"Agreed," Yura finished eating a pickle and closed the lid on the jar. "So, we move now? If so, we need some means of communication between us. Different countries mean different radio channels, right?" He motioned to Sergei and Masha, who reluctantly stood up, packing in what was left of the food and alcohol. Both approached the T-92 and jumped inside, staying on the superheated armour as short as possible. Moments later the engine shortly revved, a test to ensure it was still working. Masha popped het head out and gave a thumbs up, followed by two fingers.
"So, channel 2 for all of us? Nobody uses it if my crew is right." Yura looked around.