That was two years ago, and that memory faded as the jet sounds did here at Sochi-Adler. I am part of the 503rd Special Air Warfare Regiment. It is not a Regiment like the other ones, but it is what is termed ‘composite’ meaning we are attached to other units, much like the Army Operational Maneuver Group. We are task specific, and do not stay at a particular airfield. We train most of the time, and get more flight time than most experienced pilots in the VVS. Support does come from the unit we are attached to, as a modern fighter is very hard to maintain, and the Regiment is not as large to have organic assets necessary for modern combat. Which is why I am here at Sochi-Adler, providing surgical strike capabilities for the 586th GvIAP while they engage the Turkish, and IRLF forces in Georgia. Yes, there are Georgian Su-25s near Guadata with the Canadians, but however, they are Close Air Support, and very limited, even though they can carry some manner of precision weapons.
One thing you will realize when standing in the hangar where are two aircraft is the color scheme. It is subdued, and is very dirty through hard use. The canopy has been tinted, much like the F-16, which it was inspired from. Me and my wingman, are the “Wolves” of the Regiment, or “Dancers” We get the “Dancers” because we do not dance at the Bolshoi, but I saw some Japanese one time, and one of the persons with such symbol explained to me it meant “Persevering Dance.” I have applied it on my aircraft, but Dimitri, my wingman, does not believe in such a thing, yet I persevere with such a symbol. We are not required to have the numbers on the aircraft, and never will. I do not like such a thing, and on a subdued aircraft, it is not appropriate. The gray Russian stars will tell people enough.
Sochi-Adler Airbase
18:03 Local, 27 JUN 05
The day was quiet, except for the rumble of the jet fighters and various other aircraft at the airfield. It was starting to get dark, and it was stuffy in my flight suit, as I stood in front of the control tower, smoking a cigarette. I watched as two 586th GvIAP Fulcrums taxi by, the Ukrainian splinter camouflage bright even in the early evening. They were quite an experienced unit, if experience means surviving a campaign for a few weeks. The situation was not getting better, but it is a test of the skills of this unit. What is amazing they have a female in the unit. She has flown A-10, F-16 and does not come back embarrassing herself. Of course females in the Rodina’s Air Force is not new, but there is a stigma around here as I have walked around. The male pilots constantly talk about how she is stuck up, a “frigid bitch”. I do agree, but also comrades, it is a matter of having to constantly prove yourself amongst your peers you are capable. I should know.
A few minutes later, Dimitri appeared out of the door.
“It is a nice night no?” He said, cupping the cigarette, lighting it quickly, then stuffing the lighter in his flight suit. He smiled, then looked eastward, at the mountain range. “Nice night for flying, you agree Comrade?”
Taking a drag of mine, I nodded in silent assent. There was a lot on my mind tonight. I alone must perform a mission of great importance tonight, yet, I do not know what it is yet.
“Do you know what is planned tonight Alex Emenivich?” Dimitri asked, as if reading my mind.
“I do not know Dimitiri Genedevich…”
I thought as I looked at the MiGs ready on the runway. Ten seconds later they took off, the roar of the afterburner. I caught the weapons hanging on the wings. R-27s and R-60s. Another Combat Air Patrol for the night. Perhaps they will down some more Turkish F-16s, or Phantoms of the IRLF. Either way, it will make my mission, whatever it is, much easier tonight. I shook my head to myself, and silently headed inside.
The sound of a war echoed from the Ops room, as planners of all ranks planned and executed on behalf of the Rodina. I caught a couple Americans looking my way. Perhaps they were also CIA, which would not surprise me. I nonchalantly headed to the briefing room, awaiting Major Grachev, our commander who was the liaison to the 586th.
After a short wait, Major Grachev entered the room. I immediately snapped to attention, with Dimitri in tow. Dimitri moved to his chair, and Major Grachev nodded. I sat down, and adjusted my seat. Dimitri leaned in.
“Comrade, after this we must hurry, that female pilot is going to the city, perhaps you can try and get with her nyet? It beats the prostitutes you normally hang out with.” A smile crossed his lips, and I let him know he was Number 1 with my middle finger as Grachev cleared his throat to get our attention.
“Comrades, I must wish you a good evening today, for we are about to test all the training we have done the past months.” He opened a laptop, no doubt found on the black market, and hooked it up to a projector, no doubt also from the same place. He typed in his password, and he brought up the program. As soon as he started, an American captain walked in, flight suit and all.
“You must excuse me gentlemen, this is Captain Dave Westerson. He flies the A-10, and is going to be your rescuing party, should it be needed….” He smiled evilly at Alexsei. The Lietenant was an admirable person, but he liked giving him trouble. It kept him on his toes.“Please sit down, and we will begin.”
