"Why would a put a bullet in my head when yours is still completely empty of one?" A sly grin threatens on the other line and Nicholai's laugh returns, though more subdued than before. "I treasure my life. Death has no worries of existing, but the jackal does. He has a life string, as it were."
"Тупоумный дурачок." There's a click on the other line followed by a long, deep inhale. Then, Nicholai breathes again and there seems to be heaviness in his tone.
"Alexander," he starts, his voice now slightly timid, slightly whispered. "-you do know this will not end well for you once this job is all over. I intend to finish this, to bring this whole charade to a close. It has been far too long and I am beginning to grow tired." There is truth there, hanging on hollow and smoke-filled words. What that truth is, Nicholai will always refuse to speak about. But it is unspoken as he inhales deeply again on the other side and groans.