"I don't think that's what you want, Irinarhov," he said, in a voice of deadly quiet. "Being in spetsnaz you might be generally cavalier about offering indentured servitude. But you'd better think twice, before you come to me."
Ilarion tilted his head, slightly, rubbing his thumb slowly along the side of his cognac glass, almost in the manner he'd touched Oleksei.
"Still," he said, "there is no reason I couldn't find a place for an able-bodied man in Leningrad."
He paused, frowning slightly as he took a drink. He tasted the fine liquor, savored it and swallowed, as his robe gapped slightly, flashing a darkly inked eye at the sniper, unbeknownst to Ilarion.
Gazing down into the glass, he fingered the rim, the set of his lips contemplative.
"What do you see yourself doing, Captain, if not laboring at my pleasure?"
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"I don't think that's what you want, Irinarhov," he said, in a voice of deadly quiet. "Being in spetsnaz you might be generally cavalier about offering indentured servitude. But you'd better think twice, before you come to me."
Ilarion tilted his head, slightly, rubbing his thumb slowly along the side of his cognac glass, almost in the manner he'd touched Oleksei.
"Still," he said, "there is no reason I couldn't find a place for an able-bodied man in Leningrad."
He paused, frowning slightly as he took a drink. He tasted the fine liquor, savored it and swallowed, as his robe gapped slightly, flashing a darkly inked eye at the sniper, unbeknownst to Ilarion.
Gazing down into the glass, he fingered the rim, the set of his lips contemplative.
"What do you see yourself doing, Captain, if not laboring at my pleasure?"