[Pevek, Russia]<br/>[0300 Hrs]<br/><br/><br/>Alexi Stirred from his couch. His left hand brushed against the empty bottle sitting precariously a quarter empty. It tipped, smashing in an almost ginger-like manner, the last of the alcohol pouring out and staining the rotten wood floor. His eyes opened slowly, the dim lamp in the corner of the room blinding his vision. He muttered something and continued to wake up, his right hand reaching to the stubble that had been growing on his chin and quickly itching. He then finally sat up, picking up the broken bottle in his left hand. There was a swallow of fluid left in it, and he cared not that there was broken glass in it. He tilted his head back and started to drink, keeping his teeth clenched to strain out the glass. As he finished, he spat on the floor, his saliva tinged with some blood from a cut cheek.<br/><br/>The lamp flickered somewhat as the blizzard outside molested the power lines. He then turned to the radio, playing an old recording of "Kalinka". He kept the tempo of the song as he started to flex his neck, cracking the cartilage. Finally, he stood up and walked to a worn out closet, grabbing a coat and other assorted pieces of clothing. He then walked back to the couch, and pulled out a vest from underneath a cushion, as well as a Browning Hi-Power with 3 magazines. As he finished dressing and lacing up his worn boots, he holstered his pistol on the back of his belt along with the 3 magazines that were now loaded with 9mm hollowpoints. He caught the sight of his breath vapor as he moved the thick blanket from the window to look outside. The doorway was still free of snow, though the sun was in perpetual twilight and the storm had not subsided. He walked to the kitchen to see Chance Calgori sleeping in a makeshift bed next to the camping stove. His booted foot gently kicked his temple. "VstavaÄ­, U nas yestÊ¹ rabota, chtoby sdelatÊ¹ ... VstavaÄ­! Get up!" He said as he walked to retrieve a coffee pot. He then picked up the camping stove and lit it, before opening the door to collect a large amount of snow into the pot. He then set the snow-filled pot on top of the burner, watching the frost melt into water. "You've been reading my memoirs again, boy?" He asked with slight interest as he reached into a pocket to fetch a cigarillo and a match. He mouthed the end of the tobacco and struck the match on the floor, a spark igniting the match and subsequently lighting his smoke. He took a few puffs before checking his watch. "I suggest going outside and checking the snow level before you come back in here to sit down.<br/><br/>Ever since being excommunicated from his immigrant country, he knew they'd be tracked. He made contact with a few old friends to acquire this shack on the coast of kamchatka, known now as chukotsky. On the outside everything seemed abandoned, but the inside was well furnished and decently insulated, and had access to the underground where most of Cain's studies were, as well as he lab. The past few months, a blizzard had cripped transportation to and from this small town, aside from boat. This was a puls in their case, as they would be able to avoid detection for a few more months, before they would have to move once more. Alexi thought carefully as he puffed on his cigarillo.