Unwelcome revelation

Sometime later, in the dim cold and orange glow, we were hiding in a wide lead-lined alcove set off the floor. We'd been running until we couldn't hear the metallic scraping of the rats behind us, then just stumbling on. We'd stopped for a minute, too exhausted to continue, when Beraubtes pointed to the dark hole half a man's height up the wall. So we climbed in. It went back a few yards, housing a mass of complicated pipes and dials in the back. There was enough room for us to get right in and hide.

Beraubtes crawled as far under the machinery as she could, and curled up shivering. Ginger sat down with a little huff, fished his little book out, and started flicking through the pages. I squatted. Bêbe slumped against the wall.

Bêbe was the first to speak; she said quietly, not looking at anyone, like she was talking to herself, "Why did you kill the Albonian, sir?"

Ginger looked straight at me, "Because the lowland coward asked me to."

That was enough, that was just about enough for me. So I hit him in the mouth as hard as I could, and as his head went back and I saw the surprise on his face ( and was gratified by that), I hit him again. Then I was on top of him trying to break his skull by repeatedly slamming his head against the concrete floor, hoping each time to hear that hollow crunch that would tell me that I'd killed him (and the orange glow got brighter).

Then everything went white from one side, and with a ringing deafness.

I came to with Bêbe standing over me, the gun she'd just hit me with hanging in her hand, "You can't kill the Commissar, he is the only one who knows the way out."

Ginger was sitting up, rubbing his head, blood trickling from his mouth and one ear, "You feel better for that, shitting dickless foreigner?" The little fuck was smiling. "I have hard head, and you are flower-waving piss-streak."