There was a strain in Nicholai's eyes, his fingers going for the knife again. But it was only taken out and tossed aside; out of reach and out of mind.
It was HUNK's question that had brought him the baggage, but Nicholai had allowed the sparks to cascade through him. And now he was left in a position he did not like. But it was a position that was familiar and panic and respect washed over cold, empty features.
"Полковник?" He asked, slightly subdued. Then, he tried to shake his head and only got a stiff neck out of the deal. He had almost forgot where he was for a moment.