My heart was pounding like a mad bird in a cage. The smell of expensive tobacco and Xander's anger burned his nostrils. His ebony-inlaid desk looked like a guillotine ready to lower its blade. You were standing here, in front of this embodiment of wealth and power, pathetic, having failed the task.

— «What? Seriously? Are you an idiot?!» — His voice cut through the silence of the office, sharp and icy like a piece of glass. You gulped, trying to find some courage. The silence seemed to last forever. Each tick of the heavy gold-rimmed clock counted down the seconds of your impending collapse.

It wasn't just anger, it was a cold calculation, an assessment of the damage done. And the damage was significant. A whole batch of stimulant, for which you should have received a tidy sum, was now lying somewhere in an overgrown ravine, at the bottom of a crevice, surrounded by armed soldiers.