Russia

© 2015 DELTA X3

-7 May 2022

It wasn’t until the frigid Russian breeze hit him that he realized just how tired and sore he was. Seeking refuge from the cold he ducked into a store just across the street where he was to meet Leonid.

The thought of what happened last night was still fresh in his mind as he meandered about the store. He thought about how he had just last night made love to a soviet era MI-24 Gunship helicopter named Anya. The miracle of these living machines was not lost on him but, she was something special. Not only that but, last night the bond had been created between the two, the fabled “connection’ that signified an unquestionable compatibility between the two entities. Now they would have a heightened sense of one another and a constant longing for their companion when apart. He hoped that what he had heard of it wasn’t true, that it was unbreakable. It would have to would wear off after a while, he wasn’t going to be in Russia forever, his rotation would end at the close of the year and he would be shipped to his next post in another country.

He hardly noticed the group of men with large duffel bags that walked through the store and into a back room, he did however notice the man who at the back. All he caught was the Aeroflot Airlines jacket and the faded gray ball cap. Chase recalled that Leonid worked for Aeroflot, ground guiding planes on the runway and he often wore a hat like that. The man’s build was right and he walked with the same hardly noticeable limp favoring his right leg which Leonid had always credited to “the war.”

Chase was about to discount this as a coincidence when he heard three muffled the thumps come from the back room. The sounds went unnoticed to the rest of the occupants but Chase had the feeling it wasn’t simply boxes falling off a shelf. He considered the possibility of it being just his over active imagination but against his best judgment he decided to investigate. Maybe it would satisfy his curiosity. He moved to the back door, looked through the small circular window and saw nothing. He checked around him to make sure no one was watching then cautiously pushed the door open and proceed into the cramped stock room.

He continued into the dimly lit room moving between storage shelves until his foot ran into something soft. “Leonid!” Chase exclaimed, taking a knee next to him. He had a stream of blood sweeping between his fingers staining a large patch of the gray shirt under his jacket.

“What the hell is going on, who shot you?” he started to move in to assess his injuries. There were two gunshot wounds to the chest and a single shot to the upper part of his right arm. The arm was a clean through-and-through but the between the heavy bleeding and Leonid’s wheezing breaths Chase could tell the chest wounds were a real problem. Chase tried to start pulling away the tattered cloth but Leonid pushed his hands away “There’s no time” Leonid said his teeth clenched from the pain, a faint hue of red on his lips “You have to stop those men.”

“What are you talking about what’s going on?”

“I’m FSB.” Leonid said a raspy cough, bring up even more blood.

“You’re Russian Intelligence?” this caught Chase completely off guard.

“Chase you have to listen to me those men are part of a Chechnya partisan group, they are terrorists. They’re going to use a bomb at the parade.”

“Don’t you have back up?”

“Damn it Chase they won’t be here in time, we’re talking about minutes here. You have to stop them.” Leonid reached in his jacket and removed a FN 5.7 pistol “Take this.” Chase was still trying to get a grasp on what was going on “People will die!” Leonid barked.

Reluctantly chase took hold of the gun. “Also, take this” Leonid tore a section of his jacket, removing a button that trailed wires followed by a small device. “Record what happens here, it will be the only thing to keep you out of prison and show Russia what happened. Now go, I’ll be fine.” Chase knew Leonid didn’t even believe that, there was a good chance he had a collapsed lung and he had already lost a lot of blood which was evident from the pool of blood that had begun to accumulate around him. Chase stuck the button cam in the lapel hole on his overcoat and trailed the wires to the internal pocket then nodded. He didn’t want to leave his friend here sitting there bleeding on the floor but if what he was saying was true time was not on his side.

He realized just how little he actually knew about Leonid, what if he was a terrorist and he ended up shooting an actual FSB agent, his involvement in this could spark an international incident on an epic scale, especially in the current uneasy relations between America and Russia. But why would a terrorist be using a hidden camera, terrorist groups normally had a camera crew following them for this kind of thing. He looked down at the tiny device. It was definitely agency grade, not some backwater terrorist trash or an online spy shop product. This put his mind a little at ease but all the possibilities concerned him. He came to his feet and moved toward the door at the back of the room.

He proceeded through the door gun raised as he entered the hallway noticing three spend 9mm casings on the floor. The hallway made a 90 degree turn to the right a few meters down. He slowly approached the corner, keeping his weapon up, careful not to expose his muzzle he rounded the corner. The first thing he saw was a man standing at the end of the hallway with his back to him. He couldn’t make much out but the noticeable bulge under his jacket which most likely indicated he was wearing some kind of body armor. Chase pulled back the pistols slide a few millimeters seeing that there was a round in the chamber. Seeing the tail end of a shell casing he let it go and got ready.

In his head this is how it would go. He would slowly sneak up behind the man, put the muzzle of the pistol to the back of his head, inform him if he desired to keep the number of holes in his head from increasing he would remain quiet and do exactly as he said. He would make him show his hands, put him on the ground, restrain him, quick search then have a little Q&A session. Nobody dead, no shots fired and maybe some of the dozens of questions swimming around in his head answered. It couldn’t go wrong until it did. His pant leg got caught on a paint roller sitting on a can in the hallway, knocking it to the ground. The sound wasn’t very loud but loud enough to get the target’s attention.

The first thing he saw as man swung around was the unmistakable muzzle of an AK-74 assault rifle. Things seemed to go into slow motion. If he fired there could be consequences, if he chose not to fire he could be dead within seconds. The pistol bucked as it sent the first round down range. The high velocity 5.7mm bullet cut straight through the Kevlar vest, the deformed slug shifting direction as it reached the soft tissues, slicing through vital organs and lodging itself in the shoulder blade. Chase squeezed the trigger three more times, all rounds impacting center mass.

That was it. He had irreversibly involved himself in Russian affairs and in no small way. If he was on the wrong side of this when the dust settled this could cause more trouble between the US and Russia than any diplomat could ever resolve and land him in the basement of some unmarked FSB building, never to see the light of day again. The man fell backward into a pile on the floor dead in seconds. Chase heard scuffling in the room ahead, no doubt the man’s accomplices. He hurried to the threshold.

As he to the doow he heard the familiar “click clack” of a shotgun. Hardly having time to react to the threat he dived through the doorway just as the open door next to him erupted in dust and shredded shards of wood. Another “click clack” and all the papers on the desk between him and the shotgun were turned into confetti. The flash of what he was able to see before diving for his life was a poorly lit room, the few remaining florescent bulbs flickered leaving the room mostly dark between the flickers giving the run down room a horror film feel. The room was populated by rows of desks and filing cabinets showing decades of neglect, a portrait of Stalin still hanging on the wall.

As he hit the ground he could he could see the outline of a foot under the rows of desks. Without hesitation he fired three quick shots at ground level. He heard a scream of agony as they tore through the leather boot and into the assailant’s foot. The man hit the ground and chase hit him with another two to the torso.

Chase attempted to stand and assess the situation but was quickly forced back to the ground as the clatter of a sub machine gun pock marked the wall behind him. Chase stuck the pistol over the desk top and blindly fired five rounds back. The sub machine gun in turn returned a short burst.

Again the gunner sprayed a barrage of fire in Chase’s direction. He got an idea, a very unorthodox idea but it had worked in a movie. Slowly and silently he moved back into the hall and grabbed the dead man’s collar, dragging him back into the room. Another burst came from the other side of the room this time from a second gun, another burst following from the first. No doubt they were going to try to flank him, he had to hurry. He put the AK sling around the man’s mid-section and heaved him up. He hooked the sling on the top shelf of a filing cabinet effectively propping him upright. It looked absurd but it should serve the purpose. Chase grabbed the grip of the rifle and let off a few shots, the muzzle flashes hopefully giving the opposition the position of where he wanted them to believe he was. Creeping back under a desk he waited, watching the beams of their flashlights flick off as the pair began their flanking maneuver one going around to the left, the other to Chase’s right.

He could faintly hear their footsteps as they approached. The pair stopped then together jumped around the corner. They saw the target and began to spray the decoy with bullets. Chase leveled the pistol at the far man and pulled the trigger. A clean head shot, dead before he hit the floor. The near man was quick to turn around and chase had no time to adjust his aim. He sprung out of hiding driving his shoulder into the man’s rib cage, knocking him off his feet and sending his weapon flying over the desk. Chase followed him to the ground. He tried to line up a shot but the assailant took hold of his firing hand, pushing the gun outward. They fought for control of the firearm discharging a round into the wall. His opponent kicked off the wall rolling the two over. Chase was now underneath him, exactly where he didn’t want to be. Still struggling for the weapon with one hand he used his other to deliver a powerful punch to Chase’s side. Chase grunted as he hit him a second time. Chase freed his other hand from between the two of them and landed a blow to the man’s temple stunning him for a split second. He then followed with a strike to his jaw.

He was still fighting to get the gun into position to put an end to this little scuffle but his opponent wasn’t making it easy. Another shot went off into the ceiling. The man used his leverage to slam Chase’s hand against the ground forcing him to release the gun, sending it skidding across the floor. Chase used this opportunity to get a knee between them and shove his opponent off him and make some distance between them. Both shuffled to their feet. Chase put his fists up, preparing for the fight.

His opponent reached behind his back and withdrew a NR-40 fighting knife. Aiming the strike right for Chase’s gut he came in fast with the knife. Chase saw the strike coming. He pushed his waist backward, bending at the waist and catching the man’s wrist with his arms locked out stopping the knife. In one fluid motion chase shifted the momentum of the strike upward, sliding under the man’s arm moving behind him then pulling his arm back down and planting the knife hilt deep in the man’s side. When he was taught that, Chase never thought it would have worked but he had just been proven wrong. It was a fatal blow, the tip of the knife had slit the left ventricle of his heart and bottom of his lung.

Chase let him fall to the ground. He needed a moment to pull himself together. He’d been in a firefight before but that was fighting an enemy a few hundred meters away with a squad of other men and armored support. He had just by himself killed four armed men in close quarters combat. He had never been in actual hand to hand combat before. He had to snap himself out of it, there was still a job to do. He could feel his heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He walked over and collected his pistol, brushing away the dust from the scuffle. The exit to the room was a doorway at the back of the room. It had some serious locks on it but they were all unlocked. Through the doorway he found himself on a stairway leading down four flights until another door with similar locks but this one read in Russian “Authorized access only” he went through and found himself facing what appeared to be a bank vault door. It had a placard that read B-66. He recalled this from a documentary he had seen. Scattered all throughout Moscow during the cold war the Defense ministry had built bunkers during the cold war for government officials in case of nuclear war. They were designed to withstand a nuclear blast and sustain the occupants for months with interconnected communications so they could attempt to maintain the government from the safety of underground. Many of them kept so secret that after the collapse of the Soviet Union they were forgotten, some being discovered by accident after the buildings were sold off.

The heavy door was slightly ajar, just enough to slip through without moving it. Inside was a undisturbed lavished 60s era reception area. He saw a shadow under the door to the rest of the bunker. This place was so isolated it was possible they were not even aware of what had happened up stairs. He could hear voices speaking Chechen which he couldn’t understand. Listening closely he could hear one of whoever was inside stood right inside the door probable leaning against it. He didn’t know what he would find in there but he was about to find out. He have humself a few feet between him and the door and using his shoulder bashed the door open. He followed through pinning the man behind the door then put the pistol to the door and fired off the remaining few rounds in the magazine through the wooden door. The slide locked to the rear as the final shell ejected.

He dived as the other stunned guard regained his senses and fired, stitching the area where Chance’s head had just been with automatic fire. He abandoned his empty pistol and grabbed the dropped MP5K from the guy behind the door and sent a burst at shin level. The man screamed as the bullets shredded flesh and shattered bone. The third man in the room continued typing at a computer set.

This set up was too large for them to have just brought in, the room looked like a command center. There were consoles, displays and CCTV monitors displaying various live feeds from the parade. It was obvious there had been preparation put into this.

“Stop what you’re doing!” chase shouted in Russian standing up and kicking the gun away from the man he had just shot. “I said stop what you’re doing, move away from the console.”

The unknown man hit a final button then casually turned around. “I don’t know what you’re doing meddling in Russian affairs American but there’s nothing you can do now” the man said in nearly flawless English.

“What are you talking about?” chase said keeping his sights firmly on his chest.

“As soon as that timer reaches zero” he looked up at a timer fixed to the wall “you see that Topol” he pointed to the massive RT-2MP 16 wheeled mobile ICBM launcher. “Its missile pod is loaded with a special bomb what you Americans call a ‘dirty bomb’. When it detonates it will level red square and flood Moscow in a cloud of radioactive particles.”

“Why are you doing this?>” chase questioned “The Chechen war is over.”

“You think this is about Chechnya, no, this is about far more. Not only will this entirely eradicate all the vermin who crawl about the Kremlin but also that Topol you see there, it’s one of those abominations, those ‘living machines’.” Disgust dripped from his words. “They will blame them and they will have to dismantle them removing many of their vehicles and crippling Russia’s mechanized fighting forces. With a weakened military and no leadership Russia itself will begin to fall to pieces”

“They’ll never believe that.”

“Trust me we’ve staged enough that they’ll have a welding torch to all of them within a week.”

This infuriated chase, he could only think of Anya. “You stop this right now” Chase shouted at him jamming the muzzle burning hot of the gun into his forehead.

The man remained completely calm despite the pain “Nothing can be done now”

Chase grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his face against the console “Undo it now!” Chase barked.

“You don’t understand, there’s nothing that can be done. There’s no secret code, this isn’t one of your super spy movies. When the time is up this this station will broadcast the detonation signal” Chase looked up at the screen and saw the Topol was sitting in the chute, about to go. The timer read 45 seconds.

“This room will seal as soon as the signal is sent.”

“You bastard” chase growled bringing him up to eye level. Chase cocked back and delivered the most powerful punch he could to his jaw, knocking him out cold. He began frantically looking over the consoles, nothing made any sense. He was running out of time.

The clock read 10 seconds. He couldn’t think of anything.

Five seconds. His last chance, he had to do something.

His last resort, he turned his head closed his eyes and fired off the rest of the magazine into the computers, microchips and plastic flying everywhere. He opened his eyes. The consoles were completely demolished. One monitor was still working he could see the parade as the timer hit two then one. Chase held his breath. Then zero. Nothing happened. Chase let out a sigh of relief. “I guess I just saved the day” He was just about to exit the outer door as he heard a scuffling just beyond it. The pressure wave knocked him from his feet as the door exploded off its hinges and men in black tactical gear flowed in. He felt himself flipped onto his face and a knee in the center of his back as a black bag was placed over his head and zip ties were cinched tight on his wrists. He slowly slipped into unconsciousness.

-Personal journal entry 453: 13 May 2022

Ok, here’s what happened. So it turns out Leonid was Russian Intelligence, FSB. He was pursuing a group of terrorists who were going to set off a dirty bomb during the Victory day parade. Their motive was to destroy the seat of Russian government and frame the Living machines for the crime destroying all the progress and credibility they have made so far. It almost seemed personal. After a shootout I’ll never forget, I managed, by a damn miracle, to stop them. The only bad part was I completely missed the parade, I missed seeing Anya’s final performance. I spent two days in and out of a FSB interrogation room before they released me back to the American government where I spent the last few days on ice, questioned  by every three letter agency I’ve ever heard of and a few I hadn’t. I even have my own shadow now, State Department Special Agent Mike Falkner. He’s never far out of sight. No outside contact, TV, internet, nothing. Worst part is I can’t get that helicopter off my mind. No matter what I do I think of her. Tomorrow I’m supposed to be meeting with the President of the Russian Federation, one of the most powerful men on earth, President Vladimir Putin.

Back at Kubinka, Anya was sitting in her hangar. She hadn’t heard from Chase for days and was beginning to think it had just been a one night stand. This was really starting to take a toll on her, she just wasn’t feeling herself, depression starting to set in.

The door creaked as it slid open. She turned and saw Vadik roll in. This would boost her mood a little, she always enjoyed his company. “What’s the matter?” She said noticing the somber look on his face.

“Orders just came in from Moscow. You’re to report to the maintenance hangar for de-mil.” Vadik said.

Anya could feel what humans would compare to their heart dropping. “Well, they don’t waist any time now don’t they. Victory day parade one day scrap yard the next.”

“I’m sorry I tried to talk to the Colonel but he said the orders were final. They were sent from the Ministry of Defense.” Vadik came up to her and put one of his tendrils to her face, hoping to console her. He’d seen this happen to a few of the vehicles he knew. It hurt worse and worse every time, this time especially because it was her, he cared for her a lot. “Have you considered running?”

“You know it wouldn’t work.” she said. Vadik knew this. It was a Russian military base, there was no getting away from the missiles and MiG’s that would be sent after her.

Vadik came up next to her and pressed his hull against hers. “I’m really going to miss you.” Vadik said softly to her.

“I’m going to miss you to.”

“Here” He said removing his tow and hooking it to her tow point “let me.”

“Now remember what we talked about.” Ambassador Rawling and Chase sat in the waiting room just outside of the office of the President of the Russian Federation in the Russian White House in Moscow. “If you can find a way, if he asks if there’s anything he can do for you remember…” Ambassador Rawling was interrupted “The President will see you now Mr. Weber.” Chase and Rawling stood “Just Mr. Weber”

“But.” Ambassador Rawling began to protest.

“The President wants to speak with him personally” the assistant insisted.

Ambassador Rawling reluctantly took his seat. Chase adjusted his tie as he followed the assistant through the the heavy wooden doors.

“Dobroye utro, Mr. Weber.” President Putin said standing and walking out from behind his desk.

“Dobroye utro, Mr. President.” chase replied as formally as he could. President Putin extended his hand and chase took it. The aging former KGB Colonel had a remarkable grip for his age and still retained the dominating demeanor he had become known for “Please take a seat.” He said motioning to a chair in front of his desk. “My people tell me you speak good Russian.” he said as they both sat down.

“I taught myself mostly Mr. President.” Chase said in the best Russian he could. He wasn’t unfamiliar with speaking with high ranking officials but this was the first time he had ever spoken one on one with a head of state. Aside from the president there were a few FSO agents, their version of secret service and standing right behind and left of the president was a Russian military officer. From what he could tell man was a Russian Army General, most likely his defense minister. He looked to be in his late 50s and wore a chest full of medals and decorations even bearing the Hero of the Russian Federation medal. To have Russia’s highest decoration, this man must be fairly important.

“So onto the events of 9 May.” He opened a file on the display on his desk. “My intelligence services tell me that you were not actually part of this plot and in fact that we owe you a measure of thanks. The Video shows you may have just saved Russia as we know it. However,” he shifted in his chair looking back to chase. “At this point in international relations decorating an American with a medal befitting of this isn’t in my best interest. Please don’t take this as an insult, the people of Russia are thankful for what you have done but I can use this event to great effect here and now.” Chase appreciated his straight forward approach. “Therefore I would like to offer you an alternative. Now I know your Ambassador has no doubt told you ask to reopen talks on the situation but I want to know what you want, personally.”

Chase wasn’t prepared for this question, what could he ask of the President of Russia. He thought for a moment. He was afraid of asking for something to big but wasn’t planning on wasting this on a KitKat bar. Then the thought hit him. He knew exactly what he wanted. It was crazy and he had no idea if he’d go for it.

“Mi-24 Hind helicopter tail number 102” Chase said with all the confidence as he could muster.

The President looked surprised, it was a very precise answer. The general behind him typed something into his wrist terminal then swiped his finger sending the information to the president’s screen. “So you want one of our old attack helicopters?” he continued down the page. “Ah, I see it is one of our live machines, why is this?”

“Mr. President, I’ve been wanting to learn to fly a helicopter and how better to learn than from a helicopter, and plus I’ve always admired the Hind.”

The general leaned in and said something in the president’s ear. “Whatever your reasons are, it’s all yours.” The President said applying his digital signature on a form which Chase could only assume was a transfer order.

Chase couldn’t believe that had just worked. He had just been given Anya. She was now his. Whatever fate she had been fearing was now gone. He couldn’t hide the astonishment “Thank you Mr. President.”

“I can imagine they will be reluctant to let you have an attack helicopter so I will agree to reopen talks on the Moldova situation on the terms you are allowed to have it. As you can assume this is now classified and unauthorized release of this information is now punishable. Although the public may never know what you’ve done Russia is in your debt.” President Putin stood and chase followed “Now if you will excuse me there are some things I have to discuss with your ambassador. General Milonovich will escort you and your shadow to Kubinka air base where you can collect your helicopter.” President Putin stood and chase followed. They exchanged a handshake and chase left the room followed by General Milonovich picking up his assigned agent as they exited and headed down an elevator to an underground garage.

The three got into an armored limousine and departed for Kubinka. “Chase,” General Milonovich said looking at Chase “you know you look very much like my son Vasily.” It clicked, Chase knew he recognized the name. Minister Milonovich was the man he had impersonated to get out of Kubinka. And this was no doubt his father. There was more. The Milonovich family was a very affluent family, one of the most powerful families in all of Russia, their power dating back to the Tsars. A family of politicians and generals.  “So, tell me what’s your actual interest in this helicopter, I feel it’s more than what you told the president”

He had seen right through him. Chase’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, there is.” He shifted in his seat. “Her and I.” He couldn’t really think of the proper way to put it.

“Had sex.” Milonovich finished.

Chase scratched his head. That was putting it bluntly but yes it was the truth. “Don’t worry, I don’t have any problem with it. In a way I understand the concept of being connected with your vehicle. During the Second Chechen war I was a T-80 tank operator. My tank became more of a comrade to me. Being in combat in one of those beasts, you develop a relation with it. I took care of my tank and it took care of me, she even had moods, I could tell when something was wrong. She never let me down even once. One time we even took a RPG to the engine and somehow that tank managed to take out a supply convoy and limp back to base. The mechs said there was no reason it should even run but somehow that tank got me back in one piece. A new engine and we were back in the fight. We’ve never actually been properly introduced. I am General of the Army Yuri Amolev Milonovich, Russian Defense Minister.” Shaking hands with chase.

“I’m glad they gave that helicopter to you. She was due to be retired and decommissioned. One of those birds saved my life once. Chechen mine took the tracks off my tank and there was a platoon of rebels closing down on us. Just as they were about to reach us, three Hinds rose over the hills in a most majestic fashion. It was beautiful, rockets, cannons, the heavy beating of the rotors, it was fit for a cinema. Saved our lives.”

“Well here we are.” Vadik said as him and Anya reached the large door of the helicopter maintenance hangar. “Open up!” he shouted as they came to a stop. The doors slid open, something didn’t seem right. There was a long black limo bearing Russian Federation fender flags. Vadik pulled her into the hangar and detached the tow bar.

A group of men emerged from one of the offices at the back of the hangar.

“Anya!”

She heard the voice she thought she would never hear again, the one she had longed for.

“Chase?” She exclaimed as he moved through the crowd of uniforms and coveralls. “What are you doing here”

“You wont believe it.” Chase said affectionately placing his hand on her face. “Some things happened, big things.”

“General Milonovich.” she said as the officer approached, her military instinct kicking in.

“Hello Anya” General Milonovich said pleasantly “How are you doing”

“Sir, I’m not exactly sure whats going on”

“Your boy here did some big things for Russian and was asked if there was anything he wanted. He said he wanted you.” The General certainly had a way with words.

“Chase?” She said, turning to him, curious as to what he could have done to make a thing like this happen.

“I wasn’t sure what you would want but I remembered how much you were dreading retirement. Now you can make the decision. You can do whatever you want, your life is yours. You can go do whatever you want or you can come back to America and live with me”

“So you’re saying I can come to America with you?” Excitement filling her voice.

“Yes, if you want.”

She wrapped her tendrils around him and squeezed him tightly against her nose, knocking the air out of him and squishing his cheek against her glass cockpit.

She was overjoyed “Yes chase, I do. Take me away to America, we can be together there right?”

“Definitely…”

She lifted on her front gear and kissed him right on the mouth. “Chase I love you.”

General Milonovich was smiling as he watched the two young love birds. “You take care of her now” he said as they broke apart “she’s your helicopter now.”

“Will do General.”

“Anya will have to be de-militarized, luckily for you all her sights, systems and comm gear are just old enough that you can just have it as is however the cannon and rocket pods we’ll have to keep. It should take a few hours and then this beautiful helicopter is all yours”

He turned back to Chase “Oh, and if you ever find yourself in a situation in Russia any police chief will know this means you’re a friend of the right people in Russia.” He handed him a challenge coin. It was serialized and very intricate, bearing the symbol of General of the Army and Defense Minister on one side and the seal of the Russian Federation on the other side.

“In addition” he continued, “there is a hangar for you at the Moscow International Airport, an old KGB hangar, hasn’t been used since the 90s but it’s all yours as long as you’re in here. Well I have to get going. You two have a good day.” He turned and walked back to his limousine.

For the rest of the de-mil process Chase sat off to the side watching the technicians work, just admiring the helicopters attractive form.

“Are you ready to get outta here Anya” He said as they finally finished. “Shit, I forgot.” Chase said neglecting to introduce his shadow. “This is Special Agent Mike Falkner, he’s assigned to me because of what happened. To make sure I’m not a security risk.” He turned to the Special Agent “Agent Falkner this is Anya Mil, she’s a Mi-24 gunship helicopter.” Chase moved in a bit closer to her “and now my Mi-24 gunship helicopter” he liked saying that.

Let me report in” Falkner said pulling out his phone “then we can get over to Moscow int.”

As soon as Falkner stepped away chase felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned around and there was Leonid, one arm in a sling but otherwise completely fine, dressed this time in a suit and tie. “Good job chase, you pulled it off”

“Leonid, I can’t believe you made it out of there. They wouldn’t tell me what had happened to you.”

“It’ll take a lot more than them to off me. It seems they failed to kill me during the war and they wanted a rematch. You know, it’s possible these events will mean lots of changes in Russia, especially for your big friend over here. All that aside, I wanted to give you something.” He reached into the coat his coat pocket and removed an oddly shaped object wrapped in a gray cloth and handed it to chase. It was heavy and he could already tell it was a pistol. He unwrapped it just enough to see it was the FN 5.7 pistol he had used during the shootout. “You can’t carry it here in Russia but I figure back in America you could, kind of a memento. Oh and if you ever get tired of working for the US give me a call” He handed chase a business card that simply read “Leonid Petrov, export consultant” and then a number. He nodded to Chase then walked back the way he had come.

At that point Falkner had finished his call and returned. “Alright give it here” he said. Chase reluctantly handed over the cloth wrapped pistol. “Maybe, you can have this back when we get back to the states.”

They made their way out to the runway. It felt weird to Chase that she was his now.

“Go ahead climb in.” She said opening the cockpit door. It was the happiest he’d ever been climbing up the side of this helicopter and taking his seat in the pilot’s chair. “That seat, it’s yours now. I’m yours now” she said, “I promise, I’ll never let anything happen to you my love”.

© 2015 “DELTA X3” Account owner

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