"Did you hear me, Nikanor Grigoriivich?" demanded Ilarion, loudly, brows raising in ire, stepping forward.

Liadov shook his head faintly, but he paused, without turning.

"I did not do this thing." Lasha's words were deliberate and punctuated by stabbing stresses.

Nika remained still for a moment, as if weighing his tone and timbre against all that he knew of Lasha.

Ilarion knew that was exactly what he was doing.

And yet the seconds dragged on apace and he made no move to turn around.

Then, Nika's voice, measured and modulated, pragmatic and refashioned into its familiar MVD tone.

"We'll speak of this issue later, Major Isaev. Expect me."

Lasha's eyes narrowed.

"Fine," he bit out, abruptly. "Go. But ask yourself, Nika, if I have ever lied about anything I've done."