SimHQ.com - Air Combat Zone - Feature: Kiss Me, Kislovodsk

Every once in awhile an IRLF F-4E attempts to ambush a flight. They usually fly at low level and wait like Piranhas. Intel thinks they are doing that because of my actions. I have dealt some large blows, and the prize of me getting shot down would nonetheless bolster their campaign. Perhaps I have a price on my head? However, we have an A-50 and E-3A on near constant patrol, based in Russia. So they have no way of sneaking up on us, combined with regular combat air patrols. I have encountered one of these, on a mission south of Teberda. I was attacking a suspected munitions dump. As I entered the valley heading south, Overlord called a distance of only 10 kilometers. I fly with my radar off, and I got lucky his tail was pointed towards me. It took one AMRAAM to bring him down. He had no room to maneuver. It flew true into his tail, severing the rear fuselage, and the pilots had no time to eject. Luckily it crashed into a river, and not killed any civilians!

"Pavel?" My father had finished his cigarette, and I was staring at an empty apron. I shook myself.

"I am fine father, I was recounting an engagement."

"I see, your eyes show it. Come, it is time we go to your room. I trust you maintain your bottle of vodka as well as your aircraft?"

Like father, like son, it is a matter of Russian pride to drink vodka. It stings, but it is an acquired taste. I nodded in agreement.

"Da father, we can go."

I let security know I was leaving, and we walked together to the UAZ, my father climbing in the passenger seat. Leave it to him. Then again, I am not only his son, but also a junior officer. Generals do not drive Lieutenants around. I bit my annoyance, and climbed in the drivers seat, started the vehicle up, then drove to the barracks building. I parked it near a US Air Force Humvee. The Humvee, while better looking, still was a "bare necessities" vehicle like the UAZ. It must be, since you have to manufacture so many, and allows one user to instantly be acquainted with the vehicle no matter where it is. I got out instantly, and walked to the other side and opened the door for my father. While they may not drive for lower ranking personnel, it is not above them to get out on their own. My father is old, so I must be an officer and a son at the same time. Though I think Sgt. Gennedy is rubbing off on me, I am becoming more like the enlisted. Which comrades, is not a bad thing. I have seen many pilots have "mechanical failures" because of improper attitudes towards their support crews. You are just the user, they are the maintainers. If you treat them like dirt, they will hold you in contempt, and perhaps a "mechanical failure" will become fatal, intended or otherwise. You treat them like men, but still be firm, then they will lift an engine by themselves, rather than use lifting equipment. I escorted my father proudly into the barracks. I do not talk too much to the other people, especially when dealing with personal matters. I do not let the fact my father is a General determine my career. Yes, I do use it to my advantage when necessary, but no more than that. Then I will be less respected by my peers. True, if they do not like you, then so be it, but only a small percentage, not everyone.

I guided my father to my room, oblivious to the various reactions of a General with me. I laughed inside at what their thoughts may be. Let them wonder some more, they probably wonder about me alot anyway. I took off the coveralls, excused myself, and took a shower. It is rude to have a guest and not be clean, or at least smelling normal. Besides, it makes you feel better nyet? I finished, and put on some civilian clothes. My father was standing in the main room, looking at the photographs I had managed to acquire. Some were of the airbase, and some where gun camera footage. The air to air engagement described above was one of them, when the AMRAAM struck the rear of the tail, that exact moment. I only wish some of these photographs I could openly show, but I was authorized to have them at least in the barracks room. Not many visit so it is no problem. My father has more than likely seen the gun camera footage anyway. It does not matter, he has the authorization, even President Putin has probably seen them, or somebody in Moscow has. We sat down, and started on the bottle. Then came the question I had hoped he would not ask, but knew he would anyway. He is my father no?

"So Pavel, enough about the military, how many women have you seen out here?"

"Only a few father."

I tried to dodge this one as long as possible, but vodka also loosens your mouth.

"Only a few! Pavel! What have you been waiting for! Tell me, have you decided to marry yet?"

"Nyet father, I have not found the right woman. I am at war, not back in Zhukovsky."

"Yeah yeah, I was in Afghanistan, and met this woman, and she is your mother. We were at the same airbase. I did always not have war on my mind son."

He smiled devilishly. He did have a point. But I did not worry about relationships too much. But this Sacha kept sticking in my head. Then he must have read my mind.

"What about this Sacha? You have talked to her yes?"

Damn!

"Da father, only had lunch once, but we are too busy to start a relationship, and we exactly do not find the time either. Neither of us are not in love father."

This part was true. The life of a fighter pilot in war was personal life, missions, maintenance, planning. Priority was not in any particular order. At least he nodded in agreement to that, along with a grunt. He himself was a combat pilot, so he would understand that.

"Well son, she certainly looks attractive, much like your mother when she was young."

My father sobered up. The issue of my mother was a sad one. She was killed in a car accident in St. Petersburg while on vacation. Which is why my father's health wasn't too good. He was there. Poor mother, her first and last trip to that grand city. We both sat in silence for a long time, each of us sipping on our vodka, relishing or recounting various thoughts or memories. Then my father broke the silence by standing up. I looked at him, expecting something. He looked at me knowingly, then walked out.

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