Aleksandra quadruple checked the straps on her parachute as she stood next to her team members in the C-130. She wasn't afraid of heights, just... well aware of her mortality, and of the tendency of falls at terminal velocity to enforce that mortality in a rather gruesome and spectacular way. 

Even so, she quite enjoyed jumping. The big rush of air, the even bigger rush of adrenaline… that and it couldn’t hurt to keep her skills sharp. Just like the time might someday come when she needed to hit a target with a knife while doing a backflip. If she didn’t know better she would’ve thought her bosses had a sense of humor or something silly like that. 

Unlike Oakley, she wasn’t packing her full kit, no matter how hard the people with doctorates tried, that plate carrier would weigh several metric shittons, and if she didn’t have to wear it she wasn’t going to wear it. Same went for basically everything else she didn't need for jumping, it was heavy and uncomfortable. 

She looked up as Oakley spoke, nodding once she’d finished, giving a quick “Aye-aye” before looking over at Dima. “Хотите, чтобы получить некоторые пельме́ни?” She smirked, lapsing out of English for a moment to speak to the other Russian on the plane, before switching back to heavily accented English, “Assuming the Angliyskiy can suffer our food to exist in their country, at any rate. Failing that, I'm hungry and not a fan of BBQ, whoever sees a promising place first eats free.”

She didn’t wait long for a reply, as Oakley jumped out she was right behind her, doing a backflip off the plane before throwing a snappy salute as she fell through the air.