Staring into the frostbitten abyss 5,000 or so feet below, as the charter aircraft's landing gear dropped down to begin a final descent into Winnipeg International Airport nearing Christmas many, many years ago, Sergei Makarov surveyed the polar-ice-cap conditions and shook his head with all the utter desolation a childhood spent in Chelyabinsk could forge in a person.

Seated beside him, a longtime Winnipegger couldn't help but notice the maddening melancholy on Makarov's face and immediately, instinctively, got defensive.

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