Trafika Europe 2 - Polish Nocturne

Corbusier armchairs, a glass table with an orchid arrangement on it. The windows opening onto a park were of course just artful photorealistic paintings. My sleet- drenched parka and worn boots did not fit the setting at all. “Please sit down.” The man used the formal form of address, rarely used in Finland. “May I bring you coffee or tea?” “Neither, thank you.” I steered clear of unnecessary stimulants while working. They just clouded my focus. The man pulled a file from his briefcase and flipped through the papers inside it. His face was pasty and pale, his black hair oiled into place. His eyebrows had been plucked into narrow streaks. His voice was low and expressionless. “Hilja Ilveskero, age twenty-eight. Graduated from the Queens Security Academy in New York with excellent marks three years ago. Employed privately by Finnish individuals after graduation, but currently unemployed. Why?” “My former employer moved to a company in Tokyo that provides security services to its key employees. You’ll find his letter of recommendation among my papers.”

The man smiled. “Of course, I have checked your background. In today’s world one cannot be too cautious.”

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