7. Sasha #2
He’s wearing his helmet and is turned away from me, so I can’t see his expression, but I can see the stiffness that mounts from his legs to his back.
If it were any other time, I’d probably be attuned to the changes in him, but after finding out the identity of his father, I’m not sure how to act around the captain anymore.
I can’t use him to get to his father since Maksim mentioned they have a muddied relationship. But at the same time, I can’t just forget that he’s a product of that man.
Maybe my initial apprehension about the captain was correct, after all.
He’s bad news and dangerous.
Rulan cuts off my hyperfocus on him when he advances forward. “Permission to go in, Captain?”
“Not yet.” He stares up, then down, as if searching for an invisible needle in the snow.
“Is something the matter?” Viktor whispers so low, I wouldn’t have been able to hear him if I were in the back.
“Something’s off.” Kirill tilts his head to the side. “No one is around.”
“It was snowing just now. They’re probably hiding,” Rulan says, to which Kirill shakes his head once.
“Storms and snow don’t scare these people. They’d have patrols to secure the premises and watch out for intruders. Unless…they knew we were coming.”
“That’s impossible,” Viktor interjects. “Only the base knows about this mission. Our intelligence has no leaks to warrant this suspicion.”
“Yeah, Captain. We trained so hard for this mission that we can do it with our eyes closed,” Rulan says, and the others nod in agreement.
Heavy silence falls over the team. No one talks as we wait for Captain’s decision.
He doesn’t look convinced. If anything, he’s surveying the premises harder than before.
But since he’s the leader of this operation, he has to make a decision.
He slides his gloved fingers up and down his rifle in a methodical, controlled rhythm. Everything he does oozes authoritativeness. I’ve been in the army long enough to meet men who idolize control, but they soon revert back to their old selves once no one is there.
Not Kirill.
It’s part of who he is. A personality trait that can’t be separated from his essence.
His movements come to a halt before he announces in a clear voice, “Only Team A will proceed. Team B will be backup.”
Viktor gives him a look, probably feeling left out of all the fun.
“It’d be faster if we go at the same time,” someone from Team B, none other than Maksim, says, not giving a damn about the glare his team captain gives him.
“Only Team A,” Captain repeats. “And, Rulan, I want you to follow your gut. If there’s anything amiss, don’t wait for my signal. Retreat to the pickup point, got it?”
“Yes, sir.” He salutes, then motions at his team members to follow him.
Viktor and his men slip between nearby trees to their positions. They strategically crawl away to avoid triggering any of the mines that we already know the locations of due to the intelligence.
It looks easy, but it takes a lot of concentration and memory to avoid all of them while going unnoticed.
“You three.” Captain motions at the guys with me. “Go back up the other snipers. Any suspicious movement, you shoot to kill.”
“Yes, sir.” They scatter as well so that it’s only me and the captain.
I inch closer to him, my hand tightening on my rifle. “What about me, Captain?”
“You stay still.” He’s speaking to me, but his attention is on where Rulan and the others have disappeared to.
“Maybe you should’ve done everyone a favor and left me at the base then,” I mutter under my breath.
The captain faces me with frightening slowness. Only his eyes are visible from beneath the helmet and they’re narrowed with obvious disapproval.
“Are you talking back to me, soldier?”
“No, sir.” It takes everything in me not to click my tongue.
“You obviously have dissatisfactions. Voice them.”
“Those three guys score lower than me. Why do they get to be backup and I do nothing?”
“Because I said so. Do you need another reason?”
I think I glare at him. No, I’m sure I do, but I catch myself quickly and lower my head.
The dictatorial asshole.
He steps forward, unapologetically barging into my space. I have to remind myself that I’m a ‘man’ and men don’t cower, especially if they want to be taken seriously as a soldier.
I have to remind myself that the captain is only trying to intimidate me, but the pep talk does nothing to slow the rhythm of my heart.
Just why the hell does he affect me this way?
It doesn’t help that I’m inhaling him with every intake of air. It’s impossible to ignore his presence that dwarfs mine or his height that makes me feel like he’s a giant.
Breathing near him is no different than sucking air through a straw.
And this isn’t normal.
“Lift your head, Lipovsky. I want you to look at me again the same way you did just now.”
There’s a dropping quality to his voice, like it’s become deeper and lower than his normal speaking tone.
And now, I’m downright scared about looking at him. Maksim told me Captain is always a wild card.
It takes a man of a certain caliber to leave a family of the Morozov’s standing, just to play a game of death.
I’m slowly starting to see what type of man Captain Kirill is, and I certainly don’t want to be on his shit list.
Not now. Not ever.
But he’s being unreasonable by banning me from the action, so I do glare when I look up.
His eyes are ice cold, but there’s a hint of fire brewing beneath the surface. It’s subtle and discreet, but it’s right there.
Captain reaches a hand out for me, palm open, and a prickling sensation of danger tingles down my spine.
It’s like I’m facing the paw of a lion on the brink of an attack.
My first thought is to run.
But before I can do that, a loud boom echoes in the air.