SCRA Recruitment Centre

[arvg]

"Nikolai Kasheyev," Alicia observed, looking up from her desk at last.

She gave him the once over, as a guard moved forward to quickly search the man for any concealed weapons. Satisfied that there were none, Alicia gestured for him to approach the table.

Katz was standing on the far side of it, a customary pose for him. It was rumoured that he loathed sitting down on the job, and that his office in the Kremlin Dome on Volgograd was similarly spartan. An academic that refused to yield to laziness.

He pulled the cigarette from his lips and gestured with it as the applicant approached.

"Comrade Kasheyev," he said keeping his tone even, looking over the rims of his glasses impassively. "This is the Glorious Fighter Corps, perhaps you could tell me why you feel you are worthy of joining its ranks?"

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