Inside the Mess Hall there was an enormous sortiment of people from all over the EU and even some outside of the UN's borders. Vladimir was one of the many personal equipped to this military base, he was sitting casually by his table, all to his lonesome. Being the only Russian person on the base, at least to Vladimir's knowledge he would sit alone, it didn't hurt him or touch him to any extent due to the fact that he was raised in Russia, following the Russian way of military development. He had no worries, he had ripped himself of most of the emotional connection's he'd normally had to the best of his ability and the only thing he was doing right now was going over the personal files for Excalibur flight, which he had been assigned to. He spotted a match between two Israeli pilots rather quickly, he found another match between another two pilots, Everett and Zola, one African and another one from Singapore. He saw another pair, they were apparently brothers. Vladimir was surprised by the number of pairs, however he didn't care as long as they would do their work, just like he would. A machine is what they need to be, a machine who's every single cog and gear works in perfect tune, no error's allowed, one single delay could cost unreplacable damage.

He had taken one cup of tea, the UK delicacy, as they told him back in Russia. This would be the first time he'd tasted tea from the UK. He never actually took anything else other than one sip of tea from his cup, he was so engrossed into the plentiful paper's he'd been given at his own arrival, he, as an information and control freak, simply had to know EVERYTHING which he had been given the ability to know. But of course, there had to be that one moment where his reading would be disturbed, but this time for good reason. The base alarm had been raised and he'd spotted two, no, three people of his flight moved out of the mess hall as fast as they humanly could in this crowded environment. Vladimir blitzed out from his table and out of the mess hall, just like anyone else.

As a Russian he'd been trained in incredibly rough areas and environments, with a saddening lack of military funding, he'd almost perfected the art's of putting on his necessary high speed piloting equippment and he was in and out almost like a lightning bolt, without a second thought he left the pilot's equippment area and walked out onto the tarmac which held the sleeping demons, or angels if you rather, of war. With the helmet under his arm and side by side with his hips, he walked in a very disciplined manner up to the Excalibur flight's leading figure, one of the two Israeli's he'd spotted in the documents. Once at the necessary 4.5 meter distance from his superior he stopped abruptly and instantly saluted by bringing up his right arm and placing it just infront of his forehead. ''Colonel Ariella Yosef, Major Vladimir Alexandrov at your command.'' He remained at a salut until he'd be ordered otherwise, he knew, as he walked up to his commanding officer, that the Albino MiG-25 2018 stood almost right next to the colonel's own, personal aircraft.

As he stood still the detail's which were encased within the files and document's were flying about in his mind, mentally mapping them and describing anything with a need of description, such as weapons of any kind and their ammunition's. As a member of the Russian information gathering squadron, he'd developed a thing for information, further from what he'd already had, and the result was an almost self created photographic memory. 

He stared into the eyes of his superior, a typical behaviour he'd found in the Russian air force intelligence squadron and something he'd unknowingly grabbed onto, her eyes were showing sign's of eagerness and nervosity. He tried his best to filter the raid alarm's as far out of his brain as possible, however serving his time in Russia he'd seen his fair share of airbase damage and raids, however this would be another one amongst the very few times he'd participated in them, as well as the first time he'd fly the MiG-25 2018 issued to him by the motherland as a possible reserve aircraft to support the motherland in this dire crisis, as well as equipped with certain European mods and tweaks.

The Russian stone face policy would remain present with Vladimir, he is the result of the average Russian military training, a brutal soldier with a lack of humanity, but still his fair share of drawbacks, overconfidence, patriotism, photographic memory, night terrors, lack of sleep, and an entirely other set of drawbacks. With military suicide in Russia peaking the charts globally it's quite certain that military training in Russia is rough.

The thought of war was hovering in the background of his thought's, however he tried to not think of it too much and simply do his duties.