“You don’t launch fireballs at my wingman and get away with it!” He said out loud, but not loud enough to activate the throat mic. Two ASRAAMs left his jet, both on course for the dragon; it’s wingspan was easily over 150ft.
Die you big scalelly fucker.
Only it didn’t: one ASRAAM lost lock and flew harmlessly past the target. The other hit one of the dragon’s colossal wings, wounding the creature but amazingly it kept flying.
Straight after Hannah.
The dragon fired a new fireball which she successfully avoided, but lost vital airspeed doing so. It was now right on her tail. And then, James watched in horror as it let out a stream of fire at her aircraft.
“Storm 2, eject! Get out of there Hannah!”
No reply came but he saw the Typhoon’s canopy break off, followed a microsecond later by the Martin-Baker ejection seat.
Thank goodness. Now time to end this cunt.
James managed manoeuvred behind the giant beast as it pulled up from its dive.
“Fox 2, Fox 2! You’re mine you fucker!” His final two air-to-air weapons chased down the dragon, again striking the creature’s wings. He heard the screech it let out even in his noisy cockpit… But the dragon remained airborne.
Only one option left – Guns.
The dragon reversed its attempt to climb and dived back towards the earth but James punched his throttle to full and followed after it. His finger hovered over the trigger that controlled his 27mm Mauser cannon. Both his radar and PIRATE tracker had a lock. Just a bit closer…
But then his navigational computer gave a loud noise.
“What the…”
Without even realising it, he was flying over the remains of London and was only a few miles from the suspected underground HQ site.
While revenge would have been nice, the mission still needed completing.
And maybe I’ll catch up with you afterwards you cunt…
James quickly activated the Typhoon’s laser designator pod which would guide his two bunker busters to their target. For some reason, GPS was struggling to get signal but with the laser designator, that wouldn’t matter.
“This is Storm Leader, over target now. STORES! Two away.”
A broken transmission was all that he received back in return. It almost sounded like… Radios were being jammed. But dragons couldn’t jam GPS and radio… Could they? No. Impossible.
But that wasn’t important right now.
He watched on is MFD screen as the two Paveways fell to their target. And then… Splash!
The two bombs dug their way deep into the dragon’s underground tunnel network and detonated their warheads. These warheads had been specially modified for this purpose, making them far more powerful than the standard 2000lb Paveways. Although the explosion on surface wasn’t particularly spectacular, they caused massive damage to the target.
However, James didn’t have any time to admire his work…
“Back for more you wanker?” he muttered as the same huge dragon he’d faced shortly before appeared from behind the ruins of St Paul’s Cathedral.
He heard its roar as the creature flapped its gargantuan wings and lifted off… Coming straight for his aircraft.
“If I’m going down then I’m taking you with me!” James muttered to himself. He watched on MFD screen as the dragon charged through the sky towards him, his PIRATE camera giving him excellent resolution… Once again his finger hovered over the gun trigger.
What was that beneath the dragon’s torso, coming out between its legs… It couldn’t be… It’s giant cock? And why the fuck was it erect? Well it wouldn’t matter in a few seconds…
James pulled the trigger spraying 27mm cannon shells into the dragon’s face and neck as the dragon let rip a giant ball of flame. The ball caught his Typhoon’s right wing, instantly burning through the jet’s control surfaces.
The last thing James remembered after pulling the ejection handle between his legs was the rocket motors of his seat activating, throwing him from his stricken aircraft. As he struggled against the G-Forces, the pilot was rewarded with the sight of what was left of his Typhoon ploughing into the dragon, finally finishing the mighty beast off. But then, the world turned to black as he passed out.
James awoke in pain, feeling the tug of the parachute; everywhere ached but especially his left ankle. He’d landed in what was left of one of London’s many small parks. Only several hundred yards away, James could see the ruins of numerous burnt out buildings. Destruction and black ash was everywhere. The hulks of destroyed vehicles littered a nearby street as well as the corpses of several deceased dragons. But the most horrifying sight was the charred bones all around the area. Trying not vomit, James freed himself from his parachute, and collapsed onto his back as his ankle gave way.
Fuck, that hurt. No way walking out of London is going to be an option. But the parachute needs hiding ASAP.
James reached down to his ankle; it didn’t feel broken but it was definitely a bad sprain. Moving was going to be painful. But he had to put some distance between himself and his landing zone.
After ditching his chute in rubble of a destroyed shop of some kind, he wandered towards the north. The compass he had in his survival kit guided him; the his mini GPS was unable to get signal but James’ locator beacon that he activated didn’t need GPS to work thankfully.
Although, he mused, no rescue helicopter was likely. And he had to get further before darkness arrived; dragons could see marginally better than humans in daylight but, at night they were unrivalled. Intel had confirmed that the dragons could see in infrared meaning that they’d detect the heat from his body. His only chance was to find cover and then use his infrared masking camouflaged sheet that was part of his survival kit.
To distract from the pain of walking, James began thinking back over the mission; how had Storm 3 and 4 done? He hoped they’d made it out alive. He’d seen no other aircraft after Hannah had gone down which couldn’t be a good sign.
Pain returned but to his head this time. Hannah. God, he really hoped that she was alright.
A subtle change in the noise made by the wind alerted him to a presence before he saw it.
Fuck I need cover!
James dashed underneath what was left of burnt out London tour bus, immediately rolling himself in the IR sheet. He made it with seconds to spare.
A pair of large dragons, not as big as the one he’d killed, but certainly 100ft plus, flew overhead. They began circling only a mile or two away; one of them let out a huge jet of flame on an unseen target which lit up the now darkening sky.
Well, looks like I’m staying here tonight.
Despite his best efforts to stay awake, after several hours, James felt himself drifting off. Thoughts of Hannah, Storm flight and dragons entered his head only to leave as fatigue overwhelmed him.
He didn’t know how long he was out for but James awoke abruptly. Something was off. He checked his watch: 0237am. While still night, flames in distance provided enough light for his eyes to scan the area.
Nothing.
But then… a noise.
He pulled the IR blanket tighter ensuring that all of him was covered.
Something or someone was definitely out there.
Had some Londoners survived after all this time?
James’ answer came soon after – a limping human being escorted by two dragons appeared around the corner. The second beast looked like it might have a human over its shoulder too but he couldn’t tell for sure.
The lead dragon stopped as if sniffing the air, allowing James to get a good look at them; both had dark red interlocking scales and were easily over 6ft. Neither had particularly long wings – it didn’t look like they were flyers. But they were obviously well built with large claws to boot. Maybe the dragons’ foot soldier equivalent?
Sudden panic set in as they headed down what was left of the street towards his position. However, the lead dragon turned back to his counterpart when they were about 25ft from James’ position. Immediately, the second dragon also stopped, lowing a body from its shoulder.
“Humans. Wait”
What, did that dragon just speak English? Well broken English at least.
Whoever the limping human was did just that, giving James a better view of group.
Definitely a fellow pilot judging by the attire.
His heart skipped a beat. Was it Hannah?
No, the figure was too stocky. Certainly a man.
The second pulled themself up off the floor, getting to their feet before sitting back onto their arse when they realised that they were stopping. They appeared female but Hannah had a taller, slimmer figure.
One of the dragons, who, to James at least, appeared to be the leader for the pair, let out a small burst of flame, setting alight an already destroyed car. Intel had mentioned how these beasts’ fire was a scientific marvel. Researchers were already trying to study how the created such as destructive flame.
The two captives glanced around, obviously looking for an escape route. But the dragons were far too close by and they were too injured to make a quick escape. The male looked over in James’ direction giving James a better view of his face.
I know him! Richard Powell. A Tornado pilot.
The cuts and bruises on Powell’s face were now visible too; he had a nasty looking gash down his right cheek that looked awfully like a claw mark.
James now also got a better view of the woman – she looked like a survivor who’d been living out in the ruins judging by her generally disheveled appearance. She had dark, shoulder length hair that was somewhat matted. The woman too had several marks on her face but none as noticeable as Richard’s.
The two dragons were communicating in barely audible grunts; rumours were that they were telepathic over short ranges but that wasn’t proven. Then, one roughly shoved the other. It was obviously an argument of some kind. But it didn’t last – the leader of the pair seemed to have won the scuffle and his colleague backed off, apparently into a sentry role.
The lead dragon walked over to the kneeling Powell and the woman, raising the the captives’ head with its clawed hands.
“Humans. You mine!”
“Just kill me you bastards” Powell said in return. “Get it over with!” The female captive was sobbing but didn’t say a word.
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