“Do you see him, Vasily? Where is he?”
“I have lost him, we were with our heads in the clouds too long…wait, is that a wing? Right side, Sacha, fast, he is there, descending in a left turn away from us.”
“Can you get a radar lock?”
“Nyet. This Turk is good.”
Vasily is switching channels to call the Orel, the FSB destroyer nearby. Perhaps, if there are survivors, we will learn from these IRLF cowards. But for now, our fuel is running low and Sevastopol, a warm cup of coffee and hot lunch, await us.