<strong>Archibald</strong><br/><br/>Yazkov shrugs.<br/><br/>"Does it matter who they are?  Our side, your side, their side...ah, now let me drink to the health of the tenth Viscount, if that is not too forward of me."  He refills his glass, drains it, pushes the bottle closer to Archibald.  "I truly hope your friend is having a similar morning in some out of the way country like this one, shocked and alarmed as he reads of your untimely death while drinking vodka.  But I do not know.  Now, to elaborate..."<br/><br/>He turns to appreciate the charms of the barely-legal waitress as she putters about, only turning back after the girl disappears back into the cafe.<br/><br/>"Where was I?  Oh, yes.  Here is what I personally believe, old foe.  When I was a handler, I saw that those in the field were easily led astray by what they were told by those above us.  But I also saw that so much of what those above us said made no sense in light of what was in the field.  There is a disconnect between the player and the pieces...which is no way to win a game of chess."<br/><br/>He takes a deep breath, catching Archibald's eye.<br/><br/>"What if the point of the game is not and never has been to win?  Your poet Milton wrote most eloquently of his god having an ineffable plan.  But there is little difference between an ineffable plan and an absent one."<br/><br/><br/><strong>Ysabel and Alexi</strong><br/><br/>When Ysabel opens the door, Mister Pink gives her a grin that would do Tim Curry proud and immediately hands over the six-pack.  It's something called Black Pharaoh Stout, and there's a reversed ankh on the label, with glass so dark brown it's nearly black.<br/><br/>"Here you go, then.  It isn't cold, but that's how it is around here, you know?  So you're both up and dressed.  Cool.  We have a meeting with Yazkov.  Got to give you the official reception and everything."<br/><br/>He steps inside, nods at Alexi.<br/><br/>"So where do I start?  Uhm.  Welcome to The Edge, first of all.  Second, god morning.  Third, sorry about your passports and stuff.  That's standard operating procedure, since whoever's jerking us around wants you to stay put.  No, I don't know who did this to us.  Yes, I want to take a power drill to their molars, too.  Yazkov says we'll have to get in line."<br/><br/>(Alexi recognizes that name--Vasiliy Avrustovich Yazkov used to be one of the best handlers in the business, until he died in a hunting accident near his family dacha in the Urals about five, six years ago.  They still tell stories about his great skill and subtlety in dealing with double and triple agents, some of which are exaggerations.)