For a moment he saw himself stagger through enemy territory, looking for something that had been Dan. The thought of death chilled him to the bone, like a premonition. He took the bottle once more, washing down the taste of death and decay, chasing away unbidden images. As if that mattered, eh? I'd be fucking dead." Dan shrugged, tossed a grin towards the other, made light of an entirely far too heavy situation. "Simple." Dan nodded, "if I'm unlucky, and if you find my body, will you bury it? Some rocks would do, I can't stand the thought of carrion's. Words that would hurt worse than the killing bullet. Sometimes, that kind of thing was about letters. The effect it had on him, all the time, even when Dan wasn't there. Resting back, savoring the taste, Vadim turned his head to look at Dan. “Russkie, promise me a simple thing?" Out of the blue when they had finished, after a mouthful from the mug.
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