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Instead of the gloomy, somewhat careful atmosphere I’ve come to expect before every mission, the hall bubbles with the exact opposite.
Utensils have been thrown around, drinks have been spilled everywhere, and some sort of an eating competition is going on in the corner. Laughter, cursing, and idle teasing fill the space to the brim.
But most of all, the mood is laid-back.
Maksim and Rulan are singing in their god-awful voices that I wouldn’t wish on an enemy. Then in the midst of the human rights violation, a softer voice slips through.
My eyes narrow on the slim, frail soldier between my men, and it’s none other than Lipovsky.
Of course.
Why am I not surprised that he’s in the middle of all of this?
The others clap, shout, or bang their cups on the table in rhythm with the singing. Yuri yells for Maksim and Rulan to shut the fuck up because they’re overshadowing Lipovsky’s more pleasant voice, to which they sing louder.
My attention remains on Lipovsky.
Bringing him to the unit wasn’t a well-studied decision. Yes, he showed improvement, and I could see the potential in him, but he’s too much work that’s not worth it.
No matter how much he strengthens his muscles, he’s still the weakest physically. He’s also the one with the most glares and subtle avoiding techniques.
He’s been part of my unit for a month, and he’s tactfully managed to avoid alone time with me for just as long.
It’s subtle things, such as always remaining in a group and joining Maksim’s foolish antics and Yuri’s physical routine.
Ever since the day he helped Team B win the football game for the first time in months, they’ve all switched to his side. He has effortlessly blended into the group and gotten used to the unit. Not only as a soldier, but also as an actual member of a community.
Although we have a paramedic, he personally cleans the wound of whoever gets injured and even has a small medical kit on standby. The fuckers actually prefer him over the medic because he’s apparently more gentle.
The fuck they care about gentleness when they’re soldiers?
Needless to say, he’s a bad fucking influence. I could’ve avoided this annoying shift in my men if I’d simply left him to rot in his previous unit.
“Is it too late to ship him back to the infantry?” Viktor whispers my thoughts.
Or what he thinks are my thoughts.
Taking Lipovsky in was a moment of chaos that I would repeat again in a heartbeat. Yes, he’s an infuriating little fucker, but he’s disciplined and plays well with the team. He’s also an excellent sniper, who’s only missing some field action.
He’s neither antagonistic nor individualistic. Bonus point, he actually cares about his colleagues’ well-being.
The moment Yuri became friends with him, I learned just how influential Lipovsky could be. Maksim knows everyone and is friends with the whole army.
Yuri, on the other hand, has never felt at ease, except in Maksim’s company and, now, with the newcomer. After a certain incident a few years ago, he had to have reparative surgery and drew further into himself. Until Maksim took it upon himself to get him out of his funk. Unknowingly, Lipovsky has been helping with that, too.
And Yuri is an influential strategist in my arsenal. So whenever he’s in a good mood, I can count on getting the best results from him.
“He’s useful,” I tell Viktor.
He looks at me as if I’m the fruit of Satan and an unruly hooker, not bothering to hide the map of disgust covering his face. “He’s a fucking weakling who spends twice as much time to do the same activities the others do.”
“It’s one point five now. Not twice.”
“Still more than needed.”
“You weren’t born a mountain, Viktor. Improvement takes time.”
He narrows his eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re defending the slimy fucker.”
