Archibald's left eyebrow rose slightly, an expression of great surprise, but he did not object to Yazkov joining him. The man brought gin, after all, and by the clock tower across the square it was almost time to break his sober fast for the second time today. To buy time Archie carefully filled the two small glasses, then set one in front of each of the two of them. This certainly was an extraordinary sight. Archie hadn't attended Yazkov's funeral, but he had sent flowers. That seemed quite a waste of thirty pounds at this juncture.<br/><br/>In the espionage community of which Archie considered himself only an affiliate member, Yazkov was a big name indeed. In fact if it hadn't been for the two men's shared love of chess Archie doubted whether they ever would have crossed paths, much less developed a sort of unorthodox long distance friendship. Archie had never quite been sure whether he owed his life to the Russian or not; the affair in Helsinki had never been fully explained to him, and after seven years he had given up asking.<br/><br/>"I must say, Yazkov, that you're looking rather more... vibrant than I had been led to expect. His tone made clear he was not referring to the man's nearly electric shirt. Or at least only in part. "News is news, though, and I'd be happy to hear it from you directly. Is it only me, or are the foreign papers here always three days old? And, I suspect, censored to boot."<br/>