Back In The U.S.S.R.

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Prologue

December 14, 1969

Captain Mumei Nanashi watched the powdery snow fall upon the runways of the Vnukovo Aerodrome near the Soviet capital of Moscow through the scope of her M14 rifle. She was perched on top of the terminal building with her warm, brown shawl draped over her shoulders. With her rifle in hand, she swept through the foreign, snow-swept scene carefully. Beside her, a Soviet rifleman of the KGB shadowed her and wielded his own rifle.

The rifleman stole suspicious glances at Mumei. Mumei glared back, speaking in the international language of threatening to draw her pistol - or the dagger of Lady Knowledge - if the KGB man got any funny ideas. For the third time that morning, the wordless, strenuous peace between Mumei and the other sniper.

That, and the presence of a KGB commissar and Colonel Omega Alpha in heavy winter coats watching over their subordinates. Mumei saw the golden eagle on the shoulder boards of Omega, denoting her new rank.

"Stay focused on the mission, Captain Nanashi." Colonel Omega reminded. She glanced at the KGB rifleman and the commissar and hummed, "We're on the same side, I think. At least for now.

Mumei sniffled and rubbed her red nose with the back of her hand. Then, she mumbled, "Yes, ma'am."

The Captain turned her eyes back to her scope. She, the Soviet sniper beside her and the whole swathe of security personnel scattered throughout Vnukovo Aerodrome were all gathered there for the same reason. A large crowd of Soviet soldiers, high-ranking officials and KGB-vetted civilians were gathered at the tarmac. The Soviet leader, General Secretary Leonid Brezhnev, was present as well on an extravagant trail of red carpet. Furled flags of the Soviet hammer-and-sickle were paired with American stars-and-stripes lined that long carpet, but there was hardly any wind to unveil them.

Everyone in the crowd, even Brezhnev, had their eyes turned to the peculiar aircraft landing at Vnukovo. The American Air Force One jet plane.

Omega's heavy coat rustled as she reached for her earpiece to report, "The Eagle has landed, madam General. I repeat, the Eagle has landed."

The Soviet commissar said something on his radio to the same effect.

Eagle, Mumei pondered. A bird of prey.

She watched Air Force One taxi and then come to a halt. The aviation staircase was rolled into place and Mumei swept through the scene one more time, searching for assassins. She held her rifle firmly. Soon, President Richard Nixon emerged and waved to the crowds. Camera flashes illuminated the tarmac, blending in with the white of the snow.

You're not gonna be Kennedy today, Mr. President. I'll make sure of it.

Nixon made it down to the red carpet without incident and he managed to shake hands with Brezhnev. The camera flashes intensified, running like machine guns in a battlefield. Mumei's attention, however, was still on the open door of the plane.

After Nixon, and the key members of his administration went down from the plane, the true international celebrities made their appearance. The ones that Mumei was waiting for. Irys, the famous Nephilim songstress, appeared together with the leader of the Eleventh Council, Baelz Hakos. They wore matching traveling coats and looked like models showing off the latest fashion from the London High Streets.

A strong gale blew through the tarmac and Irys nearly slipped down the aviation staircase. Thankfully, Bae held onto Irys firmly and kept her from falling off the deep end. Irys clung onto Bae after that and the Representative of Chaos struggled to free herself from the Telstar Nephilim's arms. Cameras of the news media snapped up the tender scene. Photos, radio segments and television clips of the two were hot commodities West of the Iron Curtain. The Soviet people would now see their first glimpses of the second biggest phenomenon from the West after The Beatles there at Vnukovo.

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