“Now, it’s his turn to be late. Come in, come in,” Luka waves. There’s something delirious about him, a joy thrumming through every line of his body. He didn’t insist on the password today, a lapse I didn’t call out. He’d stayed over last night. The alcohol on his breath held a sweet, lingering scent. “I’ve got it,” he says when I walk in. “All that’s left is the exchange. I need to figure out a safe way to arrange that.” He pauses. “That’s none of your business. I promised you’d never see Boris again.” Before I can say anything, his phone rings. “Anton.” He walks to the door and unlocks it. Anton pauses when he sees me—no nod, no smile, not even a flicker of acknowledgement of our discussion. So I play it cool too. Why not? Everything is as it should be. We are all together. “What do we have left to do?” he asks as he draws a cigarette from the back of his ear. “Nothing.” Luka chuckles. “Thanks to the two of you, everything’s set.
