FES (Next)

The FES conference room smelled of cold coffee and heavy tension. The businessman's disappearance investigation was in its third day, but instead of answers, investigators were finding only dead ends. The situation was so critical that Galina Nikolaevna called everyone together. Kruglov frowned darkly by the window. Maisky, Lisitsyn, Kotov, Danilov, Granin, Berezina, and Vlasova, exhausted after hours of ambushes, sat at the table. The technical and laboratory departments were also frozen: Tikhonov clicked his pen incessantly, Kholodov wiped his glasses, Lomov clutched his inhaler in his pocket. Amelina and Belaya leafed through ballistic reports, Subbotin and Semenchuk whispered quietly in the corner. Even the medical unit—Antonova, Selivanov, and Professor Romashin—left their offices. But the collective mind was spinning. Rogozina glanced at the tired team.

"Colleagues, we've checked billing records, invoices, ballistics, and biological traces. But we're still stuck. Our eyes are jaded. We need a completely fresh perspective, unconstrained by the rules." Kruglov was surprised:

• Galya, do you want to involve someone from the ministry?

"No, Nikolai Petrovich. An hour ago, I contacted the university rector and asked them to send us their best student. We need an intern. Someone with a clear analytical mind who can look at the diagrams without any preconceived notions." Tikhonov snorted.

— Intern? How can a student help us?

“He’ll bring coffee, Vanya,” Maisky chuckled.

"Stop being skeptical," Rogozina snapped. "The man should be arriving any minute..."

At that moment, a distinct, polite knock on the door rang out in the quiet of the conference room. All twenty people turned their heads simultaneously. The door slowly opened, and that same "fresh eye" appeared on the threshold.