--------------------------- [b]May 1st, Paris[/b] --------------------------- A door slammed shut with the intensity of a thousand hammers striking iron as a clearly annoyed man rushed into the office of the Comité de salut public, which was a building with a striking exterior and a dull interior, drab carpets and drab curtains lined the floors and windows. Lost in a moment’s thought about how he hated the décor of the reception area oh so very much, he was quickly brought back to reality by the soft, almost comforting voice of a middle-aged man. “You really shouldn’t be so loud, Adrien. Where have your manners gone?” Asked the bespectacled man, without so much as a look up from his newspaper, which he was gazing upon intently. “Sorry Ferdinand, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here right now. I could barely hear my own thoughts with how loud things were getting outside,” sighed Adrien with a slight frown. Ferdinand continued to be lost in the details of the paper as he flipped through it for a couple of moments, before setting it down on the well finished table in front of his seat. Clearing his throat, Ferdinand looked up at Adrien and smiled before he finally spoke: “Don’t worry about it. You get used to it eventually,” said Ferdinand as he turned his gaze to a cheering crowd some distance from the building. The May Day celebrations were concluding with a speech from the President, Jacques Villeneuve. The crowd was ecstatic and charged from his electric words, promises of strength, reclamation of previously French lands and his vision for a France that could act as a beacon of light to the rest of the world. No one could topple the will and power of the French people according to him and they believed it. He went on to say that all oppressed people's of the world can look forward to a future of liberation and freedom, that he would personally see to it. The crowd loved it, these people had a lot of faith in their government, that the people's wishes would be carried out. However, this wasn't the case for everyone, some people still clung to the old ways and the idea of kings or liberal republics. A crowd-pleaser is just that, a crowd-pleaser. You can't please everyone, but damned if he doesn't try to. “You know, Jacques is like a star to those people, and it’s incredible to see,” continued Ferdinand with a wistful expression. “It’s really something,” replied Adrien. “That it is!” Exclaimed Ferdinand with a satisfied smile. “Anyways, I have to get going in a moment. I’ll need to see you and Jacques in a few hours.” “We’ll be there. He ought to be back at any moment.” “Glad to hear it. You take care in the meantime,” said Ferdinand’s junior as he briskly entered an elevator and in a moment, he was gone. Ferdinand picked up the paper and continued to read it leisurely until he noticed a story that took him quite a back: “Belgian king decrees that membership in the Belgian Workers Party, Democratic Coalition and the People’s United Front has been outlawed, that there shall be severe consequences for all involved with these organizations.” He quickly arose from his comfortable seat in the lobby, grabbed the paper and headed to an elevator. He knew that the other members of the ministry and the Committee would definitely have some strong opinions about this turn of events, especially Jacques. He was always interested in whatever impassioned thing Jacques had to say, and he knew that this time would be no different. The real question was whether or not he could get the ministers to go along with whatever crazy plan he devised. Ferdinand knew Jacques would find a way though, he usually did. If he had any admirable trait, it was determination. --------------------------- [b]May 9th, near Lyon [/b] --------------------------- The weather was usually fair and nice in this area, comfortable fields dotted with trees and a soft breeze. A great scene for a picnic or a celebration. Today was not a picturesque day like that, yet, the aeronautical engineers working on Renault Aviation’s newest project in conjunction with the Armée de l'air, did not care in the slightest. Thunder cracked the sky as furious rain crashed upon the earth. Sane researchers and sane pilots would never conduct a test in these conditions, however these were not your average pilots. The researchers watched with great respect as the two aircraft danced with one another in the turbulent sky that threatened to punish their hubris with every strike of lightning and howl of the wind. “It seems the air force’s staff were correct to recommend us these two.” Said one engineer to another, trying to contain the excitement in his voice. “Damn right, I’ve never seen airmanship like this before!” Exclaimed a younger engineer, unable to contain his excitement. “I guess they weren’t lying, you really can’t find guys this good around here,” said a pilot who was sitting nearby, observing the test flights. Earlier he couldn’t have helped but to feel annoyed that he was passed over in favor of those two for the test, yet his tune had suddenly changed after some observation. Aviation had always been his passion, and seeing those beautiful machines in the air filled him with extreme lust. To him, those machines were like beautiful women. The kind that no mere mortal could seduce. Yet, he had every intention of making them fall in love with him. Alexandre was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hardly noticed that two men were standing in front of him, speaking to the engineers enthusiastically. He finally returned to reality when he heard one of them, in a heavy accent ask “So, who’s the kid?” Before anyone could answer, Alexandre had already jumped up and was standing in front of the two men. “My name is Lieutenant Alexandre Delvaux, 15th escadre de chasse!” He exclaimed incredibly proudly as if he had something to prove. The first man spoke up once again, in a thick accent that Alexandre still wasn’t sure of. “Pardon my manners, it’s incredibly rude of me to speak of someone in my presence without addressing them, my apologies.” “No worries, it's alright.” “My name is Capitaine Anton Dashkov, I come from the region of Smolensk. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” said Dashkov warmly. “It’s my pleasure, it’s not every day you meet a duo of such skilled pilots.” “Allow me to introduce myself,” the second man chimed in. “My name is Capitaine Viktor Kupchenko, and I hail from the same homeland as my comrade Anton. I look forward to sharing the skies with you.” “Thank you, it’s great to meet both of you. Hopefully we’ll get to fly together,” said Alexandre excitedly. To him, these two were the exemplars of peak human performance. You couldn’t get much better than this in his eyes. “Come by the bar sometime and get a drink with us. Now then, if you’ll excuse us we need to go write our reports and get drilled by our good friends at Renault. Hopefully they won't put a return to sender stamp on us,” chuckled Dashkov as he and Kupchenko began to walk away towards the quarters. Alexandre couldn’t help but wonder why they came to France. After all, there was no reason for Russians to come here, right? They had their own wars to fight, but maybe they left to escape that. No, they were way too good. Alexandre knew that they’d seen combat and that he had to ask them about their past himself. He’d go on to spend the next week scratching his head, wondering where these amazing Russian wonder pilots came from, and if he’d get his opportunity to fly those fancy new planes that secretly made him rock-hard, even if he didn't want to admit it.