"Ah," Khoklov said, "that would be the time a Chinese heat-seeker hit my aft engine in the Wakhan Corridor ... I almost nursed my bird back to Bagram Air Base, but I had to hit the silk in bandit territory. After three days in the wilderness, a Spetsnaz ranger team picked me up with their helicopter gunship ..." Khoklov suavely lit a Marlboro and gazed dramatically out the window. "I wouldn’t want you to think it’s something special, Tamara. For us, it’s a job, that’s all; our socialist duty. Those Spetsnaz rangers, the elite black berets ... now, those sons of bitches are what I call brave men! I owe them my life, you know."