Polish fighter jets intercepted a Russian Il-20 reconnaissance aircraft over the Baltic Sea on the morning of 31 October, marking the third such incident in a week, the Operational Command of the Polish Armed Forces reports.

A pair of Polish MiG-29s were scrambled around 09:00 on 31 October to intercept the Russian Il-20 flying over the Baltic Sea. The Russian aircraft was operating without a filed flight plan and with its transponder switched off, posing a potential threat to air traffic safety in the region, according to the Operational Command.

Polish pilots intercepted and identified the foreign aircraft, which was escorted in accordance with NATO procedures. No violation of Polish airspace occurred.

The incident follows two similar interceptions earlier in the week. On 29 October, two Polish fighters intercepted and escorted a Russian Il-20 out of the zone of responsibility. The next day, 30 October, Poland intercepted another Russian reconnaissance aircraft over the Baltic Sea.

The pattern of three interceptions within a week confirms increased Russian aviation activity in the region, the Operational Command notes.

Marauder's thumbs make micro-adjustments on the FPV controller, keeping the racing drone steady at 5 km above ground. On his screen: a speck against gray sky—the Russian reconnaissance drone. Its camera swivels, scanning for threats.

Too late. The pilot presses the button. Bang.

Both drones—Ukrainian interceptor and Russian spy—disappear in the detonation. The freeze frame on the screen shows the enemy's rearview camera catching its killer in the final millisecond. The team in the underground bunker cheers, but waits for confirmation. Minutes later, radar confirms: target down.

Around him in the underground bunker, two teammates have been managing their own screens: one tracking the target's coordinates across three monitors, another radioing compass directions to the sapper above, who's swiveling a directional antenna to keep their interceptor connected.

They've been doing this for months now—hunting Russian drones with drones, from positions the enemy can't see.

Teams like these have shattered Russia's air supremacy—saving countless Ukrainian military targets. Now they're Moscow's most wanted. Just one problem: you can't kill what you can't see underground.

It's a reversal that could reshape Ukraine's air defense calculus: instead of expensive missiles chasing cheap drones, cheap drones are now hunting expensive ones.

In this exclusive, I am granted the world’s first look inside the inner workings of an anti-aircraft team of the 113th Separate Kharkiv Territorial Defense anti-aircraft battery and the Volunteer unit “Phoenix” as they pioneered this underground drone warfare.

Explore further

Eyes in the sky: How Ukraine is battling Russia’s drone intelligence network

Russian eyes from above meet their match

Big Russian reconnaissance drones like the Orlan-10, Zala, and Supercam slip through Ukrainian defenses and patrol for hours deep in Ukrainian territory, guiding Iskander missiles and Lancet drones to devastate Ukrainian training grounds, logistical hubs, and civilian targets.

Until recently, Ukraine was powerless against these spy drones. Flying at altitudes of 4-5 km, above the range of MANPADs and anti-aircraft guns, demanding expensive anti-air missiles, the feared recon UAVs could loiter for hours, unhindered, spotting targets that Russian ballistic missiles would slam into minutes later.

Even if the Russian scouts got into range, Ukraine’s air defense teams were prohibited from attempting to shoot them down during the day, lest they themselves become a target.

Then came Ukraine's $600 interceptor drones—now hunting the $30,000-120,000 reconnaissance UAVs from underground bunkers the Russians can't target.

Best known for being the most promising solution to Russia’s Shahed drones swarms, they are now launched by air defense units from underground bunkers to down the recon drones that once traveled Ukrainian airspace with impunity.

Explore further

Drone dogfights: Ukraine’s novel strategy to counter Russian reconnaissance UAVs

Anti-aircraft positions like the 113th and Phoenix defend more than military assets. According to Ukrainian emergency service officials in the region, 90% of Russian airstrike targets are civilian—and these anti-aircraft (AA) teams are the only thing standing in the way.

Attack drones such as Shahed drones are pre-programmed with a route and target in mind. Prior to the drone launch, someone in Russia chooses a target they deem a priority.

Illya, a volunteer soldier of the Phoenix unit, callsign “Artist,” sees the pattern:

“Potentially, the target is something that they think is very important, but normally, they just hit civilians for some reason. Maybe that's the goal; in fact, I'm pretty sure it is."

A war of drones, they say

Russian tactics are evolving as fast as Ukraine’s defenses. “The enemy is not dumb; he's adjusting as well as we are to modern combat,” the Artist says. Russians now fly higher routes beyond gun ranges and deploy dummy drones—unarmed decoys that mimic real threats to distract AA teams, while armed drones threaten anyone who goes after them.

Furthermore, as soon as the Russian recon drone spots the AA team, an artillery strike may follow. "Currently, it is quite difficult to work from the ground."

“Who could have imagined that some bird [drone] would become one of the main offensive weapons five years ago?” asks Commander “Makhno,” a veteran of the 2014 Donetsk airport battle. When I interviewed him five months ago, he sat on a stationary ZU-23-3 autocannon, as part of an AA battery of the 113th Territorial Defense Brigade. That gun is now mobile.

This position? Home to the next evolution in anti-aircraft warfare—FPV interceptor drones.

First Sergeant Yuriy, callsign “Fly,” watched drone warfare evolve firsthand.

• In early 2022, using drones was unprecedented.
• By mid-2022, it was standard—Fly flew a commercial Mavic 3 for scouting missions.
• Since then, drones have spread across every sector of warfare: FPV strikes, logistics runs, even ground-based operations.
• Anti-aircraft interceptor drones only emerged in mid-2024 and became scalable in early 2025.

Where does it go next? Fly predicts that by 2026, we'll see full drone-on-drone air warfare.

But the system has growing pains. The 113th is still experimenting with ways to cut costs and improve operations. If an interceptor misses its target, the pilot must return it to base so someone can manually disarm the explosive charge.

If it hits? They need to buy a replacement drone. Each interception burns through equipment one way or another.

A Truck, a Docent, and an Artist walk into a bunker

An interceptor drone team runs on three roles: pilot, navigator, and sapper. The Phoenix soldiers training here today—Truck, Docent, and Artist—are cross-training across all three positions, giving me a complete view of how the system works.

Sapper

Truck is learning the sapper role. He assembles the interceptor step-by-step: wires zip-tied to a ten-inch carbon fiber drone, four propellers tightened onto motors, a large capacity battery velcroed into position.

Finally, the explosive charge mounts to the underside, its detachable detonator dangling loose. Truck and his trainer Snake carry the drone to a launch point away from the bunker and wait for the command to arm it.

When command gives the order, Truck attaches the battery, confirms connection to the bunker, and arms the charge by inserting the detonator.

But the sapper’s job does not end there. Truck also operates the directional antenna on top of the bunker—critical for maintaining the drone’s connection. The signal projects in a narrow beam, and the farther the drone flies, the more precise Truck’s aim must be.

He relies on constant radio updates from the navigator below, adjusting the antenna based on compass directions alone.

Navigator

First Sergeant Fly trains Docent on the navigator role.

Three screens sit in front of them: a live map tracking all aerial targets above a certain altitude, a Ukrainian radar feed, and a zoomed-in satellite map. All are required to accurately guide the pilot sitting right next to him.

The radar feed catches launches from Russian soil and tracks their general position as they enter Ukrainian airspace. The aerial target map displays airspeed, altitude, and signal emissions—helping identify the drone model.

The satellite map guides the intercept itself The FPV interceptor carries a swivel camera that can instantly point groundward.

Docent must match the landscape from the satellite image to what the drone’s camera sees, navigating purely by visual landmarks. A complicated task given that he must also relay the compass direction to the sapper above, so he could maintain a connection with the drone.

Pilot

The pilot’s job seems simpler—until the dogfight starts. When Ukrainian and Russian drones meet in the air, the pilot must pull off precise maneuvers with highly finicky drones. Marauder, the unit’s main pilot, moved from infantry to drone operations after combat injuries. The navigator guides him to the target area, but Marauder makes the final visual contact.

Finding the speck is just the start. Marauder learned FPV flying by striking virtual ground targets—and those same precision skills translate to hunting drones.

"It is vital to actually learn to work as you are hitting ground units because all these micrometrics in maneuvering, slowing down, and making a perfect angle to attack—that's what makes a successful interception."

Marauder trains Artist on the pilot role—the most demanding session I witness. The physical work is easier than handling explosives or juggling three screens, but mastering the precision flying takes far longer. FPV drones crash easily. The controls are unintuitive. And for a volunteer unit funding most of its own equipment, every crashed training drone is money lost.

So they start with video games. Artist boots up Liftoff, an FPV flight simulator from LuGus Studios. The program's realistic physics engine lets pilots practice the tiny adjustments—speed changes, approach angles, attack runs—without destroying real equipment. Ukrainian armed forces units have widely adopted it for drone training.

War games

What does an actual intercept look like? Ukrainian radar tracks the Russian drone from launch. The team gathers around their monitors as the sapper carries the interceptor to a launch point far away from the bunker.

He connects the battery, arms the explosive, and moves to the directional antenna. The navigator radios command for clearance. Approved. The pilot fires up the drone—FPV propellers whirring to life.

The interceptor could climb over 2,000 meters, but the pilot keeps it low. The navigator needs to match ground features on screen to the satellite map, guiding the drone toward the target zone. Approaching the intercept area, the pilot scans his screen repeatedly, hunting for a tiny speck against the open sky.

Visual contact. Now it becomes a dance between two pilots. Russian reconnaissance drones often don’t notice the small Ukrainian interceptor approaching—but not always. Marauder says Zala reconnaissance drones now carry rearview cameras to spot pursuers. During the chase, the navigator coordinates with the sapper topside, calling out quick antenna adjustments to keep the signal strong while the pilot maneuvers unimpeded by signal lag.

When the pilot closes in, he flicks a switch on the controller. Boom. Detonation. Artist jokes they’ll start marking their controllers the way pilots mark their fuselages—one kill at a time.

This is just the beginning

"That's the reality; welcome to it. Right now, potentially, anyone can be a lethal weapon with a drone, right? That's drone warfare, unfortunately,” Artist says.

The technology has opened new paths for wounded soldiers. Marauder, Fly, and Snake can no longer fight as infantry—but they can hunt Russian drones from below. Interceptor drones won’t replace gun batteries.

“A bullet is a bullet,” Fly says. But the interceptors save lives, stretch manpower, and force Russia into a calculation: spend more money sending drones, or accept surveillance gaps.

Cross-training between gun crews and drone operators creates another advantage. "It gives you perspective," Artist says. "You learn how the different systems operate."

The advantage is practical: understanding both gun operations and drone piloting means you can predict what the other side will do. Drone pilots who've worked gun crews know the evasion tactics. Gun crews who've flown drones know where pilots are vulnerable.

The two systems complement each other, Fly says. Gun teams can't operate during daylight when Russian reconnaissance drones patrol overhead. Interceptor drones struggle at night when spotting targets becomes nearly impossible. Together, they cover the gaps—protecting both military positions and the civilians Russia increasingly targets.

This is just the beginning for interceptor drones. The 113th and Phoenix innovators are already experimenting with improvements—better range, faster interception, lower costs. Now it's a race to scale the technology before Russia adapts—because every drone they down is a missile strike that never happens.

Explore further

Ukraine’s Navy doesn’t exist—except it kind of does, and it’s brilliant