Andrei grinned, tossing off his gloves, and offered the man a hand up, hauling him off his knees.
"Andrei Alexandrovich Isaev," he said. "And your other assailant is Matvei Antonovich Charushkin."
The man nodded cautiously, as Matvei cut his hands and legs free with his overly sharp knife.
"You've been promoted, chuvak. Major Ocelot has chosen you to join the unit. How do you feel about that?"
He paused, gestured at the ebullient circle of his fair brothers...and one dissenter, dark and stormy looking, that his eye made a conscious effort not to linger on.
"Introduce yourselves, you naked bastards," said Andrei, grinning. "So he can put a name with a face."
Not like their faces had been visible for very long.
"Or whatever else identified you," he added, with a snort.
He looked at Matvei.
"I'm getting out of this fucking wool funeral suit, in the mean time," he said,wasting no time.
He began to undo his holster at the shoulder and gunbelt, as he unceremoniously left the banya for the relative coolness of the anteroom, letting the door close behind him.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Done. Now the new recruit could earn his black and red, and everyone would be happy.
He hoped Sergei had all the alcohol ready, and that he'd been able to safeguard it from the premature attentions of his brothers.
He hadn't seen it, but he supposed the kid could have hidden it back under the benches, clever as he was.
Andrei didn't worry. Sergei was unfailingly reliable.
He was trying to clear his mind, as he shrugged out of his black field jacket, to make his mind a blank that harbored no thoughts but the initiation.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-09-03 08:54 pm (UTC)"Andrei Alexandrovich Isaev," he said. "And your other assailant is Matvei Antonovich Charushkin."
The man nodded cautiously, as Matvei cut his hands and legs free with his overly sharp knife.
"You've been promoted, chuvak. Major Ocelot has chosen you to join the unit. How do you feel about that?"
He paused, gestured at the ebullient circle of his fair brothers...and one dissenter, dark and stormy looking, that his eye made a conscious effort not to linger on.
"Introduce yourselves, you naked bastards," said Andrei, grinning. "So he can put a name with a face."
Not like their faces had been visible for very long.
"Or whatever else identified you," he added, with a snort.
He looked at Matvei.
"I'm getting out of this fucking wool funeral suit, in the mean time," he said,wasting no time.
He began to undo his holster at the shoulder and gunbelt, as he unceremoniously left the banya for the relative coolness of the anteroom, letting the door close behind him.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Done. Now the new recruit could earn his black and red, and everyone would be happy.
He hoped Sergei had all the alcohol ready, and that he'd been able to safeguard it from the premature attentions of his brothers.
He hadn't seen it, but he supposed the kid could have hidden it back under the benches, clever as he was.
Andrei didn't worry. Sergei was unfailingly reliable.
He was trying to clear his mind, as he shrugged out of his black field jacket, to make his mind a blank that harbored no thoughts but the initiation.
Fun, he thought. Nothing else matters now.