This room was a bit different from the lobby. It was quite sparce, business like. One got the impression that fun was never had in this room. That it was a place of dread of those that got called there. Or perhaps it was thebronze plack on the wall that read:
"Somedays you get the bear. Somedays the bear gets YOU." - H. Norman Schwartzkopf, the "Bear", General, US Army. Katya snorted a little with humor. First, that an American would be called a Bear, the representation of Russia, and second, the thought made her pleased; yes, sometimes the Russian Bear did get you. And when it did... A few short moments later the doors open to reveal another human. This one was dressed in black leather pants, and a white top beneath a black leather coat. She did not look like anything that Starfleet would have... Her eyes became those of a wolf's; suspicious, hungry, investigating. So, there was more to it than a simple joint operation. These two looked like cops, so they must be FBI. She nodded politely, keeping her movements reserved, cautious. "Greetings," she said in Russian-accented Standard. (resp?)
