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lessons.”
    Scott fought back a grin. He hated training with Dostoevsky. But it did have its rewards. Scott was now one of the few people who could go toe to toe with Becan. At least, go toe to toe with him sometimes. Becan was the better fighter, hands down. But every now and then, Scott had a good day. A day when everything worked. This was a very good day.
    “ So wha’s tha’ make the score this month?” Becan asked with a glare. “Me, twenty, you, one?”
    “ I’ve taken you down more than once.”
    “ Bollocks! Name a second time!”
    “ Last Thursday.”
    “… name a third time!”
    Scott tried not to laugh. “I guess that means we’re through for today?”
    “ Righ’. We’re bloody through.” Becan pulled off his headgear. His hair was a sweat-tangled mess.
    But Scott’s hair was worse—practically dripping, and he ran a hand back to mat it down. A fight against Becan could turn a human being into a sweat factory, especially a fight that ended in victory. It took every grain of athleticism to keep pace with the Irishman’s prowess, and sometimes not even that was enough.
    But this time it had been.
    “ So wha’ abou’ these rookies?” Becan asked as he stepped to the edge of the ring to throw off his sparring gear.
    Scott knew Becan was changing the subject. He always did that when he lost. But Scott didn’t mind. “What about them?”
    “ Do we know anythin’?”
    Scott shook his head. “I haven’t even seen their papers. You know as much as I do.”
    “ Yeh know wha’ I think is bloody ridiculous? The fact tha’ it took three bloody months to get reinforcements. That’s flickin’ insane.”
    “ Clarke did say we were getting more reinforcements, in addition to Esther and Maksim. We just don’t know who they are.”
    “ Or when we’ll have them?”
    “ Or when we’ll have them.”
    Becan zipped his duffle bag closed and slung it over his shoulder. “I’m not surprised. Clarke never knows anythin’.”

    The two men walked from the gymnasium and stepped out onto the grounds. Rain had already begun to fall outside, and they hurriedly made their way to the barracks. They managed to get there without becoming soaked.
    “ How bloody fitting is this?” Becan asked, shaking the drops from his hair. “Even the rookies arrive in a storm.”
    Scott chuckled. “Clarke and I were talking about that earlier. That’s got to be more than coincidence.”
    “ They should put a sign on the airstrip: ‘Welcome to hell—it froze over.’ Or, it was frozen when we arrived, at least.”
    Scott laughed a bit more. “I remember everything about our first night here, as if it were yesterday. What a miserable night.”
    “ It was worth it, least for me it was.” The Irishman winked. “I got to see Sveta showerin’.”
    “ Only you would consider that payoff.”
    “ No…” Becan said with a smile. “Only you wouldn’t .”
    Scott said nothing as he continued to walk. Svetlana. He thought about her quite often. How could he not? But there was pain with her memory, too. There was Siberia. There was Anatoly. There was goodbye. And the thought of that still made him hurt.
    “ Ah well,” Becan said. “She was a little too flat-chested for me, annyway.”
    Scott shot him a glare.
    Becan stared back. “Wha’?”
    “ I bet she’d appreciate you saying that,” Scott said scathingly.
    “ Remmy, it was a joke. She was a nice bit o’ skirt.”
    “ That’s not the point.” Scott sighed and walked on. “Never mind.” To even try and explain it to Becan would be useless. Becan saw only her body. He saw blond hair, blue eyes, and small breasts. He saw just what she consisted of. He didn’t see her . The Irishman was like that with every woman.
    “ Didn’t mean to cheese yeh off. I’m sorry.” After several moments, he offered a small smile. “If it makes yeh feel anny better, I don’t think she was into me, either. The first time she saw me, she screamed.”
    Scott tried not