Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 27: The King’s Judgement (1)

Dragon Raja 3

The Su-27 fighter jets broke through the clouds. Flying in such low-visibility blizzard conditions was a huge risk for the Su-27s, but the regulations required them to take this risk. This squadron was stationed in Verkhoyansk specifically for this day. If there was an incident at the unnamed port, the Su-27 squadron had to destroy it immediately—under no circumstances could national secrets be allowed to leak.

“White Stork calling, White Stork calling, Swallow, do you see it?” The squadron leader saw the burning Black Swan Bay in his field of vision. He couldn’t believe his eyes—the entire structure looked as if it was set atop an erupting volcano, with only a glowing red skeleton left.

“Swallow calling, I see it. It’s not an illusion,” responded the right-side wingman.

They were flying in an arrow formation of three Su-27s, speeding over Black Swan Bay, marked by the red star insignia of the elite squadron.

“It looks like it’s beyond saving, captain,” the left-side wingman commented.

“Yes, beyond saving.” The squadron leader sighed, “White Stork issuing the order to initiate ‘Swan’s Death.’”

“Swan’s Death” was the destruction protocol. In the face of potential leakage of state secrets, the Su-27 squadron had the authority to kill any survivors and even detonate vacuum bombs. Not even a strand of hair from Black Swan Bay could be allowed to leave; even burnt to a crisp, those here would be buried in the permafrost, within Soviet soil, never to fall into foreign hands. The Su-27s dived down toward the inferno, unleashing salvos of beehive rockets. These steel bees swarmed into the blaze, and explosions echoed one after another, bringing the already tottering building down to ruins.

“Hummingbird calling, mission complete,” said the left-side wingman. In the hail of beehive rockets, even the spotlight tower collapsed, and the ruins continued to burn fiercely, likely due to a fuel leak from the port’s oil depot. Temperatures in the inferno reached over a thousand degrees—no one could survive such an environment, not even in a fireproof suit.

“Do we still need to detonate the vacuum bombs?” asked Swallow.

“Let’s observe for a few more minutes. If there are indeed no survivors, we can forgo detonating the bombs,” the squadron leader replied. “Seal off the ruins and report to Moscow.” He glanced at the clock on the instrument panel—23:59—then adjusted the control stick, preparing for a final flyby over the blaze.

Suddenly, a blinding red light swept through the cockpit!

“White Stork! White Stork! I’m suddenly getting an alert here!” Hummingbird called out in shock.

“White Stork! White Stork! I’m also getting an unexplained alarm!” Swallow echoed.

The squadron leader thought for a few seconds and then suddenly understood. His pupils dilated, and his breath stopped!

“Retreat! Retreat!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “That’s the ignition signal for the vacuum bombs! Repeat! The vacuum bombs have been ignited!”

The pilots’ minds went blank. They had not activated the vacuum bombs, yet they had somehow self-ignited. The Su-27s performed dangerous maneuvers to turn back, retreating at full speed. As expected of the elite squadron, these complex maneuvers resembled a swallow flipping to avoid a diving eagle—a move that an average pilot would never be able to execute. The deafening blast rattled the back of their heads, causing their tail fins to shake. The turbine jet engines pushed to their limits; the pilots knew that the explosion was not the end but the beginning of destruction.

Around Black Swan Bay, 48 vacuum bombs surfaced from underground. First, a small explosion scattered highly explosive powder into the air. Seconds later, the explosive mixed evenly with the atmosphere. A high-temperature electric arc flashed, and the entire atmosphere above Black Swan Bay turned into a super bomb! A blinding white light shone like the birth of creation, and 48 columns of air rose like tornadoes, drawing the flames skyward before merging into a super firestorm a hundred meters in diameter. The firestorm rose to a certain height before expanding into a snow-white mushroom cloud.

The wing of Hummingbird’s aircraft was swept by one of the air columns, snapping completely. The pilot had no time to send a distress signal before being engulfed by the rapidly expanding mushroom cloud. Only two Su-27s managed to fly two kilometers before daring to look back; the fire-glowing mushroom cloud still had not dissipated, illuminating the night sky with a radiant glow.

Renata stared blankly at the mushroom cloud rising into the sky. The glorious pillar of fire symbolized the collapse of the cage that had once imprisoned her, but she didn’t feel much joy. She sat alone on the vast ice plain, her only company being the loyal but clumsy sled dogs. The one who had lured her into all these incredible acts and eventually escaped Black Swan Bay with her was now sound asleep beside her. Strictly speaking, Zero wasn’t actually sleeping—his eyes were wide open and vacant, staring at the pitch-black night sky. Renata had tucked him into a sleeping bag, the same one Zero had instructed her to bring.

She had finally escaped from her cage, but she had no idea where to go next, or when—or if—Zero would wake up. She wanted to go home, but did she still have a home? She wanted to go to Moscow, but what exactly was Moscow? It turned out she had nothing in this world—only that cage. She silently shed tears, calling to the clumsy sled dogs not to leave her side.

Agata licked her palm, making her feel warmth. She hugged Agata’s head, rubbing her cheek against its furry head.

She and the sled dogs were hiding under an ice ridge. Zero had said that both sides of an ice ridge would have parallel stripes formed by snow sliding down its slopes. These stripes weren’t visible from the ice plain but were easily spotted by pilots in the sky. They blurred the visual field, making it impossible for pilots to detect Renata. This was the final hurdle of their escape—avoiding aerial search.

The Su-27 fighter jets were returning from Black Swan Bay, flying no more than 400 meters above the ground. The flames from their exhaust nozzles were clearly visible in the polar night sky. Low-altitude flight was intended for ground searching—Zero had foreseen everything. Renata hugged her knees and gazed up at the sky. She wasn’t afraid of the fighter jets because she had no idea what they were. To her, they were just like eagles flying overhead. The pilots looked down at the ice plain, seeing an endless stretch of ice ridges. The stripes on both sides of the ridges made their vision blur, and when they flew over Renata’s ice ridge, they didn’t see the girl or the sled dogs. Renata was wearing a black-and-white striped winter suit, and the sled dogs were black and white themselves—like zebras hiding in a black-and-white forest.

Renata hugged Agata tightly. “Good girl! Don’t bark! We’re about to be free!”

The Su-27 dual formation left the ice ridge behind. Renata was about to stand up when she suddenly heard a loud roaring behind her. The Su-27s had returned, diving in canard configuration, their heavy machine guns spitting out meter-long muzzle flashes, riddling the ice with bullet holes. Several sled dogs fell in pools of blood. Renata stood there, dazed. She thought she must have done something wrong, because Zero was never wrong—so it must have been her mistake. What exactly had she done wrong that led to them being discovered by the Su-27s? She held her head, unable to think of an answer. The Su-27s turned again, unleashing another volley, and another four or five sled dogs fell dead.