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30. Undercover, part one

The bar was incredibly crowded.

Disguised appropriately, doing everything possible to avoid unwanted attention, Maxmilian sipped on a glass of whiskey (which tasted terrible, but he couldn't complain) next to a supposed stranger.

The men and women entering the bar, mostly tattooed and grim-faced, barely looked each other in the eye. Silently, they would only request their daily dose of whatever drink they preferred, then glance around, observing everyone who came and went.

A man nearly tripped over Maxmilian's foot, but wisely he stepped back against the wall to avoid a collision with the oblivious man. The stranger smiled.

"Well, you seem fine," he murmured.

"Do I? I suppose it's a habit."

The stranger chuckled.

"Apparently, it runs in the family."

That could mean anything. Max raised an eyebrow.

"So, when will I see him? We've been here for almost two hours."

"Keep your impatience to yourself. We didn't bring you here for no reason."

Resigned, all the businessman did was audibly sig
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