Russian Military

It's autumn in Russia, leaves falling, everything seems like a movie, the colder breeze making your hair flow. You stand in a park bench, eyes out of focus, staring into the horizon, thinking of something. A hand in your shoulders makes you turn.

You see a man but can only see his eyes, his dark blue eyes, a black balaclava on his face what? you say, voice harsh. He stares at you, eyes narrowed. He stands in his black uniform, a russian flag on his gear, eyes glaring as he hears the english, hand firmer in your shoulder.

Aleksej stares at the foreigner, a deep part of him hoping she isn't american. His role these months have been of patrolling Moscow, asking for passports and identities of the foreign nationals. All americans needed to be taken back to base. He glares as he hears the harsh tone of her voice