“Yes, this is Oleshky Sands.” He confirms it with a slight nod.
Does she suspect something? Should I run? No, I shouldn’t.
He does his best to look as calm as possible, which isn’t too hard for him. Aleksi studies her in silence, unsure of what to do right now. He glances at her arm before looking back up again.
“Your arm,” he asks, “are you injured..?” He speaks almost cautiously. He’s also trying to word himself correctly. He’s still unsure if she’s figured out where he’s from, and he’s not sure how she’ll react, either.
We’ll cross that bridge later. Sooner or later, anyways.
It’s probably the most constant thought on his mind right now, the possibility of a conflict here, in the middle of the desert. He’s never been with close combat, preferring to engage from a distance. But who knows? Perhaps there won’t be a fight.
Her mind charters the distance from where she was last with the fleet– how they must have been pushed to the border when they were attacked, and then when they separated…
Juliet clenched her jaw, knowing that her arm would slow her down if it would come down to a fight. No knives, then. He seemed sympathetic, or…genuine at least, when he asked about her arm. Why? Is he stalling?
"It's not broken." She said, giving her wrist an experimental flex and risking a look down at it. Juliet sighed, trying to think of a way to find out where he was from without him figuring it out. He knew she was French, or spoke it at least, though maybe he saw the embroidered flag on the sleeve of her uniform, and he wasn't trying to fight her. He can't be neutral, his uniform… Juliet glanced at him, and then past his shoulder, over the stretching hills of rock and sand,
"You're alone, aren't you?" She cautiously asked, listening for any sounds of a radio or people, though all that she heard was the wind and the fire ripping through the wrecked plane.
Aleksi takes a look at the crash again, before turning back to the woman. “Yes,” was his only answer to her question.
Well, he wasn’t always alone. He is now, though. At least, up until a few minutes ago. It’s nice to see another person out here. It’s not nice when that person is possibly from the country that your country is fighting against.
Juliet bit her lip, her hand inching closer to her holster as her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. She shouldn't have to kill this man– he'd done nothing wrong. He'd even tried to help her. But now she had her location and a portable radio in her pack, and something had to be done.
"I'm sorry." She said bitterly, not breaking her stare as she raised her gun, steady. Safety off, like she'd been trained. "But I need to know where you're from. I know you're not neutral." He should have stayed away, now one or both of us is going to pay.
He watches her, only stepping back when he sees movement. But he freezes upon seeing the weapon, pointed directly at him.
No. I’m not going to die here, no no no..
There’s no cover here. And even if there was, would he be able to reach it in time? His left hand moves slightly, but he stays in the same spot. He’s got to take a small chance here and state his country. He’s prepared to move so if she does look like she’s going to shoot, maybe he can try and ensure it won’t be a fatal shot.
“Minun ei olisi pitänyt tulla tänne..” He whispers under his breath.
Eyes looking around, he finally stops on her before answering. His voice was calm, though he was not. “Finland.” He answers.
"Finland." She repeats back to herself, sighing at the instant realization. Unfortunate. Juliet clenches her jaw, arm outstretched with her finger on the trigger, the sunlight glinting off the polished black gun as she paces her thoughts.
This feels wrong, but it's what she has to do. She shouldn't feel bad about this, she's killed before on battlefields and in the sky. She's seen terror in the eyes of men as they drop from the sky, the lights of missiles like stars dotting the airspace as she moved through the night. So why is this so much harder?
"Do you have anything to say?" Juliet sighed, guilt seeping through her mask of calmness, wanting to give him a fair end, some last words, at least.
Aleksi wants to scream, but nothing comes out. That’s it. He’s going to die here. He just wants to..
“I just want to see my family one last time, but.. Hyvästi äiti, isä.. sisarukset.”
As far as anyone cared, Aleksi was MIA. Who would know? There were so many thoughts running through his mind, as he closed his eyes, readying himself. Maybe after a while, they’d realize, and his parents would receive the news that, oh, your son died in the middle of a desert after being left behind. Sorry!
There’s nothing Aleksi can do now.
She took a heavy breath, her grip tightening on the polymer frame, he has a family worth going back to. But it didn't matter; he couldn't stay alive. He couldn't. This is exactly the type of weakness that had held her back as a young recruit.
"Turn around," Juliet told him, her stare cold and unwavering but her feelings far more conflicted, "On your knees."
It would be easier this way– She told herself, so she wouldn't have to see the face of a man guilty of nothing in this moment, condemning him to his end simply because his country was against hers.
Aleksi’s fear for his life seems genuine. It is, somewhat; he wasn’t lying when he said he wished to see his family at least one more time. Slowly, he turned around, seeming to follow the orders he was given.
He kneels down, eyes closed, face tilted downwards. His left hand moved slightly, but he didn’t seem to grab anything just yet.
She swallowed, letting her face relax into a troubled frown. Her deep breaths were masked by the scurrying wind, dry and warm against her skin as it whispered for her to have mercy, This is wrong. But it's what had to be done– Just a little press on the curved tab of the trigger and there would be no threat. But was there even a threat to begin with?
Juliet clenched her jaw, her back molars scraping against each other in a bittersweet defeat. Her father's voice rang through her ears like the fallen church bell from it's steeple; Disappointed, but not surprised. One day, you'll realize that harbouring even the smallest weakness can lead to your demise.
A silent moment passed. And then another.
"Out here–" She said, cautiously lowering the firearm, her arm twitching in disappointment.
"All we have is our honour. I can at least grant you that."
Aleksi’s left hand stopped, falling back to his side. He lifted his head slightly, though he did not get up. “What? Have you decided on something else?” The unsaid words were, You’re not going to shoot me?
Juliet took a breath, the devil on her shoulder itching for her to reconsider, whispering insecurity-laced paranoia into her ear. "The decision shouldn't be mine to make." She told him, trying to ignore the guilt that surfaced at the sound of his relief. "I'd be better off saving this bullet for myself."
He gets up, taking her words in. Finally, after a few moments, he turns around with a sigh.
“You know,” he starts. “Snipers aren’t really seen as the most honourable people out there.” Aleksi stated, identifying himself as to be a sniper. “We’re pretty hated, actually. But I can at the very least agree with you that we have our honour out here.”
That, and the fact that it might be easier to get out of this desert as a team. Though honestly, as a sniper it’s weird that I’m standing here with the enemy..
He looks up at the sky, a light gust of wind blowing past. Where to now, he pondered on the thought, also returning his gaze back to her.
Juliet returned the gun to its holster as she took in his words, her hearing quietly recovering from a fuzzy and muted state.
"Honour–" She said with a slow nod of agreement, "It's what makes us human. These days, though, it's confused with something else." Juliet reached for the tightened band that held her hair up, pulling it off with a sigh of relief, quickly freeing the dark waves into the dry desert air. "Blind loyalty, maybe. But then again, is war ever really about honour?"
Power. Hate. Pride. Money. Glory. There was corruption, death, and destruction throughout the world because of this, and the filth of politics had become a stain on what was once an honourable resolve.
“War..” Aleksi considered it. “It’s subjective. I’ve never had that many thoughts on it myself. I suppose it really only decides who will be left after the whole conflict, and survival can be achieved by any means necessary. Some people forget being human, though, without honour. Honour is good; in a balance.” He stated.
Juliet nodded in agreement, glancing at the sun's position in the sky and remembering the fact that he was alone. How long had he been roaming this barren land?
"Speaking of any means necessary…" She sighed, blinking at the wavering heat that danced off the sand,
"Do you have…" Juliet shook her head, trying to remember the right word, "A camp? Or should we start looking for a shallow spot?"
Aleksi brushes a hand by his face. He takes a moment before answering. “I do have a camp I set up.” He glances behind him. “It’s not far from here,” he adds, “but we should probably get going there soon. We’re not the only people in this desert.”
She nods, slowly taking in what he said. Not the only people? She picked up the dull red bag of supplies she hauled from the crash with her good hand, readying herself to start walking. "Do you know which side they're on? Or if they're even on a side, I should say." Juliet sighed, recalling the 'pirates' she and her fleet came across on the shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea.
