Long experienced fingers splayed wide on the designated 'home of alpha team' the space between them not nearly wide enough to properly accommodate the buck knife that was dancing half moons in the table top, back and forth between digits with the diligence of a seasoned veteran, huge saucer sized eye balls locked on place fingers, where pale blue were locked on him, placing the finger dance without ever looking down from his victim of circumstance. Slicked back blond hair threatened to fall forward, but it was the one time perhaps that the Russian refused his compulsion to push it back and instead sped his pace, watching beads of salt and sweat forming on the temple and hair line of one Finn Macauley. For an explosives expert the boy had no resistance. Not a shred of discipline. Watching the way Nivans tore into him day after day it was a surprise to Luka that this young man never left, but then it wasn't so shocking. Apart from nearly having a brain aneurism when Alpha suggested Finn do a body shot off Piers' stomach it was fairly obvious how the rookie agent felt about their A.T.L. That of course, was why he came to Finn, last.

Captain Luka Gvorik was not a fool. There was no man alive that could boast that fact and be considered credible. He was an intelligence officer, which here meant that he was good at gathering intel, but in Russia it meant something different. It meant that fingers and toes were optional, that you have two eyes and that something called the Geneva Convention does not apply. A kind of world he grew up in, and when you were done with the mess left of the man you had 'interrogated' you left their bodies naked in the snow for the wolves to feast on. There was no person alive that claim ignorance to a man such as him. Not that these kinds of things were necessary. The little things, the subtle things were the things you looked for when picking a man, and then you worked him. Show him you intentions by making him the last man standing. The youthful explosives expert was in fact the only man standing. He could gauge and use the information he retrieved from the others but it was all the build up to the one tenement moment to get all his answers and then some. He wasn't certain why he was so compelled himself but it Finn was the tipping point. He had started with Walker.

"You want to talk about what now Rusky?"

"About you. I was given the task of evaluation by my country, and I find that one can not truly-

"Yeah, yeah, what do you want to know?" Andy shifted in his place, lethargically placing pieces of his 9-0-9 on the cloth in front of him as each part was dismantled for cleaning, a woman draped in his lap cooing things in his ear that most Russian prostitutes would have trouble fulfilling. It didn't even phase the man she was perched on however. Long manicured nails slithered up Walker's chest, along the seams of his regular uniform and around his shoulders draping on him yet out of his way; whispering about how she wanted 'big daddy' to take a break from his gun to show him the 'target.' "Not yet woman, I've got company can't ya see that?" There was laughter, but all his own, Luka sneering at the distasteful way she was parading herself for him. It was becoming quite clear that no one was responsible in this crew, at least when they were scattered. How walker got a call girl on a military base was beyond him, particularly one so well defended as this, the S.O.U. training facilities were some of the best in the world, and here was a common gutter prostitute sitting in the man's lap, just like the one at the bar the night before. Each woman was the same, always trying to get sell what shouldn't have been anything but cherished. "Thong or commando baby?"

"I'm sitting on the commando?"

"How long have you been working for captain Redfield?"

"Oh about two years, give or take, but I've been working with B.S.A.A. for five. Can't say it hasn't done the trick, I've got everything I need here. Besides I'm the best at what I do ask anyone. Mmm, and I think I'm gonna do you next, would you like that baby?" The hooker squealed in his lap like a school girl, twiddling overly long sanguine finger nails through her pigtails when Andy bounced her in his lap, throwing down the last pieces of his weapon. "Give big daddy a kiss."

Ice blue eyes narrowed turning his face away, Andy's mockery of a kiss sloppy and wet sounding while they laughed together, Walker's hands squishing her large round cheeks under the skirt he was wearing, all the more noises whorishly emit as he snaked his tongue into her mouth, stained red lips sucking on his tongue like it was a piece of meat she'd done over a thousand times before. "How long has he been drinking on the job?" The question went unnoticed, more giggles filling he air while Andy worked his hands up the pleated skirt just a bit further, only the muscles in his forearms working and the occasional moan the dead give away what he was doing to the woman. "Apart from your... lady here, your team mates have all seemed quite professional on the matter. They have others?" Baritone words were lost as the girl started her completely unabashed moaning, squirming in Andy's lap as her legs slipped further and further apart, the flex of his wrist and pumping of his hand taking all his attention as she started throwing her head back, playing with those playing with brunette pig tails and bucking into his hand. "You are close with them." After the insistence to continue the conversation Andy pull his hand away, glistening and putting it in front of her face, watching the unashamed whiff of her own scent before disgusted and used finger tips were held out to Luka, Walker casting a side long glance at him with a witty little snort to follow.

"Look man, Captain Redfield has been working this shit since before this pretty little cunt was born... I don't give a flying fuck if he drinks on the job or not. He's brought me home more times than I can count on both hands. I don't know what you're prying at Stalin, but lay off the captain." Luka smacked his hand aside, incurring a laugh that chimed from both whore and soldier, fingers slipping into his gruff mouth, smirking and wiping them off on her skirt. "Like honey baby, like honey... As far as my boys are concerned. Yeah we're a little clinging to the job. I mean I get all the pussy I want, Carl can have my left overs if he really wants them. Captain doesn't really have a life outside the cigarettes, him and Valentine use to have a thing..., and Finn gets off just being surrounded by us. Not that he'd ever hear me say it, but he's a righteous bomb maker. So yeah we've all got something that tides us over I guess. None of us are actually tied down if that's what you're asking. That is no one but Nivans; he belongs to his woman, hahaha."

Working that system, that beautiful system. The first man, Andy walker, would report to the others that the commie captain had started asking questions about captain Redfield about the team, and that was the first seed. Plant doubt, fear, upset, curiosity. Get their stories straight so that when it came to this man..., boy, he would need to have every lie straight in his head, that had been fed to him while staring like a doe eyed barbie doll at the knife whirring by faster and faster between his fingers, just on the edge of his seat. Of course the men would defend their captain. Not only was he a man of some honor, but he was the man who killed Albert Wesker, and as Walker had stated, brought his men home in one piece time and time again. Captain Redfield had obviously fought long and hard for his men, it was noble. And now every one of them assumed that Luka was looking to evaluate Chris. Including this poor little boy, hoping and praying, waiting for Gvorik to say anything so he could give him well rehearsed answers and get it over with. Of course, yes he was evaluating the captain, no man was never not being evaluated, but this was about getting to know the men around him, and one particular man who'd issued the first challenge Captain Chris Redfield was Russia's target, but one mission and a few extra days in the unit, and he found his own target veered to a different man. A thundering pound of the knife and it rung in place between forefinger and thumb, wavering back forth; watery eyes fighting not to clench shut and weep while they rose to Luka's strong jaw and then higher to his straight nose, and exacting blue eyes, silence mortifying from the contrast of the multiple taps of the knife hitting the table like a slowly oncoming train until it hits you. Apparently he still thought there should have been a knife embedded in his hand. "Tell me something agent Macauley... do you like your job?

"I've been working for captain Redfield for I don't know... I haven't kept count. I know Walker has been my partner for almost 18 months when they put me on Finn duty. Have me watching that baby's backside like I bore him fromm my man cunt. Freakin' annoying. At least Walker knows which direction is north is. You ask Macauley and he'll squeal like a pig and then lay an egg before crying for captain."

Brown eyes were glued to the system in front of him, dexterous thumbs flying over the directional keys and lettered buttons, eyes flicking over the tiny screen before him and tiny little 8 bit music lofting up from the box giving Carl Alfonso every reason to ignore his interrogator. They each found a way to ignore him. Walker with his whore, Carl with this game system. He'd meant to talk to Chris himself but he had been shut up inside his office with a cold bottle of U.S. made vodka and a thousand cigarette butts dealing with paperwork. Of course the one thing he'd been told Redfield never does would be the one thing he picks to do on the day that Luka starts asking questions. But that was the idea, each one avoiding talking to him. He could watch these little miscreants do their deeds without so much as a flinch and get his task under way, filling his pool of knowledge with each misstep there was made so long as they stayed in one place and were accessable. The only persons he couldn't talk to, was the captain, and agent Nivans; who was spending the morning teaching a crew of, according to him: the world's saddest bunch of boyscouts he'd ever seen. The way he said it, the way he had men standing on their toes, shaking under the force of having a machine action pistol pointed directly at their right eye, the same eye he shot out in every head shot, Luka almost believed the threat himself. He certainly did his job of intimidating those men, and had the anger needed all bottled up inside him. If the young sniper didn't seem so intent on working for Redfield, he would probably had a captain's job by now. Not only was he building a bond with the men, but they were learning to stop quaking like five year olds and to no hesitate. Instantly afterward he treated them to an asskicking Piers always made sure to provide and be the example of what he was asking them to do. His moves were perfection to a T, each step defined, explained, and trained through. He was the only one making sure he couldn't be interrupted with this line of questioning by doing something of importance.

Still there they were. And aside from that this was about agent Macauley. The last man standing, who would break and give everything up, everything he wanted after hearing the different reports. "What do you think of your country agent?"

That wasn't in his list of requests from Walker... Carl snapped his head up, rolling spit around in his cheek before looking back down when his screen flashed blue: Game over. "What kind of question is that Captain Gvorik? I love my country. Its a fucking wonderful place to live. Where else can you go to practice every way of life and then go into other people's countries to fight theirs? Are you trying to tell me I don't come off as patriotic? I'm the fucking statue of liberty man! Without the skirt." About to press the NEW GAME action, Luka's hand snapped out, canting his head as he pulled the system out of grubby hands slowly, letting him fight with what to say apart from the apparent, "HEY!"

"Tell me about your team mates.

"I've worked here for six months! I have no friends, I don't like peanut butter, Andy stole the water bottles from the conference room refrigerator and replaced them all with vodka! I love mmmmyy coun...country, and yes captain Redfield drinks on the job and I'm soooo SOOORRRYYY!" Caved like a house of cards... Luka was staring at Finn, patting him on the back and shaking his head 'understandingly' patting a hand over his weak little shoulder blades, the youngest member of Alpha practically weeping over the tension that had built up in his chest all day long, trying to breath and finding no reprieve as he was looked down on by this Russian authority figure, one eyebrow raised in a questioning manner that asked if that was all. "I... I..., Carl calls Andy's girlfriends after they leave his place, Andy calls Carl's ex-girlfriend to gloat about it... Um um... Captain Redfield had an affair with general Valentine when they were both back from Africa, and and... I don't know what do you want from me!?" Finn was a wreck of chewed nails to the quick and finally was huffing in giant gasps of air fumbling over himself as Luka released his shoulder and palmed his combat knife still swaying in the table to cram it back in his boot sheath, letting Finn control himself.

It was a semblance of control. It was the kind of control he wanted him to feel. If he thought those questions were the kind he wanted answered then he was relaxed now that he had gotten it all off his chest, loose lips wanting to wag now that they had finally given it all away. Captain Redfield was a drunk. He knew that, just from watching him, a lot of mixed up angst there, but this was what he wanted... all the information on Alpha team's dirty secrets poured out at once. Andy Walker was a trouble maker, and Carl was his sloppy second. Apparently general Valentine let captain Redfield get away with everything because she was infatuated with the man; meaning not to take a single complaint directly to her. Finn would leave the North American branch of S.O.U. if he was given enough incentive-

"SHUT IT MACAULEY!"

Luka was about to turn, but someone did it for him, hands winding in his uniform twisting him around in his seat and shoving that broad upper body against the table top uniform bunching up; while Finn almost peed himself from shock. If he hadn't known who it was, he might have fought back; used leverage to bury his shoulder into the gut of whoever grabbed him and flip him over on the table top. But it was Piers' fist winding powerfully in his uniform, bending him over backward on the lip of the table's edge with one leg over his waist and legs on the bench pinning him there, and in that instance, it wasn't at all disturbing. Of course this was how Nivans worked... always so uptight, so easy to get to trip up on his upset. You could time a clock with how long it took before Piers was at your throat for back talk. "Agent Nivans, I was just about to look for-

"Beat it Finn... I don't want any witnesses when I kill him." Finn was gone in a heart beat, stumbling over himself. Hazel eyes locking on ice blue as they stayed there, one trapped under the other's thigh, with a forearm and fist holding down his torso into the bruising wood table top edge. "I don't know what your problem with Captain Redfield is, but it stops here, understand? When someone threatens my team I'm not above making sure the Russian S.O.U. signs off when I deliver them your corpse. Trust me, I am not kidding you Gvorik, keep your prying questions away from this unit or so help me I will make sure the next round I shoot goes through your eye." Nimble fingers were coaxing the uniform around Luka's throat tighter even though the man never lost his stride once, just maintained his straight face, not amused or upset as the Piers judged him eventually relenting his grip and righting himself apart from the leg pinning Luka in his seat. "If you knew him captain, you would understand. I'm not sure what you are doing here, but I don't need to know. Just keep Chris out of it."

"You are impressively strong agent Nivans..."

Piers cocked a brow, his entire presence changing at the statement, hearing the tone in his voice, not patronizing, but admiring. Luka wasn't at all staring at his face though, bring that wry amusement to youthful features, following his line of sight which was planted openly on the well muscled leg across his lap, following the journey of each rigging that hugged and exhibited his legs. Rolling sharp eyes and righting himself, fingers relenting their hold and brushing out the wrinkles they had formed briskly the soldier let himself come off the adrenaline high his voice tempering out. "I'm a soldier Lucky. I was bred to be strong. I told you to keep your eyes forward."

"True... but what if when my eyes are forward... it happens to be you are sitting in my lap... agent." Two sets of eyes caught each other, eagle sharp watching the wild in those icy cold ones capable of sending frostbite through the thickest skin, searching for a reason to shift his leg and bury his knee in a place that the Russian might regret for the rest of eternity. "I wasn't just asking about your captain you know... of course you wouldn't know that because it was what you were looking to find... you are strangely loyal to the man. In honesty agent, I am more curious about you... I've heard everyone on this base say the same things. That you are married to your job, a man apart. That no one has ever seen you with a woman, and yet your girlfriend has you wrapped around her little finger. That you are the best that the B.S.A.A. has ever recruited since the great captain Redfield... and that you are playing captain when you should be one in rank. Tell me something, is there a reason why even though I've never seen you... with anyone. You insist on telling people you are a taken man?" Pier was watching carefully, jaw clenched as pale skin rested on his calf, squeezing through fatigues the two still locking eyes together. "You are a truly impressive man agent Nivans, one who deserves for his strength to be appreciated. You claim you don't need it," strong hands gripped tighter, coaxing a single change of expression from Piers that reflected exactly what he'd hoped to see. That single moment of the want to give him, "But what if I told you I wanted to be the one to appreciate you. All of you." Luka's hand moved slowly upward, feeling the defined muscle in a tensed calf.

Piers lips pouted just the slightest before Piers jerked his leg back over the side of the table bench, giving him a look somewhere between annoyed and flattered. "You aren't shy about what you want, are you captain?"

"I find that shy gets you no where. I, on the other hand, know exactly where I want to be."

"And where exactly is that Lucky?"

Luka smirked, standing up until he towered over Piers forcing him to look up at him, lips pulling in a tight smile as he covered a hand over Piers' spare. "I think you know the answer to that agent," rubbing his thumb over the top of Piers that was resting atop his rifle muzzle, hazel eyes cast down at the gun before up again, sucking in his cheek trying to force himself not to smile at the advances. The noticeable attempt teased Luka's own smile to widen, stroking his fingers over the top of that trigger finger until those fingers were swiftly jerked away; rifle hoisted up on that lean shoulder and given a disinterested shrug, putting an end to those propositions. A coy smile was all he was he needed to know that he'd lost.

"Sorry Lucky... lady calls."