THE EYE OF THE STORM
The top floor of the holding building. Istanbul's lights lay below like a scattered circuit board. Mert sat behind his desk — not working, simply present, waiting with the patience of something that does not need to conserve energy. Kerem stood at the window, watching the street below where Arslan's convoy had parked at angles on the forecourt. "They are here," said Kerem. "I know." The Moment the Masks Fall The lift doors opened with a sound like a held breath being released. Arslan Soykan walked through without his guards — he had left them in the lobby, which was either confidence or theatre, and both amounted to the same thing. His jacket was not quite straight, his tie had been loosened. The window glass had left a shallow cut on the back of his right hand. He crossed the office
- Writer
