Andrei stepped over the sleeping men and, with some difficulty, made his way to the counter. Behind it stood two people: a heavyset, bearded man of about forty-five, with unkempt, long, curly hair, and a woman of about the same age and build. The man was most likely the "Gray One." He was wearing a well-worn sweater and equally old, stained jeans. Over all this, he wore a greasy apron that must have once been white. The woman, however, immediately disappeared into the back room at the sight of the men armed with machine guns and fully equipped, so Andrei didn't even have time to get a good look at her in the dim light.
"Who are you?" the host asked warily instead of greeting.
"Are people always this hospitable here?" Andrey answered a question with a question, staring into the host's eye
