And unless things have changed, they'll leave the wreckage right where it crashed. Russian airlines are scary with a capital S.
It's been a while but I remember them not even bothering to pull planes up to the building and you'd have to walk down the tarmack about a half mile and they'd lower the back end (they used ancient WWII cargo planes as passenger planes) for passengers to board. Then you'd stumble down the red carpet runner (apparently they didn't understand the concept of tacking it down) to find a seat, any seat that had a back or wasn't broken too badly. And hopefully another passenger would sit behind you and prop your seat back in it's upright position with his knees. Then it was a game of how to tie the seatbelt together in a somewhat reasonably safety concious way. Looking around you'd notice others pulling out their newspapers, not to read but to fold into makeshift barf bags and you regret you'd left yours back at the hotel.
Five chapters later in your latest book, you glance up to notice off in the distance a small dot on the horizon. As it gets closer you see it's someone's grandmother... um, no, it's the little old lady who's come to fill the fuel tank. She climbs off her truck (oh my gosh, visions of granny driving and me deciding at 14 I'd take over the wheel for my and everyone's safety) and somehow manages to get up on the wing. After a while she slides down and drives back off into sunset leaving you wondering if she put in enough or was it a couple gallons short. A while later the flight attendant comes by passing out a single lemon drop and a shot glass of mineral water.
After we've sat there for what seems like an eternity, the engines start and the entire plane starts to shake violently as your seat back smacks the person's knees behind you and you grab onto the arms to hold yourself up. Then the big bird, very albatros-like bumbles down the runway knocking over bushes that are growing in the pot holes and passing the burned out rusty mangled carcasses of previous planes that didn't quite make it. As the wings flap more quickly you're finally in the air.
"In the air" is mostly a figure of speech since you can almost read the license plates of cars below. BTW, they've never heard of the shortest distance between point A & B is a straight line so the plane follows the highway to your destination. Oh, and let's not forget pilots will follow road safety rules and stop at red lights. I kid you not, the plane will suddenly stop, no slow banking, and make a right hand turn and continue to follow the roadway. Just so you know they're environmentally friendly, or rather the pilot isn't any more sure than you are that granny filled the tank properly, he'll cut the engines. Yep, cut the engines. Total and complete silence. The wings quit flapping, and plane stops shaking, and the only sound is the other passengers positioning their folded newspapers. Then after gliding down, down, down then engines rumble back to life and you ascend once again.