The Russian Resistance by Simon Brading

Author:Simon Brading [Brading, Simon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sea Lion Press
Published: 2019-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

‘What do you mean you don’t bloody like them?’

Sergeant Potter had taken them to the hangar where the crated Harridans were being assembled one by one. There he had introduced them to the commander of the squadron who were going to be trained up on the British fighters, Captain Sergei Baryshnikov, a short and swarthy, but colourful character with a long thin black moustache. He was wearing a light blue uniform which would have been more appropriate on a cavalry officer in the nineteenth century, with a tall black busby, shiny black riding boots and an immense amount of gold braid on his jacket. He and his squadron had evidently put on their dress uniforms to greet the Misfits, but then gotten so side-tracked at the sight of the aircraft they were being forced to fly that they had completely forgotten to do so.

‘Just look at them! They’re so... so... boring!’ The Muscovite waved dismissively at the two Harridans that had already been assembled and exclaimed in excellent English that was only slightly tainted by an accent. ‘Where are the bright colours to taunt the enemy? The brass pipes to add flair...? There is not even a single cog in sight! Come!’

He gestured for them to accompany him and, followed by the rest of his pilots, they went back out of the hangar and along to the next one in line. He stood in front of the open hangar doors and opened his arms wide, beaming at a group of stubby fighters sitting inside. ‘Now, that is what a fighter should look like! Yours...’ he bowed apologetically, ‘...they are not bad, they are very pretty... but these are Russian machines and would run rings around them. We don’t need those, those... Harried Dames or whatever you call them, we have our own wonderful aircraft.’ He looked lovingly at the machines, which gleamed in the cold morning light.

Gwen gave the aircraft a once over, assessing them, trying to look beyond the bright colours, which put even the Misfit machines to shame - compared to the drab camouflage of the Harridans, which in their factory form didn’t even have the splash of colour usually provided by roundels, they looked like peacocks next to chickens. They were identical, factory-constructed aircraft, with thick, stubby fuselages that ended in blunt noses and short wings which would provide plenty of lift and allow them to roll quickly. They were quite obviously turn fighters and would probably have been very effective, if it weren’t for the unnecessary decorations strewn all over them - brass pipes that led to nowhere and did nothing, golden cogs that weren’t actually attached to anything. There were even lines of semi-precious stones ringing the canopies of a few of the aircraft, which had to ring the pilot with a soft halo when the sun shone on them. She had to admit that they looked lovely and each of the machines was very distinct and individual, but the embellishments only really served to add weight and ruin their aerodynamics.

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