Evening, 19:30
Knock, knock, knock—
The office door was knocked.
Robbin bounced up from his chair, nervously reaching for his waist.
There was a Glock 19 there, which he always carried with him.
"Who?"
"It's me. Lemont."
Robbin breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to open the door.
Lemont stood outside the door, holding two cups of coffee.
"Bought from the cafe downstairs." He said, "Though it's Turkey coffee, the taste is alright."
He walked into the office, placed one cup of coffee on Robbin's desk, and sat down on the sofa with the other cup.
Robbin closed the door, returned to sit behind his desk, and looked at the cup of coffee without moving.
Lemont took a sip of coffee while looking at him.
"How many calls did you make?" he asked.
Robbin didn't answer.
Lemont didn't need him to answer.
