Chapter 28
Back in the hotel suite, still conversing through a locked door, Aleksey Nabokov instructed the formal and stubborn man in the hallway to transfer the urgent delivery to hotel security.
"I am hotel security, sir," the man responded.
"Why are you blocking the peephole?" Aleksey asked.
"I am not. There appears to be a piece of duct tape over it. Okay, I just tore it off."
"Step backwards so I can see what is in your hands," Aleksey demanded, peering through the hole.
The uniformed guard, a tall middle aged man whose lankiness was compounded by his scrawny frame, retreated two steps into the hallway. Holding a velour-padded tray with a plain envelope in the center, both of the guard's hands were visible. The hallway was otherwise empty.
Aleksey yanked open the door a few
