[b]Malmen Airbase[/b]

It had been a couple hours since the General had left and an unusual nighttime rain had hit the airbase. The prototype was on the black new tarmac outside of the R&D hangers when the skies darkened and the rain started so bringing it into the corrugated metal hanger was easy enough. Dolf watched from underneath the hanger overhang as the plane was pulled towards the hanger by a small orange tug. The headlights flashed across Dolfs face for a moment and he winced before the tug straightened out from the adjustment and carefully lead the plane in. The rain was a drizzle for now but Dolf expected that it would get worse as the night went on. Even thought it was difficult to see in the dark the distant blinks of lightning divulged that this would be an unusually large storm. 

Turning to go inside where the plane had come to rest Dolf nearly crashed into a man of small stature with comically thick glasses that made his eyes seem larger than they were. Dolf jerked back for a moment, hand moving to his sidearm and then quickly realized that the man in front of him was simply his head engineer Alexander Ekbald. His hand arrested its motion and Dolf breathed in slowly, Alexander quickly sputtered, “Oh! Uh… Eh… Sir I’m so sorry sir!

Dolf put one hand on the shorter man’s shoulder and with the other then gestured to go inside as he responded, now calm, “No problem Alexander, just try not to sneak up on me like that again, or really try not to sneak up on anyone with a gun. Anyway you have something for me Alexander?” 

Alexander walked inside as he was instructed and glanced back at the worsening storm and the now audible yet distant thunder. With a cough and an apparent correction of his posture Alexander began in a more clear voice, “I have news on the tests we did earlier today, the fighter is around where we expected on roll speed but it demonstrated a turn radius that we found lacking. Now that wasn’t unexpected but I have an idea on how to cut the turn radius by a bit with a minor adjustment to the wings.”

Dolf looked away from Alexander and towards the plane before inquiring, “You’re sure this would work? You have done a preliminary test on one of the models right?”

Alexander responded a bit nervously, “I did do the preliminary test but I… I can’t be sure that it would truly work, as you know the model does not always translate perfectly and-“

Dolf cut Alexander off by saying, “Do it then, we have only a month and a half left before we hit the deadline for the budget this year. It has been 12 years that I have been here, since this program started Alexander. While I might be in charge now I was a pilot then and I now I run a division, in that time I learned one thing Alexander. If you don’t get results you don’t get funding. So get it done and do it right, before you know it we will be either short even more money or starting mass production.” Dolf was ready to shake Alexander’s hand and head to his office but something else hit his thoughts and he continued, “By the way Alexander have you and your team given it a name yet? It’s been years and you are running out of time to make your mark on history there.”

Alexander responded a tad more confidently, “The team agreed a while ago we want to see if we can name it the Sol Fågel, if that is ok with you sir?”

Dolf scratched his head and then responded, “Sun Bird? Makes enough sense, sounds nice. I’ll do what I can to see that’s what we call it in the end.” Dolf then shook Alexander’s hand and started to walk to the other side of the hanger where his office was located on several metal stilts and a small staircase. Dolf looked back for a moment and called, “And Alexander! Tell your team they do good work.”

[b]Stockholm Sweden, Next Day[/b]

Birgit Walked out onto the balcony of the Statehouse, his government provided residence for the time he was elected. The balcony had originally been fitted with bulletproof glass and was more of a greenhouse then a place to watch the city. Of course this was not only an apt comparison but a literal fact considering the last president’s wife used it for exactly that purpose. Birgit had the glass removed, much to his body guard’s distaste, a week after having won the election. 

Resting his hands on the thick, dark and intricately carved wood railing Birgit looked out over the river toward the Riksdag and the royal palace, both firmly in his view. Perhaps it was symbolic that a grander building had been built on the other side of the river than the royal palace in the aftermath of the great change of 1931, and perhaps it was also symbolic that the island that the Riksdag was built on was the dominating feature of the view from the balcony. Birgit however was not the president that this symbolism was supposed to appeal to. He hated the decadent palace of a house he lived in and even more he hated that he had to look at the Riksdag from here. He spent enough time there regularly, hell to him it seemed that he spent every day there. 

Turning around Birgit walked back into the house, as he was on the second floor he could look down from the walkway he was on past the lavish chandeliers and marble stairs to the main floor below. Save a few guards the house seemed empty as ever. His wife was likely still in bed so Birgit decided to get into his suit and go to a small café not far from the Statehouse. Sadly this involved walking some distance to the monstrosity of a closet that housed his suits, another downside to the intolerable building he lived in. Once he had gotten there he simply grabbed one of the four suits he owned in the expansive room that was designed to house hundreds. Birgit was tightening his it when he noticed how empty of a room this was, an unusual sight as most of the walls were covered in portraits and masterpieces. It would have been nice had the room not reminded him of the office he had to visit the day prior. 

Making his way down the stairs Brigit encountered one of his guards. A man of tough demeanour with a brown beard and hard brown eyes the guard was certainly an intimidating sight. However over the years Birgit had come to know the man as an outdoorsman with an affinity for fishing, though he rarely killed the fish he caught. The guard spoke up as Brigit reached the last stair, “The café sir?”

Birgit chuckled and responded, “Quite right there, how did you know this time?”

The guard following Birgit responded, “It’s always the café after you spend some time brooding on the balcony.”

Birgit smiled and said in a jovial tone as he stopped at the door, “If only I could read the sharks I deal with so well.”

The guard laughed and replied as he opened the front door and let Birgit out of the house, “If you could sir you would have to be one of them.”

The two stopped the conversation and continued down the sidewalk, Birgit occasionally waving at passerby’s as he walked down the old stonework sidewalk. The statehouse loomed in the background even after Birgit had made some distance from it. Still the well decorated and vibrant rightly packed shops and houses was something that Birgit always enjoyed on these walks, a reminder of the people he was to represent, even considering how he came to represent them. 

Eventually Birgit and his guard came to the café he enjoyed so much, approaching the counter the old lady that manned the cashing punched something in and spoke, “Decafe coffee today sir?”

Birgit responded, “Well it seems my pattern is a tad obvious today so how about this, a normal black coffee.”

The lady typed a few things in and said, “Ok sir, as always a minute.”

Birgit walked to the side and sat in a small metal chair while his guard sat opposite around a small metal table with a mosaic top depicting the Swedish flag. Birgit looked up and admired the woodwork roof before speaking up, “It’s nice to be out on such a nice day, if nothing else my wife certainly finds it nice to have a break from me, however much she disagrees with me being out among the people.”

The guard looked up and asked cautiously, “Not to pry sir but things are ok?”

Birgit sighed and responded, “You’re not prying. I imagine it’s been a bit obvious recently, she things I have been working too much, I guess it is true since I come to her all day long with whatever obscene issue I have to fix and of course my argument with my own party on reopening trade with the North Finns. I hardly speak to her save about my work.”

The guard responded in a more direct way, “You do work too hard sir, the people love you for it but the last time you took a vacation it was to celebrate winning the election.”

Birgit responded, “It seems so.”

It was clear he had more to say but to woman at the desk yelled out, “Your drink is ready sir!” Cutting Birgit’s thoughts short.