Kassian hesitated, uncertain as Charushkin approached him, remembering how angry the younger man had been earlier that day at the range. But Charushkin was smiling, and called him by name.

All of his earlier ire had apparently been forgotten? Kassian didn't understand.

Perhaps he'd just had too much to drink, Kassian thought, and wondered if Charushkin would be angry again tomorrow.

But Charushkin continued to smile. Kassian glanced at Isaev and found he was occupied, joking good-naturedly with his brothers.

There was nothing for it. Kassian turned back to Charushkin and gave a cautious nod. "All right," he said, "I'll get dressed." He moved back to his locker.

It wasn't the nudity that bothered him, it was the fact he stood out. If everyone was in the buff, he had no problem being unclothed, but if the others had dressed and he was not, again, he would stand out.

Though he already did - he was hardly as jovial as the others, even if he swayed on his feet just as much. He tugged on his pants and buttoned his jacket, watching as the other Ocelots began to bunch up near the door, eager to leave.

He looked up to catch Charushkin's eye once more. "Go ahead," he called, "I'll have to catch up."