I woke up

With a splitting headache and Ginger shouting. The train had stopped and it was time to go. Ginger had this big smile on his face, standing at the open door with Mocz and the vodka hag.

"One last drink, before we go! Come on!" and he pointed at the party man. "You first comrade, come here and get a shining courage, come with your gun and drink up."

The party man hesitated, and looked around for someone, but we all looked down. Mocz took a step forward, and the man fumbled up out of his seat, gun shaking in his hand. He said something pleading in Svalti, but this just made Ginger snigger, and shake his head, "You come here, you drink, you be fine, " and he gestured at the Mensat who filled a glass from her back bottle. She held it out with averted eyes and a little mutter.

Fair play to the party man, he took the glass, raised it and said "Spless hin." Which Bêbe translated for me in a whisper - "fuck you."

Ginger sniggered again and wiped his hand across his mouth, "Come on comrade, you make sacrifice now, your family is grateful for now until next time." Party man downed the vodka and gave the glass back to vodka hag, straightened and walked out the door into the dark cold outside.

And one by one we went, each time Ginger inviting, smiling and showing us the door with an exaggerated wave. Whilst Mocz stood close, tall beside him, with finger on trigger.

We were last, and I was expecting him to say something as I took a brimming glass from the Mensat, but he didn't, and I think I was more insulted by that.

Fusel was behind me and refused the drink, and Ginger asked "You Albonians can't stomach smell of vodka?" And then he turned to Bêbe and said, "These foreign shitters, ay Sergeant? Perhaps you take me for aim piss later, and I show you real cock?"

I spat out vodka, and attempted to execute some crap punch-him-in-the-head-and-get-shot-by-Mocz idea, but Fusel was way ahead of me. Blocking my advance easily, he appeared to stagger into Ginger and, seemimgly to regain balance, threw an arm out leftwards (knocking Mocz shotgun to one side, tangling him in the strap) and scraped his boot down Ginger's shin straight down onto his instep.

Ginger's eyes went big and wet, and he bit his lip hard, "You did that purpose," he hissed. Fusel made a big deal about steadying himself and said, "I have no stomach for vodka, is all, comrade. I am sorry." Mocz was red in the face, trying to extricate his gun. Fusel turned and, with one quick movement, unhitched the harness' buckle. The gun fell free. "There you are boy. Keep harness on left shoulder, with strap under pocket, you be fine."