Chapter 319 Mayday Mayday Mayday

As the helicopter flew over the city of London, Alexander and Sevastian were breathing a sigh of relief as they were able to escape the pandemonium that is wreaking havoc in the capital of the Britannia Empire.

They were peering down from the window and despite the continuous drumming sound of the rotor blades of the helicopter, they could still hear gunshots being fired here and there.

"This is looking like a coordinated attack. The Black Hand really did make huge preparations for this event," Alexander commented.

"You're right, Your Majesty. This is what we are fearing. The attack of the Black Hand. This is a great opportunity for them and they didn't waste it," Sevastian remarked and continued. "Well, as long as we get to our ship it's all over for the Black Hand. We will leave this country and return to Lithuania," he paused and looked at Rolan. "Right?"

Rolan's eyes were cast down as he removed his finger from his earpiece.

Sevastian frowned. The silence made Alexander curious so he turned his head to Rolan as well.

Alexander's brows creased. "What's the matter, Rolan? Your face looked grim."

"Well…Your Majesty, there has been a situation on the battleship," Rolan began dreadfully. "As the battleships were preparing to leave the port, they spotted a barge that was on the collision course with the battleship. It collided with the bow of the battleship and then the container it was carrying behind exploded. Making a huge hole in the hull."

"Oh my god," Alexander gasped in horror. "Are there any casualties?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Crewmen who were at the port side of the battleship were killed in an instant. Casualties are in the hundreds but it is yet to be confirmed. Also, they told me that their weapon and electronic systems were neutralized by the blast. They are also taking in water which means…"

"The battleship is going to sink," Sevastian finished Rolan's words.

Rolan nodded in confirmation.

"No fucking way…tens of billions worth of battleship were destroyed just like that?" Sevastian exclaimed, he too can't believe that the formidable warship on the earth was sunk in an unexpected way.

"Well, they are still assessing the damage. If they find the ship cannot be salvaged then they will consider initiating the scuttling procedure," Sevastian said quietly.

"I would understand if it comes to that," Alexander said, placing both hands on his face grimly. "The battleship is state-of-the-art. Full of technologies that can't fall on any nation. I hope it will be salvageable so that we can tug it out of Britannia," he sighed heavily. "So if the battleship is down, where are we going to land?"

"Your Majesty, the two destroyer escorts, His Imperial Ruthenian Majesty's Ship Burnyi Class Destroyers will take us out from the Britannia Empire—"

Suddenly, there were sparks outside, and the alarm inside the helicopter went out.

The three reflexively lowered their heads as the window shattered from the bullet whizzing past them.

"Sir we are under attack!" the pilot of the Black Stork informed and started performing evasive maneuvers.

Rolan raised his head slightly and took a peek, a rumbling sound of a radial engine could be heard.

"What the fuck…" Rolan cursed as he saw three aircraft that looked similar to the Britannian Supermarine Spitfire. "Don't tell me the Royal Air Force was also under the control of the Black Hand."

"It is true," Alexander took a peek as well. "The Britannian government is compromised, the Black Hand must have gained control over their bureaucracy. This helicopter won't survive three spitfires hounding us, we need to request assistance from the destroyers!" he said and Rolan nodded.

He pressed his earpiece again, attempting to contact the captain of the battleship who would then connect him to the destroyers.

Seconds later, his call went through.

"Captain! We have a problem! There are three spitfires gunning us down! Request immediate support!"

"Understood Eagle. I will inform the captain of the destroyers immediately. Hang tight!"

Outside, the three spitfires encircled the helicopter like a pack of wolves surrounding their prey. One of them pressed forward and unleashed a torrential rain of bullets from its machine guns. The Black Stork pulled up, making it stop in its intended path, and turned right, dodging the incoming bullets with ease. A second later, another spitfire came closer; it fired its main gun but the Black Stork evaded it with its evasive maneuvers.

The pilots piloting the Black Stork were tensely working at their fullest. They were maneuvering the helicopter that was carrying their emperor. The responsibility weighing their shoulders is heavy but they want to prove to their emperor that their training didn't go to waste. They'll prove that they are capable of getting the emperor out of this mess and safely returning home.

BEst

***

Meanwhile, at the Port of London. One of His Imperial Ruthenian Majesty's Ship Burnyi Class Destroyers received an order from the flagship.

"Yes Captain, we will do our best," the captain of the destroyer returned the telephone to its cradle. He turned around and faced his crew.

"Arm the missiles and shoot down the aircraft that is currently attacking the transport of His Majesty."

On the deck of the destroyer, the surface-to-air missile launcher armed with RIM-24 Tartar was launched.

A streak of white clouds trailed behind the rocket as it hound towards one of the spitfires currently engaging the Black Stork.

From the Black Stork, Alexander can see the white trail of the rocket and its whistling sound of it. It struck one of the spitfires, turning it into a fireball that dissipated in the air.

Another spitfire was hit by the RIM-24 surface-to-air missile. With a loud explosion, the enemy fighter went to pieces.

Alexander smiled triumphantly as he watched the performances of the anti-air missiles of the Imperial Ruthenian Navy. They executed their job perfectly and this was enough for him to fund the creation of more missiles.

There's only one spitfire left and the second destroyer of the Imperial Ruthenian Navy fired another RIM 24 Tartar missile. It traveled at the speed of Mach 1.8, an astonishing speed that closed the distance between the spitfire and the Port of London in a matter of seconds.

The pilot of the last spitfire saw the trail of clouds coming at him at high speed. He knew there was no escape from it so instead of worrying about his life, he focused on bringing down the Black Stork with him.

Just before the missile is going to intercept the spitfire, one of its bullets from its machine gun hit the tail rotor of the Black Stork.

The people inside the Black Stork panicked as the helicopter began to spiral downwards.

"Mayday mayday mayday! We are falling down. I repeat we are falling down! Brace for impact," the pilot of the helicopter announced through his headphones.

"Shiiiiiiiit!!" Alexander cursed as held onto the metal frame tightly and stared out the window. He saw the world spinning