Something changed, with Ocelot’s final statement. It was a grudging realization that Krauss had betrayed and lied to both of them, so much so that The Fury had to laugh, even in his fit of anger.
He could even overlook the fact that the Major called him a fucking psychopath. Sanity was irrelevant, anyway.
“Rage looks good on you, Major.”
The cosmonaut grabbed Ocelot by the front of his black tunic and pulled him forward roughly, close enough that the lunatic’s gray respirator was nearly pressed to the Major’s nose. Close enough that the smell of burned rocket fuel was inescapable. Uncomfortably close, even.
“We’ll kill him together.”
It was obvious he was grinning in lunacy at the idea, and the perceived camaraderie through mutual betrayal. A momentary truce on his part, however fleeting.
no subject
He could even overlook the fact that the Major called him a fucking psychopath. Sanity was irrelevant, anyway.
“Rage looks good on you, Major.”
The cosmonaut grabbed Ocelot by the front of his black tunic and pulled him forward roughly, close enough that the lunatic’s gray respirator was nearly pressed to the Major’s nose. Close enough that the smell of burned rocket fuel was inescapable. Uncomfortably close, even.
“We’ll kill him together.”
It was obvious he was grinning in lunacy at the idea, and the perceived camaraderie through mutual betrayal. A momentary truce on his part, however fleeting.