Russia ran two provocative plays over the Baltic Sea on Friday—one over Estonia’s skies, another over Poland’s waters—forcing NATO jets to scramble and pushing Estonia to invoke Article 4 emergency consultations. But sure, we’re told it’s all just routine flight training. Pull the other one.

First, three Russian MiG-31s slipped into Estonian airspace around 10 a.m. local time, approaching from over the Gulf of Finland. The MiG-31—Russia’s fourth-gen speed demon capable of carrying the nuclear-capable Kh-47M2 Kinzhal—loitered near Vaindloo Island, roughly 124 miles from Tallinn, for about 12 minutes. Finnish fighters intercepted first; Italian F-35s under NATO’s Baltic Air Policing, with Finnish and Swedish support, sealed the response. Moscow later claimed the jets flew a scheduled Karelia-to-Kaliningrad transit over “neutral waters” more than three kilometers from Vaindloo and never deviated. Of course they did.

Estonia called it what it was. Foreign Minister Margus Tsahkna blasted the incursion as “unprecedentedly brazen,” noting Russia has already violated Estonian airspace four times this year. Prime Minister Kristen Michal demanded “rapid political and economic pressure.” Estonia triggered Article 4, compelling urgent allied consultations. NATO’s spokesperson Allison Hart labeled the breach “reckless,” and EU foreign-policy chief Kaja Kallas called it an “extremely dangerous provocation.” Translation: the patience meter just hit red.

Hours later, Poland reported two unidentified Russian fighters “buzzed” the Petrobaltic oil and gas platform at low altitude inside Warsaw’s exclusive economic zone, breaching its protected safety perimeter and triggering alerts to Poland’s military and maritime authorities. Just days before, roughly 20 Russian drones crossed into Polish airspace from Belarus—allegedly “strays” from strikes on western Ukraine—prompting Poland to seek Article 4 talks as well. Totally random, we’re sure.

Let’s connect the obvious dots. The drones into Poland followed the same path an air attack would take. Many were decoys—perfect for mapping Polish radar coverage, probing ranges, and testing Air Force reaction times. Friday’s fighter foray served the same purpose, with the MiGs configured to avoid escalation while lighting up every radar in the Gulf of Finland and the eastern Baltic. Russia even used one of its most radar-visible platforms. Subtle as a marching band.

Strategically, this is also a political test: rattle Tallinn, message Helsinki, and pressure a Europe that’s being reminded—repeatedly—that it must shoulder more of its own defense. Some still insist Putin “wouldn’t invade Western Europe.” That’s naïve at best. Russia pioneered hybrid war in 2014, sliding from proxy “locals” to regulars in Ukraine. The Baltics—especially Latvia—remain vulnerable to a manufactured “defense” of Russian speakers, Donbas-style. When provocations meet only stern press releases, escalation is the rational next step for the Kremlin.

What’s next? Expect another round of sanctions to land on Moscow—because paperwork is terrifying, right? More importantly, NATO may have to consider that repeated incursions could be met with force. In 2015, Turkey shot down a Russian jet after a violation; allies are already recalling that precedent during Article 4 talks. Lithuania’s defense leadership isn’t exactly whispering about it.

Bottom line: these weren’t accidents; they were diagnostics. Russia is mapping, timing, and taunting. The good news? NATO scrambled fast, Estonia led with clarity, and Poland is wide awake. Meet the next incursion with overwhelming resolve, tighten the radar picture, and keep the fighters hot. Peace is kept by strength—and when free nations act like it, deterrence works.