Episode 45 of Freedom Flights is set in May 2025 and will be released in two parts, as I post them. Some events foreshadowed in this episode will take a few months to play out, while others may be resolved in the next part.
A crucial point for some readers, Football = soccer, not American Football, as you will realise, especially given my characters’ nationalities. Also. There are references to a key football scene in Freedom Flights: Episode 23 – Witches Troupe – Part 2, as it impacts events.
I have also made a POV change in this episode. I realised that almost all the modern Freedom Flights episodes are in a 3rd Person Omniscient POV, whereas the Night Witches origin story was written in a single 3rd Person Limited POV, and the Chayka Air creation chapters I’ve written each scene in a 3rd Person Limited POV. The latter is what I’ve attempted to use this time, with some male POVs for a change.
I will continue trying to foreshadow future incidents without making my characters react as if they know what will happen later in 2025… although they might fear what could happen. Also, I want each episode to focus on just a few RL incidents from a specific month, along with character and squadron development.
Therefore, until a just and lasting peace for Ukraine is reached and rebuilding begins, I will continue to write more episodes. Perhaps after that, I can finish writing the pre-2022 growth of the Chayka Family and Chayka Air, their aviation business based in Canada.
We must never forget the brave people fighting for freedom, with too many losing their lives. Let’s pray Western aid and weapons continue to reach Ukraine, despite unexpected interruptions. Assistance must arrive on time to change their fortunes and prepare for the genuine peace that must come soon.
Links to the previous episodes can be found on my Freedom Flights page via the left-hand sidebar.
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Episode 45. Underground Advances. Part 1. Stress Dynamics.
2025
Saturday, May 3rd – Sanctuary, Chayka Field, Volyn Oblast, Ukraine
Chief Warrant Officer Janina Patriksson smiled and nodded at her Assessment Team seated in their temporary office on the lowest level of the terminal building. Then she turned to Sanctuary’s inspiration, Major Vasy Chayka, and handed her a data stick.
“These are our observations and suggestions. As you suspected yesterday, the original designers claimed this area could withstand a plane crashing into the terminal, and the ceilings should support considerable debris falling from the upper floors.”
Vasy inserted the drive into her laptop, and she studied the report.
“I note the side corridors and unused spaces could become bombproof rooms, too.”
“Some of the dividing walls are not load-bearing, while others could be strengthened, although we need to triple-check our calculations. However, we can proceed with some of the expansion, albeit the aircraft work remains our priority.”
“Impressive work, team. I’ll inform the squadron and ask for assistance,” said Vasy, closing the meeting.
As the group disbanded and the maintainers were returning to their duties, Flight Engineer Daria Jankowska made a final suggestion.
“Do you remember Professor Lóránt Bátori and his Dynamic Stress demonstrations?”
“Of course,” said Janina, smiling as she remembered the strange expert with his brilliant ideas… and their pleasurable time together. “You’re going to suggest I track him down via Anatol. My pleasure.”
**
Monday, May 5th – Chayka Field, Volyn Oblast, Ukraine
Dmytro Kovalchuk looked down from the Puszczyk, trying to make sense of the approaching airfield with its neglected buildings and runway. The only pristine area was a grass arena.
“Where are all your aircraft?” he asked Marusya Dudziarz. “Your Tiger?”
Marusya and her other passenger laughed.
“Where the enemy can’t find them… dispersed and hidden.”
“What you see is what the Russians report,” said Janina Patriksson, the original passenger. “A K9 training area with an abandoned terminal and some run-down outbuildings.”
As the Puszczyk descended through the trees, Dmytro noticed figures preparing to hide the helicopter under camouflage netting.
Another greeted Janina as she disembarked with Dmytro.
“How was Dęblin? Did Anatol help?”
“Not exactly him. Flight Engineer Daria Jankowska, please meet Dmytro Kovalchuk. He might know where Lóránt is.”
“If the guy I met in the hospital is your Hungarian professor, then I’ll let you know… soon.”
Dmytro waited while Marusya ensured the Puszczyk was back with maintenance. He then followed her to the arena, where Polina Moroz was practising her football skills.
As always, the slim blonde… and her skill captivated him. He could have watched her all day, but Marusya interrupted her friend.
Polina spun around and threw herself at her lover, kissing him greedily.
“Dmytro, I’ve missed you desperately. It’s been too long.”
“I’d have come sooner if I’d known you were in Ukraine… and hungry. Now I’d stay if I didn’t have crucial work. First, I need your ball mastery.”
“Here in public?” she asked teasingly as she removed her T-shirt.
He laughed and noted her watching friends. “Inside.”
*
Once they’d satisfied their longing, Dmytro admitted his real meaning.
“There’s an amputee football league I play in. My team needs a striker, and I thought of you.”
“Not my body?” She snuggled closer. “I knew what you meant but guessed what we needed. Let’s talk seriously as I give you a tour of the hidden Chayka Field.”
“After first visiting you in Poland and earlier today meeting unfamiliar Witches, there had to be more here.”
*
Sitting in the Zvenigora Restaurant after the tour allowed Dmytro to clarify some details.
“I understand your commitment to the squadron makes it impossible to train with us in Kyiv, but I might have a solution.”
“I commute by air to training.”
“Not quite. But mine needs time we don’t have since the two-day tournament is on the weekend, unless Witches bend time.” They giggled before he continued. “Your arena is the right size as our matches are played on pitches two-thirds of a standard pitch… so perfect. If I can persuade my teammates to move here, would you play for us, please?”
“I’d love to. But you mentioned your crucial work. What about that?”
“We make military drones, as you do. You mentioned utilising your planned Sanctuary extensions, some for workshops. Why not ours?”
“Sounds incredible. What kind of drones?”
“Ground-launched FPV type for the front line. Not like yours, but perhaps we can collaborate.” He winked but avoided saying more. “Did you hear about the amputee football team Khrestonostsi or Crusaders? They formed in Lutsk in late December and began recruiting new members.”
“Too busy flying. Are they your team?”
“We’re nearer to Kyiv, as our coach is there. He’s from Brazil-“
“Home of the ‘Beautiful Game’. He’s welcome here-“
“That’s a problem… he’s a POW.” He had to broach the subject… now. “A teammate, Leonid, met Cauã Pacaembu when they were both having prosthesis modifications. Cauã’s guard was unobtrusive until Leonid mentioned coaching, but now the guard attends sessions too.”
Dmytro watched Polina’s reaction as her frown turned to a smile, and she waved a familiar friend over.
“Sergei, what do you know about security on foreign mercenary POWs? Dmytro’s football coach, Cauã, is Brazilian.”
He thought before replying.
“Not as tight as for Russians. Possibly because Russia won’t exchange him for a Ukrainian. Sadly, Brazil’s stance is neutral in this war. Can we talk to Cauã?”
“His Ukrainian and Russian are basic, and nobody speaks Brazilian,” replied Dmytro.
“But we have two Portuguese pilots,” said Polina. “They may help us resolve this. We also have military police.”
Dmytro knew why he loved this devious and sexy woman.
**
Tuesday, May 6th – Hennadii Udovenko Diplomatic Academy of Ukraine, Kyiv, Ukraine
Lóránt Bátori waited in the entrance of the Diplomatic Academy of Ukraine for his anonymous visitor. Or should it be friend as the message said? He was about to walk back inside to find a seat when he saw her… Janina Patriksson. When she reached him, he embraced her passionately.
“You hadn’t forgotten me,” Janina said. “I prayed you hadn’t, but guessed you wouldn’t. Let’s talk somewhere else, please?”
“There’s a perfect Georgian restaurant nearby. Lunch on me after a short walk.”
He noticed her studying him and wondered if he’d let his appearance slip, or if his limp was obvious.
“Am I still your scruffy professor or worse? Anyway, what’s up?”
“Still my Lóránt. Yes, the Night Witches need your expertise, and yes. I left the University to take charge of the maintenance of their airframes.”
“Still my Janina. My exalted grease monkey Queen. Yet those Valkyrie need my help. Interesting, but food first.”
He led her inside the Chacha Bar, and the owner, a friend, led them to a secluded corner.
*
“You don’t feel confident in your findings, Janina.”
“Always, but your unusual insights would help us. Still interested?”
“When do we leave? How?”
“Now, if you’re free… and by helicopter, naturally.”
Before they could make plans, air raid sirens echoed across the city. Still fearful of raids, Lóránt led Janina to the nearest shelter on Volodymyrska Street.
*
An hour later, Lóránt was leaving Kyiv, glad he was back with the love of his life. Since the Puszczyk was small, Janina immediately introduced him to their two pilots, Sergeant Odrija Kalniņa and Capitã Nilda Silveira. However, with the other passengers, Nilda took over.
“The K9 officers are Corporal Isla Clacher and Kenina, her German Shepherd, ex-RCMP. They’re taking this Brazilian football coach, Cauã Pacaembu, to meet the Witches’ star player. If you need to know more, that’s up to him.”
Lóránt had learnt from Janina about Nilda’s mission to talk to Cauã in Portuguese and understand his manipulation by the Russians, but not much more. Should he pry?
“I need friends,” said Cauã. “If more about me helps, ask.”
“When did you leave Brazil?” asked Lóránt, sensing the war was too raw.
Cauã replied… in Brazilian, so Nilda translated.
“He says, ‘I didn’t want to leave my country. It was home, but I had nothing. A Russian offered me work two years ago. In Russia, but he supplies a one-way plane ticket and visa.”
“You met this man?”
“At their embassy in Sao Paulo, where he gives me everything, even a Brazilian passport… when we reach the airport. Eventually, I arrive in Moscow, where I’m taken to a room that I share with five others. All six of us do dangerous work for little.”
Lóránt recognised the scam, but asked, “You couldn’t leave?”
“Not when they have our passports, and we have no papers. Once our visas expire, we are forced into the army and sent to the frontline with little training. With a gun at my back, I’m forced to fight and almost die. Back then, death seemed like the only escape.”
Studying Cauã, his tragic tale sounded true. Like Lóránt, he had a prosthetic leg, both from a war that was drawing their lives together.
Rolling up his right trouser-leg, Lóránt felt ready to talk… amputee to amputee.
“You lost your leg fighting. I lost mine when my apartment was bombed. I’m free, but we must help you build your future. What do you need?”
While Nilda was translating, Lóránt looked at Janina. She smiled approvingly and then pointed at his leg and nodded.
Cauã replied, a broad grin on his face.
“He thanks you for your friendship and needs freedom to stay here and teach others The Beautiful Game,” said Nilda. “Cauã is not our enemy; Putin and his Kremlin cronies are.” Grinning, she added, “O jogo bonito.”
**
MPA – 1,602 words
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Slava Ukraini
Heroiam slava!
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HEADLINES
Writing Wings 