Once off the elevator, Taylor followed Andre through a twisting series of halls until they reached an unlabeled door, which his friend promptly opened... Taylor couldn’t hold back the small smile that creased his lips. The Soviet Union may have gone, but the weird paranoia that kept doors anonymous remained.Inside, three men stood in a straightforward meeting room, with a single long table surrounded by chairs. There were no screens, no white boards, and no windows. One wore the same military. And they would pass Tracey and Buttercup with eyes which were evaluating them and comparing them with other women they’d passed, to decide whether they wanted to fuck them. Or they might be cruising slowly past in their cars, most of which were of a far poorer quality than Tracey knew from back home, the windows wound down, as the occupants decided whether they should or not. But it was for Tracey and Buttercup to make the advances most of the time: a situation that at first Buttercup resented. More

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