The wind of the Siberian taiga howled outside as Luke stood over his bed doing one final check of his gear. Behind him, Basuda and Glazkov sat by the fire going over the jump plans. Two planes would take off from the impromptu airfield that the Interior Troops had set up, then split up heading NW and NE respectively over the mountain range. They would be about 110 kilometers apart at the drop zones and slowly come back together at a rendezvous point in the foothills of the Yablonovy Mts. Then they would have to trek 30 miles over the mountains to the extract point. The mountains would be the hardest part, Arctic weather on a mountain could go from bad to worse on a dime.

Over the past 5 days, Basuda had taught classes alongside other experts on how to survive. Luke's job was to educate everyone on health and well-being in the subzero environment. Mainly it was about how to avoid frostbite and trench foot. The mountains weren't nearly high enough to worry about altitude sickness. Besides that, it had been relatively boring days. Everyone had relegated themselves to their rooms as the weather wasn't exactly conducive for conversation. Even in their room, Basuda and Glazkov kept conversation to a minimum. A huge change compared to their comrade.

Laid out in front of Luke was well over 100 different items that he needed to bring. Climbing harnesses, crampons, bandages, blankets, and dozens of first aid items. Slowly he began meticulously packing them back in the bag. In his teenage years, he was much more unorganized, throwing everything haphazardly in his room. However, unorganization could get someone killed on the battlefield. Taking too long to find a bag of saline meant a bled out patient. Every second mattered.

"Hernandez"

The voice broke Luke's concentration. He turned and found Maxim motioning him over with a folder in his hand. Luke walked over and scanned the papers strewn all over the room's small coffee table. The light coming off the fireplace illuminated the hand-annotated maps, crisscrossed with red and blue ink. The DZs and routes were marked and labeled alongside checkpoints. Everything line was meticulously drawn with a ruler or compass.

"You mind taking these plans over to the females", Maxim asked.

"Don't want to go out in the wind?", Luke replied.

"No you're just already standing up", he responded as Glazkov chuckled behind him.

Luke snatched the folder from his hand and grabbed his parka hanging from the post of his bed. He zipped it up and stepped out into the biting Siberian evening, pulling a mask over his lower face. The rows of wooden buildings were filled with laughter and conversation as the Internal Troops garrisoned here relaxed after a long day of winter training. The females were a few houses down. The sun was just below the horizon as Luke set off, snow crunching under his boots. Two sentries passed by, exchanging nods. After a few minutes, he arrived outside. He climbed the stairs and sharply knocked on the door.

After a few moments, the door creaked open. Yumiko Imagawa poked her head out of the tiny opening, trying not to let in the freezing air. Luke pulled down his mask instantly regretting it as the arctic wind swept across his face and held up the file.

"This is the full op write up. Make sure y'all learn it."

Yumiko took it. Then without another word Hernandez turned and walked away disappearing into the rows of houses. The dying sunlight casted a dim shadow stretching for 20 feet as he disappeared beyond the snow drifts.

Yumiko Imagawa shut the door.

"Who was it", Zofia asked, not even looking up from her computer.

"Probably people sick of your motherly nagging" Eliza called from the bathroom.

"It was Hernandez" Yumiko interrupted, "he was giving us the plans for the op"

"Looks like Eliza's future husband wanted to see her", Tina called from her bunk, snickering like a 5-year-old.

"Tina, I will beat your face in", Eliza threatened from the bathroom.

"I wonder if he likes girls with a temper", Meghan joined in.

Those three were such children.

For the past 5 days, after classes, the women had been cooped up inside the wooden barrack keeping themselves entertained by gossiping and annoying the mom of the group; Zofia. It was like middle schoolers at a slumber party. Who was dating who? Which unit was the best? Would Zofia and Ela ever speak to each other? Stuff like that.

Yumiko opened the folder and spilled its contents onto the table. Dozens of maps and guides for each person in the room.

"Zofia, this looks more for you than any of us.", Yumiko said, hearing the Pole get up from her bed with a loud groan.

Zofia gave each paper a quick glance before setting them down and throwing herself in a chair.

"Seems simple enough", she said

"That's it?", Yumiko asked, a little concerned by how quick Zofia went through the plans.

"Yumiko, the Russians already memorized this stuff, and they are the team leads. If they said it then I'll take their word for it"

"Well, I guess that makes sense"

But even then Yumiko could see the routes marked, the Russians were relying on ice that was still fresh to get them over lakes and up a nearly vertical cliff. But Zofia had a point, they knew this environment, not her. Still, her gut told her something was wrong. Zofia stood up, rolling her shoulders.

"Prep your gear, we move tomorrow"

Timur Glazkov leaned into his jumpseat as the plane shook with turbulence, gripping the sides of his seat so hard that his hands were turning white. He wasn't exactly a fan of planes, especially ones that were older than him. The An-2 had been serving with the Russian Air Force since WW2, so he was a little apprehensive about its flying ability. Across from him, Yumiko and Tina spoke to each other over the loud drone of the engines. More disturbing was the American who was napping in his seat beside him. He could hear the snoring above the sound of the engines.

The co-pilot strolled into the cabin and kneeled next to Glazkov.

"We're ten minutes from the dropzone. Get your guys prepped to jump" he said before turning back to the cockpit.

Glazkov repeated the call to the two girls before nudging the American awake. Bleary-eyed, Hernandez looked up at him as if he had just slugged a sleeping bear. Giving an annoyed nod, the American began making sure all his gear was secure while Glazkov began moving down the cabin to the rear door. From its small porthole window, he could see the endless expanse of snow covered trees dotted with large clearings.

Suddenly, the plane hit a patch of rough air and Glazkov hugged the wall as the plane shook. He looked behind him and saw the girls snickering at his blunder and even the airman with a small grin on his face. A rare sight apparently. He straightened himself out and went back to the door.

A bright red light turned on signaling the final few minutes before the jump. Glazkov carefully threw the door open, letting in a blast of frigid wind. He tried not to look down as he stood at the edge, waiting as the team did one final check. Finally, a tap came on the shoulder signaling everyone was ready. He looked back, seeing Hernandez directly behind, with not even an ounce of emotion on his face.

The guy is a statue.

Then again, after talking to him, Glazkov was confident he was the best choice for any mission. The airman noticed him looking back and nodded, giving him a thumbs up. The aircraft shook again, startling Glazkov as he turned his head back to the door. The horizon was beautiful, jagged snow-covered treetops scraped against the blue morning sky. Maybe he could paint it one day.

Before the thought could continue, the light beside him switched to green. It was time to go and Glazkov was more than happy to get off this damn plane. He stepped off into the sky and fell for a moment before his static line deployed his chute, now he just had to wait.