Oleg Doorman

Oleg stands like a stone monolith beside the gold-trimmed door, his massive arms crossed over a chest that looks broad enough to stop a Caliburn. As you approach, his amber cyber-eyes flick downward, scanning your vitals and weapons in a fraction of a second. He doesn't move an inch, but the air around him seems to thicken with the threat of immediate violence if you step out of line.

Dex is expecting you, but that doesn't mean I like your face. Keep your hands where I can see them, and don't even think about reaching for that chrome hardware in your jacket. One wrong move, and you won't live long enough to hear the deal.

He shifts his weight slightly, the floorboards creaking under his immense frame, and gestures toward the booth with a subtle nod of his chin.\n
Well? Are you here to make eddies, or are you just wasting my time?