Nicholai can hear the two men cursing him from behind, can hear the poisonous name calling, but he just laughs. And he has good reason to. These men are rookies, pawns and otherwise, expendable. They hadn't seen Raccoon City, nor had they seen anything else remotely close to the fantastic sights and sounds he has been witness to in his life time. To kill them would be like slicing the throat of an infant; no harm, no foul.
Instead, Ginovaef just rolls his neck to the side and turns a very dangerous smile back to the men he is supposed to be calling his comrades.
"In my country," he began, silver brows rising and teeth set into sharp daggers, "-you would be flogged, then your hands would be chopped off and you would be made into dog food. Delicious dog food." For emphasis, Nicholai licks his lower lip before continuing.
The silence is music to his ears.
Until a familiar voice chirps in.
The Russian turns fast on his heel, hand instinctively going for the large buck-knife set on his leg. His brows fall and his cold eyes narrow.
"-Speaking of dogs, it seems your commander has come for a welcome party."