To die as a military pensioner in a soft bed in the twenty-first century—and then wake up buried under earth in an aircraft-bomb crater, in the body of a young aviation technician in the fiery forty-first year. Above your head, roaring with engines, planes with crosses on their wings race by, and machine guns crackle, bringing death. Your time has come. It’s time to put your skills to use. After all, you’ve been preparing for this your entire life. Preparing to defend the Motherland. Very soon, your enemies will find out who a Russian ace from the future really is. They won’t even need crosses on graves—crosses on the wings will do just fine.