[identity profile] capt-kasya.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] groznyj_grad
They were still for a moment, in the wake of Major Liadov's query.

Then everyone looked at Imanov.

Isaev had told Kassian that Imanov had gone to a university and studied psychology. That made him the obvious choice in Kassian's book. Kassian hadn't even completed his secondary education before he'd have to leave in order to work at the factory.

Kassian wondered if there was anything in Imanov's psychology books that talked about this, murders committed out of some deep-seated need, fueled by this cycle of escalation that Liadov had talked about.

Probably. It sounded like it happened often enough that experts had coined terms for it, after all, some deeper explanation than merely knowing the difference between having to kill, and wanting to kill.

Date: 2007-06-26 04:19 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
Isaev shot him a wry twist of his lips and jumped into the water.

It hit him at mid-thigh.

He bent to retrieve the ring and grinning, caught Irinarhov by the hand, shoving it onto his finger.

"Of course I can get it," he admonished, rolling his eyes. "What kind of a question is that?"

A little oversized, he thought, amused, if it fit over the sniper's hand, glove and all.

Although Irinarhov had surprisingly slender hands, like a pianist. Those delicate wrought instruments of death.

Date: 2007-06-26 09:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
"Whatever you say, Captain Irinarhov," Andrei said, with a lilt of his brows. "I'm at your disposal, seeing as you technically outrank me."

He was being playful, but mindful of restraint, the solemnity of circumstance.

Something about the sniper's unstudied diktat pleased him, showed the authority granted not by rank but by life.

We're not doing anything else in here.

Pronouncements that Andrei would accede to, despite their "magnum frater" overtones.

He liked that part of Kassian. The part that betrayed the sagacity of his years, and the authority it conferred.

As he stepped out of the pool, he turned his head to breathe against Irianrhov's ear.

"But we're doing everything later."

Date: 2007-06-26 04:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
Andrei stopped, the ground rustling beneath his boot.

It was a faint sound, but in the stillness it carried all the portent of an avalanche.

"He...he seemed fine," he said, bewildered.

Bewildered as to why Imanov wouldn't have told him, as to why-

"He's all right, then. No damage."

It was fairly mild as combat went, a mere scuffle- but the idea that Imanov might have touched the killer, possibly earning himself a place as target next-

Andrei's voice lowered.

"Was he wearing his balaclava?"

Then Isaev remembered the last words Kassian had said, the ones that must have cost him something to utter.

"...you..." he broke off, shaking his head.

Date: 2007-06-26 05:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
Andrei shook his head.

"And he didn't call for backup. Believe me, I know how he is."

A sigh that felt like it came from his viscera, and his hand shook slightly as he ran it back through his hair.

"I know him very well. Every inch."

After a moment he shrugged.

"He made the call. Your job is to protect the MENTs, and then your brother. It's not your fault."

He raised his eyes and pushed a half-smile.

"I don't know why you're confessing with that look on your face. That look of infinite sorrow."

Andrei snorted.

"Even if you could cover the world with that Mosin-Nagant, Kasya, you can't vanquish a man's worst enemy without shooting him in the process."

Date: 2007-06-26 08:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] andrei-isaev.livejournal.com
Andrei nodded.

"Davai."

They started back the way they'd come, studying the walls and floor of the cave in case they'd missed anything vital. Retracing.

This time they veered down the other trunk of the corridor, which proved to be somewhat longer and slightly sloping downward.

It came to a definitive end, a dead one. A sheer facing, facing them.

Andrei trained his secondary flashlight along the wall, but Kassian had shined his directly ahead.

"Lend me your beam, comrade," he heard the sniper whisper, in his rough, low tone.

Isaev automatically complied, as if that voice was hardwired to him.

"It's got to be Molokov," Irinarhov said grimly.

Andrei's lip curled briefly, unwittingly.

"Poor bastard."

In the track of their crossed lights stood a macabre little pyramid, a wigwam of limbs cantilevered into a pyre.

Hands seemed to be expressively reaching, feet supporting.

Had it been cast in plaster instead of flesh, it might have made a fantastic concept for the support of a modernist coffee table.

As it was, however, what they beheld was only a sick offering to a godless land.

He clicked on his CODEC.

"Major," he said. "Tell the MENTs we got something. Down in the cavern system. Left branching fork to its ultimate conclusion. Area's secured. We'll stand ground and wait."

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