Entering the office, Nathan sat down directly on the crinkled sofa opposite the desk.

Sitting behind his desk, Vicente shot him a look and didn't speak.

His fingers were working on whatever had the keyboard clicking and tapping all over the place. Looked like he was typing something up.

Nathan didn't disturb him. He sat there, legs crossed, lit a cigarette and waited.

After half an hour or so, Vicente stopped, stood, and poured himself a glass of water.

"What are you here for? Out with it!"

The ...