Re: Two Hours Later....
It was just shy of thirty minutes when Misha walked through the bar door. He was disheveled and scruffy, and not as recognizable to casual glances as the American Russian prince. His excellent, invisible security didn't enter with him.
He looked around in the dim room for Joey and found him still knocking back the drinks and looking sorry for himself. Misha hoped the bartender did as he asked and watered them down.
He sat down in the seat next to Joey and asked for a beer.
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