GRU Barracks, Part 3 -> The East Wing
Sep. 18th, 2006 11:28 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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groznyj_gradMatvei had helped Sergei along with his bad leg, determined they should get their fair chance to inflict as much embarrassment on Borishnakov as when they had each been forced to do the circuit.
And now, they had a damned good front-row seat of the hilarity.
Laughing, he slapped Sergei appreciatively on the shoulder at the size of the audience amassed: Major Raikov seemed casually amused at the Ocelots staggering in, but he was pacing across the floor like a lion waiting to be released into the gladiatorial arena, and his unit had filled up the entirety of the second-floor bridge.
That was to be expected, but they had taken the base of the stairs, which meant they could observe firsthand whether or not Raikov took a shine to their new recruit.
"I bet," Matvei said to Sergei amidst all the cheer, "that our Vladya will manage to dodge Raikov's signature move."
He laughed, flopping onto his shoulder. "God, I'm glad we only had to do this once."
Matvei could hardly forget it.
After being thoroughly scared senseless, plied with drink, and making several trips in and out the banya for his uniform, when he'd been thrown to Major Raikov he'd been paralysed... which had been very bad for him, but it did help to kick in the instinct to run.
And Raikov, mercifully, had shown very little interest in him. That had been lucky. He'd not been at his best, and by the time he'd finished the run, he was swaying with tiredness; at which point a certain good-natured comrade had kindly relieved him from the celebrations as soon as was acceptable, and taken him to his new quarters...
He shook his head, and it occurred to him. "Where's our Andrei?" He asked his friend, looking around, with a little frown.
And now, they had a damned good front-row seat of the hilarity.
Laughing, he slapped Sergei appreciatively on the shoulder at the size of the audience amassed: Major Raikov seemed casually amused at the Ocelots staggering in, but he was pacing across the floor like a lion waiting to be released into the gladiatorial arena, and his unit had filled up the entirety of the second-floor bridge.
That was to be expected, but they had taken the base of the stairs, which meant they could observe firsthand whether or not Raikov took a shine to their new recruit.
"I bet," Matvei said to Sergei amidst all the cheer, "that our Vladya will manage to dodge Raikov's signature move."
He laughed, flopping onto his shoulder. "God, I'm glad we only had to do this once."
Matvei could hardly forget it.
After being thoroughly scared senseless, plied with drink, and making several trips in and out the banya for his uniform, when he'd been thrown to Major Raikov he'd been paralysed... which had been very bad for him, but it did help to kick in the instinct to run.
And Raikov, mercifully, had shown very little interest in him. That had been lucky. He'd not been at his best, and by the time he'd finished the run, he was swaying with tiredness; at which point a certain good-natured comrade had kindly relieved him from the celebrations as soon as was acceptable, and taken him to his new quarters...
He shook his head, and it occurred to him. "Where's our Andrei?" He asked his friend, looking around, with a little frown.
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Date: 2006-10-10 05:39 pm (UTC)His tone was casual but his look was anything but.
He met Isaev's gaze for only a moment, though, before he stepped back and faded into the crowd, just another Ocelot who'd had too much to drink making his way back to his barracks.
Strange. The night wasn't even over yet - his stomach fluttered at the thought - but after the day he'd had, he was already feeling like it was true.
Just another Ocelot.
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Date: 2006-10-10 10:39 pm (UTC)Despite that, he turned dutifully to face Isaev when he requested that they see that the new blood made it the next morning. Nodding, a tad drowsy, he turned to Matvei while covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned.
"Let's get to bed," he muttered, grabbing for his bunkmate's wrist as he headed for the doors that would take them out of the East Wing.