Friends in High Places

[Sofia Vasilieva]

He wasn’t difficult to spot. At this hour the corridors were all but empty aside from night staff, but it was the full face mask that set him out. Sofia watched him approach with interest. A man accompanied at his side who she presumed and dismissed as security. Pavel stood with a nod of greeting.

“Thank you for coming,” Sofia said. Iáomai's accent was thick, and she was surprised to realise he was American. Curious, given they remained outside the Custody. At least for now. He nodded deeply. Despite it she offered her hand without a beat, though glanced at the agent to see if he would have a problem with it. “Sofia Vasilieva. And my brother, Pavel.”

Sofia smiled, whether the hand was accepted or not. The appointment had not come without considerable cost, but she was gracious in her greeting; both confident, and curious. “Our Maksim is dear to us. We would do anything for him,” she said. “I admit to being curious about you, but it is late, and my brother is surely in pain. I imagine you are not supposed to answer questions. May I at least watch you work?”

As she spoke, she led the way into the room regardless. It was dark, the only light that which spilled in with them. Of Maksim’s injuries she saw no need to explain; Iáomai would see that well enough for himself.