“Das vidanya,” he said shaking Michaels hand firmly.
With that, the hulking Colonel Vargev left Michael to his work in the coffee shop, and framed by the bright Swiss sunlight continued walking up the street.
Michael stared after him; through all the pain, struggle, strife and torment, they had got through it somehow. And Michael felt a bond there, as though brothers in arms, and he didn’t think it would be the last time that he would see the enigmatic Colonel Vargev.
“Das vidanya, old friend.” Michael whispered quietly.