Volkov looks visibly pained as Moreau-Dumont blurts out information about FEAR. "Oh no, no, Monsieur, I am nothing more than a legitmate businessman, certainly not one to get involved in such activities. Even if I were the sort that might, I could be gravely concerned about the lack of operational security that organization had demonstrated. Now, I could provide you with the names of some associates of mine that might know someone who could help, but . . . ."
The phone on Volkov's desk rings. He frowns. "A moment, Monsieur." Volkov picks up the phone and listens for a moment, then mutters something back in angry Russian. Still muttering, he unbuttons his suit coat, revealing a nasty-looking snub-nosed pistol. "Allow me to be blunt, Monsieur - there is the stench of death around you. I will be kind, and let you leave by the back door, if you'd like."
- Voshkod as demi-mod
The phone on Volkov's desk rings. He frowns. "A moment, Monsieur." Volkov picks up the phone and listens for a moment, then mutters something back in angry Russian. Still muttering, he unbuttons his suit coat, revealing a nasty-looking snub-nosed pistol. "Allow me to be blunt, Monsieur - there is the stench of death around you. I will be kind, and let you leave by the back door, if you'd like."
- Voshkod as demi-mod