How to rule a king

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AN: Here's a Christmas present for my fellow Austrian Isabella2282. Stay awesome, girl XOXO

Alexei:

If there had been a world record for the shortest time a human being ever needed to make it from the Arabic Emirates to the American east coast I would have bested it today. I had been in the middle of sealing a new shipping agreement with one of the Arabic oil moguls, a for once completely legal deal when Piotr had called. At first, I had considered not answering at all, but then again, Piotr had been on my side for nearly two decades now, he knew only to call when something very important came up. So, after an apologetic look and a quick excuse, both things my wife had deemed me to do, just as acting like a civilized man instead of a savage beast, I turned from the table to answer the call. Piotr, never being a man of many words, hadn't said much, yet what he said was enough to shatter my world into thousands of pieces.

They found us. Ronja's been hurt.

That has been all. Nothing else needed to be said. Afterwards, I had demanded him to immediately retreat back to the TITANIC PART II. and make way as fast as possible telling them I would take a chopper from Mexiko to join them. Thirty minutes later I sat at the Abu Dhabi airport leaving all of my luggage behind not taking anything but a suit bag holding Ronja's present, which I had just purchased yesterday, in it with me and duffle bag filled with my most personal belongings such as my laptop, blue prints, shippingplans, some extra money and creditcards, the passport I chose for this specifc mission, officallly making me Alonso Santa Cruz, a 31-year-old Mexican enterpreteur, the picture my son had drawn me before I had left a couple of days ago as well as a sweater of mine Ronja liked to wear. I admit I held it to my face as I slept last night. What else was a sleep-deprived man who couldn't sleep without his wife to do?

Waiting for my flight to finally call the passengers to boarding was an excruciating slow activity as nobody seemed in the mood for hurrying and in this very moment I was even somewhat glad about not being allowed to bring a gun on board. Otherwise, I would have arrived in Cancun with a few extra bodies to dispose of. Flying first class wasn't nearly as comfortable as having your own jet, allowing you to change seats whenever you wish, to lie down in bed, to take a bath or to do whatever else made you happy, but instead had left me to deal with sitting next to an annoying man, demanding to know how someone with my appearance could pay for a first class seat. If it hadn't been for Ronja needing me as soon as I could possibly get to her I would have strangled the man, Bernd Neustätter as he introduced himself with a weak handshake, with my bare hands. But my wife needed me right now and so I couldn't waste time being held up by the police for murdering a completely unimportant man.

After a short flight in the chopper being part of the TITANIC PART II.'s equipment, as I had had one of my soldiers pick me up from the airport to get me straight back to my wife, I had finally arrived on board of the superyacht. Although I had been completely exhausted from my travels lying down to close my eyes for even just a few minutes had been the last thing on my mind. I dropped my duffle back as well as the suit bag in the soldier's arms commanding him to bring them to my private quarters as I headed straight to the med bay, straight to were I suspected my wife to be. As I had run down various corridors on different decks on board to get to my destination I realized just how bad the attack must have been as all my men had been armed to their teeth and everybody seemed to be up and about occupying themselves with some important tasks. Somehow I still managed to great the soldiers I met on the way dipping my head to show them my gratitude for their work.

When I had finally pushed the doors leading to the med bay open I was provided with a horrible sight. Nearly all of the fifteen beds were occupied by my soldiers, some more gravely wounded as others, yet all looking completely exhausted. The quiet chatter which had filled the air had died down the moment I stepped into the room as the men seemed to expect me to say something to them. They expected me to say something encouraging when I was completely at loss for words. I had nothing to say to them. No way to express my gratitude for saving my wife. My wife. Ronja. Where was she? Looking around, I couldn't find her anywhere. Why wasn't she here? Piotr said she was hurt, so why wasn't she at med bay being treated right now? Had something even worse happened to her? Something must have happened, otherwise, she would be here. Wouldn't she?