Khartov smiled vaguely out at the rain.

"Married," he said. "No, that's not my style at all."

He paused, shrugging.

"Girlfriends. A few."

He exhaled blue smoke into the rain and watched it die in the downpour.

"Nothing serious."

His lip curled.

"Can't have too much deadweight, now, can we?"

Khartov turned around and found his bottle of vodka, tipping it up against his lips and chasing the taste of the cigarette.

He sighed, closing his eyes and settling back into the barcelona chair in front of the fire.

"How about you Captain? Got a woman?"

He paused, grinning slightly.

"Somehow I don't think so."