|"The snow lays thick in the urals," whispered the guy in the dirty mac.
"Until the birds fly over the sun." The waiter placed a plate of salt fish on the table. "Who sent you?"
"Piotr the priest." The mac opened to reveal a body belt. "Have you got what he wants?"
"Have you the money?"
"Twenty thousand. Let me see it, then I pay." The waiter entered the restaurant. The salt fish was devoured hungrily. The empty plate was cleared by another waiter.
"Here." A carrier was handed over. Inside was the item Piotr had requested. "Money?"
"Here." A brown envelope came from the body belt. "Twenty thousand as agreed."
"I hope Piotr will enjoy his caviar."
"Shhhh. They'll all want some."