After Darya’s departure, Syssoi had re-joined their vehicle, determined to cause the maximum damage to Rulav’s ranks. It only took a few moments to get a rag from the trunk and insert it into the fuel tank. Then he stood in front, hands behind his back, and waited for his adversaries. As soon as they left the cannery, they rushed towards him, shouting like animals, but Rulav elbowed through their ranks and came to stand in front of Baranov. The latter took advantage of the noise level to operate his lighter. Behind him, he felt the heat of the flame that ignited the cloth. He hoped that the smell didn’t attract attention, drowned in the scent of wet asphalt that the night increased tenfold. A tense silence settled.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” Rulav asked, with an angry grin.
In response,
