7 The elevator arrived with a ding!
The doors opened. Inside, a giggling pair of women in figure-hugging outfits. With them, a youthful man, clean shaven, open-necked floral pattern shirt revealing a manscaped, sculpted chest. Easy to guess they were high-end company for a guest of the hotel. The trio inside the elevator regarded the trio waiting for the elevator: Aslan Terzi flanked by the grim Russians, all sombre and stony-faced.
The giggling stopped. The occupants organised themselves to make place for the Russians and Terzi. The man on Terzi’s right spoke in Russian. The man inside the elevator nodded, then pushed a button, closing the doors.
The next elevator arrived; it was empty.
“Go!” Terzi was ordered bluntly. One Russian preceded him, the other bringing up the rear.
Not we
