Su-47kv Berkut/caiman

[dragon]

December 21, 2002

One would have thought that after the events that brought Hugo Chavez back into power, things would have settled down in Venezuela.  This was hardly the case.  In fact pressure was not being released at all- it was just building up.  There were almost daily protests in some form or another.  Usually it took the form of a march or concentration by the Opposition during the day- which inevitably led to an ambush and clash with the Chavistas somewhere in the protest march route.  At night the Opositores would have a Cacerolazo at a predetermined time.  The Opositores were usually armed with whistles and flags as they marched down their route, as prescribed by law, the Chavistas were under no such constraints.  Chavistas tended to be armed on these occassions with sticks, rocks, lengths of rebar and baseball bats (at best) or with handguns, rifles and shotguns (at worst).  It was a pretty safe bet that if an Opositor attended enough marches, that Opositor would be ducking bullets and/or rocks and inhaling tear gas, at some time or another.  Some would describe the air over Caracas as smelling of either death (or at least grave danger) it was a combination of blood, sweat, burning garbage, rotting garbage, gunpowder, and tear gas.

Then another degree of difficulty was added to the Venezuelan political situation in July.  More than one hundred members of the military (both active and retired) declared themselves in legitimate disobedience.  They declared the Plaza Francia (which they refered to by its pre-1945 name of Altamira) as "liberated" territory and camped out there.  The media covered them 24 hours a day.  Hundreds of civilians joined them.  

On December 2, 2002 the Opositores used what Americans would call "the nuclear option".  They finally used oil as a weapon.  PDVSA (the state owned oil company) declared itself on strike.  On December 5, 2002 the PDVSA tanker PILIN LEON declared itself in legitimate disobedience and ground itself in Lake Maracaibo.  Soon other tankers joined the PILIN LEON in protest.   Opositores gathered at Altamira and at the PDVSA Offices just behind Francisco de Miranda Air Base.  Chavistas gathered in Plaza Bolivar and PDVSA Offices in La Campin~a.  On December 6, 2002 a pro Chavez immigrant named Joao De Gouveia emptied his Glock 9mm pistol into the crowd at Altamira.  Three were killed, one was a teenage girl, and many were wounded.  On December 9, 2002 pro-Chavez supporters attacked  GLOBOVISION (an all news station that tended to side with the opposition).  Still, the PILIN LEON case was a thorn in the Government's side.

"Which is why I am here today" grumbled MATADOR under his breath.  He had lost count of how many orbits he had done around the PILIN LEON.  He did not want to think of how many flight hours this had killed on his airframe.  "PAPUPAPA, see anything interesting? "
PAPUPAPA looked up from his binoculars, "One of the SUCRE-class frigates is covering one of the CONSTITUCION-class gunships.  Civilian boats are surrounding the PILIN LEON.  Nothing new."
"Why do you suppose that beauty queens would be happy about having a square-ish shaped thing of steel whose weight is counted in tons, named after them?" mused MATADOR.  "I wonder about this often.  They barely eat and yet are proud about having this beast named after them.  Pilin Leon won the 1981 Miss World competition and she is okay with this.  Heck the majority of the tankers are named after Venezuelan Beauty queens.  I am going to name a multi tonned ship after you even though you are afraid of gaining a few ounces."
"Which goes a long way in explaining the number of times you have been divorced."  Commented PAPUPAPA dryly.  He looked down his binoculars.  "What the f?!"

[dragon]

Through his binoculars PAPUPAPA observed the rather heavy handed response the government had for dissenters.  As the Patrol craft swiveled their guns to menace the unarmed civilian boats surrounding the PILIN LEON (basically telling the civilians to back off or else...), one of them deployed a motor launch full of heavily armed Venezuelan Naval Infantry or Marines- guns drawn.  The marines for all intents and purposes stormed the tanker.  PAPUPAPA did the running commentary for MATADOR.

    MATADOR banked his Cazon slightly to get a better look.  Couldn't this have been done with just a single Coast Guard boat and a couple cops?  Ever since the April 11-13 events, government responses tended to be heavy handed, with some part of the military having the starring role as the goon squad.  Granted, this current protest had hit everyone painfully- which was the original objective.  However, because oil was not getting refined into gasoline, gasoline was also in short supply.  Because of the fuel shortage, trucks could not get food supplies to the stores.  Therefore food was also becoming short.  The Opposition had badly miscalculated how much damage the Chavistas could take and their response.  "I suppose there were better ways to handle this.  Now we radio back to base for further orders."
    "HEY, HEY!!  HO, HO!!  CHAVEZ AIN'T GONNA GO!" chanted CHIGUIRE from his Cazon.  "Can we go home now, MATADOR?"
    "Affirmattive.  Change your heading back to Palo Negro." MATADOR had gotten his orders just a few seconds before.  He didn't have to turn around to feel PAPUPAPA's fury.  "PAPUPAPA, I know what you are thinking.  Take it easy.  That's an order."
    "Yes, Sir."  Responded PAPUPAPA.  The rest of the flight was spent in silence.

    The two Cazones landed back at Palo Negro.  The four crewmen walked back to debriefing.  CHIGUIRE and his RIO, CORRONCHO, were chanting pro-Chavez slogans.  It was an obvious attempt to goad PAPUPAPA.  It succeeded.
    "Here you are clapping like trained seals, does this response by the President not worry you at all?!" Shouted PAPUPAPA.  "Who is he going to put down next?"
    "They [the Opposition] will not return [to power]" replied CORRONCHO almost on cue.  Maybe PAPUPAPA had a point pondered MATADOR.
    "Look PAPUPAPA, this action by our commander had to be done" said CHIGUIRE.  "We are importing gasoline.  Gasoline.  It's like if the French were importing Cheese and Wine.  Could you imagine that?"
    "He hasn't kept a single promise.  Why do you follow him?"  said an angry PAPUPAPA.  "If he actually kept his promises and actually spent the oil money that belongs to the nation on projects here in Venezuela, I might give him the benefit of the doubt.  But that hasn"t happened, and it won't happen.  This use of power makes me angry."
    "Knock it off, all of you."  Ordered MATADOR.  "This conduct is unbecoming of Officers in the Venezuelan Air Force.  Anyone saying one more word goes into the brig until after New Year's.  Do I make myself clear?!"
    "Sir!  Yes, Sir!"  They responded in unison.

December 24, 2002
A shopping mall on the East side of Caracas

    Because he had been on duty since the beggining of December, MATADOR had been unable to buy Christmas gifts.  He was wearing his Dress Uniform.  He could hear the people every so often murmur arbolito de navidad [Editor's note: Christmas tree] and aceituna [Editor's note: Olive].  Being Christmas Eve he didn't think too much about it.  Every so often someone would spit on the path he had just walked on.  He caught on that it was in reference to him as a military man.  He would have to ask Ignacio later on about this and what it meant.  He then continued with his shopping.  

       

[dragon]

It was Christmas Eve at MATADOR's parents' home.  As usual his mother prepared the traditional Christmas feast (though much less than before, due to the high prices of just about everything).  Friends and family milled around.  Traditional gaitas played on the CD player, in this case "Amparito".  MATADOR and Ignacio sat in his father's study, one of his favorite rooms.  Aviation memorabilia was spread around the room.  
    "Ignacio, what do the expressions Arbolito de navidad and Aceituna mean?" said MATADOR absent mindedly swirling his whisky on the rocks.  He looked up and saw an embarassed expression on Ignacio's face.
    "These are two new slang expressions that are derogatory towards the military" said Ignacio.  He looked apologetic.  "Arbolito de navidad as you know is a Christmas tree, they are green and the balls are there purely for decoration.  Aceituna is an olive."
    MATADOR picked one from his plate and twirled it around.  It was pitted and had a red pimento shoved in its core.  "I see.  Green on the outside and red on the inside.  After our performances this year, I suppose we deserve that."
    "So why didn't you guys do anything to protect the people?"  asked Ignacio.  MATADOR's eyes settled on an aluminum panel from a DeHavilland Vampire.  It was from his grandfather's aircraft.  The one that he flew on that January 1st, 1958 in the early morning.  His grandfather and other pilots from the Venezuelan Air Force had flown their Vampires and Venoms that morning to fire their shells into Miraflores Palace and to fly around Caracas to hit other Government installations important to the regime of General Marcos Perez Jimenez.  It was mostly symbolic, but it got the ball rolling, even though all the rebellious pilots were arrested and jailed for their actions.  There was even news footage from that day showing his grandfather's Vampire streaking between the twin towers at El Silencio in downtown Caracas.  A pretty amazing feat of flying even to this day.  Eventually the people rose up against Perez Jimenez and he fled Venezuela on the 23rd of January 1958.  "Why didn't you do something like Grandfather and your Dad when things got bad for the people?"
    "Maybe they are much better men than I am"  The TV set was on and was showing the Dissident military at Plaza Altamira.  PAPUPAPA was among them.  MATADOR frowned.  "and now I have no RIO.  What's next?"
   

Eventually the PDVSA strike or Paro Petrolero as it was known fizzled.  Many were fired en masse from PDVSA by Hugo Chavez.  Officially it ended on February 2nd or 3rd.  The opposition decided to topple Hugo Chavez by legal means.  According to the Bolivarian Constitution they needed to gather enough signatures to petition a Recall.  The February 2003 attempt was turned down and declared null by Venezuelan Electoral Authorities (mainly Chavistas) because of technical and legal requirements.  They tried again in November 2003 and succeeded in getting a Recall vote against Hugo Chavez scheduled for August 2004.  Even though technically Ignacio was not supposed to vote in this election, he signed up for it as an Opositor.  The vote was going to be one of the most modern in the world, with computerized voting machines and everything.  

The Dissident military became persecuted, and went "underground".  Many went to other countries, leaving Venezuela forever.

[dragon]

September 2004
Charles DeGaulle Airport

MATADOR looked at his watch for what seemed to be the millionth time.  Inefficiency had crept into the travel agency the military used to book its flights, which meant impossibly long layovers at some point in his journey- he needed to find a way to take advantage of this inefficiency.  He had checked the bookstore for a military tome of some kind, all he could find was a book on air power co-written by Tom Clancy.  It would not be long enough to kill the hours until his flight back to Caracas was called.  Someone in the Venezuelan Military had realized the practical implications of President Chavez's rhetoric against the US- by sheer logic eventually a point would be reached where the US and its allies would be unwilling to sell arms to Venezuela.  Obviously Venezuela had to go shopping.  MATADOR had been detailed to go check out some of the aircraft that could be had given the US constraints.  This last trip had been to check out the Grippen in Sweden.
    In his opinion the Grippen was a capable fighter, just that it had too many parts of US origin.  MATADOR also liked the idea about using the roadways as emergency runways, just that it would be unrealistic in the case of Venezuelan roads- lately Venezuelan roads tended to resemble the surface of the moon which is a surface not conductive to performing flight operations.  
    He motioned to the bartender to pour him another Whisky on the rocks.
    "Jose Luis?"  Said a voice MATADOR had not heard in many years.  He turned to the voice
    "Carlos?  Hey man!  It's been a long time!"  They performed the same song and dance routine many Venezuelans did when they met one another after not seeing one another for a long time- they looked each other over to see if there was any hint of their political polarity (Chavista, Ni-Ni, or Opositor).  They couldn't find any obvious sign on each other, so they decided to chance it and talk like the old friends that they were.  "How long has it been?"
    "High School, I think"  MATADOR and Carlos had been friends from the old neighborhood.  They had played soccer together, chased the girls while in High School, gone to the beach on weekends, gone to parties, etc.  They spent the next couple hours catching up.  MATADOR found out that Carlos was a businessman now living in Florida.  Carlos spoke about the increasing numbers of Venezuelans he met at random places like Indianapolis, Des Moines, Helsinki, places where one did not expect to find other Venezuelans.  He spoke about the suburb of Miami called Weston that had so many Venezuelan expatriates living there, that the joke was that it's nickname was "Westonzuela".  It was something that MATADOR had heard about but was sure that it was merely a rumor, a rumor now confirmed- a Venezuelan diaspora had been in effect since 1998.  
    "So, have you run into the Williams family?"  asked MATADOR.  The Williams family had lived a few houses down the street.  They were Americans who had lived in Venezuela for a few years and then moved on.  Maria Williams had been one of MATADOR's first loves.  He found her brother Charlie impossibly annoying in those days.  He often wondered how they had turned out.
    "You know that Williams is equivalent to Rodriguez.  A very common last name in a very large nation."
    "I suppose you're right."  Carlos' flight was being called.  The two friends said good-bye to one another.

[dragon]

December 2005

MATADOR had spent the last few days flight testing just about every aircraft that the Sukhoi bureau had for sale.  The SU-30MK seemed to be the most promising for Venezuela's needs.  The plane was large (just like all other Sukhoi fighters), it was a brute force machine, which usually would have kept him interested in ordinary times.  Without any forward swept planes in the Venezuelan Air Force arsenal he was seriously considering retiring- only he had no idea what he would do once he retired.
    "So, my young MATADOR, what do you think of our SU-30MK?" Asked Viktor Pugachev as he and MATADOR walked away from the SU-30MK they had just flown.  "After a flight like this most pilots would be excited, you seem very subdued."
    "Viktor, for the Venezuelan Air Force, I like it and will give it a full recomendation" Responded MATADOR.  "It is a fine aircraft just not my type of aircraft"
    "What type of aircraft do you prefer?"  Viktor Pugachev had a mischievious smile on his face that MATADOR couldn't see from the angle he was at.
    "I have been a forward swept guy all my life" confessed MATADOR.  "Near as far as I can see, forward swept is going the way of the biplane."
    "Really?"  Viktor Pugachev changed course and headed towards a hangar.  "Come with me.  You must see this."
    MATADOR followed Pugachev to the closed and darkened hangar.  With a dramatic flourish Viktor Pugachev flipped the switch that turned on the lights in the hangar.
    It was love at first sight.  MATADOR was breathless.  Observing from a distance, Viktor Pugachev could only smile as he recognized a kindred spirit.  The plane was forward swept, with canards, an internal bomb bay, and it was big.  Like all Sukhoi fighters it was big.  Almost as big as a C-130H Hercules.  Above all it was a brute force machine.  
    "Where have you been all my life?" whispered MATADOR as he caressed the fuselage with his gloved hand.  It was like if he was petting a favorite horse.
    "Would you like to fly this beast?" Asked Viktor Pugachev.  "This SU-47MK is very different from anything else we have."
    "How soon?" asked MATADOR.  
    Viktor looked at his watch.  "How about after lunch?"
    "Why not?  Let's get something to eat then."  MATADOR finally looked excited.  "Now this is my type of plane."

[dragon]

December 2005
Viktor Pugachev's apartment

MATADOR, Viktor Pugachev, and a two other of Sukhoi's Test Pilots sat in the living room laughed and drank vodka.  It was already pretty late at night and they were still talking airplanes, aerobatics, and air battle tactics.  Obviously Mrs. Pugachev was used to this type of thing as she quietly retired to get some sleep, while her husband talked airplanes and motioned with his hands.
    "So you say your SU-47MK can do the Cobra?" asked MATADOR.  Pugachev and the other pilots looked at each other laughed.
    "MATADOR, that beast is so overpowered that the Cobra is considered a basic maneuver in that one."  Said Pugachev with a smile and lots of pride.  "It will do the Cobra fully loaded, it will also do the hook, the bell, and a bunch of other maneuvers we haven't been able to come up with a suitable name for."
    "Yes, and many of these can also be used in air combat, given the right situation"  piped up one of the other Test Pilots.  He poured another shot of vodka for MATADOR.  "And if you survive the hangover in the morning, we may even teach you these maneuvers."
    "So what do you think of the beast?" Pugachev sat back in his chair.
    "Wonderful!  I love it.  Unfortunately my government might only allow for the SU-30MK."  MATADOR felt it was a shame that the Venezuelan Air Force couldn"t get a squadron or two of these.  Getting to fly these could convince him to stay on.  "Pity.  I could imagine a squadron of these."
    "I think the business guys are conjuring up a deal with your government that you might like."  Pugchev took a sip of vodka.  "A squadron of SU-30MKVs for the regular price and a squadron of the SU-47MKV for 1/4 of the regular price.  First examples of each to be delivered to Venezuela at approximately this time in 2006. The SU-30s will probably be painted as Air Superiority aircraft while the SU-47s will be fitted out as traditional fighter-bombers these we can paint like the rest of your Air Force planes.  This will give your Air Force a nice High and Low mission capability mix.   What do you think?"
    "They might go for it.  But why the low price for the SU-47MKV?"
    "It would be a win-win situation for Sukhoi.  So far your Air Force is one of a handful that have embraced the swept-forward concept.  So if the beast works in your Air Force's service, maybe more sales will present themselves for more beasts."
    "I see.  Now I have a question.  When we were flying all the different models of aircraft Sukhoi has for sale, that there was a section of the cockpit wall full of velcro, what's that for?"  MATADOR saw Pugachev and the other pilot turn to point to the remaining pilot and laugh.  The last one just shrugged.
    "That is Sergei's doing.  He likes music on long trips, so he has this small CD boom box that fits on that spot precisely.  A walkman won't do because of the earphones and helmet thing."
    "I like that idea" said MATADOR.  "I have to find something like it for myself one of these days."
     

[dragon]

Sunday December 3rd, 2006
San Francisco, California

MATADOR was walking up Market street.  He was looking for an old restaurant named Taddich Grill, that his parents still raved about, even though the last time they had been there had been some time in the 1980s.  He was on the return leg of his journey from China flight testing yet another fighter jet.  The Ji-10 could make a worthy successor to the F-5.  As predicted the travel agency used by the Venezuelan Government again had given him an impossibly long layover (12 hours) between flights back to Caracas.  He had gotten himself issued a passport that allowed him to leave the airport for a few hours and check out things from the ground- he had no idea how it worked, but it worked well.  He was disappointed that the place was closed.   He spied a Starbucks coffee shop up the street and decided to get himself a cup.
    "Hey Hey, Ho Ho, Chavez ain't gonna go!"  MATADOR was puzzled about hearing this chant here in the US.  Then he remembered that it was Presidential Election day and that the Venezuelan consulate was up the street.  He quietly observed the happenings from his stool at the Starbucks.  Like in Venezuela the polarization was evident.  On one side of the street were the Opositores and on the other were the Chavistas.  The Opositores sang traditional songs accompanied by a cuatro [Editor's note: Cuatro is a guitar-like traditional Venezuelan instrument with four strings].  The Chavistas tended to be more militaristic, all wearing their red berets and chanting slogans that made little sense here in the US (one Chavista screamed at the Opositores that they should live in Miami- which made no sense whatsoever since these Venezuelans obviously lived in San Francisco California).  To MATADOR it seemed to be hypocritical for these Chavistas to live in the empire they so much claimed to hate.  He also observed that very few of the Chavistas seemed to actually be Venezuelans- most being communists from other countries.  MATADOR verified this when a couple of them stopped at the Stabucks and he heard their non-Venezuelan accented spanish.  He saw part of the crowd go into the building to witness the vote count (as perscribed by the Venezuelan constitution.  Approximately an hour or so later they left the building,  meaning that the count was complete.  
    MATADOR decided that maybe he would check out the TOP OF THE MARK bar at the Mark Hopkins hotel.  He hailed a cab and boarded it.  The cab's radio was set to KCBS all news radio.
    "Where to?"  asked the cabbie.  The radio announced the victory of Hugo Chavez as of two hours ago.  This was suspicious in itself.  MATADOR suddenly did not feel well.  It would be Christmas soon, maybe he could discuss this with Ignacio at their usual place in the General's study.
    "San Francisco Airport."  
   

[dragon]

December 10, 2006
Palo Negro Air Base

The first four aircraft purchased from the Russians had been assembled and painted.  They were two Su-30MK2s and two Su-47MKVs.  MATADOR hitched a ride with one of the ground personnel to the Su-47MKVs.
    "Colonel, you should see these Russians."  Said the driver in astonishment.  "They have been at it since before dawn, getting these planes ready to be formally presented."
    "What is so strange about that, Sargeant?  You do that everyday."  Replied MATADOR.  He could barely make out the Su-47MKV's outlines from this distance.
    "Yes Sir, I do that every day, just not after drinking Vodka all night long the previous night.  Have you ever seen anything like it before, Sir?"
    "Yes, and I barely survived the experience, or so the Russians say."  MATADOR would be flying as a backseater for this flight on plane number one.  Plane number two would eventually be assigned to him.  "So, what do they look like?  I mean what do the Su-47MKVs look like in Venezuelan Camo?"
    "They have been given the name CAIMAN.  To say they look sexy would be like saying that Irene Saez was a cute girl in 1981- quite the understatement."  The Sargeant nodded at the new squadron patch on MATADOR's flight suit.  "The Aguilas Doradas.  Why did they name the squadron that?"
    "In Russian Berkut means Golden Eagle or Aguila Dorada in our language"
    The Sargeant smiled as he saw the expression on MATADOR's face.  MATADOR had not seen anything so beautiful in a while.  "The Caimans are a lot larger than your old Cazones.  This is your ride, Sir."
    MATADOR nodded at the Sargeant and stepped out of the Tiuna.  Things looked slightly strange to MATADOR.  The Venezuelan Government had added another star and changed the coat of arms of the nation.  It was no longer the FAV, but now the AMV (Aviacion Militar Venezolana).  The new alphabet soup grated on MATADOR's nerves- to him it sounded like an airline.  MATADOR climbed into the rear cockpit of the 2-seat Su-47MKV.  He glanced into the front cockpit as the pilot checked all the systems.  MATADOR spied something that was not standard issue.  "Sergei.  It has been a long time."
    The Russian laughed.  "MATADOR, my friend you are right.  Last time I saw you, you were barely surviving a good Russian Hangover."
    "I can honestly say it wasn't until last week when I felt I was able to shake it."  MATADOR and Sergei laughed.  "Sergei, is that what I think it is?"
    "Da.  It is an I-Pod with a docking station I found online."  Sergei locked the canopy.  "Is much better than boombox.  Few moving parts."
    "What is so important about moving parts, Sergei?"
    "MATADOR, I can listen to my I-Pod  no matter what I am doing.  You've got to experience AC/DC's "Back in Black" or Kenny Logins' "Danger Zone", or even the Turkish Sabre Dance while doing a Kulbits in this beast."
    "I will take your word for it, Sergei"

[Archibald]

Fine and interesting story    

[GTX]

Dragon,

You really need to do a hanger or airbase diorama to place all of these on.

Regards,

Greg

[dragon]

Dragon,

You really need to do a hanger or airbase diorama to place all of these on.

Regards,

Greg

GTX,
    I would love to, however I live in a small apartment.  Would you believe that all the planes I have shown are in 1/72 scale?   B)  

[dragon]

December 24, 2006

"It has been quite the year hasn't it?" said Ignacio.  As usual he and MATADOR sat in the General's study.
MATADOR nodded in agreement.  "The Air Force finally has some new forward swept aircraft"
"I wasn't talking about that.  I meant that our flag now has one extra star that no two authorities on the matter can agree as to what it represents, the National Coat of Arms has been modified without any thought about heraldry, a new enabling law that bypasses the National Assembly and gives the Executive branch of the government carte blanche in making laws, oh yeah and your Venezuelan Air Force is now called Venezuelan Military Aviation."
"Venezuelan Military Aviation still sounds like an airline to me" said MATADOR.  "There are also rumors that it will change soon to Bolivarian Military Aviation."
"And you have never bothered to wonder what the point would be to change the name that way?"
"I suppose it has something or another to do with the President's political agenda.  You know, Country, Socialism or Death.  I have heard it said that we military types will have to say that before saluting in the near future."
"Yes, I suppose saying Hail Chavez before saluting would have drawn too many obvious historical parallels.  You do know that his slogan is also illegal as far as the Constitution is concerned?"
"I know, remember I am the institutionalist?"  MATADOR took a sip of his whisky on the rocks.  "So, Mom tells me you are moving out soon?"
"I got my Architecture degree early and I have been getting a pay check for the past six months, between Karina and I, we can swing the rent.  We plan on getting married in early 2008."
"Mom is okay with this?"
"She has accepted it as the way modern things are done.  Besides we aren't too far away.  From here in Caurimare to El Cafetal is not much of a drive."
"Mom is also excited about becoming a Grandmother in the near future."
"Not that she hasn't given up on you yet.  Hopefully before that happens, Karina and I have saved enough to purchase an apartment in Los Naranjos, preferably on the Principal Avenue or Pauji Avenue- just about any apartment there has a great view of Caracas even in the lower floors."
"You are still impressed by the view you saw from that apartment building we went to for the wedding of one of Mom's friend's daughter, huh?  If I remember correctly it was one of three look alike buildings...They were named Vista Linda, Vista Bella, and Vista Hermosa.  The wedding was in Vista Linda."
"I want an apartment there in the future.  There is hope for this nation.  Especially once the Chavistas are out.  Hopefully when that happens Venezuela is not too far gone to effect a full recovery."  

[dragon]

June 2007
Palo Negro Air Base

MATADOR and his pilots had been called by the Base Commander to report immedietly to the Squadron 471 Aguilas Doradas ready room.  MATADOR was fuming.  One by one as the planes got delivered via a huge Antonov plane (which he had forgotten the designation), and the planes were assembled and made operational, pilots were assigned to the planes.  MATADOR would put them through simulator training followed by training in the two-seater and then maneuvers in the single seaters.  The pilots first trained would eventually become section leaders as soon as the squadron grew and more planes became available.  So far as Executive Officer and de facto Squadron Commander (at least until one was named), he had trained CHIGUIRE and CALAMAR from his old squadron and LANCERO (a promising ex-F-16 pilot).  They were some of the best in the Venezuelan Fighter pilot Community.  There were now eight functional Su-47MKVs with only four qualified pilots.  More would be readied before August which is why he needed his pilots fully trained before then.  His pilots would train their own sections.  First they needed to fly like a squadron in the new beast, then they would work up to fight like a squadron.  His personal CAIMAN, AMV-0350, was fueled and pre-flighted and sitting on the tarmac.
    He entered the room, sat down, and put his helmet on his lap.  The other pilots followed suit.  The base commander soon entered the room.  The pilots stood to attention and then sat down when the base commander motioned them to sit down.
"Gentlemen, I have the honor to introduce two new members to your squadron."  The pilots looked at MATADOR.  He knew as much as they did and knew nothing about these two- must be orders from above.  "First is Captain Camilo Ramos codename HAMPON."
    The pilots scratched their heads- they had never heard of this guy.  The reason became apparent when Captain Ramos entered the room and saluted the Base Commander- he was in full Bolivian Air Force dress uniform.  The murmuring among the seated pilots stopped.  This got their full attention.
    "Next is your Squadron commander" said the Base Commander.  The seated pilots came to attention, expecting perhaps a senior pilot from one of the other squadrons to be named as their leader.  Instead a man not too much older than MATADOR entered the room in full Cuban Revolutionary Air Force dress uniform.  "His name is General Ernesto Raul Garcia.  His codename is CIENFUEGOS."
    Okay, that explains the newer proposed name, thought MATADOR.  It couldn't be called Venezuelan since not all the pilots were Venezuelan.  Obviously a Bolivarian Air Force could be comprised of pilots from nations that described themselves as "Bolivarian".  Was that the ultimate plan?  He was angry about taking orders from a Cuban but kept from showing it.  CHIGUIRE, a Chavista, did not seem too pleased either.

[dragon]

Decmber 24, 2007
Palo Negro Air Base
Morning


It was early morning still when MATADOR climbed down from the cockpit of AMV-0350.  As usual he caressed the fuselage of his CAIMAN as he climbed down, it reminded people of a rider caressing a favorite horse.  His crew chief met him at the bottom of the ladder.
    "So how was the CAIMAN today, Sir?"  The chief had his note pad ready.  MATADOR smiled and looked at his CAIMAN with pride.
    "Perfect as usual, Chief."  MATADOR saw the other pilots walk to the squadron ready room for a debrief.  "We have had these beasts for nearly a year, what do you think about them?"
    "The CAIMANES are so much bigger than those babas [Editor's note: Baba is a species of alligator native to Venezuela.  Very rarely do they grow larger than 1 meter long] you used to fly."  MATADOR laughed.  The chief was relieved that MATADOR was in a good mood.  The ground crew had re-nicknamed the CAZONES baba as a joke on the much larger CAIMAN.  It was an apt analogy.  "Will you be requiring anything else, Sir?"
    "No, Chief."  MATADOR smiled.  He had not felt this good in a long time.  "Just do your standard post flight activities, and if you can, knock off early.  Spend Christmas with your family.  That's an order."
    "Yes, Sir!"  The chief saluted in the old fashioned way- no slogans.  "In that case, Merry Christmas, Sir.  If I may, what are your plans?"
    "Thank you, Chief.  As soon as the de-brief is over, I am changing out of this flight gear and driving to Caracas.  For your services I have placed a bottle of the finest Cacique rum I could find- I wish there were more, but you know how things are these days."
    "Thank you, Sir!  This aguinaldo shall not go to waste.  By your leave, Sir!"  MATADOR nodded.  The Chief and his crew started to work on AMV-0350.
    "Comrade MATADOR, are you bribing your ground crew?"  MATADOR's good mood crashed when hearing CIENFUGOS' Cuban accent.  "This does not do the process any good you know."
    "No, Comrade General.  I was merely rewarding my Crew Chief for the excellent work that he and his group have performed on my aircraft."  The eternal comrade this and comrade that got on MATADOR's nerves.  Sure, military protocol was one thing, but adding all this other stuff on top of that did not make the conversation any more accurate.  "Good work deserves a reward so that it may continue and perhaps improve."
    "Are you not afraid that the crew Chief will keep the rum to himself?"
    "What the Crew Chief does with the Rum is his business and none of my concern.  The Crew Chief has been in the service a long time.  He will share the Rum with his group and perhaps tell them that I gave it to them in appreciation for their work."
    "What makes you so sure of this?"
    "Comrade General, Venezuelans tend to very rarely drink alone.  I have no idea how things are done in your native land, Sir."
    "MATADOR, that sounded very much like insubordination."
    "No, Sir.  Merely a statement of fact.  I have no idea what your customs are."
    "True enough, I suppose."  CIENFUEGOS relaxed a little.  "What are your plans MATADOR?"
    "Comrade General, I plan to do what I have done for most of my adult life- I plan to spend this time with my family."
    "Very well, Carry on."

[dragon]

December 24, 2007
Early Evening

MATADOR was angry.  He had to park his car very far down the street from his parents' house in Caurimare.  Luckily he had dropped off his gifts earlier in the day.  He then went back out to see if he could purchase a few more edibles, which he did- at a hugely inflated price.  Staples such as beef, chicken, eggs, milk, sardines, and toilet paper had been going scarce since January.  His mother's Christmas eve table was much emptier than in years before, this was also echoed across many Venezuelan homes.  At least she had been able to make hallacas and pan de jamon- other homes were not so lucky.  He had been able to buy some bread, grapes and Spanish sausages- he had been pretty lucky.  The Christmas party seemed to be an idea coming to an end due to lack of just about everything in most households.  
    "Except for the freaking Boliburgues [Editor's note: Boliburgues translates to Bolibourgeosie, a term stemming from Bolivarian Bourgeosie- one who has become rich through the Revolution.  Equivalent to Nomenklatura in the Soviet Union.] who lives up the street."  MATADOR noted that lots of the street lights were not fuctioning.  He also noticed that all the cars parked on the street for the Christmas party at the Boliburgues' home were all expensive BMWs, Mercedez-Benzes, and Hummers.  The party seemed to have lots of food and drink.  "I guess some are more equal than others."
    "Hey Mister, what about my gift?!" said a voice from the shadows.  It was street kid he had seen around, he looked like a drug user too.  MATADOR dropped his bag.  The kid waved a short knife at MATADOR.  "Get off your mule, man! [Editor's note: in Spanish it is Bajate de esa mula!, street slang for you are getting robbed.]"
    Seeing no immediate cooperation the kid lunged at MATADOR.  MATADOR redirected the lunge by blocking and spinning with his left fore arm while his right hand stripped the knife from the kid's right hand.  It was a classic Krav Maga knife defense.  MATADOR threw the knife into the bushes and simultaneously drew his Browning Hi-Power and shoved it into the kid's mouth.  He heard the kid's stomach growl and instantly felt sorry him.  
"Here is your gift.  I give you the gift of life.  Go away.  If I ever see you around here again your last meal will be a bullet."  The kid had been clumsy.  It probably had been his first robbery and hopefully his last.  Again the kid's stomach growled.  " I will not kill anyone on Christmas Eve, for your family to hear news about something like that on this night is too cruel.  Here, have this bread.  Now go away before I change my mind."
   The kid grabbed the offered bag and ran like the devil was after him.  MATADOR sighed and reholstered his handgun.  Then he picked up the grocery bag, minus the bread, and continued walking to his parent's home.