No. It has never happened before. [ Vasiliy reaches for another handful of tissues; the rough one-ply he's squeezing over his cuticles has long since reached its saturation point. He says nothing of the fact that she thinks a reasonable amount of suspicion after waking up from a kidnapping is "paranoid", but he thinks it: it's an Americanism, this blind trust in everything and everyone. She sounds like she's from the future he'd just started to grow accustomed to before being dragged here—no real concept of danger, no frame of reference, no experience actively working to preserve her own life.
He starts to get up, pulling his shirt from behind his belt and withdrawing the firearm tucked into the front of his dark navy work pants. A revolver, pretty much anyone could guess, though the specifics—Soviet Nagant M1895 double action officer's model, NKVD issue, awarded 1937—might be harder to guess at with the year and five-pointed star engraved into the frame partly obscured by his bloody hand. ]
I am going to check the peephole. You should stay back.
no subject
He starts to get up, pulling his shirt from behind his belt and withdrawing the firearm tucked into the front of his dark navy work pants. A revolver, pretty much anyone could guess, though the specifics—Soviet Nagant M1895 double action officer's model, NKVD issue, awarded 1937—might be harder to guess at with the year and five-pointed star engraved into the frame partly obscured by his bloody hand. ]
I am going to check the peephole. You should stay back.