KEI THOMPSON AND VASILY "BEAR" ROMANOV

"Hey Vasily! Fancy finding you here," exclaimed Kei, as she approached, "What happened to you?"

"I had to make an emergency landing," said Vasily, lowering his light, "Why are you out of your tank?"

"Your bombs threw me out," Kei laughed, "It felt like I got kicked by a horse."

Vasily grabbed Kei by the arms and sat her down. Without asking permission, he began a rudimentary examination. Vasily had Kei follow his fingers with her eyes. He flashed light into her eyes and watched her pupils dilate and shrink. He asked several non-intrusive questions about how she was feeling. Whether she felt dizzy or light headed and such. Kei didn't seem to have any outward wounds, but Vasily made an effort to make certain. Of course he was careful not to make inappropriate moves, not that Kei would mind. Kei Thompson seemed to like all the attention she was getting, even though it was all business.

"So, why are you checking me out?" Kei winked.

"I'm not checking you out," said Vasily, averting his eyes, "I was checking on you. You may have suffered a concussion or other injuries from the blast."

"Well I feel fine," said Kei cheerfully, jumping back on her feet, "What's the plan now, Vasily? You get lost too?"

"You look fine too," said Vasily, cheeks slightly red, "From a health view. Don't read into my comment. Ahem. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to gather materials. Then I shall return to my plane and continue my attacks. Surely you'll wish to do the same."

Vasily started walking away in a direction he thought was right. He walked for several minutes before the strange feeling that he was being watched became overwhelming. Kei was walking right behind him with that signature American smile and confident walk.

"Why are you following me? I am going to the Pravda lines, not Saunders."

"Well I don't exactly know where to go and I don't want to walk around in the dark alone," said Kei nonchalantly "And…"

"Are you afraid of the dark?" Vasily laughed to himself.

"O-of course not! What I was going to say is that there's nothing that way."

"You are trying to deceive me," said Vasily, "That way is my rendezvous. Your team is somewhere else."

Kei shook her head, "I just came from there. There's nothing. Maybe a few tracks and shell craters, but nothing else. If you don't believe me, we can keep walking and wasting your time. I'm sure my team can beat Pravda without me, but without you…"

"My squadron is more than capable," Vasily relented, "If there's nothing that way, then where should we go?"

"Umm, that way?" Kei pointed.

"I came from there. There is only my plane and it is not capable of flying at optimal performance."

"That way then," said Kei pointing in a direction perpendicular to where they came, "That seems good enough."

Without a map or any way to navigate, Vasily couldn't really argue with Kei. He just nodded and led the way. They mostly walked in awkward silence through the empty fields. Every so often Kei would open her mouth and wanted to say something, but decided against it.

Another cold wind rushed around them. Vasily, accustomed to the cold, didn't even flinch. At most the wind blew his hair into an inconvenient style. Kei rubbed her hands together then crossed her arms. Her long smooth legs shivered between every step. Goosebumps crawled up and down her body, making her quiver.

"Brrr."

"If you are cold you should not have worn those shorts," said Vasily, "We can pick up the pace. That will warm you up a bit."

"No, no, I'm fine. See?" Kei tried to keep from shivering, "Totally fine."

Vasily looked Kei up and down. The Russian sighed and removed his jacket.

"Here. Tie this around your waist," said Vasily, offering his jacket, "Go on. Take it and get warm."

"I told you, I'm fine," Kei tried to act tough, "It's not that cold."

"I insist," Vasily looked a little concerned, "And you are shivering."

Without asking Vasily tied his jacket around Kei's waist by the sleeves. His thick jacket made a sort of thick skirt around Kei's legs. It wasn't completely warm but it help keep the wind away. Her legs stopped shaking and she nearly blushed.

"Thanks. But… won't you be cold? You've just got a shirt on."

"This is nothing. Come back in December and experience a Russian. Then you'll know cold."

"Sure, I'll come back. As long as I can spend the winter with you," Kei smirked.

Vasily chuckled once, "And if you get cold you can press up against me."

"Snuggle with a bear?" Kei had a teasing expression, "I can do that."

"You know I am joking, yes?"

Kei smiled and walked past Vasily. Her eyes glittered in the night like jewels. Golden silky hair danced in the moonlight breeze. She pushed back her long blonde hair and flipped it, catching the Russian's eye. Each step was light and graceful. Kei glided in front of Vasily. She playfully spun around and gave Vasily a flirting glance before continuing on her walk.

Vasily couldn't find any words other than, "You know I was joking, yes?"

The beautiful Kei pressed a finger to her lips and said nothing.

NONNA CHAIKOVSKI AND TED "TUSKEGEE" FRANKLIN

The second pair of pilot and tank commander were also wandering around the battlefield. They found a site of a different skirmish. The ground was softer and damper than from where they came. This was a good sign that they were on the right path. Even better were the tracks that would certainly lead them to the river. The problem was they couldn't tell which were Saunders or Pravda, or which ones were going from the river, and which were going away.

"I think we should go that way," said Ted, pointing with his light, "What do you think?"

"It does not really matter which we select since we do not know where we are to begin with," said Nonna, "Let us follow your path but if we do not find our objective in ten minutes we return and go the other way."

"Sounds like a plan," said Ted hiking up his pack, "Let's –"

BRRRRMMMM! BRRRMMM!

Nonna immediately dove for the ground and covered her ears. Above an unseen number of planes were preparing their strike. The deep rumble of the engines grew louder and louder and louder. Ted turned off his light, not only to keep the bombs from falling on them, but also to hide his satisfied smile. He recognized the sound of the engines. It was Midway's B-25s moving for a second sortie. Another carpet of bombs would fall on Pravda, hoping to smash a hole in the enemy lines.

But there was a more important matter than victory. Ted reached into his emergency pack and pulled out a flare gun. He pointed it toward the sky and pulled the trigger. A bright red flare flew into the air. It long tail for sparkling embers twinkling like ruby stars. Its beauty was short lived as it quickly petered out.

"Why did you do that?!" protested Nonna, "They may bomb us!"

"Relax, that was a downed pilot signal flare," said Ted, putting the flare gun away, "All AirCom pilots know what it means, so don't' worry."

Nonna recomposed herself, "Well then, since those plane must be headed to combat areas I suggest we follow them."

Ted nodded and they started walking toward the sound. It wasn't long until they saw the flashes of cannon and the explosion of bombs. The cacophony followed the flashes then came the smell of smoke that made their eyes water. They started to run, hoping to catch the battle just as it ended. However, when they finally reached the area, it was all over. All that was left for them were the battle scars in the dirt.

"Damn, not even a single tank was knocked out," Ted lamented, "I'll have to give the boys a stern talking to when I get back."

"Da. I'm disappointed in my company as well. Surely they should have landed one crippling hit at least."

Grrrr… Grrr….

Ted swivelled around, flashing his light at anything, "What was that? A wolf? A bear?"

Nonna looked away, her cheeks flushed red, "I'm sorry. That was me."

Ted rummaged through his pack, "Catch."

Nonna caught a small pouch containing a small box of crackers, a tin with key, a bar of chocolate, and a small bottle of water. Nonna was about to ask Ted what this was for, but the American pilot was grabbing a parcel of his own. Ted hopped into a small shell crater and took a seat. Without much reason to oppose, Nonna joined Ted.

"What is this?" she finally asked.

"Standard issue emergency K-ration," said Ted, grimacing at the thought of the flavour, "Every AirCom pilot brings them to every match."

"Everyone?"

"Everyone. In case there's an emergency like a crash or landing. Usually they happen out of the grounds and away from the airfields. Search and rescue, that sort of stuff, you know?" said Ted, opening the tin, "I'm sure you tankery folks have something similar right?"

"No we do not. Our vehicles are recovered as soon as possible, as is the crew. Though long matches often mean we must bring food with us. But never emergency kits like yours," explained Nonna lengthily, "What else is in your kit, if I may ask?"

"Let's see here," Ted rummaged through his pack, "Two more flares, aid kit, blanket, matches and lighter, some candles, whistle and mirror. And the two days' worth of supplies we're eating."

"Two days? Pilots are expected to survive that long?"

Ted nodded.

Nonna looked down at the tin of meat. She moved it around with the attached fork. Ted was holding his nose with each bite. He seemed to be eating the meat quickly to avoid "savouring" the taste.

"May I ask if you had ever been stranded before? Away from everyone?" asked Nonna, understanding this was very personal.

Ted put down his tin, "Yes. Once. It happened two years ago during the Cursed Year. Heh, heh heh, now that I think about it was kind of like how I got stranded today. I was flying a P-40 that day and I told the mechanics to skip the maintenance so I could rush to the battle. During the fight with Ohka I took several hits along the tail and engine. I pulled off and tried to retreat."

Ted chuckled, "Never tell your mechanics to skip the maintenance. As soon as I got out of the battle space the engine started dying. And as it died the nose dipped and I couldn't pull up because of the damage. I crashed in a forest, oh, God maybe twenty miles from the airfield and match zone. Took them a full day to find me and salvage my plane. Hey, at least this time we're inside the match area. So that's a silver lining."

"I suppose it is," Nonna smiled softly, "What is the Cursed Year?"

"That was the year when all the teams suffered some major accidents. If you want to know you'll have to ask them. Bad year," Ted opened his box of crackers, "How's your sister doing? Hope I didn't spoil her too much."

"She is doing very well, thank you," Nonna shook her head, "However she has been doing your 'Ethiopian Sand Dance' ever since."

Ted laughed, "Is she any good?"

"Not at all," Nonna sighed and drifted back into a little memory, "I hope she's not waiting for me. I told her that'd I'd be late."

Ted checked his watch, "It's near eleven already. Can a little girl like her stay up this late?"

"Her will to stay up will keep her up. Especially if I made a promise to her."

"Mind if I ask what promise?"

"It's a silly promise. I promised to sing her to sleep every night until Pravda left port. Sadly, I may not sing to her tonight."

In a futile attempt to make up for her promise, Nonna started to hum. Bayushki Bayu was Lisa's favourite lullaby and Nonna sang it with a silky smooth voice. Without realizing it, Nonna started to softly sing the words in Russian. Ted listened closely, letting himself be carried away by the melody. The stress and exhaustion seemed to melt away from them.

"Okay, that's it," Ted stood up.

"What is it?" asked Nonna, following him.

"We're ending this match and getting you back home. Little Lisa wants to hear a lullaby from her big sister," Ted was more determined, "Let's go that way."