makarov, Chief of Staff of the Imperial Guards and the head of security of the Grand Duchess.”
“We are OPCON to you, sir!” The Special Forces performed a salute and escorted them to their respective helicopters.
Meanwhile, Leonid was in a daze, his eyes following every movement of Christina.
Christina noticed his peering gaze and smiled gently at him.
She walked towards him and greeted him softly, “Hello. What’s your name?”
‘Is she talking to me? She’s talking to me!’ Leonid was having an internal crisis. ‘My heart beats faster than usual.’
Leonid stuttered in reply as he bowed and responded, “…Lieutenant Leonid Lipovsky…of the Imperial Ruthenian Navy…A P-Orion pilot.”
“A pilot, huh?” Christina mused.
Even though they are one meter apart, Leonid can smell her sweet perfume lingering on her delicate scent.
“I see,” she grabbed her hand and enveloped it warmly in hers, and squeezed it gently. “Thank you for your service, Lieutenant Leonid.
The moment he uttered those words his heart hammered against his rib cage as hard as a hammer hitting an anvil.
‘Long live…the Ruthenian Empire…’ he sighed dreamily.