07-23-2014, 06:03 PM
The phone rang. Armande picked it up. The Russian voice on the other end was rough from decades of smoking.
"You said to let you know if there were people poking around mythologies that I did not recognize."
Armande hummed a deep, throaty response. "Indeed. I did. Thank you, Borloff."
They disconnected and Armande swiveled in his seat to face a glass work panel. A few swipes and he transferred several hundred dollars to an intermediary account that Borloff could access. It was a thank-you, but more importantly, it was fulfilling a promise Armande vowed to uphold. I will make it worth your while, Borloff, he had told him.
A very short time later, Armande pushed open the front door. A little bell dinged as he stepped over the threshold. He was in a long, elegant wool coat that flared around his knees. Above a snugly buttoned collar, his studious expression gazed about the interior. He smoothed the well-trimmed beard with his thumb and forefinger, and bright blue eyes shifted left and right. He was rarely without a weapon of some kind, but he did not parade around the affluent Nikolskaya street looking ridiculous. He was a gentleman and a scholar.
Two patrons, one middle-aged and the other finely-aged, seemed to be speaking with the Repository's worker. The man was Borloff's brother and Armande guessed he was ignorant of the deal that brought the Regus of the Atharim here today. Of course, not even Borloff knew that much. Only that a generous and wealthy man was interested in anyone who were themselves overly interested in ouroboros lore.
He sized up all three individuals and patiently unbuttoned the coat. Climbing into a warm bookshop after leaving the wet winter streets, the air was stifling.
The shopkeeper gestured that he would tend to the other two men before giving the newcomer his assistance. "Hurry not, brother. I am only browsing."
"You said to let you know if there were people poking around mythologies that I did not recognize."
Armande hummed a deep, throaty response. "Indeed. I did. Thank you, Borloff."
They disconnected and Armande swiveled in his seat to face a glass work panel. A few swipes and he transferred several hundred dollars to an intermediary account that Borloff could access. It was a thank-you, but more importantly, it was fulfilling a promise Armande vowed to uphold. I will make it worth your while, Borloff, he had told him.
A very short time later, Armande pushed open the front door. A little bell dinged as he stepped over the threshold. He was in a long, elegant wool coat that flared around his knees. Above a snugly buttoned collar, his studious expression gazed about the interior. He smoothed the well-trimmed beard with his thumb and forefinger, and bright blue eyes shifted left and right. He was rarely without a weapon of some kind, but he did not parade around the affluent Nikolskaya street looking ridiculous. He was a gentleman and a scholar.
Two patrons, one middle-aged and the other finely-aged, seemed to be speaking with the Repository's worker. The man was Borloff's brother and Armande guessed he was ignorant of the deal that brought the Regus of the Atharim here today. Of course, not even Borloff knew that much. Only that a generous and wealthy man was interested in anyone who were themselves overly interested in ouroboros lore.
He sized up all three individuals and patiently unbuttoned the coat. Climbing into a warm bookshop after leaving the wet winter streets, the air was stifling.
The shopkeeper gestured that he would tend to the other two men before giving the newcomer his assistance. "Hurry not, brother. I am only browsing."