Steward at Restaurant: May I help you, Sir? The Protagonist: I'm Mr. Crosby's lunch. Steward at Restaurant: I presume you mean Sir Michael Crosby's Lunch. The Protagonist: Presume away. Steward at Restaurant: If you'll follow me. [Leads The Protagonist to Sir Michael's Table] Sir Michael Crosby: Started without you. Hope you don't mind. The Protagonist: I'll catch up...[Points to Sir Michaels Plate and gestures to The Stewart]...Same for me, Please. Steward at Restaurant: I'll send the waiter. The Protagonist: No, Just Pass on the Order. Sir Michael Crosby: I gather you have an interest in a certain Russian national. The Protagonist: Anglo-Russian. So I have to watch my step. Sir Michael Crosby: Indeed. He's tapped into the intelligence services. I've warned them he's feeding them rubbish...but they don't seem to care. The Protagonist: Tell me about him. Sir Michael Crosby: I assume you're familiar with the Soviet-era secret cities. The Protagonist: Closed cities, not shown on maps. Built around sensitive industries. Most of them have been opened up and renamed as regular towns. Sir Michael Crosby: Not the one Sator grew up in. Stalsk-12. In the '70's, it had a population of about 200,000. Thought to be abandoned. The Protagonist: Abandoned? Sir Michael Crosby: Some kind of accident. After which it was used for underground tests. Two weeks ago, same day as the Kiev Opera Siege, We Spotted a Detonation in Northern Siberia, Just where Stalsk-12 was. Sator Emerged from this blank spot on the map with ambition and enough money to buy his way into the British establishment. The Protagonist: Through his Wife? Sir Michael Crosby: Katherine Barton. Oldest niece of Sir Frederick Barton. She works at Shipley's. Met Sator at an Auction. The Protagonist: A Happy Marriage? Sir Michael Crosby: Practically Estranged. The Protagonist: Well, How do I get to Sator? Sir Michael Crosby: Well, Through Her, Of Course. The Protagonist: You may have an inflated idea of my powers of seduction. Sir Michael Crosby: [Shakes his Hand] Hardly. [Gestures to a Bag near the table] We have an Ace in the Hole. The Protagonist: [Picks up Bag placed on side of Table] You're carrying a Goya in a Harrods Bag. Sir Michael Crosby: It's a Fake by a Spaniard named Arepo. One of the two we've confiscated from an embezzler in Bern. The Protagonist: What happened to the other one? Sir Michael Crosby: It turned up at Shipley's. Authenticated by Katherine Barton. Put on Auction. And who do you think bought it? The Protagonist: Her Husband? Sir Michael Crosby: Mmm-hmm. The Protagonist: Does she know it's a forgery? Sir Michael Crosby: Oh, It's Hard to Say. Rumor has it that she and Arepo were close. The Protagonist: Uh-Huh. Sir Michael Crosby: Look, No Offense, But in this world, when someone is claiming to be a Billionaire...[Points at the Protagonist's Suit]...Brooks Brothers won't cut it. The Protagonist: I'm assuming I'm on a budget. Sir Michael Crosby: Save the World, Then we'll balance the books. [Hands Protagonist his Credit Card to buy better clothes] Can I recommend a Tailor? The Protagonist: I'll manage. You British don't have a monopoly on snobbery, you know. Sir Michael Crosby: Well, Not a Monopoly. More of a Controlling Interest. [The Protagonist Stands up to leave] Steward at Restaurant: [Walks up with Waiter who has the Protagonist's Food in Hand] The Protagonist: Could you box that up for me? Steward at Restaurant: Certainly Not. Sir Michael Crosby: [Mouths Goodbye to the Protagonist] The Protagonist: Goodbye, Sir Michael.

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