"I use it plenty," Barshai replied. "Just not under the circumstances we were introduced."

He paused, sighing inaudibly, easing back against the covers. He swiped his hand across the silk sheets, marking them with satisfaction.

The he turned his attention back to the phone, the loaded but steady breath in his ear that counterpointed his own.

"Feel better?" he asked.

There was a sharp rap on the door.

"Hey. Everything all right in there?"

He recognized Khartov's voice immediately, even in his satiated stupor. There was a slightly questioning leer in his voice.

"Da," he returned automatically. "Khorosho."

"Khorosho."

He paused, as Khartov yawned, and his footsteps receded.

Merkurii snorted, lightly.

Then he lowered his voice to a lazy murmur.

"You give pretty good lip service, Captain. Maybe Isaev chose his second well."