http://blondrussianspy.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] blondrussianspy.livejournal.com) wrote in [personal profile] blonderussianspy 2010-05-27 04:04 am (UTC)

The Australian nodded fractionally.

"So you and the other American are hired guns." It was impossible to tell from his tone if he believed them or not.

Natalya wanted to scream. Her fingertips skirted around the floor by her ankles, looking for anything that could act as a weapon. She kept her eyes on the same non-point in front of her.

"Which means we went out of order." He stood back, and flashed Yorick a perfectly friendly, almost apologetic smile. He said something in the language that was not-quite Russian, and two of the Chechnans, not the other English speakers, went to Natalya's cell and raked the door open.

Natalya took a few measured breaths to brace herself for being hauled up by a combination of her elbow, behind her back, which hurt, and the back of her neck. She managed not to stumble as they started her out of the empty wall-less room and toward the chair, which someone was pulling Yorick up out of.

She did glance at Sam then, the first time she'd managed to see his face, and felt another stab of guilt and something deeper, and hotter, closer to shame.

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