Bear Crepov stared at the photograph and wondered what the words at the bottom meant.
"Yeah, he was one of 'em. In fact I damn near killed him."
"Be thankful you did not," the cossack colonel said. "You'd probably have lost your balls."
"For killing a convict? That's what you people pay me to do!"
"This one is different. They want him alive." The colonel snatched the photograph out of Bear's hand.
"We didn't wait to notify St. Nicholas about the ambush before sending you out. However, they already knew about it and were adamant that we not 'unleash' any hunters." He absently rubbed a knuckle under his heavy mustache.
"There for a minute, I thought they were going to have my balls."
Bear didn't like the total bewilderment he felt. Somebody was busy pissing on his boots, but he couldn't figure out exactly who or how. Or what to do to stop them.
"Those bastards killed my best friend as well as another promyshlennik and a fuckin' cossack sergeant on top of that!"
"I'm sorry about your friend. Friends are much harder to come by than promyshlenniks or cossack sergeants. But for now you must not attempt revenge."
"I swore on Wolverine's body!" Anger surged through him. He'd have to visit Katti tonight. "How long do I have to wait?"
"I don't know. They're sending a cossack captain out from St. Nicholas to talk to you."
"I don't care if he is a captain. If they don't let me hunt those animals down, I'll tear off his head and piss in the hole!"
"Her head," the colonel said dryly.
"What?"
"The captain is a woman."
"Even better." Bear licked his lips. "I'll tear off her head and—"
"Get out of my office," the colonel said icily, "now."
"—fuck the hole!" he bellowed. He stomped from the office. As he went through the door, the noise of the combination army post and prison washed over him.
The wind blew from the latrine today, unusual for this time of year. He also smelled meat cooking and went in search of it.