Scan barcode
A review by leahkarge
Special Forces - Mercenaries Part I by Aleksandr Voinov, Vashtan, Marquesate
5.0
Review for Special Forces as a whole can be found here.
Favorite Quotes:
Dan watched Vadim, determined to take in every last view of that body, but he didn’t try to touch, knowing it would break his resolve and whatever else he’d managed to build up around him. Was this what millions of women had felt like, in all those uncountable wars, when their lovers and husbands left for the front?
(5, Dan)
He had worked too long towards this one slim chance, had dared to imagine that other life, and seeing it now vanish into nothing, there was no replacement. He’d thrown away the life he’d had, trusting on Dan to pull him in, secure and anchor him. The rope was severed, and he was hurtling into the void. Disoriented, aching in too many places.
(23, Vadim)
“Surely one’s sexuality is not a matter of ‘planning’.”
(148, Dr. Williams)
Despite the fact he swayed on his feet, he forced himself to clean up what he could and give himself at least a proper shave, which took forever, and reminded him suddenly of Dan. In his half-apathetic state, he could imagine Dan standing behind him, steadying the blade, maybe mocking him for his weakness, in a tender way. Vadim stared into the mirror; he could almost see Dan, almost feel that body’s heat close, those strong fingers on his wrist. His vision blurred, and he put the razor down, setting both hands onto the basin, fingers splayed to support him, and hung his head.
Dan. Dan was the reason for all this, but Vadim wasn’t quite sure now how or why. Dan deserved the truth. He had repeated that in his mind, over and over and over again. Dan deserved the truth.
(178, Vadim)
That’s what he got for trying to escape his destiny: a fucking helicopter crash and a broken wrist. Why couldn’t he just accept the fact they were fucked to hell and back, and could never be apart. Only through death, and even that had failed, hadn’t it?
(331, Dan)
He didn’t even claim he understood the world anymore—nor ever had.
(331, Dan)
Dan took a deep breath, swollen fingers of his left hand fluttering on the fabric of his camo trousers. “Over the years, you had become my home, my sanity, perhaps even my life.” He lowered his head, almost immediately jerked it back up. “While you were in prison I could at least fight for your life, all the time keeping up hope. Until it was too late.” Dan shook his head once, violently, as if trying to get rid of a memory. “It was Maggie who had the bottle to tell me about your sentence, the death sentence. And yet, even then, there was still something to do. I had to tell you I was alive, going on living, like I had promised. I needed you to know I hadn’t given up on you.” Dan huffed dryly. “Useless, hopeless, but fuck, I had to try and tell you I love you, even if all that remained in the end was nothing but death.” He scrunched his eyes shut. No matter how much more whisky he’d drink, he’d never forget the smell and sight and sound of the room where he had waited for Vadim’s execution. The tick-tock of the clock, every second moving closer to finality. And then, silence. Inside. Hurt and pain and grief so large and overpowering he’d thought he would drown.
(350, Dan)
Again he wished he could just have died for Dan somewhere on the way here. It would have saved him so much pain, both of them, and Dan would have never seen just how weak and pathetic he was. Blood and guts. Just flesh. Just a creature scrambling around on earth with no higher purpose, no destiny, stomped on by blind chance. He lowered his head, vodka blunting his thoughts, and luring them out of the darkness.
(351, Vadim)
“Russkie, if I said I didn’t love you, I’d be lying, as much as if I said I didn’t want you. I’m not a liar, so I won’t tell you that I don't want you, and I don’t love you, but...” Dan drew in another breath. “But it’s not that easy anymore. You’ve done so much shit. I can’t ignore it.”
(352, Dan)
Dan had been the water and the food and the boots to get him through.
(354, Vadim)
“Some men want to win a gold medal, some want a family, some want to be rich, some want to be free, some want to kill other men, and some men want to do the right thing. Me, I only want you.”
(354, Vadim)
Dan was death and life, water and emotion. Battling that emotion, mourning, sadness. Love could hurt like a motherfucker, he thought, because that was it, just human, unlikely, impossible, a kind of love that defeated him at every corner, every turn. Relief. Not giving up.
(355, Vadim)
Vadim shook his head, already retreating towards the open door. "Pretty is different,” he murmured. “Pretty has no scars. You are...” Jaw muscles tensed again. “Like the morning sky in Afghanistan. Not 'pretty'. Word’s ‘breathtaking’.” In more senses than one. Choking, strangling, intense pain that forbid breathing.
(392, Vadim)
“Damn, how the fuck am I going to make you understand?” Pleading, almost. “You are everything, don’t you get it? You are the Afghan mountains, the damned red dust, the endless sky. You were my home, and more often than not, also my reason. You are unlike all the others, unlike anyone I shag, because when I touch you, it’s not just a touch, it’s eleven years of heaven and hell.”
(400, Dan)
“Oh, fuck.” Dan breathed out, tilting his head just a little bit, just that perfect angle. This was Vadim. No Frenchman, no Yank, but his Russian. Eleven years, more pain—and more pleasure—than should fit into a lifetime. His lips touched the other’s, and it was like every feeling under the sun had gathered to form a supernova. The touch like searing agony, stabbing through his mind and heart.
(420, Dan)
Dan saw that smile; a smile he’d never seen before. Something shifted deep inside. Opened, melted, and gave way, like a knot unravelling, and a pain simply dissipating. He could feel tears creeping into his eyes, and he didn’t even care.
“Aye.” He smiled back, crookedly. “You want to marry me, Vadim Petrovich Krasnorada, and make me an honourable man?”
Vadim’s smile turned into a grin. Don’t be fucking stupid was not the answer, suddenly. “You are an honourable man already,” he murmured against Dan’s lips. “Honourable, and loyal, and courageous. But you’re not pregnant, so no reason to marry.” Keeping on the safe side. “Even if I could.”
“Damn.” Dan tightened his hold and rolled both of them onto their sides, lying on his good side. “And there goes my plan to snatch a big fish to provide for me, so that I can retire.” He grinned, and even that was tender. The urge to cry was passing, but emotions remained on the surface, raw and bare, despite the joking.
(425, Dan & Vadim)
Everything was different all of a sudden. Not just a body, no mate nor friend, no casual encounter, nothing and no one like this. This familiarity, this knowing. This owning.
(436, Dan)
You are worth everything, Dan thought, but couldn’t say it. Felt his throat suddenly constricted. Worth that ex-wife of yours, worth a smashed room, worth suicide missions, worth hatred and hell and worth all the money and more. Said none of it, instead moved even closer, handed the tube to Vadim, his own palm open.
(436, Dan)
“I think all superpowers are shit. All wars are crap, and there are no winners. Just old battle horses like you and I, who devoted their life to the fighting.” Dan quirked an altogether weary grin. “We are all losers, Vadim, but in our small worlds, we can be winners. You and I, we are winners. Of the hardiest kind.”
(470, Dan)
“Love can be like a commanding officer...it’s unfair, random, cruel, but it gets you through the war, somehow.” Vadim smiled again. “I read some goddesses are both goddesses of love and war. I think that’s about right.” He gave a short laugh and shook his head.
(503, Vadim)
Favorite Quotes:
Dan watched Vadim, determined to take in every last view of that body, but he didn’t try to touch, knowing it would break his resolve and whatever else he’d managed to build up around him. Was this what millions of women had felt like, in all those uncountable wars, when their lovers and husbands left for the front?
(5, Dan)
He had worked too long towards this one slim chance, had dared to imagine that other life, and seeing it now vanish into nothing, there was no replacement. He’d thrown away the life he’d had, trusting on Dan to pull him in, secure and anchor him. The rope was severed, and he was hurtling into the void. Disoriented, aching in too many places.
(23, Vadim)
“Surely one’s sexuality is not a matter of ‘planning’.”
(148, Dr. Williams)
Despite the fact he swayed on his feet, he forced himself to clean up what he could and give himself at least a proper shave, which took forever, and reminded him suddenly of Dan. In his half-apathetic state, he could imagine Dan standing behind him, steadying the blade, maybe mocking him for his weakness, in a tender way. Vadim stared into the mirror; he could almost see Dan, almost feel that body’s heat close, those strong fingers on his wrist. His vision blurred, and he put the razor down, setting both hands onto the basin, fingers splayed to support him, and hung his head.
Dan. Dan was the reason for all this, but Vadim wasn’t quite sure now how or why. Dan deserved the truth. He had repeated that in his mind, over and over and over again. Dan deserved the truth.
(178, Vadim)
That’s what he got for trying to escape his destiny: a fucking helicopter crash and a broken wrist. Why couldn’t he just accept the fact they were fucked to hell and back, and could never be apart. Only through death, and even that had failed, hadn’t it?
(331, Dan)
He didn’t even claim he understood the world anymore—nor ever had.
(331, Dan)
Dan took a deep breath, swollen fingers of his left hand fluttering on the fabric of his camo trousers. “Over the years, you had become my home, my sanity, perhaps even my life.” He lowered his head, almost immediately jerked it back up. “While you were in prison I could at least fight for your life, all the time keeping up hope. Until it was too late.” Dan shook his head once, violently, as if trying to get rid of a memory. “It was Maggie who had the bottle to tell me about your sentence, the death sentence. And yet, even then, there was still something to do. I had to tell you I was alive, going on living, like I had promised. I needed you to know I hadn’t given up on you.” Dan huffed dryly. “Useless, hopeless, but fuck, I had to try and tell you I love you, even if all that remained in the end was nothing but death.” He scrunched his eyes shut. No matter how much more whisky he’d drink, he’d never forget the smell and sight and sound of the room where he had waited for Vadim’s execution. The tick-tock of the clock, every second moving closer to finality. And then, silence. Inside. Hurt and pain and grief so large and overpowering he’d thought he would drown.
(350, Dan)
Again he wished he could just have died for Dan somewhere on the way here. It would have saved him so much pain, both of them, and Dan would have never seen just how weak and pathetic he was. Blood and guts. Just flesh. Just a creature scrambling around on earth with no higher purpose, no destiny, stomped on by blind chance. He lowered his head, vodka blunting his thoughts, and luring them out of the darkness.
(351, Vadim)
“Russkie, if I said I didn’t love you, I’d be lying, as much as if I said I didn’t want you. I’m not a liar, so I won’t tell you that I don't want you, and I don’t love you, but...” Dan drew in another breath. “But it’s not that easy anymore. You’ve done so much shit. I can’t ignore it.”
(352, Dan)
Dan had been the water and the food and the boots to get him through.
(354, Vadim)
“Some men want to win a gold medal, some want a family, some want to be rich, some want to be free, some want to kill other men, and some men want to do the right thing. Me, I only want you.”
(354, Vadim)
Dan was death and life, water and emotion. Battling that emotion, mourning, sadness. Love could hurt like a motherfucker, he thought, because that was it, just human, unlikely, impossible, a kind of love that defeated him at every corner, every turn. Relief. Not giving up.
(355, Vadim)
Vadim shook his head, already retreating towards the open door. "Pretty is different,” he murmured. “Pretty has no scars. You are...” Jaw muscles tensed again. “Like the morning sky in Afghanistan. Not 'pretty'. Word’s ‘breathtaking’.” In more senses than one. Choking, strangling, intense pain that forbid breathing.
(392, Vadim)
“Damn, how the fuck am I going to make you understand?” Pleading, almost. “You are everything, don’t you get it? You are the Afghan mountains, the damned red dust, the endless sky. You were my home, and more often than not, also my reason. You are unlike all the others, unlike anyone I shag, because when I touch you, it’s not just a touch, it’s eleven years of heaven and hell.”
(400, Dan)
“Oh, fuck.” Dan breathed out, tilting his head just a little bit, just that perfect angle. This was Vadim. No Frenchman, no Yank, but his Russian. Eleven years, more pain—and more pleasure—than should fit into a lifetime. His lips touched the other’s, and it was like every feeling under the sun had gathered to form a supernova. The touch like searing agony, stabbing through his mind and heart.
(420, Dan)
Dan saw that smile; a smile he’d never seen before. Something shifted deep inside. Opened, melted, and gave way, like a knot unravelling, and a pain simply dissipating. He could feel tears creeping into his eyes, and he didn’t even care.
“Aye.” He smiled back, crookedly. “You want to marry me, Vadim Petrovich Krasnorada, and make me an honourable man?”
Vadim’s smile turned into a grin. Don’t be fucking stupid was not the answer, suddenly. “You are an honourable man already,” he murmured against Dan’s lips. “Honourable, and loyal, and courageous. But you’re not pregnant, so no reason to marry.” Keeping on the safe side. “Even if I could.”
“Damn.” Dan tightened his hold and rolled both of them onto their sides, lying on his good side. “And there goes my plan to snatch a big fish to provide for me, so that I can retire.” He grinned, and even that was tender. The urge to cry was passing, but emotions remained on the surface, raw and bare, despite the joking.
(425, Dan & Vadim)
Everything was different all of a sudden. Not just a body, no mate nor friend, no casual encounter, nothing and no one like this. This familiarity, this knowing. This owning.
(436, Dan)
You are worth everything, Dan thought, but couldn’t say it. Felt his throat suddenly constricted. Worth that ex-wife of yours, worth a smashed room, worth suicide missions, worth hatred and hell and worth all the money and more. Said none of it, instead moved even closer, handed the tube to Vadim, his own palm open.
(436, Dan)
“I think all superpowers are shit. All wars are crap, and there are no winners. Just old battle horses like you and I, who devoted their life to the fighting.” Dan quirked an altogether weary grin. “We are all losers, Vadim, but in our small worlds, we can be winners. You and I, we are winners. Of the hardiest kind.”
(470, Dan)
“Love can be like a commanding officer...it’s unfair, random, cruel, but it gets you through the war, somehow.” Vadim smiled again. “I read some goddesses are both goddesses of love and war. I think that’s about right.” He gave a short laugh and shook his head.
(503, Vadim)