A very long day

via letchikleha

The day was long, this day was really too long.
Eyes like obozhёnnye light welding, tears. The pilot closed his eyes and tilted his head






1. He was no longer young, but still not very old. Years spent in the sky, the pilot learned to relax for a few minutes, without losing control over the situation. No, he was not Stirlitz not slept for thirty minutes, after which the new forces took up his job, he was an ordinary man, just not accustomed to the normalized working day.

The summer flight schedule is completely different from the winter and on weekends you can only dream of. Of course the conditions of work and rest are observed, but how shall I say? Legally enforced. Really busy day event turns him into endless night.
It was necessary to perform a flight on mrashrutu: Ufa-Greek island Rodos- Moscow (Vnukovo)
First, passengers crew sent to Ufa, where pilots and flight attendants slept in the hotel, and the next day performed their flight. All is certainly nothing but odinm this flight is not ended.
Samara -Rhodes-Vnukovo, Vnukovo Kos -Lower, Chelyabinsk -Antaliya, Antalya Belgorod Antalya, Antalya Perm- moon ... And so on without end.




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6. Over the past two months, the pilot was at home all week.
Cat has grown considerably, the trees in the yard were covered with dense foliage, and the speedometer favorite car has not added any kilometer. The usual philistine life goes somewhere in the side, somewhere in another dimension entirely.

The pilot noticed that sometimes stopped thinking of Russian and becoming increasingly difficult to maintain communication in the mother tongue. An eerie blend of Turkish, English, Russian, and more God Zaneta any adverbs, have developed such a terrible celestial Slang, neither a scholar nor for any money not decipher and understand a short dialogue between the dispatcher and the crew of the aircraft, and no matter what country will belong to this the crew and the aircraft.
Today, flying out of Ufa, the pilot knew what a difficult flight. According to the forecast, most of the route is tightened a huge weather front. Tall and strong thunderstorms are expected almost to Greece itself. And so it happened. Take off, Boeing immediately buried in a cloud of lightning. Winged car dodges and is rapidly gaining altitude. Shakes, throws, beating on the body drops of summer rain, like a drumbeat on the evening lineup in a camp. A little more and let the clouds, drifting over the horizon ahead of the sun and the four hour journey.
The pilot was accustomed to not setting sun. He knew that when flying from east to west the day or night and will end at whatever time he went out, still arrive at the same time. Such flights especially exhausting.
Above the clouds Turkey ended and now it was possible to bury his nose in the glass and silently consider evening busurmanskuyu ground.
Flying in international airspace easy and pleasant, the service traffic is not straining, trying to straighten the route as soon as possible.
Over the past two and a half hour flight over native land, the pilot changed three times the height of the flight, made more than two dozen turns and language just tired to tell the dispatcher what, where and how. The remaining part of the journey, passed almost in silence and alone. Turkey ended and it was time to go down.
The co-pilot, a young and funny guy. He still does not get tired and eager to do everything yourself. Sam leads the connection, he manages aircraft, writes and fills a mountain of papers. He still has time. He has yet to learn and study, but first of all he needs to learn how to distribute Shobi forces to prioritize and anticipate the following steps. The pilot knew that all this will come with time the young and very soon he will be a real Airwolf, and yet the commander with a sly squint watching young and sometimes gives him advice and is very proud that young, too, love to fly.
So far, he's doing the right thing, just a little bit in a hurry, but it is not critical. Liner obedient and predictable in his hands.



7. Dalaman.



8. The Turks converted to communicate with the Greeks.
-Kalispero Rhodes!
-Kalispero Sky ...
On entering a wonderful view of the city tortured day heat ...



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11. The Greeks welcoming and friendly, they are willing to help in any matter will help to solve any problem.
They swarmed like ants, and the aircraft quickly and accurately perform their work. Filling, cleaning, loading food ... Everything carefully and without delay.



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14. The way home is a completely different track. After Ankara, the Turks give the right to Yalta and Simferopol placed under the control somewhere on the Black Sea. That and the Crimea, it is incomparable night.



15. The night is quiet and serene.
The plane glided almost silently in the cold, velvety-black sky studded with diamond dust infinitely distant stars. And somewhere down there, asleep in their warm beds, thousands of people are not even aware that over their heads high, high right now is beating someone's heart.
Preserver lead insomnia eyelids pulled down like a fishing net sinkers. The cabin gloom and the familiar, lulling sounds. But then something changed in this a measured alone. The pilot scanned the cabin. It's all right, everything is as it should be, but something intangible, something on the level of intuition changed. It is still not clear what. Suddenly, the silence breaks the report going far ahead of such well-nighter as we are. Somewhere over the Dnepropetrovsk thunderstorm. Transaero crew reported that the storm more than 12, 000 meters and they are trying to get around it to the west.
That's it!
The pilot turned on the radar and saw the horizon solid red stripe. Now and Simferopol Manager issues a warning about the huge storm front ahead. Fight with nature is stupid and useless, and sometimes dangerous to joke with her, so it must be either to outwit, or do not interfere. The plane climbs. No, do not climb. Horizon begins to fill with bright flashes of lightning. Lightning everywhere, right and left and bottom. He starts talking. Chats with relish, tasteful. First shiver throughout the body of the aircraft, then a sharp blow and failure. Half a second fall and a powerful kick from the bottom. Young tense and clutching a steering wheel.
 - Leave Vanya!
Pilot knows that in such cases it is not necessary to pinch or anything and did not try to resist. Pilot for a long time in the sky, and these alterations have been to many times.
-Otpusti Him Ivan, let go.
Young with some uncertainty releases the steering wheel. The plane, though easy to sigh, shook himself and obeying all-powerful nature comes in her matter. Bumpiness increases and remained high is becoming dangerous.
Pilot asks Dnepropetrovsk decline.
-Private, We are with you as carp spawn in the reeds, fear not protisnimsya.
Locator glows bright red spots thunderstorm cells. Thunderstorm everywhere. We hear reports of Transaero, they climbed above twelve thousand and bypass glare riding. We do not get, so we are small and we can not fly high, there is a risk to break, and therefore leaving the opposite down, at the basement, where the raging
the flames of hell. There is, though hell, but still safer than at the top.
 - Do not be afraid of Ivan, the tank will not crush a flea!
Glass cockpit of the jet flowed purple lightning



16. They lick the plane, as if the flames. There was a pink glow from below. We go into the gap between the centers of scarlet. The plane, like a glass ball in a spring creek, throws and twists. Static electricity pink ruchmi current flows from the ends of the wings and sometimes the connection is lost, the crackle and hiss of the air. Everything is familiar and predictable, all is as it should be. This work ...
All subsides just as quickly as it began. We leave from the front already over Kharkov and again ahead of silence and cabin stars.

It ended a long day, that's all, and tomorrow will again be a long day or long night ...



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