"Now that's interesting," Max rubbed his hands, grinning broadly. "Camouflage and increase vigilance! Yeroshin! Scout the flanks, report any activity immediately!"
Meanwhile, the trio, having confirmed their intentions were understood and no one was going to shoot at them, picked up their pace a bit. Two of them were about forty-five years old, both with drunken faces, empty fishy eyes, and insolent muzzles. They were dressed in the uniforms with snarling wolf jaws sewn onto the sleeves, the same uniform worn by almost all the gang's fighters. They bore all the hallmarks of a life of idleness and debauchery, and Max thought they might actually be ten years younger than they looked.
The third, by his appearance, was a bird of a higher rank, dressed in a slightly tattered, open sheepskin c
