Chapter 1 - The Crash

Ajay Ghale had left him alive. The son of his beloved Ishwari had showed mercy and let him escaped with the helicopter completely unharmed, to finally leave this kingdom. Although the heart of the former, tyrannical dictator Pagan Min was in his mouth, because his boy just could have shot him with a rocket launcher – Up here, in the safety sky, he acted like he was victorious. Victorious, although he had lost. Had lost a lot. Lakshmana, Ishwari, Ajay – the last link to his former lover. The boy, which he had raised the first three years of his life. And finally even Kyrat, which he stole so meticulously many years ago.
But ruthless as he was, he forced himself to smile. No need to panic – I've lost Kyrat, but in China I'll be able to get back into the drug business very easily, thanks to my name. Reach out for the right people hands and they'll fall for you..., the distinguished man thought smiling and played with his golden pen. He let it dance through his fingers and watched how it sparkled and glittered in the sunlight. But first he wanted to fly to the Maldives Islands – to one of his holiday houses. Re-arrange things. Gary – his extremely loyal assistant – was already waiting for him. He had sent him ahead, days before this happened.
The loud sounds of the flying object, the roar of the engine and the noisy flutter of the propeller – Pagan ignored all those things while he stared thoughtfully at his pen. How it turned, just like the air-screws of the helicopter.

Suddenly there was a quiet tooting noise, then a beeping and the dictator looked up – He lost his pen. It fell on the floor, barely audible thanks to the loud surrounding. It slipped over the metal and under one of the seats, where it couldn't be seen anymore.
"Mayday", the typical phrase of the pilot Zhōng, in the same stereotypical tense voice, which one would expect in a situation like this: "We're loosing control. The engine must be damaged."
It shook. It shook very unpleasantly and the stutter of the motor could be heard very clearly. "I hate... when things get out of control", the former leader of Kyrat said dry, with a bitter voice and a sarcastic smile. Once again a certain fear came over him and adrenaline rushed through his entire body. He could feel the heartbeat up to his temples. The co-pilot Kamran left the small cockpit to get back to Pagan. He yelled as loud as necessary: "YOUR HIGHNESS? WE'LL HAVE TO JUMP!"
Jump?, the Chinese man thought and just for a short moment, his brown eyes showed the fear, which he actually felt. How high were the chances of survival? He already got a parachute as they took off... but would it open? Where would they land? Into the water? His head turned around, looked out of the window – again the engine made fatal sounds. The thing was still flying, holding itself up in the sky – rather bad than right. Pagan Min moved closer to the edge and the co-pilot spoke calmly: "Look – over there. Islands! Zhōng will still take us as far as he can – then we'll jump! We'll be able to land on one of these islands with our parachutes!"
The blonde man swallowed – nodded. Yes. That'd work. What kind of death would it be, to be spared, just to die later in a crash during the 'escape'? It just couldn't end like that. No. Pagan would survive this, just like he survived the uprising of the rebels.
"Ten seconds left", the pilot screamed and the co-pilot pulled the ousted king of Kyrat up to his feet – the sliding door was opened and without remorse, the icy air banged loudly in the ears of the oldest man. It shook again and the pen moved again. It slipped like a wet soap at the edge of a bathtub. Min didn't track the motion until the very last moment, as the object moved past him and fell out of the open door of the helicopter. Down into the blue. HIS FUCKING, GOLDEN PEN! That thing meant the world to him – Ishwaris gift! Unbelievable, that he was still able to complain about it in silent, although he was about to follow into the unknown.
"THREE!", Pagan's heart beat wildly. The adrenaline in his veins seemed to suppress every bit of oxygen – At least it felt like he would choke at any moment.
"TWO!", the co-pilot pulled him to the door of the helicopter and twaddled something about 'pulling a cord'.
"ONE!", a last breathe.
Then a rough push at his back – the king lost the floor under his feet. Temporary the beeping noise of the engine cut off and the wind lashed through his ears, echoing loudly. He only noticed the fact, that the co-pilot jumped right after him, as he heard the man yelling: "PULL THE CORD!"
Instinctively the dictator ran his hands over his body until he actually found the ripcord of his parachute and gave it a strong pull. With a sudden, violent jerk he was stopped from the free falling. The wind got quieter – the feeling to fly got a little bit safer. He was nearly numb for any other sensations. The voice of the co-pilot became very dull. The attempt to look around, to look up, back to the helicopter was barred by the wide fabric of the parachute, which slowed down his fall. But he could hear it barely rotate. A second later he saw the black metal-monster fall unrestrained into the sea. Just like a stone it crashed down and slowly disappeared into the deep blue. Pagan Min didn't want to guess how high they were – but he saw the green treetops of the island they talked about. Kamran managed to get close enough to him to order the king, which the proud ruler obeyed. Pull here and pull there to guide this thing in the direction of the northern island. Wasn't even that hard, was it? But why didn't the adrenaline decrease? He had done something like that a few times already... Even just for pure entertainment!
A few minutes they glided through the air – at least it felt like minutes to Pagan – maybe it were just seconds, but maybe even hours. Suddenly – shots. If the former king hasn't been shocked enough already, he probably would've been able to swear. But right now some bullets went past him and ripped holes into his parachute. The pilot screamed – and the co-pilot called his name: "Zhōng!"
Pagan didn't want to know if that was a good or a bad thing. Good, because he was alive and managed to get out of the fucking helicopter – bad, because his voice sounded very painful: "JUST A GRAZE, KAMRAN!"
The holes slowly tore the fabric of the parachute apart and the blonde Chinese lost the control over it. "HIGHNESS!", Kamran yelled, as he noticed that Pagan sank faster than before. But it couldn't be helped. Words couldn't stop a ripping cloth. Pagan got faster and started to fall instead of gliding. The treetops came dangerously closer. No matter how hard he tried to pull up and maybe manage to land on the clear space – It was completely hopeless.
His body crashed into the branches with full force, which bruised his legs and arms. Some of them even hurt his face, many others left unpleasant wounds and ripped his sinfully expensive attire. Sounds of pain left Pagan's throat: "Ghrra... argh... khh..."
The last branch which he remembered hit him near his left eye. Then there was again a forceful jerk and the king hang in the air. He hang and something chocked him. Upset and panicked his hands grabbed his throat – Cords... Ropes... something was there and cut off his air in a unpleasant manner: "CHRRRR! CHE...LP!"
A nearly unintelligibly wheeze. He felt something hot running along his cheek, down his neck, his hands. One look explained immediately what it was – blood. The fall injured him and now he was trapped like a fish in a net, gasping for air, which he just couldn't get anymore. More and more panic, his hands pulled at the thin ropes, tried to get them off his throat – also hopeless.
Don't die... Not like that!

The adrenaline did what it was supposed to do and helped Pagan to last some more minutes in which he tried to not faint due to the air restriction and blood loss. But finally, everything around him got dark. Slow and agonizing he slipped deeper and deeper into a dark void.
Far away, he thought he could hear a crackle. Did he feel something? Did he hear voices? Or was it just his imagination?
Without being able to understand, the last spark of life left his body...

A/N

Olá internet people! 3
So here it is, the very first chapter of Between Insanity And Flamboyance. For those who still do not know what's going on here: Pagan crashed on Rook Islands!

This is a story, originally written in german by me and a friend o'mine… another friend o'mine act like a fucking sweetheart and translate this shit, cuz I have no time to do this. 3 But I read this beta and upload it for you guys! So… there were some dudettes who wanna read this story, but they cant understand the german language… that's why we translate it! 3
I hope you have fun and I see forward to hear from you guys in the comments! Just for you, you suckers 3!
I love you guys! And I really appreciate that Damien will keep translating 3
Oh and, by the way: Our english is not very well, so please: it's pretty ok if you point out errors to me!

As usual, I don't own or profit from anything UBISOFT has created...