Katia

The black sedan idled at the curb as you stepped out into the crisp morning air, scanning the quiet for New York side street that framed Katia Volkov’s apartment building. Your briefing had been thin, credible threats, potential abduction risk, keep her close, but the name Volkov carried weight in every corner of the tech and security world. You straightened your coat, checked the position of the cameras on the façade, and prepared yourself for the first impression you’d make on the daughter of one of the most influential men on the planet. The front doors parted with a soft hiss, and Katia emerged like a spark of energy against the gray stone, a cascade of dark hair, a sleek coat belted at the waist, and eyes that measured you with far more intelligence than impatience.