"Why don't you two sit back and let the grown ups handle their business." Natalya stumbled into the cell next to Sam's, gaze darting only briefly to him, visibly alarmed for only a fraction of that moment.
An uncomfortable looking metal chair, edges corrugated and stained with questionable fluids, scraped the cement as it was dragged down the hall to be placed roughly at the center of the square formed by the four cells. The Australian pulled a lighter from his pocket and used it to light a new cigarette.
"So," he said, kicking his heel up onto it and leaning his elbow on his knee, looking to the Russian soldier next to Yorick, "does anyone want to explain the thrust of this little excursion?"
He turned his attention to Natalya. His second in command was still looking rough around the edges, and just about livid. Seething, at least.
"Eh, comrade? Care to account for the presence of your American friends?"
Natalya had managed to get her knees under her, if not her feet. She didn't look at him. She was too busy trying to remember which cell they'd gone to first, who'd they'd tortured first. It was hard to focus.
The Australian straightened and wandered back to look between Sam and Yorick.
"Always the biggest different between the Russians and, well, everyone else. Not big talkers, the Russians. Not like you," he said to Yorick.
"So, maybe one of you would like to explain your presence here."
Natalya leaned forward a little, as though she were having difficult keeping conscious, but was mostly trying to find and catch Yorick's eye.
Say nothing say nothing oh, please, say nothing until I've figured this out.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2010-05-24 03:54 am (UTC)"Why don't you two sit back and let the grown ups handle their business." Natalya stumbled into the cell next to Sam's, gaze darting only briefly to him, visibly alarmed for only a fraction of that moment.
An uncomfortable looking metal chair, edges corrugated and stained with questionable fluids, scraped the cement as it was dragged down the hall to be placed roughly at the center of the square formed by the four cells. The Australian pulled a lighter from his pocket and used it to light a new cigarette.
"So," he said, kicking his heel up onto it and leaning his elbow on his knee, looking to the Russian soldier next to Yorick, "does anyone want to explain the thrust of this little excursion?"
He turned his attention to Natalya. His second in command was still looking rough around the edges, and just about livid. Seething, at least.
"Eh, comrade? Care to account for the presence of your American friends?"
Natalya had managed to get her knees under her, if not her feet. She didn't look at him. She was too busy trying to remember which cell they'd gone to first, who'd they'd tortured first. It was hard to focus.
The Australian straightened and wandered back to look between Sam and Yorick.
"Always the biggest different between the Russians and, well, everyone else. Not big talkers, the Russians. Not like you," he said to Yorick.
"So, maybe one of you would like to explain your presence here."
Natalya leaned forward a little, as though she were having difficult keeping conscious, but was mostly trying to find and catch Yorick's eye.
Say nothing say nothing oh, please, say nothing until I've figured this out.