<blockquote><div><cite>SpectreSlade wrote:</cite>Roy turned, and as he did, ran a hand to his pocket and checked on his lighter. He was always paranoid of someone stealing the thing, and anyway, it had sentimental value. The big man running to him had a thick Russian accent, and wore a gas mask. "Oi, big man, I don't know. Do I BLOODY LOOK RUSSIAN? I'm workin 'ere for the UK government." At this he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, taking a long slow drag of the nicotine and tobacco. <br/><br/>"Sorry about the yelling mate. Sand keeps putting out my smokes."</div></blockquote><br/><br/>The big man slowed to an awkward stop in front of the stranger, his hand half-raised in a moment of uncertainty - before it swiftly passed, the hand jumping to rest on his waist.<br/><br/>"Ayy, you're English soldier ah? 'For Queen and Country' right? Yeah! Ey that's okaye with me my friend, I am not local soldier either, I work for Russia! We are same!" he went on, enthusiasm back in full swing as the hand that was resting on his waist for no more than a second gave the man a friendly slap on the shoulder, before immediately returning to his waist again. "You are eh....transfer? Is that word? Transfer to this unit too? Or, you are Captain?" the Russian continued, his head tilting slightly as the last question left him.