At the base of one of the safehouses. Washington. USA.
"You do know you have a limit as a lieutenant, don't you?"
Russell said, dragging some loops of air of the cigar in. He puffed the smoke into the face of the standing Roe.
Roe looked away as the smoke danced towards his nostril. But Russell barked at him,
"You look me in the eyes when you talk to me, bozo!"
Russell's eyes were tuning. Tuning red and cawing to the rage of his heart.
There were several other men surrounding the two.
Ten of the soldiers who went out against the mob under the order of the captain had been killed. Ten others were injured while those who survived were exhausted.
"With all due respect sir, it's unprofessional to use cuss words on a lieutenant. Rank separates not life."
Roe said looking sternly into the long face of the captain. He didn't care whatever came outta it. The worst was death and he knew, Russell wouldn't go that far.
