Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20160111005103/@comment-25828117-20160113220741

John looked up at the morning sky. Crystal clear. Perfect weather for a launch, obviously not a coincidence. Metereologic data played a vital part in all of this.

He then glanced back at the corner store one more time before getting into his car and firing up the engine. As he did, the radio sprang on. He couldn't exactly remember if he had turned it on earlier but when he reached out to turn it off a very familiar song started to play.

John now just sat there, looking at the radio dial for few second as he remembered the general thrust of the tune, it had been so long... And not that he really cared for music in particular it was a luxury he had learned to live without, but he remembered this one in particular because it reminded him of that one day...

Moscow

2017

The tall foreboding door opened once more and a staff officer walked out to keep it from closing by itself, his leather jackboots echoed over the cold marble floor.

"Ivan Jankovics!" The man yelled at the attendees. The hall served as a waiting room, but unlike the doctor's this one was about twice as high and the walls had been decorated with lush Neo-Classical murals showcasing the ordeals from Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky's famous ballets. This building had obviously been here way before the revolution of the people ever took place.

Ivan looked up, sort of surprised it was finally his turn. He gave just one last glance back at the other people waiting in the room, whom he had been forbidden to speak with when he had initially entered this building, and one last drag on his cigarette to calm his nerves, and then he walked up to the Staff Officer, a man about his age with a hat that looked way to big for him.

"Get inside."

Ivan did what he was told, after which the staff officer followed him inside and closed the tall door behind them. The offices were much warmer than the hall he had been standing in for two hours. The floor was also made of dark brown diagonal wooden parquet which gave a more cozy and warm feeling, but that could've just been his imagination.

Now he stood there, in this office with a soldier behind him. The desk before him was empty. Jankovics looked around without moving, scanning the room just with his eyes. It looked properly Soviet bigwig alright. A white bust of Stalin and Lenin in the left and right corner respectively. The large arched windows looked bullet proof. And a radio on the fireplace's shelf softly played the hit version Song of the Volga Boatmen by Bulgarian singer Boris Christoff.

The door to his side suddenly opened and a man covered in red army medals walked in, placed his hat on the desk and beckoned Ivan to approach.

"Ivan Jankovics, reporting for duty. Comrade General"

The older man, whom had despite his pudding gut a rather gaunt face, with especially gaunt eyes, looked up the young man.

After which he opened the file of the same name.

"Ah yes, the Hungarian." He mused while he put his glasses on.

"You are Hungarian, yes?"

Ivan nodded "Yes, Comrade General. That is correct."

"I see, also explains your slight accent. But your Russian is very good."

"Thank you, Comrade General."

"And your English?"

Ivan took a few seconds. What was he supposed to say? But he couldn't let this opportunity pass him by so just before the General could use his red ink pen he did a scarily accurate American accent with an appropriate colloquial. This caused the General to laugh for a second.

"Surely a lot better than the man that walked in here before you."

"For the record... You don't have to address me with Comrade General for the whole questionnaire."

Ivan was about to say Yes Comrade General but he managed to suppress the nervous reaction.

"Do you believe in god?"

"No."

"Are you loyal to the state and its people."

"Yes."

"Do you have any close relatives?"

"No."

The questions, it didn't seem to have an ending. Ivan started to doubt his position the longer it went on. But after what felt like an hour he was suddenly dismissed. It happened so abruptly he wasn't quite sure what to think? Did they want him? Did he pass? Apparently they would sent him a letter to come back for the ministry if he was, right now he had to catch a night train back to Budapest.

-

John quickly turned the radio off and turned the window down instead, Put on his sunglasses and made for the Nixon Space Center. He had a flight to catch.