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There hadn't been time for Torri to do more than arrange for the majority of her things to be shipped to Moscow. She didn't own much in the way of personal effects, but it was more than fit in one rucksack, therefore she was lightly laden trekking through the bustling airport walkways. She was of slim build, but she was hardly the imagery of petite delicacy. Anyone to catch her stern eye stepped out of her brisk pace, and a few heads turned to watch as she passed them by, only to later realize the CCD patch on her bag.

Although just now sunset, weary lines rimmed her eyes. She felt unwashed and smothered in the stink of travel. She was hardly a hypochondriac but she was severely looking forward to a shower, fresh hair, and a bloody bed. The last few days consisted of half a night in some DPS office for shipment orders, details, arrangements, paperwork, and administrative shit. Then followed by another day scrambling to arrange for others to take over the sensitive work she was doing at the Berlin Institute for Medical and Virtual Genetics, else the last year and a half of her life would have been completely meaningless. Finally a day of travel. She liked point A and point B; but she hated taking the line in between.

Outside, she hailed a cab and made arrangements to be dropped at a hotel downtown, whatever was within short distance of the Kremlin; yes, quick metro ride would suffice; no, nothing too expensive - she was an army physician, not a bloody billionaire after all. In the meantime, orders were orders, and she had yet to know where she was to be living, which meant: hotel. She could hardly walk into the Kremlin a pale, grumpy and tired version of herself. Besides, she didn't have to report in until 0530. Four or five hours of sleep should be enough. Hopefully. It's not like there was much time to prepare for this sort of thing.
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