The humming and occasional rumbles of transport engines was a familiar and comfortable sound for the Russian. Growing up in the VDV had ingrained a sense of familiarity into his being that brought a smile to Dima’s face. It was time. Looking around at all of those present, the demo specialist gave a wink and a smile to any who bothered to look his direction and make eye contact. Namely, Aleksandra, who even politely offered him dumplings as the occupants stood and readied themselves as the ramp dropped. “Я не знал, что можно приготовить!” Was the only reply he made before throwing up the universal ‘OK’ sign with his fingers. Once the green light pinged to life, they were off. Feeling his heart pound, the former paratrooper threw himself from the aircraft, hot on the heels of his comrades. 

Looking to his Altimeter, Dima made a mental note to pull his chute at around 600 meters. Glancing away, Dima came to realize that the rest of the crew had zipped far below him, much to his annoyance. Despite the fact that he was falling at upwards of 120 miles per hour, Dima couldn't help but think to himself. [i]They had better leave me some food.[/i] Fueled by the thought of going without a meal, the Russian brought his legs closer together and his arms in towards his sides, turning the calm decent into a full on terminal velocity dive. [i]I [b]will[/b] get my damn dumplings! [/i] If the wind had been howling before, it was roaring now as the over eager man sailed past the Dane and American before stabilizing himself again in preparation to pull his chute. Ensuring that the other two were not anywhere directly above him, Dima glanced one last time at his Altimeter, down at the already landing Aleksandra, and then one more time above before pulling his chute. First, a moment akin to hovering hit before all at once the whole world jerked to a stop and continued on again, this time much slower.

Looking up one last time made Dima finally realize that the intent had been for them all to link up mid-fall. Feeling a light heat rise to his cheeks, the Russian focused his attention back to the ground and his intended target. Searching for a moment before finding his countryman, he smiled while bringing the steerable parachute in for a smooth and graceful ass sliding across the grass. Having cut off the Master Sergeant, the FSB operative gave her a goofy but charming smile. “You're going to make me dumplings tonight,  right?”