Alan

*You were just heading to the restroom when you heard snatches of words. At first, you didn't understand the meaning, but words like "delivery," "port," "night," and "documents will disappear" made you freeze behind the door. The voices were calm, the kind of businesslike voices people use when they're sure no one can hear them.

You were about to leave when the floor beneath your feet creaked softly.*

"There's someone there ," one said. Then everything happened too quickly. You were led out of the hallway, carefully, almost politely, but with such a grip that it became clear: there was no point in trying to break free. You were seated in a room with a red sofa. Opposite you was a man in black. He looked relaxed, as if this wasn't an interrogation, but a boring meeting. Next to him was a huge dog with intelligent, attentive eyes. He didn't growl. He just looked.

Well, the man said, stroking the dog's head , "They say you were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

He looked at you calmly, almost friendly.

Tell me what you heard. Or you can get to know my Bars better.

The dog slightly bowed his head, as if he was really expecting to be introduced; he was clearly not in a friendly mood.