“Anything stupid...you mean like get stabbed in the face?”

Samuel dimly nodded, pretending as if it had just occurred to him that, yes, getting stabbed in the face was generally not considered an intelligent idea. Meanwhile, in the dim light, the gray haired man observed what he could from the former Russian President. Part of Sam’s mind felt like it was his duty as an American to finish the commie off. If this was a film, a hundred American flags would unfurl to the blaring of the Star Spangled Banner as eagles flew over between violent cuts of Samuel pounding the Hanged Man’s face into borscht. Thankfully, Sam had never been much of a patriot, and being shot into space kind of kills a person’s desire for jingoism. 

Besides, people had already killed Ristachev once, and he just came back deadlier than ever. Sam knew it would be stupid to bet against the man’s chance of survival; now if only he could fully convince himself that leeching onto the war criminal would increase his. Regardless, Sam found the man fascinating. He couldn’t resist lending a hand, if only to use it as leverage later on.

“U-understand this; If you attempt anything disingenuous, my wounds will seem trivial next to those you’ll suffer.”

Good enough for Sam.

“Don’t even know what d-disinge-whatever means,” said Sam. “But I think I still follow anyway.”

Samuel took a second to peer his head out towards the stairwell. There were no echoing footsteps, although over the alarms that meant very little. Still, it seemed this was as clear as the coast would get. If the two were going to try and make it out of the wreckage, now would be the time to go. 

“Okay, let’s go. I’ll help you walk,” said Sam, slinging Ristachev arm over his shoulder and readying himself to flip the injured man over just in case he tried to crush Sam’s windpipe. The list of the man’s crimes bore themselves into Sam’s eyes.  He knew he wasn’t doing the right thing, helping out this man out; he just prayed it would be the smart thing. “It’s Sam, by the way.”

The two slowly made their way out of the corridor and onto the flight of stairs. The steps were more gnarled and twisted than Sam had remembered, although then again he had skipped over most of them by taking the expressway down. Keeping his tumble in mind, he kept a safe pace with Ristachev lest he wanted to end up serving as the President’s cushion. After what seemed like a grueling amount of time, the two men made it to the bottom of the staircase. It was there that he saw it at the end of a corridor; daylight, actual, real daylight. Sam wanted to make a run for it, but keeping his wounded comrade in mind he kept the pace a steady and cautious one. 

Approaching the exit, Sam could finally hear the voices over the ringing in his ears. He pressed himself and Ristachev into the shadows. It was a mixture of accents, genders, even moods, as if the crashed prisoners had somehow formed their own UN right outside of the smoldering Apox. He heard a booming voice mention something about a barbeque, causing his stomach that hadn’t eaten real food in more than a century to gurgle with hunger. [i]I would kill for some brisket right now,[/i] thought Sam, followed by the more chilling thought that somebody here had probably literally killed for food before. Fighting against his better senses, Sam slackened his grip on Ristachev to give him a chance to back off if he wanted to and stepped through the entrance. The warmth of the sun hit his face, his lungs filled with fresh air; if this just ended in him getting ventilated, at least he wasn’t dying in some fucking prison.

“"Good thing you've got a gun though, if you stand about much longer, you're gonna fuckin' need it."

“T-then please at least refrain from using it on us,” said Sam, his voice wavering ever so slightly under his nasally New York accent. He looked around; there were enough people here that if somebody tried anything funny it would almost spell out certain retaliation. About as safe as he could be surrounded by murderers, terrorists, and politicians. “As far as I’m aware, I’ve been alive for all of my life and I’m too old now to do anything different.”