This is the officer who was supposed to be sleeping, Sasha thought.
“Now I’m married, Comrade Lieutenant,” Oleg said, and headbutted the officer across the bridge of the nose. Purposefully dropping the tear gas, he caught the officer by the lapels with his left hand, struck him again with a crunch — one, two, three. He leaned back and drove his elbow, like a millstone, into his opponent’s jaw, putting into the blow all the Herculean strength of his ugly, muscled body.
Carefully holding the officer up, Oleg planted him in the snow, but he immediately fell down, clutching his face in his hands, slightly kicking one leg. Sasha flew over, snatched the pistol from his holster and the handcuffs from his belt. As he cuffed the officer’s hands, generously covered in blood and yielding easily, he
