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Not Kirill.
It’s part of who he is. A personality trait that can’t be separated from his essence.
His movements come to a halt before he announces in a clear voice, “Only Team A will proceed. Team B will be backup.”
Viktor gives him a look, probably feeling left out of all the fun.
“It’d be faster if we go at the same time,” someone from Team B, none other than Maksim, says, not giving a damn about the glare his team captain gives him.
“Only Team A,” Captain repeats. “And, Rulan, I want you to follow your gut. If there’s anything amiss, don’t wait for my signal. Retreat to the pickup point, got it?”
“Yes, sir.” He salutes, then motions at his team members to follow him.
Viktor and his men slip between nearby trees to their positions. They strategically crawl away to avoid triggering any of the mines that we already know the locations of due to the intelligence.
It looks easy, but it takes a lot of concentration and memory to avoid all of them while going unnoticed.
“You three.” Captain motions at the guys with me. “Go back up the other snipers. Any suspicious movement, you shoot to kill.”
“Yes, sir.” They scatter as well so that it’s only me and the captain.
I inch closer to him, my hand tightening on my rifle. “What about me, Captain?”
“You stay still.” He’s speaking to me, but his attention is on where Rulan and the others have disappeared to.
“Maybe you should’ve done everyone a favor and left me at the base then,” I mutter under my breath.
The captain faces me with frightening slowness. Only his eyes are visible from beneath the helmet and they’re narrowed with obvious disapproval.
“Are you talking back to me, soldier?”
“No, sir.” It takes everything in me not to click my tongue.
“You obviously have dissatisfactions. Voice them.”
“Those three guys score lower than me. Why do they get to be backup and I do nothing?”
“Because I said so. Do you need another reason?”
I think I glare at him. No, I’m sure I do, but I catch myself quickly and lower my head.
The dictatorial asshole.
He steps forward, unapologetically barging into my space. I have to remind myself that I’m a ‘man’ and men don’t cower, especially if they want to be taken seriously as a soldier.
I have to remind myself that the captain is only trying to intimidate me, but the pep talk does nothing to slow the rhythm of my heart.
Just why the hell does he affect me this way?
It doesn’t help that I’m inhaling him with every intake of air. It’s impossible to ignore his presence that dwarfs mine or his height that makes me feel like he’s a giant.
Breathing near him is no different than sucking air through a straw.
And this isn’t normal.
“Lift your head, Lipovsky. I want you to look at me again the same way you did just now.”
There’s a dropping quality to his voice, like it’s become deeper and lower than his normal speaking tone.
