The Jackal has his eyes closed for a good while. He's tired and he's really looking forward to getting into a bunk with his favorite bottle of vodka. But, all of those pleasurable thoughts are ruined as HUNK speaks again. Nicholai's teeth slam together.
If only he could kill Alexander right here and now.
"Пакостная американская собака." That sick grin spreads from ear to ear as he twists a dark eye to HUNK. "What would you know about Russia?" The subject is a sour one for Nicholai, but one he won't openly show. The last time he was in Russia, it was in the company of his commander, of his leader of a good ten to fifteen years. And now, that man was dead.
It wasn't as if he feels sorrow for Sergei Vladimir; it is more resentment if anything.
Ginovaef peels another cigarette out of his dwindling back and pushes it through his lips before igniting it with a match. "It is still, as you say, beautiful. It is only ugly where foreigners have touched her soil." He inhales sharply and falls back behind Alexander.
"I do not care of this history; I just wish to get inside." Canadians didn't mean shit to him; they're just another civilization that he blatantly ignores.