Chapter 24.
Date 27.02.2120.
The sun was playing merrily on the instrument panel and other elements of the cockpit. In fact, there were no reasons for a good mood at all. Blankenberg glanced in the direction of the starboard side. Judging by the still functioning navigation, the wind was blowing the capsule in that direction. There was no need to eject using the seat, and that was good.
Some were less lucky, some were fatally unlucky. "Crusader 12-02" exploded in the air immediately after being hit by this steroid PL-270. "Crusader 12-05" received critical damage, the cabin safely separated and dropped speed, but in the end мajor Becker had to eject using the seat, which, as in the early days of jet aviation, could have caused delayed damage to health.
Blankenberg was descending in his capsule. After a close rupture of the same PL-270, launched by the air combat aircraft of "@enemy", Blankenberg's raider extended another two hundred and fifty kilometers, entering the protected space of the distant vicinity of the rocket site - the damaged aircraft was redirected to one of the NaAmF RFR bases located in the sector.
At first, everything was not so bad - the fire of the first engine was extinguished, but then a dangerous vibration appeared in the third. The computer saw in this a danger of compressor destruction.
By minimizing the air supply and turning off the engine, the artificial intelligence was able to reduce the vibration level, but then the temperature of the coolant began to rise in the fourth. This did not cause much surprise - the aircraft caught most of the fragments with its lower part, where the engine nacelle and weapons compartments were located. Fortunately, by the time the link was leaving the long-range attack, all their own weapons had been fired at the arsenals. On the final leg of the damaged machine's flight, the main electrical system failed. The computer came to the conclusion that it was pointless to wait for new input, gave a sound signal and separated the capsule with the pilot from the machine. The separation occurred at an altitude of twelve thousand feet and a speed of just under five hundred knots. The plane, having said goodbye to the pilot, flew surprisingly smoothly for about half a minute, then finally lost speed, fell onto its starboard side and went down.
Now the altitude was a couple of thousand feet above ground level. On the left side, black smoke was visible, rising above a blindingly white field - this was his plane.
From the right side, a village with a network of its streets was clearly visible. Apparently, the capsule was being carried there. In general, when he was still in the plane, he tried to avoid populated areas, but here he no longer controlled anything. - I hope I don't land on the roof of some house, - Blankenberg thought to himself - and this is that same Super Federation with its thugs.
As luck would have it, the wind persistently dragged the capsule towards the village, towards its very center. Soon it became possible to see brick houses, definitely northern, roughly made outbuildings, very high fences. Judging by the navigation, this was the left-bank part of the Super Federation.
Luckily, the capsule did not land on the roof of one of the houses - it plopped down in the middle of a snow-covered area, probably a vegetable garden. The snow, a meter thick, which had definitely dampened the landing, turned into a white shroud - such was the effect of the braking solid-fuel engine, which slowed the descent when there were only a few meters left to the ground.
The engine shot off and flew off to the side along with the slings. The shroud dissipated. The parachutes fell and covered part of the field, the fence, and partly hung on the electric poles that stood along the street.
The electrical system of the capsule itself worked until the very end and continued to work on the ground, providing navigation and emergency communications. Be that as it may, this landing was much better than plopping down on the same capsule in the middle of the ocean. Inflatable cylinders were provided for that case. They were now inflated as planned.
Blankenberg pulled the orange lever located under the instrument panel and the glazing smoothly went up - the mechanism for lifting the glazing also worked properly.
Blankenberg breathed in the frosty air and glanced at the instrument panel. The interlink had been blocked the moment the capsule separated. The communications node was still in operation and had already automatically sent the coordinates. It was necessary to confirm the landing via the voice channel, which Blankenberg did. There was no response from the dispatcher, although there were more than enough available satellites. Now the capsule had turned into a very expensive telephone booth, although in the middle of the ocean it would have been an invaluable means of salvation, no joke.
Blankenberg glanced to the left - two small ones, about twelve or fourteen years old, were making their way through the snow towards the cabin.
- I wonder if they will be able to say anything or will we have to explain ourselves with gestures, - he thought.
Finally, the operator's voice sounded in the headphones. He was laconic - he said Blankenberg's call sign and said that the evacuation team was preparing to take off. They had to evacuate not only the pilot himself, but also the capsule - for that there was a quadrocopter with the appropriate cargo handling devices. Blankenberg began to mentally figure out how they would take him away - would they land in the vegetable garden or would they prefer to lift him up with a winch.
Meanwhile, the children had made their way through the snow and were already standing in front of the cabin.
Blankenberg moved his visor, made the friendliest face possible and clearly said:
- "Allied Forces".
He also showed off a chevron with an American flag. In general, it was obvious that he was not the pilot of "@enemy".
- Mister pilot! Wow! - finally said the one who was taller and, one must assume, older. His mouth, like the second one, was wide open with joy.
Without wasting unnecessary words, Blankenberg announced:
- I am a pilot of the coalition forces, Major Blankenberg of the US Air Force. My plane was hit about two hundred kilometers from here. I continued the flight, but did not make it to the base.
- What is your name? - the younger one said with an expected accent.
The first one, who started the conversation, stood silently and stared at the device on which Blankenberg landed.
Everything became clear - although they could say something in English, they did not understand his speech at all. The conclusion was that they had to speak more slowly.
Mister, look! - said the older one and showed the phone clutched in his hand.
After that, he began to babble something into it in Russian. At first Blankenberg decided that he was calling his rescue service, but it turned out that the kid had come up with something better. Having spoken into the phone, he extended it to Blankenberg as far as he could - the pillow that had inflated upon landing, one of the pillows, was in the way. Nevertheless, it was possible to hear the voice from the phone. - We saw your plane go down, mister. We also saw your parachutes open and we knew then that everything was fine. Do you need to call for someone to come get you? If so, call. We also have an uncle at the front. On the African front.
Blankenberg nodded, then gestured with his index finger as best he could to make it clear that he was about to do something. Meanwhile, he reached for his shin pocket, where his knife was. A few seconds later, he was already ripping open the inconvenient airbag.
Do you no longer need your cabin? - He heard a voice from the phone as he rolled over the side into a snowdrift.
- Transport will arrive soon and take it away from here, - he answered, reluctantly testing the deep, almost waist-deep snow with his foot. The phone did not hear and he had to repeat it a second time, this time into the device that was extended almost right up to him.
Meanwhile, several more people were making their way to the cabin. They were already adults.
- Mister, you don't have to take the cockpit? If you don't need it, - the phone said again.
- Blankenberg, a little stunned by this approach, looked first at the parachutes hanging on the fence and poles, then at the adults awkwardly making their way.
- Do you want this for yourself? - He asked, holding back his laughter.
- Is it possible?
- Unfortunately, you can't. There is secret interlink equipment and pyrobolts in there. It's almost like explosives.
In response to the puzzled question that followed, he began to explain how ejection using a seat works and how dangerous it is. Then it suddenly dawned on him that there was a way to get rid of it easily and gracefully, and he climbed back into the cabin to get the emergency rations.