private,” said Barkov.
Corovich half slid, half climbed back toward the rudder. He started to ease his right leg over when the MiG creaked again. He turned his head toward the sound and saw that the canopy was giving way.
Oblivious to the danger, Barkov spotted a set of snow-dusted tracks and followed them away from the tree. With growing concern, Radchek and Vukarin watched the private from the ground. “Easy does it, private,” Radchek said. Necks craned, the other troops joined the officers. From their vantage point, Corovich was veiled by the branches. They could, however, hear the creak of metal and crack of wood.
Corovich froze in fear and watched the canopy separate from the rail. Straddling the tail, the wreck underneath him shuddered. On the ground, the soldiers called up to him, but he dared not look down.
“ Get out of there.”
“ Come on, Corovich.”
“You can do it.”
He could not do it. With the snap of breaking wood fibers filling the air, Corovich managed to look down. Through the branches, the crowd of soldiers urged him on, pleaded with him to get off the plane. Corovich turned toward the trees. Another tall pine stood less than 10 feet away. He swung his leg over the fuselage. Below, he thought he heard the soldiers cheer.
And then, there was a final, thunderous snap as the canopy gave way. Corovich felt the sudden sensation of flying and out of the corner of his eye, saw that the MiG, too, had again taken flight.
The private slammed into the branches of another tree 50 feet away. Tumbling downward, his body plowed through branch after snow-covered branch before hitting the forest floor.
The MiG’s short flight ended much the same way. It smashed into several tall pines. This time, it found its way to the ground and crashed into a heap.
Corovich opened his eyes to the sight of Captain Radchek standing over him. The other soldiers clapped and cheered as they poured around the private. In a moment, he was standing again.
Radchek exhaled in relief, dusting the snow from his cap. Vukarin joined him and barely opened his mouth to protest before Barkov called out.
“ Captain Radchek,” he said. They looked over at him. “I think you might find this interesting.” He was studying something on the ground.
“What do you think, captain?” Barkov squatted in the snow. Radchek came up from behind and at first failed to see what the colonel was referring to. Soon, though, he saw what Barkov saw: two distinct sets of tracks obscured by the recent snowfall. One set looked as if something heavy had been dragged behind them.
Radchek followed the trail with his eyes toward a nearby field. “Looks like something was dragged,” he said. “A toboggan, perhaps?” Radchek tried to sound as matter-of-factly as possible, but at that point he didn’t care about the spy. He was still trying to figure out what to do about Barkov.
“Yes, perhaps,” Barkov said. “And those?” Radchek looked at the other tracks. They came from the opposite direction of the first set, leading in from the north to their current position. It was hard to discern what type of tracks they were. Shrouded with freshly fallen snow, they were more like faint depressions.
“ Hard to tell, sir.” Radchek hoped his performance was convincing.
“ On the contrary,” Barkov began. “I think it’s quite clear.”
Vukarin stood with the other soldiers and watched Barkov and Radchek head into the forest. Still fuzzy headed, Corovich approached the lieutenant.
“ Sir, are we going to eat soon?” he said. Vukarin looked at the kid. Aside from the light stubble on his face, he could have passed for 12. He turned toward the other men and saw the desperate looks.
“ Listen, all of you,” said Vukarin. “We eat when the colonel says we eat. Understand?” The soldiers grumbled “Yes, sir” before milling about. Vukarin looked at Corovich, who backed away.
“ Private,” said Vukarin.
Corovich half slid, half climbed back toward the rudder. He started to ease his right leg over when the MiG creaked again. He turned his head toward the sound and saw that the canopy was giving way.
Oblivious to the danger, Barkov spotted a set of snow-dusted tracks and followed them away from the tree. With growing concern, Radchek and Vukarin watched the private from the ground. “Easy does it, private,” Radchek said. Necks craned, the other troops joined the officers. From their vantage point, Corovich was veiled by the branches. They could, however, hear the creak of metal and crack of wood.
Corovich froze in fear and watched the canopy separate from the rail. Straddling the tail, the wreck underneath him shuddered. On the ground, the soldiers called up to him, but he dared not look down.
“ Get out of there.”
“ Come on, Corovich.”
“You can do it.”
He could not do it. With the snap of breaking wood fibers filling the air, Corovich managed to look down. Through the branches, the crowd of soldiers urged him on, pleaded with him to get off the plane. Corovich turned toward the trees. Another tall pine stood less than 10 feet away. He swung his leg over the fuselage. Below, he thought he heard the soldiers cheer.
And then, there was a final, thunderous snap as the canopy gave way. Corovich felt the sudden sensation of flying and out of the corner of his eye, saw that the MiG, too, had again taken flight.
The private slammed into the branches of another tree 50 feet away. Tumbling downward, his body plowed through branch after snow-covered branch before hitting the forest floor.
The MiG’s short flight ended much the same way. It smashed into several tall pines. This time, it found its way to the ground and crashed into a heap.
Corovich opened his eyes to the sight of Captain Radchek standing over him. The other soldiers clapped and cheered as they poured around the private. In a moment, he was standing again.
Radchek exhaled in relief, dusting the snow from his cap. Vukarin joined him and barely opened his mouth to protest before Barkov called out.
“ Captain Radchek,” he said. They looked over at him. “I think you might find this interesting.” He was studying something on the ground.
“What do you think, captain?” Barkov squatted in the snow. Radchek came up from behind and at first failed to see what the colonel was referring to. Soon, though, he saw what Barkov saw: two distinct sets of tracks obscured by the recent snowfall. One set looked as if something heavy had been dragged behind them.
Radchek followed the trail with his eyes toward a nearby field. “Looks like something was dragged,” he said. “A toboggan, perhaps?” Radchek tried to sound as matter-of-factly as possible, but at that point he didn’t care about the spy. He was still trying to figure out what to do about Barkov.
“Yes, perhaps,” Barkov said. “And those?” Radchek looked at the other tracks. They came from the opposite direction of the first set, leading in from the north to their current position. It was hard to discern what type of tracks they were. Shrouded with freshly fallen snow, they were more like faint depressions.
“ Hard to tell, sir.” Radchek hoped his performance was convincing.
“ On the contrary,” Barkov began. “I think it’s quite clear.”
Vukarin stood with the other soldiers and watched Barkov and Radchek head into the forest. Still fuzzy headed, Corovich approached the lieutenant.
“ Sir, are we going to eat soon?” he said. Vukarin looked at the kid. Aside from the light stubble on his face, he could have passed for 12. He turned toward the other men and saw the desperate looks.
“ Listen, all of you,” said Vukarin. “We eat when the colonel says we eat. Understand?” The soldiers grumbled “Yes, sir” before milling about. Vukarin looked at Corovich, who backed away.
“ Private,” said Vukarin.
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