We start our visit, talking with Ted on the com system. Even though he left our unit a few years ago, he still remembers our codes.
By the time we end our tour and get back to our post, the dining room is starting to fill up. Straight as arrows, we stand on either side of the doors and observe the guests. If we’re to go with the languages spoken and the styles of clothing, Dmitri has friends from all over the world. Most of the guests are of the male persuasion, and the few who came with someone are twice the age of their arm candy.
Those girls have nothing on Élodie. If she stands out, it will be in a good way. She’s perfect.
Given what the man with the tablet said, it makes sense it’s mainly men attending, if the purpose of the evening is to bid for services from young ladies.
Several minutes later, the absolute misogyny of the party is confirmed. The staff working the room are all male. Male and efficient.
Vodka is poured as if it was going out of style, and after half an hour, the noise level doubles. Those who organize the party clearly understand that it’s harder to be stingy after some serious drinking. But then again, given the age of these men, I’m afraid that drinking will make it difficult for them to rise to the occasion. Maybe that’s good news for the ladies…unless, of course, that frustration is taken out on them.
A noise in my earpiece brings me back to the present.
It’s the agreed-upon code.
Élodie is about to arrive.
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