Episode 43 of Freedom Flights is set in March 2025 and is released in three parts, which I hope proves easier to absorb. World-shattering events may occur in future episodes. Some events foreshadowed in Parts 1, 2  3 of this triple-episode may take a few months to play out, while others may be resolved in Episode 44.

Links to the previous episodes can be found on my Freedom Flights page via the left-hand sidebar.

Episode 43. Disarming Attachments. Part 2.

2025

Sunday, March 16^th – Environs of Dęblin Military Air Base, Lublin Voivodeship, Poland

Capitana Tamya Echeverría and her twin sister Teniente Killa Echeverría landed their IAI Kfir C.12s and taxied towards the students from the Polish Air Force University. Once they alighted from their jets and the maintainers started their post-flight checks, Tamya and Killa approached the group.

“That was an instructive display,” said the University’s senior Fast Jet trainer, Illya Borysov. “That was the first time any of us had seen an IAI Kfir flying… well, except for when you leave or return each day. How do they perform against other airframes in your squadron?”

Killa looked at her sister, then let her answer.

“So far, we’ve only faced the squadron’s NATO fighters, though we were matched against F-16s in US-organised exercises in Colombia. Overall, these Kfir-12s have proved surprisingly manoeuvrable, mainly in terms of speed and acceleration, especially climbing. But we struggle in lengthy dogfights with a lot of turning, causing energy bleed. The Mirages have similar problems as they too have delta wings.”

Illya invited the students to ask questions, and one girl went first.

“If the Kfir can climb fast, does that allow the pilot to get into position quickly?”

“Yes, Kfir pilots can target an enemy for a quick attack with that high-speed performance. But we’re vulnerable to later-generation aircraft with superior energy retention and manoeuvrability. We’ve learnt to use our speed to disengage or reposition our Kfirs. Sometimes it can be wiser to climb out of a fight—”

“Although then we usually launch our countermeasures to deal with the air-to-air missiles pursuing us,” added Tamya. “Perhaps we should show you our Kfirs, while our maintainers are still here to answer any specialist questions.”

“It could be useful to observe the contrast with the Aermacchi M-346 Masters you’ve all been flying,” Illya told his students.

While Tamya and Illya led the discussion on the Kfir’s design, one student drew her twin to one side. Killa realised some of the students had brought parents or friends to the display.

“I’m Dżesika, and this is my tata, Alojzy Ryba, who’s hoping his daughter lives up to his achievements.”

Killa was impressed with Dżesika’s command of Spanish, which proved to be a family trait when her father spoke.

“Dżesika will better me. I was only a Captain before I left the Polish Air Force.”

“You outrank me, like my sister. What planes did you fly? I presume your eagle badge means you flew.”

He nodded as he touched the silver eagle on the upper left of his blue blazer above the pocket.

“Yes, I flew MiG-21s and 29s. But we want to learn about you…” He glanced towards Tamya. “And your sister. What brings you here? Did you see much action?  Why did you–”

“Excuse tata,” said Dżesika. “He always wants to know everything. If you’re not busy later, could we all meet for a meal? This evening perhaps?”

*

Zvenigora Restaurant, Dęblin, Lublin Voivodeship, Poland

Killa was glad to get out of uniform for an evening out. Although the squadron had eaten as a group in the Zvenigora, this would be different.

“Do we wait here?” asked Tamya. “Did they say when you discussed the arrangements?”

Before Killa could answer, a waiter led them to the table where their Polish host and hostess were seated with their first guest. Alojzy stood up and pulled a chair out for Killa, letting the waiter help Tamya.

“Dżesika invited her friend, Jerzy… a fellow student,” Alojzy said, indicating the young man next to his daughter, as a waitress showed Illya over.

“I’m pleased everyone could join us. Tata wasn’t sure you all could at short notice.”

“Pilots always have duties,” said Alojzy. “I say that sensing we all will be… and already are at heart.”

While they talked and were brought drinks, they studied the menus and then ordered their food. Once their dishes arrived, the conversation drifted along casually.

But Killa studied Alojzy, wondering whether his interest was purely aviation-led. She hoped not, as he had already stirred her feelings. Looking around the table, she suspected her sister and Dżesika were on the same path.

“You were going to tell me all about yourself,” said Alojzy. “Starting with what brought you all the way from Colombia. Must have been something or someone extremely persuasive.”

Truth or evasion? Would he believe the weird encounter? Complicated. No.

“Freedom and a friend in Ukraine needing help. My sister and I had the training they needed. We’re experienced fighter pilots… like you.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Does that mean experience flying missions against rebels? Or just NATO exercises?”

She hesitated, knowing some operations had been classified, yet eventually reported. Play safe.

“Both NATO training and ground-attack missions during counter-insurgency operations against Colombian terrorists.” She paused to change the focus to him. “You must have flown interesting missions, too?”

He stared into her eyes, trying to disarm her. Not yet.

“Shy or inquisitive? I’ll answer another unasked question as well. My squadron flew our MiG-29s in the aggressor role for the NATO Tactical Leadership Programme joint training in Spain from 2011 to 2013—”

“And that’s when you learnt Spanish.”

“From Dżesika’s mother, who sadly died a few years ago.”

“I’m so sorry… to remind you both as well.” She had to change the subject and noticed his badge seemed different.

“Am I wrong? Have you switched your eagle?”

He chuckled.

“Very observant. This was my grandfather’s. He inspired me to join since he was a real war hero. But one who rarely talked about his service.”

Killa did some quick calculations.

“He must have fought in World War II. Throughout?”

 

Alojzy closed his eyes… remembering.

“From September 1939, fighting the Nazis and the Soviets flying a PZL P.11, which he took to Romania.” He paused.

“Eventually, he escaped to England and flew a Hawker Hurricane during the Battle of Britain. The Poles were already experienced and battle-hardened.” Smiling, he opened his eyes, then touched the badge. “He wore this eagle on his uniform along with his  RAF wings. The green laurel wreath in the eagle’s beak signifies he flew at least seven combat flights.”

“A brave man. No wonder he inspired you.”

“And Dżesika. I’ll give her this eagle when she graduates later in the year.”

Killa glanced over at Dżesika. She and her friend Jerzy were intently involved in Tamya and Illya’s discussion about the best fighters, especially against Russia.

“She’s keen and knowledgeable enough to succeed, especially studying here.”

Alojzy nodded, watching the foursome.

“I graduated from here. The School of Eagles trains us well.” He took Killa’s hands, looking at her fervently. “Help prepare my córeczka, my daughter. Please. And help me improve my Spanish.”

**        

Friday, March 21^st – Chayka Field, Volyn Oblast, Ukraine

The flight from Dęblin made one pass over the airfield, checking the runway extension.

“Soleil to control. Distance seems perfect, I’ll land first. Others will follow in flight order. Over.”

Capitaine Éliane Nowicki brought her Mirage 2000-5F down carefully and well before the end barrier. As the ground crew directed her towards a new hangar built into the ground, the next pilot began her approach.

The F-16 AM made another perfect landing. Capitã Nilda Silveira followed the directions to the hangar and called her waiting wing-sisters.

“Valquíria to Amante and Leoa. Land as designated. Over.”

Tenente Leandra Silveira followed Capitaine Marielle Simonova down and into the camouflaged hangar.

“Control to Dęblin Flight. Welcome to Chayka Field, now open for Mirages & F-16s… but not enemy craft. Over & out.”

*

Zvenigora Restaurant, Chayka Field, Volyn Oblast, Ukraine

Marielle sat down beside her wing-sisters, grinning.

“You talked to your man?” asked Éliane.

“Not exactly. Kalyna sent a crypted message to all F-16 squadrons, including Andriy’s, saying they were welcome. He’ll be here soon, I know.”

Nilda and Leandra chuckled.

“Guess it’s serious,” said Nilda. “Is Andriy the one?”

“She’s never been this besotted,” replied Éliane. “My guess is that they will last.”

Marielle just grinned knowingly.

As the wing-sisters joked and relaxed, the two Chayka cousins came over.

“What do you think of the extended runway and the hidden hangar?” asked Vasy. “We aim to deter unwelcome visitors.”

“I guess your defences are as concealed as everything else,” said Leandra. “From the air, the field appears abandoned.”

The cousins laughed.

“As it’s meant to appear,” said Kalyna. “Most locals believe it’s primarily a training ground for dogs and horses. Planes are incidental. Beliefs we encourage.”

*

Polina Moroz rushed up to where Dasha Isakova, Nadia Lysenko, and Aleks Górski were seated.

“He’s back and coming any day.”

For a second, they looked confused, but they then laughed.

“Your brother, Mykhail,” said Dasha, enthusing. “When and for how long?”

“I wasn’t sure when we learnt mid-March that most Ukrainian forces had withdrawn from Kursk, as there were still small pockets of fighting. But today I learnt he’ll be here by Monday… on ten days leave.”

“Just enough time,” said Dasha, remembering Kursk. “But not long enough.”

**

Monday, March 24^th – Chayka Field, Volyn Oblast, Ukraine

Marielle Simonova was handed a message saying that two F-16 AMs had successfully landed and their pilots were heading to the Recreation Room. Seeing the Portuguese twins at another table, she guessed who it was.

When Andriy Oliynyk arrived, she threw her arms around him, pulling him in for a long kiss. He lifted her and swung her around.

“I had to see you as soon as my sorties allowed.”

“Which meant I came too,” added Fedir Kravets. “We noticed two more F-16s in your underground hangar. Who else is here?”

Marielle pointed across the room.

“More trained pilots to spread the load. Our Portuguese recruits flew their own F-16s via Poland.”

Fedir stared at the twins, then smiled and approached them.

Andriy grinned.

“Now he’s disarmed by them, can we go somewhere… private, please?”

*

Polina Moroz was waiting by the K9 course for her brother with Dasha Isakova. Only the Douglass sisters, Tetyana and Zoriana, were tackling the assault course with their Dobermans. Borago and Steinarr were impressive, speeding through the obstacles as one.

Distracted by the K9s,  Polina and Dasha were unaware of the figures creeping up on them.

“Easily disarmed,” said Mykhail Moroz. “Lucky we weren’t Russians.”

The Witch pilots turned.

”With others watching, any threat would be run down,” said Dasha. “By these K9s, who know friends from foes.”

Polina hugged her brother, then let him embrace Dasha, their passionate kiss prolonged.

Eventually, Ruslan Medved, arm around Albina Koval, interrupted.

“We’re all here long enough that you can continue later,” said Ruslan. “I’m sure we’re not all bunking together. I’m sure Dasha’s bed is yours too, Mykhail.”

*

Conchita guessed  Aaron was planning something. Their dinner for two at the Zvenigora felt contrived. But he gave nothing away for most of the meal. Until coffee arrived with an envelope, which Aaron opened and read its contents.

“Fantastic, Chia. We planned to get married a while ago, so I’ve made the arrangements. Midday on Friday, at the Saint Peter & Paul Cathedral, in Lutsk. The main catholic church in the Diocese and the Bishop has agreed to officiate. It’s just 30 minutes away with no flying duties.”

Conchita looked amazed.

“So soon our families won’t be there. But with this war, anything can happen. Friday will be fantastic.” She licked her lips and added, “I hope we aren’t interrupted tonight.”

*

Conchita and Aaron’s news began spreading around the squadron, gradually triggering wedding plans for others as well… once they heard.

*

Some were busy, like Andriy, gently savouring every part of Marielle’s exquisite naked body. Her moans of pleasure rose and fell until hours later, when they lay back sated.

“Many thanks, chéri, we needed that,” said Marielle. After a while, she asked, “Will Fedir be expecting us back?”

Andriy chuckled. “Unlikely with those stunning twins, and Fedir’s disarming approach. But which one has he chosen? More likely both.”

After a while, Andriy rolled closer to Marielle. “I’m aware of the risks we take every sortie… and I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me… as soon as possible?”

She pulled him on top of her.

“Of course. I’ve been desperate for you to ask. How quickly? Before you must leave me again, please.”

***

MPA: 2,060 words

Slava Ukraini

Heroiam slava!