As far as the world knew, someone by name of
Petrenko had rented a hotel room for the night,
and it wasn't suspicious at all. The woman who
had shown up to ask after the room seemed to
be quite normal, and would be easily forgotten
by any workers who saw her. The room itself
was nothing special, higher end than Julia's
bank account could afford, but she could hardly
let her companion into a roach motel. Everything
was so normal that it bordered on droll, the red
wallpaper and clean white sheets somehow
bucolic.
She felt like she was going to be sick.
Acting average for the benefit of others was
wearing her down to the wire. Picking nervously
at her sleeves, she thought it best to get her
nerves out of the way before the guest of honor
put in an appearance. Everything that could not
be said through traceable text would come spilling
out in the near future.
Betrayal. That's what it was, but Julia kept telling
herself that she could sleep at night if it meant
getting Yuri back. That was her deal with Makarov.
Information for Yuri and whatever other VIP the
terrorist was holding. She hoped the man would
put in an appearance before she bolted