Kassian did not usually drink much these days - like smoking, it was a social activity, and he often abstained from polite company. Still, there had been a time when he regularly fraternized with comrades, and the atmosphere - laughs, teasing - reminded him of those years.

He kept to the edge of the group by instinct, though, quiet, but let conversations flow around him while taking in every word. He watched the way they interacted and put names to faces he hadn't bothered to mark earlier.

Kassian tried not to pay overt attention to Isaev, though still found his eye drawn from time to time.

It would not do to be obvious in front of Charushkin, he thought, lowering his gaze. When he looked up again, he thought Charuskin tossed him a glare, but it was gone by the time he could focus.

He didn't care.

And fortunately, the new recruit held the center of attention. Predictably, he looked like the others, though Kassian read him as a little elusive. He could understand that, though - the shock of the kidnapping probably didn't help - but he thought Borishnakov would do just fine.

Kassian leaned back against the wood and let the rising heat ease him, relaxed enough to await his turn at the bottle.