This is Sferë. Here, the Albanian nation is always in a primitive state of development. Meanwhile, the Great Powers grow, breed, and build new technology all around them.
Welcome to Keene, Virginia. Out here, it can be hard to find good warriors. Alas, some of them do live here...
This is the alpine cottage of Donnie Fenn. It's isolated. Men of type seem to prefer such accommodations...
In some of the rooms, there are photos of him in an airman's uniform. In some of the photos, he's wielding pistols, submachine guns, and/or carbines. In one, he's in a martial arts robe, he's wielding a bo staff. In another, he's in the same uniform wielding a pair of nunchuks.
In their backdrop, there's a Virginia flag. But of course, most warriors' careers begin with a flag.
In bed, with nothing on, he sleeps atop his wife. It's been a rough night for both of them. Good; Donnie's gotta go to work in the morning.
Donnie wakes...before it's time. He's not sure how he does it...but he does. His soul, for some reason, seems to have perfectly-balanced relationship with the real world...and not to mention his own physicality...
Gently, he gets off his Albanian immigrant wife. She's brunette, long flowing-haired, small-bodied, and hot. She's got some ripe ass cheeks to show for.
In another room, he dresses. He clads himself in battledress and body armor; combat helmet and all. He packs his pack with the last-minute essentials, and checks his parachute. He's a spec-ops airman; his chute is VERY important...
Outside, he loads his pistols, submachine guns, and carbine. He does this all outside, so as to not wake his wife. He holsters all of the above, and ammo to spare.
At long last, he takes up his bo staff, divides it into two, and crosses the two halves into a special harness on his back. He also takes up a pair of nunchuks, and hangs them, by their chain, on his load-bearing gear. With those squared away, he ventures down, away, and off into an alpine woodland.
On his way, he passes another cottage. He can't see their moonshine still...but he can smell its bootleg distilling. Donny's always admired them. Alas, he lacks the will to go into moonshining for himself.
On the patio, one of them practices his double-bass. He plucks the strings. The instrument is a bass; its sound doesn't project very far. It makes it ideal, for a little night-rehearsing...
Onward, Donny continues. High up from a cliff, a cougar watches him. Its eyes glimmer with beryl-colored light in the shadows.
At last, Donny gets to a clearing. Here, he waits. He doesn't need a watch to know that his ride will be here in less than five minutes.
High above, there's low-running noise. It gets closer, as it descends...
Up through the clearing, a large hovercraft appears. It levitates into view, and shadows the clearing...or rather, it WOULD shadow the clearing, if it wasn't 0300 hours.
Aboard, they're aware that Donny has an anti-beaming phobia. So, they lower a rope instead...through a portal in the deck. It takes a while for the end hook to get to Donny...but it does.
Donny's already wearing the proper harness. All he's got to do is attach the right hooks to the right spots. Once he has, he uses a flashlight to send a signal up, that means, "raise."
And they give him a raise; just not the kind that comes from time having spent at work. Beneath his feet, the ground vanishes. He's lifted above the trees, and up through the hatch. Inside, they've got a derrick doing most of the work.
At last, Donny's through the hatch. Beneath him, the hatch closes. Inside, they square Donny away, just as soon as they've squared away his gear. They strap him to a seat, that's bolted to a bulkhead.
Outside, the warplane flashes different lights, as it turns its rotors, and flies away. It spirals around, like a whirlwind, and vanishes through the clouds...and eventually, into orbit. From there, they will bear Donny to his assignment...along with many other warriors with missions similar to his.
Still in her lingerie, Sara scurries into the clearing, many moments after Donny's left. By now, his airbus is long gone.
In this clearing, she seems very small. She hardly seems qualified to help her husband on the front lines. Then again, he himself doesn't exactly remind anyone of Captain Georgia. (NOT the Kartvelian one...)
"I love you," she whispers, looking up after him. Soon, he'll be a long way from home...and an even longer way from her.