Chapter 900: Western Front Crisis
The brilliant sunlight reflected off the azure sea, lending it a charm all its own.
With fair winds and bright skies, and a windfall about to fall into his hands, Colonel Richard was in exceptionally high spirits.
Drawing on years of experience, he had noticed early on that there was something wrong with the ship ahead. When he tried pursuing it, its true colors were promptly revealed.
Ordinary merchant ships would likewise keep their distance upon encountering the Royal Navy on the high seas, but no matter how desperately they fled, they would not start dumping their cargo into the ocean just to get away.
The Royal Navy might have a history of moonlighting as pirates, but that was all in the past. In recent years, they had reined themselves in considerably.
Even if they intended to rob someone, they would disguise themselves. While flying the naval flag, at most they would extort a protection fee.
Those with connections and backing could pull some strings and get a discounted rate. As long as the money was in place, even smuggling could be overlooked.
The Fulda's behavior was practically shouting that there was silver buried right here. Fools this blatant were rare these days, and Colonel Richard naturally had no intention of letting one slip away.
The officer in charge of signal flags said excitedly, "Colonel, we've encountered Vittorio Emanuele III. He's aboard the warship ahead and has already identified himself."
To capture the fleeing Vittorio Emanuele III, the London Government had gone all out. The Royal Navy had practically deployed its entire fleet.
Though it could not exactly be called an arrest. After all, he was a king, and John Bull had to consider international repercussions. Thus, the Royal Navy's mission was to invite him