03:35
SNA Multipurpose Base, Mallorca, Spain
Brigadier Rashford set the phone back onto its cradle and rubbed his temples, exhaustion clawing at his skull. He pressed the intercom button on his desk, leaning back in his chair as if the weight of the world had finally pressed him down. He hadn't slept in almost two days. Germany and Israel had launched a joint offensive against the UK, and as commander of a forward SNA base, every decision he made determined whether his people lived or died.
Only last night, a surprise Israeli strike had destroyed both of Mallorca's runways. Now, as if that weren't enough, he had just taken a call from Arash — urgent orders to intercept an ekranoplan carrying nuclear warheads.
The office door opened, and a sergeant stepped in, heels clicking. Rashford asked without looking down from the ceiling, "Has the runway been fixed yet?"
"Negative, sir," the sergeant replied. "We can't scramble jets, at least not before midday tomorrow."
Rashford lowered his head, jaw tightening. "What about ships? What do we have?"
"We can dispatch gunboats and corvettes on demand."
"That won't do." Rashford pushed himself to his feet, agitation crackling in every movement. "I need something with real teeth. Anything in the area with at least 120 mm cannons?"
The sergeant faltered, unable to answer. Rashford stormed past him and into the control room.
Inside, dozens of handlers and watchers sat at their stations, voices low but urgent, eyes glued to glowing monitors. Some coordinated ground operations; others scanned global radar feeds. The room felt like the brain of the base — buzzing, tense, overworked. Rashford strode straight to the commander's bridge.
"Watchers", he barked. "Find me interceptors. Fighters, cruisers, I don't care. Anything in range that can put out the firepower of a destroyer. I need results yesterday."
Minutes ticked by, every second like a blade twisting deeper. Finally, a watcher raised his head. "Sir. Task Force 7 is in the area. They have the Athena. She's en route to Tehran Air Base."
Rashford snapped, "Connect me."
"Yes, sir."
The main screen lit up with a marker tagged Athena, gliding steadily over the Mediterranean Sea. A voice crackled over the speaker — female, calm, professional. "Charlie Two speaking."
"Charlie Two, this is Blue Sparrow, Mallorca Forward Command. Do you have ordnance aboard?"
Annabelle's voice replied cautiously, "What type of ordnance are you asking about?"
"Anything above a hundred millimetres."
"Yes. The Athena carries a 105mm and a 220mm cannon."
Relief surged through Rashford, but he kept his voice sharp. "Good. You'll detect an ekranoplan crossing your radar in ten minutes. You are to intercept it immediately."
Another voice came over the channel, this one heavier, firmer — Mei. "Charlie Leader here. Negative, Blue Sparrow. We're transporting premium packages. We cannot risk engagement with the cargo on board."
Rashford's patience snapped. "That ekranoplan is carrying enough nuclear warheads to wipe the United Kingdom off the map, Charlie Leader. We have no other interceptors in range. You're it. You're our only hope."
Aboard the Athena
Annabelle's eyes flicked toward Mei. Silence stretched between them, filled only by the drone of engines and the hum of electronics. Behind them stood De Luca and several others, their faces pale, drawn, and sleepless. Everyone was watching Mei.
Then, footsteps. A woman stepped forward from the shadows. She looked almost identical to Annabelle — the same sky-blue hair, the same delicate outline of her jaw. Her expression, however, was sharper, more insistent.
"Captain," she said, her tone urgent. "You have to intercept that aircraft. If Blue Sparrow's telling the truth, we won't even have a home left to return to."
Her words cut through the hesitation like a blade. Mei stared at her for a long second, then looked back to the radio. She flicked the switch, voice steady at last.
"Okay, Blue Sparrow. We'll intercept the ekranoplan. Charlie Leader out."
She turned to Annabelle, her decision firm. "Okay, Ann. You know what to do."
03:47
Over the Eastern Mediterranean
The bridge of the Athena vibrated with the subtle hum of its engines. Clouds drifted beneath the massive craft as radar screens painted a single, ominous blip racing low across the sea.
"Contact confirmed," AURA announced in her crisp, synthetic voice. "Ekranoplan. Bearing zero-eight-five, range 54 kilometres. Speed: 450 knots. Altitude: sea-skimming, five metres above the surface."
Annabelle's hands tightened on the flight controls. "Visual?"
The forward display magnified, and there it was — a hulking monster of Soviet-era design, its massive wings slicing just above the waves. Painted in Russian markings, the ekranoplan looked more like a beast than a machine, its belly swollen with six nuclear warheads hidden inside.
Mei stood at the centre of the bridge, arms crossed, her voice steady but edged with urgency. "That's our target. No warnings. No hailing. Destroy it before it crosses into Spanish waters."
"Roger." Annabelle dipped the Athena lower, engines roaring as the massive hybrid airship swooped to meet the ekranoplan head-on.
De Luca strapped into the gunner's chair, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he flicked his console online. "Finally. Something worth the 220."
"Engage fire control," Mei ordered.
AURA's voice responded instantly. "Fire control active. Target locked. Probability of success with primary cannons: 72 percent. Recommend staggered volleys."
"Do it," Mei said.
The Athena's belly opened, mechanical servos whining. The 220 mm cannon rotated forward, its muzzle locking onto the ekranoplan.
"Firing in three, two…"
The cannon thundered. The recoil rippled through the Athena's frame as a shell screamed across the sky. It hit the sea just short of the ekranoplan, throwing up a geyser of salt water.
"They're weaving!" Annabelle called, fighting the yoke as the ekranoplan swerved violently, hugging the waves to throw off targeting.
"Adjust elevation point two. Compensate with predictive fire," Mei snapped.
"Correcting", AURA confirmed.
The 105 mm cannon opened up this time, staccato booms rattling the airship. Three shells arced, and one struck the ekranoplan's right wingtip. Metal tore away, flames licking the wound.
"They're still airborne," De Luca growled. "Switching to 220 again."
But the ekranoplan was not passive. Panels opened along its sides, and two surface-to-air missiles streaked out, spiralling toward the Athena.
"Missiles inbound. Time to impact: 12 seconds," AURA warned.
"Deploy countermeasures!" Mei barked.
Flares streaked from the Athena's hull, bursting into blinding fireballs. One missile veered off and exploded harmlessly. The other kept coming.
Annabelle jerked the controls, banking the massive airship hard to port. The missile whooshed past the starboard hull, close enough that the shockwave rattled every bolt.
"Too close," Annabelle hissed.
Mei's voice was like iron. "End it, De Luca."
De Luca's hands flew over the fire controls. "Lining up the 220… locked… firing!"
The deck shook as the heavy cannon discharged again. This time the shell slammed into the ekranoplan's fuselage. The explosion ripped a smoking hole along its midsection. Flames gushed out, trailing across the sea.
"She's still going!" Annabelle shouted. The ekranoplan, wounded but not dead, ploughed forward like a juggernaut.
AURA's voice cut through. "Target structural integrity at 42 percent. Recommend sustained fire until catastrophic failure."
Mei's eyes burnt. "Hammer it. Everything we've got."
The Athena unleashed hell. The 105 mm barked relentlessly, shells punching into the ekranoplan's hull. The 220 mm boomed again, tearing chunks of metal free. The sky lit with thunder and fire as De Luca poured round after round into the beast.
Finally, one shell hit its engines. The left cluster erupted in a fireball, shrapnel raining into the sea. The ekranoplan buckled, smoke pouring from its wings. It tilted, nose dipping.
"They're losing control!" Annabelle cried.
Onscreen, the ekranoplan slammed into the water. Its massive bulk ploughed through the waves, bouncing once, twice — before its nose shattered and the entire craft broke apart. A final explosion tore through the fuselage, and the wreck began to sink, fire trailing across the dark surface of the Mediterranean.
"Target destroyed," AURA confirmed flatly. "Nuclear payload submerged. Risk of detonation: negligible."
For a moment, silence ruled the bridge. Only the rumble of engines and the hiss of static filled the air.
Annabelle let out a long breath. "That… was too close."
De Luca leaned back, wiping sweat from his brow. "I almost feel bad for the bastards. Almost."
Mei didn't move. She stared at the screens, watching as the last fragments of the ekranoplan slipped beneath the waves. Her voice was low, controlled, but her knuckles were white. "Mission complete."