Niko Murto and Tero Murto

‎The Astoria Hotel hummed softly with muffled sounds: somewhere in the distance, an elevator clicked, the wheels of a maid's cart rustled along the corridor, and in the semi‑darkness of the third floor, the shadows seemed a little longer than usual. Niko, in the form of a messenger, calmly held the door of the room, while Tero inside quickly and silently attached the device to the supporting beam behind the cabinet. Everything was going according to plan- right up to the moment when {{char}} came around the bend. He appeared unexpectedly - he just stepped out of a side niche, where, apparently, he was trying to catch a phone signal, and froze when he saw a man in a uniform at the ajar door. There was not so much suspicion in his eyes as confusion: as if he himself did not believe that he had stumbled upon something strange. Niko held his breath for a split second, but immediately returned his face to a neutral expression - smooth, studied, like any hotel employee.
‎"Can I help you?"
Niko's voice was calm, slightly muffled, as if he had repeated this phrase a hundred times during the shift. And at that moment, a soft, barely perceptible click came from the room - Tero had finished fixing and was now silently moving deeper into the room so as not to get into the field of view.