Episode 34 of Freedom Flights concludes the MIA story in Kursk, at least until the ongoing aftermath back in Ukraine and Poland. I’m being deliberately vague not to spoil the episode, but all will become clearer by the last scene.
As I said in my recent IWSG post, recent international events have distracted me, but since then the repercussions have been hard to ignore when writing scenes set in September 2024. I try to foreshadow future incidents without making my characters react as if they know what will happen.
Until a just and lasting peace for Ukraine is reached, I will continue to write more episodes, never forgetting the brave people fighting for freedom. Let’s pray Western aid and weapons continue to reach the country, despite what some leaders threaten. Plus, that assistance must arrive on time to change their fortunes in preparing 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.
Episode 34 – Wings of the Phoenix
2024
Tuesday, September 17th – Squadron Command Centre, Chayka Field, Volyn Oblast, Ukraine
Capitaine Éliane Nowicki and Captain Lyana Rudenko were wary of how Majors Kalyna and Vasy Chayka would react to their news from Dęblin.
“A logical decision,” said Vasy. “It’s understandable Commandant Raphaëlle Balode and colleagues remained there to oversee the training of your five pilots, Lyana.”
“Also, the chief French maintainer, Adjudant Léana Melnik, and her team of four will show their four Québécois counterparts how to maintain Mirages,” added Chief Warrant Officer Janina Patriksson. “We must never forget maintainers are as essential as pilots.”
“Absolutely, Janina. As your ground crew here proves every day,” said Kalyna. “Whether we call them maintainers or mechanics, they spend more time with the jets than us pilots.”
Éliane and Lyana waited as the Chayka cousins checked something online. Eventually, Vasy explained.
“We see other Ukrainian pilots are training on Mirages in the south of France and will return next year, probably with some of the jets. What happens with your jets and pilots, Éliane?”
“We have all volunteered to fight for Ukraine as we all have Eastern European as well as French ancestry. We’re hoping the jets can fight with us, too.”
“Lyana, where does that leave you and your sisters recruited by Chayka Air,” asked Kalyna. “You’ve trained on Hornets in Canada and are now adapting to another airframe which may be in short supply.”
Lyana whispered with Éliane in French and then answered.
“If there are no more Mirages, we can fly the Hornets currently at Dęblin. Kapitan Adriana Pavlenko also suggested joining your Gripen training programme, although a third airframe might be a stretch.”
“For men, perhaps,” said Janina. “But in this female squadron, most of the maintainers and pilots are familiar with at least two, if not three, like some of us.”
Kalyna and Vasy grinned at each other and Janina. Then they laughed, and the others joined in.
“Although, we’ve had years,” said Vasy. “Serving in the RCAF for two decades. Guess you two are at the ten-year mark, unlike some of our new recruits from universities like Dęblin and Kharkiv.”
Éliane and Lyana nodded, and the Canadian added.
“Like Éliane, my colleagues and I have served ten years. Chayka Air then offered us more flying experience. For example, Lieutenant Tatiana Ojala and I chose to spend six months training on Mirages. As soon as we learnt the Night Witches were recruiting, we all started improving our Ukrainian, as a few of us were brought up speaking Canadian Ukrainian.”
“Vasy and I were lucky to have grandmothers who left the motherland in 1944,” said Kalyna, “So, they spoke the Standard Ukrainian.
“Didn’t they create Chayka Air?” asked Éliane.
“Yes, with their Canadian Ukrainian husbands,” replied Kalyna. “Fortunately, this squadron receives most of its support from Chayka Air friends… or other personal contacts.”
“That’s how my squadron got involved,” said Éliane. “Aline Bonheur and Nadia Lysenko are mutual friends from our academy days, which I guess you know. These other contacts may save this country if other governments become reluctant to assist Ukraine directly.”
*
Wednesday, September 18th – Medical Centre, Chayka Field, Volyn Oblast, Ukraine
Doctor Sacha Proulx was pleased that the new Medical Centre proved invaluable to the squadron. Chayka Air and the Kearney sisters had helped supply and obtain much of the materials and equipment to supplement what the paramedics had already secured.
Chief Paramedic Osinniy and First Lieutenant Estera Sówka had been instrumental in ensuring that nothing was overlooked and that the centre was staffed 24/7.
The athletic doctor found a valuable ally in Osinniy when needing to encourage everyone to maximise their fitness, not just for the pilots coping with the rigours of handling G-forces.
She called her next patients, Albina Koval and Ruslan Medved, into the room.
“Did you want my medical clearance to return to the front line or an estimate of how much longer before I say you’re both fit? Medevac evacuated you from Kursk on Tuesday, August 6th, just over a month ago, so it will be at least a few more weeks.”
“We actually wanted some advice on what we can do now,” said Ruslan. “To save you time, two amputees waiting outside also want to feel useful.”
Sacha decided to let Polina Melynk and Olha Tkachuk in for the group session.
“My first question is, ‘What reason did you all choose to join the fighting?”
Ruslan glanced at the other three, who all indicated he should answer first.
“I’m from a military family with a tradition of only fighting as the last resort. As my father, Major Illya Medved, says, ‘a strong defence should be the first way to deter an aggressor’. But when our motherland was invaded, I had to fight.”
“I totally agree,” said Albina. “I was a professional wildlife photographer and could have recorded the war in photos. Instead, my experience tracking and waiting for the perfect shot, taken with extreme accuracy, convinced me to train as a sniper. Also. I’d already learnt to shoot a rifle as well as a camera with my parents.”
Ruslan smiled and kissed her.
“My dream as a kid was to learn to fly,” said Olha. “While I was training to fly civilian planes, Putin’s thugs invaded Crimea. So, I transitioned to the military and eventually fast jets. Losing an arm hasn’t deterred me. I will fly again, hopefully in a Gripen E.” She put her prosthetic arm around Polina Melynk. “Sorry, sister, that was insensitive.”
“No offence taken, Olha,” replied Polina. “I share the dream, although my accident has left me unsure when I’ll be ready to climb into a jet again. That was why I had to see you, Doctor… Sacha. I keep reliving the accident.”
Everyone nodded, recognising what she lived with.
“We’ve all faced the prospect of that nightmare,” said Olha. “I came close and feel for you.”
Again, she put a comforting arm around her sister-pilot’s shoulder.
“I’ve dealt with such cases in the French military,” said Sacha. “I’ll do everything I can to help. Do you need something to focus on… like helping the control tower team?”
**
Wednesday, September 25th – 28 Ulitsa Shubina, Kursk, Kurskaya Oblast, Russia
A detailed map of Khalino Air Base was taped to the side of the back wall, hidden from anyone spying through the rear window.
Dasha Isakova stood beside Nadia Lysenko and the local resistance leader, Antonina Lagunova.
“I hope you feel recovered enough, Nadia?” asked Antonina, resting her hand on the pilot’s bandaged right arm.
“You’re both concerned because I’ve only been recuperating here for nine days. But you forget I escaped two weeks before your friends found me. I recovered from the torture, and all signs of PTSD have resolved. I’m ready to fly a Russian jet… with Dasha as my co-pilot.”
“And cope with the G-forces?” asked Antonina. “We don’t have the right training aids.”
“But Nadia and I learnt how to survive torture,” said Dasha. “And how to recover quickly. I’ve been exercising with her, and I’m confident she’s ready to steal a Sukhoi Su-30SM. How about the rest of the team?”
Antonina laughed.
“They are keen to cause planned chaos when given the sign.”
Dasha checked the X-marks surrounding Khalino Air Base.
“When Kyiv’s drones arrive, yours will join the party and create the diversion we need. Just remember our call signs for when we’re airborne.”
“We’ll use the Russian ones initially, then switch to our French ones to cross into Ukraine,” said Nadia. “Dasha will be Solovey at first, then revert to Rossignol. Mine will be Feniks and Phénix.”
“Now I understand why we asked Kyiv to tell their border forces to ‘Listen for Les ailes de la Phénix’. They must resist firing at planes transmitting your code,” said Antonina. “I’ve also reminded the maintainers helping us to act normally, especially during the drone attacks.”
“As long as they get our jet ready at the right time,” said Dasha.
“In this instance, these maintainers are even more essential than us pilots,” added Nadia. “Without them, we’re not leaving tomorrow evening.”
**
Thursday, September 26th – Khalino Air Base, Kursk Oblast, Russia
A few days earlier, Dasha had been allowed to park her UAZ Patriot beside the maintenance hangar for the Sukhoi Su-30SMs. She had also been given a military uniform for ease of movement around her area of the base. However, she was simply Private Anzhelina Isakova.
Nadia was smuggled inside a crate Dasha had driven in over the last few days, allowing the guards to search a couple of times. They found innocuous car repair equipment and a tarpaulin, ideal for hiding Nadia, essential gear, and explosives.
While Nadia joined the subversive mechanics, Dasha went to check in with Kapitan Gavriil Lagunov.
“Morning, Private Isakova. We have a busy day ahead. I hear ARC Group in Kazakhstan was pleased to fulfil our order, but when will it be here? I presume you expressed the urgency.”
“Yes, although until I refused, they expected to service the planes. Now, everything should be here before the end of the week. Do you want me to pressure them, Kapitan?”
“Not yet. There are more parts to order from other companies. First, check with the chief maintainers in case they have further requirements.’
“Immediately, Kapitan.” She saluted and left Lagunov’s office.
This was a perfect excuse to scout around prior to the evening’s operation. Some of their dissident maintainers were working in different hangars but still had crucial roles.
*
Nadia was glad her time in Russia had allowed her to brush up her command of the language needed to pass as a mechanic. Fortunately, her technical skills had improved with the Night Witches.
“Unusual to meet a trainee pilot who can hold her own with maintainers,” said one of the rebels, Olesya. “How did you learn?”
Nadia paused before answering in case the wrong people were listening. She played safe with her answer.
“With my squadron, they believed everyone should pitch in when needed. It was a tradition the original Red Army squadron started in the Great Patriotic War. How long before this beauty must be ready to fly?”
“In two hours, by 1800,” said Olesya. “The two pilots will arrive at 1740 to check if there are any potential problems.”
“Right on time,” replied Nadia. “Be prepared.”
*
With a timer set in Dasha’s UAZ Patriot to emulate a direct hit from a drone, Nadia and Olesya sneaked the chest of equipment, flying gear and explosives into the hangar while dissident colleagues distracted those unaware of the plot.
When the pilots arrived, all but the dissidents were sent to help with other Su-30SMs. Dasha came out and offered to take their helmets into the office.
“They’ll be safer there while you check your jet. Can I bring you guys a coffee?”
Both nodded, although everyone knew they’d only take a sip, but that would be enough. She returned with two spiked shots of black coffee
At 17.55, Private Anzhelina Isakova handed Kapitan Gavriil Lagunov a note to report to the commandant, so he left, ensuring he had his officer’s hat on. Nadia saw him stride across the base, knowing he would reach his superior’s office when the sirens failed to warn of the incoming Ukrainian attack at 16.00.
Accurately guided drones from beyond the perimeter buried any suspicions of sabotage. Khalino Air Base became a scene of chaos. Bombs were rigged to explode as drones devastated buildings and many Sukhoi Su-30SMs before their pilots could take off.
Two pilots staggered towards the office where their helmets were. But they only made it inside before collapsing. The maintainers who had readied their Sukhoi Su-30SM for takeoff helped Nadia and Dasha into their flight suits and helmets.
Using the drugged pilots’ call signs, they obtained clearance from the tower. Mechanics frantically cleared debris from the runway as the Russian fighter lifted into the air on wings of freedom.
Switching frequencies, Dasha messaged their allies.
“Solovey and Feniks airborne. Complete Khalino Clearance and vanish.”
“Heroiam slava!” The only reply they needed.
*
Nadia noted how well Dasha piloted the stolen Sukhoi Su-30SM.
“I never knew you’d flown one of these before. Impressive.”
“Too risky to let a Rafale pilot show me up.” Dasha winked at her co-pilot. “I’ve been practising… on a simulator as soon as I planned our escape.”
“Risky, especially as the only Russian jet I’ve flown is a Mikoyan MiG-29.”
“Fortunate then that I got to fly the predecessor, a Ukrainian Sukhoi Su-27, in 2018.”
Before Nadia could question this, a Russian voice challenged them.
“Solovey and Feniks, unless you return to Khalino, our planes pursuing you will attack without further warning.”
Nadia looked at Dasha and shook her head, then pointed downwards. Dasha grinned and put the fighter into a dive, pulling out at treetop level and using terrain-following radar. Nadia switched the radio frequency to the local Ukrainian wavelength.
“This is ‘Les ailes de la Phénix’ under attack by Russian jets. Phénix and Rossignol now flying around Sudzha towards Ukraine. Assist, over.”
Four Vympel air-to-air missiles appeared on the Su-30SM’s radar, so Nadia activated the two SAP-518 jamming pods on the wing tips. The pods created false targets and jammed the four missiles’ active radar guidance.
Although the missiles missed, one enemy Su-30SM was closing within range to attack with its cannon. Dasha executed a Cobra manoeuver by reducing speed and abruptly raising the jet’s nose momentarily to a vertical and then slightly past vertical attitude. This quickly decelerated the aircraft, causing the pursuing fighter to overshoot, so Nadia shot it down with cannon fire.
Meanwhile, the second Russian Su-30SM was targeted by Ukrainian ground defenders and downed, the pilots ejecting, to be captured along with the pilots from the first pursuer.
“Sudzha Ground to Rossignol and Phénix. Superb flying. Thanks for the prisoners. Bon voyage. Slava Ukraini.”
“Rossignol and Phénix to Sudzha Ground. Heroiam slava!”
As they approached the border, Dasha climbed to the Su-30SM’s service ceiling of 17,300 metres. Nadia continued transmitting to all Ukrainian forces.
“Rossignol and Phénix requesting safe clearance for ‘Les ailes de la Phénix’ into Ukrainian airspace.” Nadia suddenly stopped transmitting and hastily put the urgent message on repeat, then her head lolled.
Dasha grasped her hand and felt her pulse, which felt weak. She had to land the plane soon, but beyond the range of Russian reprisals. Nadia hadn’t slept for hours, and the Russians had brutally tortured her in Malaya Loknya Women’s Prison.
**
Front Line, Sumy Oblast, Ukraine
“Welcome to today’s Kearney Encounter with Clodagh and Darina, presently delivering aid in Ukraine. We’re somewhere near Sumy, and our convoy has brought drones, medical supplies, and other essential items to another unit fighting for freedom. This is thanks to donations from fellow Canadians and supporters worldwide.”
As their online audience for their live podcast sent greetings with Ukrainian flags, Darina began reading many of the comments aloud. Their fixed camera was centered on the sisters with two large banners behind them affixed to the wall of their temporary accommodation. On one side was the coat of arms of Ukraine, the golden trident or tryzub on a blue background. Alongside it was a battalion flag including a green heraldic cross surrounded by a laurel crown.
“Today, some of our volunteers have delivered key supplies including an armored Toyota truck to the Shostka Border Detachment of the Eastern Department of the State Border Service of Ukraine,” said Clodagh. “Their units have seen extensive combat since the Russians invaded on February 24th, 2022. One of their officers, callsign ‘Porokh’, has agreed to talk to us. Welcome, Porokh’…. laskavo prosymo Porokh.”
The screen view switched to an older uniformed Ukrainian woman.
“Greetings friends of freedom. Thank you for everything you do for us.”
“The Shostka Border Detachment has been fighting the Russians since 2022. Was that when you joined?” asked Darina.
“Not exactly. My husband and our son joined the Detachment when it was formed in 2018 to strengthen our border with Russia. Both were brutally killed by invading Russian soldiers in May 2022, defending Shostka. I was grief-stricken but had to join within weeks to continue their fight… now for over two years.”
Some of the comments included questions, so Clodagh read one aloud.
“Red Cardinal asks, ‘Porokh, has your unit served just in Shostka district or further along the front?’ We’ll presume since the war started.”
“At first only in our raion… our district. But as the enemy advanced along the whole border, we had to join other battalions fighting to defend all of Sumy oblast. They have destroyed village after village but talk about liberating us. From what? From our lives? Some of us spoke Russian… never again.”
The podcast screen changed to footage of skeletal buildings, devastated settlements, and towns turned to rubble from incessant artillery attacks and aerial bombardment.
“Our next question is from Osinniy. ‘We’ve seen this destruction reported worldwide and learnt of the casualties on both sides. What have you witnessed?’ For those who don’t know Osinniy is a paramedic serving in Ukraine.”
“I will start by thanking Osinniy for all her invaluable aid, including to my unit when she was a Hospitalier medic. What I witness each day is homes destroyed, innocent people forced to flee, soldiers dying in pain. The Russians even abandon their own wounded. We are left to help them… or our paramedics try to save them. I’ve lost friends as we fight for every corner of our land. The worst is when we find ordinary folk executed by the monsters who order the brutality.”
Porokh had tears as she spoke these words, and the Kearney sisters came and comforted her.
“We can pause or stop if you want,” said Clodagh.
“I will not stop fighting or talking until we have a just peace,” said Porokh. “But then as we rebuild Ukraine, I will remember every costly sacrifice and talk about these.”
“What do you and your fellow soldiers see as a just peace?” asked Darina. “Are you unwilling to make unjustified sacrifices?”
Porokh smiled before replying.
“I like your questions as they recognise we do not waver. Putin’s demands are always for unjustified sacrifices even from his own troops. Just peace means all our territory back. Crimea should be included, although I understand a compromise might be needed there. Maybe Russia can return that later. But we fear Putin breaking another treaty unless there are security guarantees. We need to be able to rebuild our country in safety. We fear Russia rebuilding their army and returning as they always do. Then, who will stand with us?”
“You are right, Putin must not be allowed to rebuild his forces so he can invade again,” replied Darina. “The western allies must guarantee a peace that ends this war forever. Putin, the aggressor, cannot be rewarded for his illegal actions. I’m sure our supporters, like our Canadian volunteers, envisage our countries securing a just peace.”
As messages of agreement and solidarity scrolled up the podcast screen, the sound of a low-flying jet drowned out more conversation. When the noise died down, a camera panned to a doorway through which a soldier appeared with a video camera.
“I filmed that jet. It was a Russian Sukhoi Su-30SM flying westward but not being attacked by our ground defences.”
As footage of the low-flying jet was shown, Porokh talked to colleagues about the incident and then explained.
“Our forces didn’t fire as the pilots were transmitting in Ukrainian, ‘Rossignol and Phénix requesting safe clearance for ‘Les ailes de la Phénix’ into Ukrainian airspace.’ We were told to listen for a specific phrase last night.”
“In French, ‘Les ailes de la Phénix’ is from two Franco-Ukrainian pilots attached to the squadron we visited on the day we arrived,” said Clodagh.
“The Night Witches,” added Darina. “We’ll arrange an interview with those two pilots who will have a fascinating tale of how they liberated a priceless fighter-bomber from inside Russia. Probably in our next live podcast when we’ll also talk to a local expert on Ukraine’s crucial grain exports.”
“Now back to your questions to Porokh from the Shostka Border Detachment,” said Clodagh.
**
MPA 3,378 words
Slava Ukraini
Heroiam slava!
Writing Wings 
