Budapest » [Clintasha]

Chapter Twenty-Five: Able Archer

With reports of planned missile strikes from the US to the USSR, tension was raging between our two nations. Pre-emptively, we aimed our Perishing II missiles at the capitalist pig-pen and agents were deployed to investigate rumours of DEFCON one.

A small handful of agents from Department X - comprised of me, Alexi, James and Yelena - were to be deployed immediately to Belgium, under deep cover. We were dressed in the same clothes as the American troops and given false identity cards - perfectly replicated we were assured. James' hand was covered by a pair of gloves he wore.

It required I learnt a language not yet known to my tongue: French. I picked it up naturally with the amount of languages I had been tutored in over the years. How many years, I wasn't sure. But that was just one of many things I wasn't sure of, thanks to Alexi enlightening me.

I was escorted to a new unit of the Red Room training facility I'd never seen before.

In a snake of people, with armed soldiers escorting us at head and tail, we were lead to an airstrip.

The winter air was cool and crisp around me, and sharp in my lungs. Clouds of my breath billowed before me and wisps of it trailed in the snowflake-studded air. Beneath my boots, snow crunched, conforming to the shape of my shoe as I plunged my foot into uncharted terrain.

Being early November, the black tarmac had been compromised with a sheet of ice and snow and hazardously eaten up with potholes. The airstrip was the forerunner to the hangar; a building of such scale I hadn't seen since - the name escapes me - my home town.

"I didn't realise there was an airstrip..." I uttered to Alexi, my brain trying to comprehend the enormity of the structure.

"That's because they don't want people knowing there's an easy way out of this facility..." He whispered closely, remnants of his words twizzling in the air. "This is where I spend most of my time..." he hummed happily back, smiling down at me.

I could only imagine the dazed look on my face as I gazed up at the building.

"How come?" I cast my eyes over to him as we approached the corrugated iron structure, it trembled and flexed in the wind.

"I'm a pilot..." He snapped me a friendly wink and held the door open for the string of people to ensue.

Once inside, we were lead to the AN-72 jet with its open hatch and already woken engine. James and Yelena climbed in ahead of us and settled in the interior which was nothing more than a cylindrical body with plastic seats.

"How do you fancy being co-pilot?" Alexi offered, smiling nonchalantly at me and leaning against the small plane.

I'd never been in a plane, let alone flown one. "I can't fly a plane..." Guilt slowly spread across my features and embarrassment ignited in my gut.

He nudged me familiarly with his shoulder and looked me up and down with a secretive smirk. "You don't need to. But I'll teach you what I can." Something about the optimism in his eyes convinced me it wasn't such a bad idea.

"You're on."

And a sunny smile bloomed on his face. "After you..." With a gentlemanly swing of his arm he gestured me to lead on.

I clambered into the tin-can of an aircraft just in time to see Yelena canoodling fondly with the man I had been so deeply infatuated with, her lips pressed to his neck and palm splayed across his chest. She gave me the same malicious grin from through his knotted strands.

I wouldn't give her the reaction she wanted. I wouldn't allow emotion to poison my expression, actions or words. I didn't bat an eyelid and headed for the cockpit, with Alexi trailing behind.