A little less conversation... [Part I]

It began normally enough.

Evening in Groznyj Grad, and like usual, Leshovik and I were prowling around rooftops, trying to get a bead on the target. Leshovik had thought he'd found the target's quarters the other night, so we found the perfect rooftop nest and set up to wait.

Leshovik and I talked a little, but he seemed preoccupied. That was fine. Snipers are patient. I can wait a long time. So can Leshovik, actually, though you wouldn't think so.

We didn't have long to wait before I caught sight of the target and things took off from there.

When we got back, well, things got a little ugly.

But then...they got better.

( 'I don't always like Leshovik's attitude,' he remarked, hiding his smile as he turned away, easing his undershirt up and over the over-broad span of his shoulders. 'But I can't fault his taste.'  )

...a little more action [Part II]

And then, things got even better...

( 'What...do you want to do? You can stay as long as you want. I'm not afraid of Leshovik. If he's angry, so be it.' )

All this aggravation ain't satisfactioning me [Part III]

But after that...ouch.

Talk about difficult conversations.

( 'What you do mean, you were with Lynx?' )