groznyj_grad | NIGHT SEARCH FOR CORPUS 2: OPEN TO ALL

Ocelot paced and champed at the bit in the hall of the East Wing, twirling his guns and scowling at nothing.

The hall should be filling up soon.

The ALL PERSONNEL had gone out over the loudspeakers, and every unit was expected to report. He had also personally contacted his counterpart Major, his first Lieutenant, and after hesitating, sent a CODEC to Gurlukovich.

"Imanov seems to be indisposed. If he shows up with the AP bulletin, I'll have him follow me in second point. If he doesn't, Sergei, I need you."

It would be good in two ways, thought Ocelot. First, he could observe Sergei's command ability without the stomachache of putting him out front in direct conflict, and two, Sergei could be relied on.

Always.

"If Imanov shows up, I'll have him lead a second party. Either way, Serhyoza," he added, "I'll need you by my side."

As he waited for Raikov and his men to appear, he counted the diamond in the tiles with a furrowed brow.

Inwardly, he scoffed at his own impatience.

What's the hurry? Dead things tend to stay dead. Not like he's going anywhere.

How had they missed it?

Had he been selecting his victims only from non-essential personnel?

Ocelot made a short, audible noise of frustration.

If the killer had gotten ahead of them this much, he could already be selecting his next victim.

Threaded | Flat

Air pressure in the room increased perceptibly, with ear-popping speed.

Colonel Volgin arrived moments later, like the thunder that superseded lightning.

Actually, Volgin had learned that thunder and lighting actually occurred simultaneously, but the speed of light was faster than the speed of sound, so one's perception of lightning came first.

He'd been pleased by the knowledge. Ivan had told him that, after reading it in one of his books.

But now, Volgin was not pleased. Electricity crackled around his gloved hands as he strode inside the hallway and saw that Ocelot was alone.

Volgin's uniform coat had been hastily buttoned, and his boots stamped on heedlessly. Volgin's short hair lay too close to his scalp to be rumpled by sleep, but he'd been dreaming of Ivan.

He'd gone to bed early, after being up all night and all day, intending to just take a short nap then seek out Ivan later. But he'd been rudely awakened by the klaxon.

At first, he'd been annoyed.

And then, he'd thought of Ivan.

Volgin closed the distance between himself and Ocelot rapidly, then reached out and grabbed the young major by his lapels, lifting him up without effort, holding him away from his body. "Where's Ivan!" Volgin roared through gritted teeth. "I told you to watch out for him, Ocelot! Where is he!"

“What now?” Phobos asked quietly, tugging at the sleeve of the Fury’s space suit.

“Now?” The cosmonaut smirked, “now, we participate in the most time honored tradition of the military: we hurry up and wait.”

“Don’t want to wait.” The flame soldier replied, shaking his head. “Want to go back to bed.” He leaned against the commander, laying his head against the Fury’s shoulder and shutting his eyes

The cosmonaut’s dark eyes narrowed and he winced as he evaluated the unwanted affection: Phobos, like a sleepy child snuggling up against its mother on the long train ride home from Leningrad. If it would have been anyone other than Phobos, he would have kicked them. Hard. But if it had been anyone other than Phobos, they wouldn’t have dared to touch him. The little freak had no concept of what was appropriate, he only did what felt right and good, and that was what made him so agreeable to the cosmonaut -- a creature driven by instinct, liberated of societal rules.

“I know, Phoebe.” The Fury said at last, patting the flame soldier’s red hair affectionately, or as affectionate as he was willing to be. “Now please be quiet.”

He received a slight nod of compliance against his shoulder, but didn’t notice.

His attention was on Major Ocelot though, scowling, pacing, cursing. He could only wonder what made Ocelot confess blowing up the greenhouse to the investigators, when it would have been just as easily to blame him for it. That sort of honesty was respectable to the Fury, and he made a mental note to ask Adamska about it later.

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