Nikolai could feel the familiar smell of blood and smoke. It felt like his weapon was safe in his lap, and it was his guilty pleasure. It was illegal that he was a part of the private military company but, he knew it of all the pre-planning he did to murder and rob banks, and shoot innocent people in the head, but that's what made him, him.

'Я проклят, блять' He thought to himself His firearm was right on his lap, he was about to shoot his target when hear it footstep's. He abruptly turn'd his head turned towards the direction he heard the sound but all he could see around him was brown dusty smoke from the dirt and smoke and wind working together. He squinted and went back to look down at his gun, glocking it once more before

—блять, почему этот долбоёб так шевелится, сейчас с ним разберусь... — he muttered to himself as he got pissed as hell at that scratching noise around. On top of it, he now started perceiving it drawing closer. He clicked his tongue and lowered the gun, turning his head again to that direction and .. now finding you there ... but are you . . . sitting on his lap?!