After about an hour of watching the base with nothing out of the ordinary happening, he started to get impatient, wanting to sneak in and issue his call for help. Waiting out here was getting him nowhere and was just giving his enemies more time to organise themselves. Despite this, the little voice inside his head that he listened to more often than not, told him to remain patient and watch the base so, reluctantly, that's what he did.
An hour and a half later, his patience paid off. Three figures came outside together, one clearly issuing orders to the other two. In the hours that Flash had been watching the base, he'd seen only a handful of people outside it, and all of them had been on their own, doing the normal, day to day things that you would come to expect on a base like this. Three people together was suspicious, even without the information he possessed about there being that number of nagas on the base. Watching the three from his prone position on top of the outcrop, he noted they all wore different coloured clothing. One was dressed all in black, from his boots through to his leggings, up to and including his jacket, and it seemed appropriate that he was dishing out the orders. Of the other two, one wore a thick red jacket with silvery leggings and brown boots, while his friend carried off a light blue jacket with a fur lined hood, matching leggings and white snow boots. Currently, all three were crowded around a heavily packed skidoo. The leader, all in black, was still issuing instructions to the other two, getting quite animated about it as well, pointing in the direction that Flash had come from, before waving at the base itself. At this, the two figures in red and blue nodded, with one getting onto the front of the skidoo, while the other yanked the string to start the engine. Watching intently, Flash thought it looked as though the skidoo would be heading in his direction.
'They can't possibly know I'm here, can they?' he wondered, as the sound of the skidoo's harsh engine leapt into life, echoing across the snow in his direction.
Trying to ignore the thousand thoughts running amock inside his head, he scrambled back down the slope to the far side of the rocky outcrop. If the skidoo was headed this way, then almost certainly it would come within feet of where he was concealed. Did he try and take out whoever was on the skidoo as he came past? Did he sneak into the base and go for the leader? A lot rode on him making the right decision here and now. His little voice screamed at him to take out whoever was on the skidoo that was about to come past. Rushing around two huge boulders, climbing on top of the slightly smaller one, he waiting for the skidoo to come round the side of the outcrop. In theory at least, the machine and its rider should come within a few feet of his position. If not, then he would have to stay concealed and let it go on its way. Pulling in a wheezing breath, he hoped that the three nagas had been suckered into being over confident. After all, they should be searching for an exhausted, semi naked dragon with virtually no power, cold, hungry, utterly demoralised and, most importantly of all, a very long way from here. Only managing to get there so quickly because of the magical energy that he'd leeched from the dying naga, he was certain this was something his enemies should have absolutely no idea about.
'That,' he thought as he waited silently for the skidoo, 'should give me the advantage that I need against the three of them.'
Resounding across the ice, the noise from the skidoo's engine started to get closer. He knew what he had to do; he had to be totally and utterly ruthless and kill the driver. Of course, he'd killed in cold blood before, when the need had arisen. It wasn't something he particularly liked doing, unlike some in the Crimson Guards who seemed to get a kind of kick out of it. But it was something he knew that, on occasion, he had no option but to go through with. This was one of those times when nothing else would do, because he simply couldn't afford to leave one of the nagas alive. Too much depended on it. Taking them one at a time, with the amount of magical energy that currently topped up his body, should present little or no trouble. Of course he could, like most of the Crimson Guards, cast mantras that could kill instantly. They were amongst the most highly magical mantras in the dragon world, and were mana intensive, draining all but a little of the magical energy the caster possessed. Even in his highly charged state, he knew better than to begin with something so taxing, and figured on taking the first two down with his bare hands, thus saving the magic in case he needed it against the third.
The 'putt, putt, putt' of the skidoo's engine was nearly on top of him now. As he crouched, ready to jump and strike the naga at the controls, a flicker of movement appeared from around the rocky corner. His muscles contracted, ready to let loose. Rushing through at quite a speed, the skidoo presented little problem for Flash who was able to use all of his dragon abilities, and could time his jump to within a thousandth of a second if need be. At exactly the right moment, he launched himself off the rock, his timing perfect for making contact with the skidoo driver. However, as he soared through the air towards the fast moving machine, his brain registered an almighty problem with his plan. He'd made a big mistake, one that potentially could prove fatal. There, sitting right behind the naga driver in the red jacket, was his colleague in the all blue outfit, with the skidoo carrying two of the three nagas, not something he'd really wanted to find out as he was flying through the air towards the moving vehicle, if at all.
Instantly his brain reverted back to his body tumbling through the biting wind. Stretching out with his bent right arm, he took the driver around the neck as he swept in from above and to the side of the skidoo. Flash and the naga crashed to the ground as the pilotless vehicle made a sharp turn, too sharp in fact, as the driver's legs had smashed into the handlebars when he'd been dragged off into the snow. Rolling over onto itself, the heavy equipment pouches attached to either side of the skidoo spilled open, littering the freshly driven snow with their contents. With no time to think, Flash acted instinctively, leaping on top of the strewn driver, who was face down in the snow. Putting both hands around his chin, getting ready to twist his neck and break it, the driver, still with his helmet on, brought his head up faster than Flash could ever have anticipated, catching the dragon full in the chest. Flash fell to one side, winded momentarily. The red jacketed naga wasted no time. Rolling over, he thrust himself through the snow and on top of Flash, scraping a big handful of snow into Flash's face as he did so. Flash blinked furiously as the naga pounded on his already sore chest with his gloved fists.
Anger welled up inside him. It had all been going so well, and now... this! Red Jacket had managed to pin one of Flash's arms to the ground by the time he'd cleared the snow from his eyes, and had one arm around Flash's throat, while the other fended off the dragon's free arm. Something inside him snapped as his anger got the better of him. Over the last few seconds, he'd felt the overwhelming supply of magic call out to him, urging him to use it. As the helmeted attacker hovered over him, he caught his own reflection in the mirrored surface of the dark visor. Instantly Flash cast a silent mantra, designed to heat anything that he focused on and turn it molten in a matter of moments. Targeting his attacker's helmet as the hand around his throat tightened, darkness formed on the periphery of his vision. Abruptly he felt both his attacker's hands withdraw, so he used the moment to breathe deeply, instantly returning his vision to normal. Rolling off, his attacker landed in the soft unbroken snow with a thud, kicking and screaming, all the time clutching the smoking hot helmet that covered his head. Jumping to his feet, Flash kicked the attacker in the chest, forcing the wind out of him as the muffled screams echoed from inside the twisted headgear. Leaning over, he prepared to get a grip on the dark helmet with a view to breaking his attacker's neck.