The boys were always on the spot, he had to give that to them. They were already pulling on their boots when he and Irinarhov and the fresh-cut Ocelot mounted the steps and swung open the doors to the officers' locker.

Andrei stepped inside the room, moving aside for Irinarhov, giving him an absent and instinctive guiding touch on the arm as he passed.

He grinned at the assembly of Ocelots, his comrades, drunk as lords, disheveled but dressed.

"Hey chuvaki," he announced. "Give a little respect to your half-brother Vladislaus. His testes must be made of boot leather."

Cheers and applause greeted Borishnakov's entrance.

Andrei tried to stifle his laughter, but failed miserably, collapsing against Irinarhov, dropping his brow on the Captain's shoulder.

Irinarhov stiffened, but he ignored it, shaking his head and righting himself with a snort.

"Sasha, Makno...are we ready for the Victory Lap?" he asked, tightly restraining his smile, avoiding looking at their new recruit, naked except for his red beret and sleek knee-high boots, with the fetching scarf and chest strapped holster.

They would have made sure to have his uniform ready and hanging in his new locker, for after he ran the East Wing Gauntlet.

"So, now you'll get to take a little jogging tour of the East Wing, through the main lobby and outside, then back through. Twice." Andrei held up two fingers, and a smile. "Once for the jacket, once for the jodhpurs- the undershorts and shirt we'll throw in for nothing, because we're that generous, bratan."

...In front of Raikov and his unit, and whoever else might feel the need to spectate.

He was sad Ilya was missing this; Borishnakov was really a game candidate and a good show.