Penguins of Anarchy

Five

Hours later, with the sun glaring into the cockpit, the stolen American helicopter thumped toward the main landmass of Antarctica, which had just come in sight.

The radio in the cockpit crackled.  "Unidentified aircraft, please identify yourself."

"This is Dracken1, flying a hijacked FH-4ASM; requesting clearance for landing at Aurora Base."

"Uh, sir, did you say Dracken1?" the penguin on the radio asked.

"Yes I did; do I have clearance?"

"Sir, are you aware that Dracken1 has been dead for twenty-five years?  I'm afraid we'll have to bring out a couple of fighter jets to escort you to the base, and then we'll have to ask you some questions."

Great, so the world thinks I'm dead.  "I copy, Base."  Drake called to Dreemo and Sam, "Hey boys, I don't think they trust us since I gave them my real name, so I suggest that you remove yourselves from the gunner seats."

"Hey, look at that!" Felly exclaimed.  Ahead, on the coast of the main landmass, was the military headquarters known as Aurora Base.  Anti-aircraft artillery surrounded the perimeter of the base, and square concrete buildings dotted the interior.  But what was most spectacular was the translucent, luminescent blue dome covering the entire headquarters.  It was an electromagnetic field generated by a ten-foot-tall projector at the center of the base; any enemy vehicle that tried to fly or drive through it immediately went dead as soon as it touched the field.  However, vehicles could emerge from the field without harm if they came from the inside.

The two green fighter jets appeared out of the electromagnetic field, zoomed past the helicopter, and then arced back around, flying parallel to the heli's flanks.  "We'll take you in, but don't try any funny business," one of the fighter pilots said over the radio.

"Doesn't sound like they like us at all," Felly mumbled.

The jets led them up to the EM field, and then rotated their twin roaring engines so that they pointed toward the sky, causing the aircraft to hover in place.  Drake's helicopter hovered alongside them.

"You have clearance for entering," the base's radio operator told Drake and the others.

The helicopter and jets passed through the field without harm, which prompted a question from Dreemo.  "Drake, why didn't we go dead?"

"They must have a computer connected to the shield generator that scanned us and programmed the EM field to let us through."

"Sweet."  Sam grinned.

The helicopter set down on a designated landing pad, and the open sides of the heli allowed Dreemo, Drake, Felly, and Sam to simply step out as a squadron of soldiers in green uniforms approached them.  The one in front appeared to be an officer in his forties.

"Bloody icicle!" a soldier exclaimed.  "It is him!"

The officer held up his flipper in a gesture for silence.  He faced Drake, who was in the lead, and held out his flipper.  "Colonel Fragnile233, at your service, sir."

Drake gingerly shook the flipper of the colonel, who had dark green skin and a black buzz cut.  "Charmed."

"Is this some kind of joke?" the colonel asked abruptly.  The alarmed look on Drake's face betrayed his nervousness.  The colonel felt prompted to explain.  "You're Dracken1, yes?"

"Yes, I am."  Drake's stiff body loosened slightly.  "I've just escaped from Waddle Island, which is under Martial Alliance control now, with my nephew and two of his friends."