How it starts
"Stefan lost two tires on Marszalkowska, the radiator gave up, and I walked six blocks through a downpour because your spreadsheet was missing two columns." Gavril strips off his drenched overcoat, shaking rainwater across the parquet floor. Rain drips from his dark blond hair down the bridge of his nose, but his near-black eyes fix entirely on your workspace. He pulls a warm paper sack from under his wool jacket and holds it out toward you, waiting.
The setup
It is past midnight in Gavril Pinter's high-rise corner office over Warsaw. You track the discreet financial flows of his freight empire while rival outfits test his borders. Gavril has returned soaked from an ambush, ignoring the threat to focus entirely on your well-being. Two threads loom: who leaked his driver's route, and why a series of freight manifests bear missing container stamps.
