Miriam pumped her elbow backward, bringing her fist to her shoulder blade. "Aha, now that's the stuff!" she breathed.
Mat grinned, releasing a slow, low wolf-whistle. Gotta love a gal that can hold her liquor, he thought. Miriam grabbed another glass, about to down another shot, when Viktor lost his already thin patience.
"Miriam!" Viktor's voice was quiet but curt.
Miriam stilled. The glass of scotch paused, the glass rim right at the tip of her lips; a sly smile animated her face. Her left eyebrow quirked upwards, her eyes lowered from Viktor's stern features to the chilled golden liquid. Her gaze became shuttered.
"Faulty wiring: a leak gone unnoticed, water pooling over some exposed wires, a minor electrical explosion, a life lost. That's the story I've been pushing across the internet and it's been picked up by the AP." Miriam swirled the scotch confidently in her hand. The ice cubes chinked as they clashed against the glass surface, knocking against each other. "I've got someone on the report from the fire services, the police department, and the private ambulance service. They'll all concur with the initial on-site findings - an explosion due to faulty wiring." Miriam drained the glass. Her mouth pouted in a soft moue. "Ohh," she released a soft breath. "Bully for us." She placed the empty glass on the waiter. "The only casualty was one of ours. A national would have muddied the waters…the body bag is already in transit to New York." Miriam nodded to the assistant and made a small gesture with her index finger, waving it up and down, indicating she'd have another.
"Z'ank you, Miriam, for z'ee brief," Viktor said through clenched teeth.
Miriam sighed, familiar with her boss's cue for when it was time to make a quick exit. She grabbed a lime wedge from the serving tray, the bottle of scotch, and two glasses. She shoved the wedge in her mouth. The two glasses clinked against each other as she held them neatly together with her right index and middle fingers. Standing, she raised them along with her hand to salute her boss. Miriam then sauntered through the exit as Emily held the door open for her. The assistant departed as well, closing the door behind her. The three men were once again alone in the room.
Viktor turned to observe the menacing weather through the window once more, his back to the two assistants. Lincoln observed the Russian's stiff posture. Victor wore a dark silver pin-striped waistcoat with matching trousers. His lengthy raven hair was wound into a close-fitted Dutch braid that fell squarely down the middle of his back. The end of his braid was bound by a fat black rubber strap. The bit of loose hair at the end of his braid always captured the attention of onlookers for its striking shock of white-grey color.