A singular streak of red whipped through a cloudbank and dove into a glorious barrel roll. A crimson biplane swooped low over the ground and its pilot came into view. Clad in red, like his plane, which had, in white letters upon its side, the name "Hockenheim". The pilot was blond of hair and blue of eye, square of jaw and dashing of smile.
His name was Falcon, and he was heading home.
The Hockenheim looped past Big Ben and toward the airstrip outside of the Ministry of Defence's main building. Falcon left his trusty plane in the care of one of the docking crewmen and, with a brief flash of his top-level access card to the security men, walked through the main entrance and into the elevator.
Falcon left the elevator, and feeling the deep carpet under his soft-landing boots, entered the boardroom.
A long ovoid table sat in the centre of the room, lit by three overhead lamps. The long wide windows were shuttered, and only a few slivers of misty England sunlight shone through. Sat around the table were various figures, some in suits, others in military uniform. At the head of the table was a man in pilot's gear, with a large white moustache. His eyes were the same as Falcon's, for he was his father, Pride.
Falcon snapped into a smart salute. "Flying officer Falcon Highguard reporting for duty, Sir!"
"Thank you, Flying Officer. Take a seat." Pride's mouth was serious but his eyes twinkled with good humour.
Falcon took a seat.
One of the suited men stood and cleared his throat. "Now, that we are all assembled, I will explain the situation. The subject, people, is as always, power stones. As you all know, it was officially announced two months ago by the national mining council that Great Britain has no power stones left. It seems to be the same everywhere. Power Stones seem to be diminishing in number everywhere, and miners can't account for the fast rate of their disappearance. However as of late, we are trying to establish favourable trade relations with Japan and China, who it seems have plenty left. They have agreed to meet with a representative from our fair country." The suit turned to look Falcon in the eye. "It has thus far been unanimously decided that you, Flying Officer, should be the one to extend the hand of co-operation."
Falcon's eyes widened in mild surprise. "But I'm not the most suited for this mission, sir. I don't speak Chinese, or Japanese for that matter."
"There will be translators."
"And plus, I just got back from Russia the other week. Don't I have some leave due?"
"I understand this, but this is an important mission, Mr. Highguard."
Falcon was getting a little irritated. He dedicated his life to serving his country, but he treasured his leave. It was the only time he was able to visit her…
"I am a freelance agent you know."
There was silence and then. "I know. I'll give you some time to consider it. If I may call this meeting to adjournment, sir?"
Pride nodded.
As the men filed out of the boardroom, both Pride and Falcon stood fast.
Pride got up, and came over to sit closer to his son.
"Father, why did you nominate me? You know I'm only able to visit mum when I'm on leave. Why not send a proper diplomat? I'm a fighter."
Pride nodded. He knew that there was no hiding things from his son. "I can't help but feel suspicious of the East at the moment, I can't help but wonder why all our supplies are missing, and yet theirs remain plenty. I think it'd be best if we sent someone who knows what to do if things turn ugly. They deny any foul play, but still it seems too much of a coincidence. But also, there's more. I have been informed that there is a Hyper Stone somewhere in the mountains of China."
"A Hyper Stone? What's one of them?" Falcon was puzzled.
"It's a highly concentrated form of power stone. Incredibly rare. It radiates three times the energy of a regular power stone, and it is rumoured that it contains miraculous curative abilities."
Falcon's eyes widened once again. "Curative abilities? Does that mean…"
Pride's face broke into a wide grin, making his moustache point up. "Yes. If you can obtain it, then there is a chance that you could save your mother's life, Falcon."
Falcon leapt to his feet, knocking his chair back. "Well, what are we waiting for! Let's go!"
Pride looked saddened. "Unfortunately son, I can't go with you. Since my promotion to Group Captain, my responsibilities tie me down to the ground. But I'll tell your mother about your mission."
"No." Said Falcon. "I don't want to get her hopes up. I don't want to keep her in false suspense."
Pride laughed and slapped him on the back. "I'm proud of you, son."
After the relevant procedures were performed, the Hockenheim taxied down the runway and soon, Falcon was high above the clouds once again. Soon, the high mountains of China came into view. Soon, he would be in Peking, and soon he would be searching for that stone, after he had dealt with that trading business. These days he was becoming more and more of a figurehead for politics. This was not why he enrolled in the Air Force! He'd joined to fly planes over enemy borders! To fight with enemy planes like his father! But, there wasn't any actual fighting at the moment, but with the current tension in Russia, that could be set to change.
Falcon was shaken from his thoughts as gunfire from the forest below him peppered the side of his plane. "What!?" The pilot shouted in surprise as he struggled to keep the plane in the air. The Chinese are protective of their barriers, but they're not known for shooting people down without warning. Especially representatives from another countries! The pilot thought frantically as he struggled with the joystick. Oh, hell! Here we go!
The Hockenheim crashed through tree and bush, coming to rest a mere foot away from a very puzzled and surprised small deer.
Brushing away leaves and twigs, Falcon clambered out of the cockpit, tripped and did a nice forward roll onto the ground. He sat up, rubbing his head and opened his eyes and found the tip of what was obviously a very sharp sword tickling the tip of his nose.