"You have grey hair but you’re not old"
Really Spitfire?
My name is Vladimir and I am 53 years old, I served as a boy pilot in my MI-24 during the war in Afghanistan, and all other Russian conflicts in between then, and now she knows nothing, our age difference is incredible , she could be as young as 30 and yet I am talking to her.
We talked for hours together, one of us told the other about their time in the academy when they had to dump a recruit because they almost killed a number of civilians , and then when they stopped, the other told of how he had to fly in a snow storm with half a cockpit blown out and only one engine. I can say that I did have fun, I felt my affection growing for Spitfire as we sat together on her bed, shifting closer and closer until our heads were practically bumping, until I realized that I would never see Spitfire again, in a few days she would be gone forever because when the KG....the FSB get their hands on her....., so. I guess that in the unlikely event of myself being attached to this woman, it would be worthless.
The next day....2013
The next day always brings something new, like instead of car accident on highway it is truck accident, thats what I love about the next day, it changes and shifts everywhere and anywhere.
But the FSB is coming to see my report in two days, I have today and tomorrow to find out what Spitfire is hiding, but I don’t know about today, I need to see my children……..
Well they arnt children, my daughter Alina who is 15 , and my son Mike who is 16 and looks after house for me, I guess we should go there and eat noodles or something....I like noodles.
I still dont know where we should go....
So after waking up, getting dressed in five minutes and pulling my underwear on while brushing my teeth, I eventually met up with Spitfire by banging on her door and picking her up while throwing my ex wifes clothes at her, and after a short tour around the base which was full of men looking at her, we eventually got into my car, which is surprisingly a Nissan GT-R , I got it with a years pay and had it shipped over. Its a fantastic car with a massive engine and suits me well, although it only holds 2 people. But I love it, and I modified it as well, its not as fast as it used to be because I reinforced the chassis , put steel plating on the weak areas to cope with the Russia of today.
Unfortunately Spitfire didn't trust the look of it and it took minutes to convince the girl that the car was not a flesh eating machine. Even then she still wouldn't get in, so I resorted to pushing her in, slamming the door and going pedal to the metal.
That was the most fun I had in a long time to note.
Anyway, eventually we hit the main road.
And the conversation turned to me.
"So, your old enough to have served for a "number" of years right?". Spitfire asked as we stopped again in a traffic jam.
"Da, 39 years, ever since I was.... 15, I was recruited at a early age and did pilot training while in college". I answer while remembering those days as a horny teenager, who got a erection at every single word hinting to sex.
"So your...53?, you look older than that Vladimir, the lines on your face say so". Spitfire notes with suprise, her face deep in concentration as I let her study my own face, I can see where she is coming from though, I do have some noticeable marks near my mouth and cheeks.
"But you seemed so much younger yesterday?, what happened to you over night?" She inquires and I respond by simply not looking at her, these memories will pass away in time, I am quite sure of that.
"Did you ever see combat?". She asks suddenly inquisitively, just as the truck ahead of us starts its engines and the red lights on the indicators flicker off, I ignore her comment and instead drive forwards.
I spot a narrow gap and hurtle the car through it, overtaking the truck and putting us in a better position than before.
"Did you ever see combat?". Spitfire puts a hand on my leg and asks again, for some strange reason I blush, AND I feel compelled to tell her about my experiences.
"I saw the war in Afghanistan, and every single conflict involving my unit since then, my most recent was when I was engaged heavy combat in Tskhinvali during the short war in 2008, in a pathetic country that none of us care about". I answer truthfully as small memories of watching my friends get hit by anti aircraft missile blacken my mind, my good hand grips on the wheel as I remember their dying screams as the helicopter crashed in flames.
"What did you do?". She asks, either obliviousness or not noticing.
"Kill people, marked targets for the TOS-1's and watched them level entire city blocks, I destroyed three tanks and shot down a helicopter with a anti tank missile personally". I bristle but manage to keep a level voice.
I also almost got shot down too, like one of my own helicopters.
My own squadron.
The title of Captain removed for my "misconduct" during battle.
They didnt even demote me to Stárshiy leytenánt, instead now Im just a normal fucking leytenánt, but my squadron is still mine, they only listen to me.
Stinger missles, flying everywhere and lighting up the sky, slamming into 8's helicopter and blowing it in half.
The MI-24 cockpit glass sheared in my face, my own Krokodil almost destroyed because of what I did.
Crash landing.....
I snap out of my thoughts in time to make it to the side road, I then slow down to third gear and switch highways before joining the true force of traffic that stretches for miles in either direction, its the rush to work hour and we will doubtlessly be either going at snail speed or old person walking speed.
"Are you ok Vlad?, you look like you've seen a ghost". The orange haired girl sounds concerned but I cant answer, my memory flashes back to when I was a captain, to when I was Akula 1-1.
"Ghosts do not exist Spitfire" I grunt and say nothing else, leaving her to her thoughts while I concentrate on driving...
Then again I still have no idea where we are going, home to watch movies and noodles? or somewhere. where I can get to know her?
Hmmm.
And another traffic jam, but the road to Novosibirsk is in the next intersection.
Might aswell make a decision on where to go?
"Hey Spitfire?" I ask while tapping my fingers on the wheel and braking slowly.
"Yeah?" She answers, twiddling her hair while staring out of the window at this depressing fucking country.
"Do you know what noodles are?" I ask hopefully because I really dont want to have to pay more money than I should, I would rather sit on chair and eat noodles.
"Uh...yeah? I think so...why?". Spitfire asks, confused to why I asked her such a trivial question I guess?
"We are going to my house, we will be.....I have no idea so dont ask". I tell her before concentrating on the road, because it only takes a few minutes for the mass of cars and stuff to disperse right?
Three hours later....
In the end I just turned the engine of and slouched in my car seat, I guess we are stuck here while these idiots in front of my play with their dicks and don't move....
Why am I here anyway?, I could be doing something much more useful like flying, drinking, eating noodles or seeing my children...well I am going to see my children but I would have gone later in the day to avoid all of this traffic, instead of going early in the morning I could be having a extended sleep right now....
Its her...
What about her?.
What about the woman in my car? Who is still looking out of the window, her eyes focused on something in the distance, or observing something...I dont know.
Whats the point of even trying to be friends with her, you know how this will end Vladimir...
Maybe...maybe not...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I sigh heavily, Im too old for this. I should have retired five years ago, not still flying around...kidding myself that I am not past my prime...which I am. Im a old man in a job thats dominated by younger men. Who am I kidding....
I look at Spitfire and casually flicker my eyes over her appearance.
Orange hair.
Brown eyes.
Red lips.
Pretty.
Toned body.
Revealing clothes.
And much younger than me....*sigh*.
I guess I wouldnt have a chance anyway, shes too much of a pretty girl for me. I'll just find another stuck up woman my age and marry, have even more children that I'll have to donate more attention and money too, before divorcing her as she ends up being unfaithful.
Just doing the same thing, over and over again. Expecting shit to change.
But it wont, and that is how my life will be.
Because when I look at Spitfire.....
I am reminded of how beautiful she is.
How old I am in comparison and defunct.
How my life could have turned out.
I tear my eyes away from her and upon noticing that the traffic jam is moving again, I put my car keys into ignition and start the engine again.
For a brief second I look into the mirror and I see a old man.