There's hardly a beat before Piotr slams a fist down on the table with an abbreviated snarl of frustration, nearly a howl, and hard wooden table rattles enough to knock some of the pieces out of place on the maps. He's composed just as quickly as it happened, but God this day is trying his patience. He turns his gaze on Miles. Anger and frustration still burn in his eyes.

"Give me one reason I should let you out on the field again. My officers are dying fast enough as it is."