"Out," Matt repeated, pushing the young kid toward the door. Garcia didn't need to be told twice. He fled like the building was on fire."How dare you ...ome in here while I'm in a private meeting," Crow said."Why don't you pull up your pants, Crow?" Matt told him. "I don't think any of us really wanna look at your shit."Crow frowned and then reached down and grabbed his pants. He stood and pulled them up, re-covering his equipment."You're not even Garcia's A&R guy, are you?" Matt asked. "What do. "He looked at her quizzically, before deciding she wasn't joking. "Very well, I shall." He sat down in the room's only chair, a medium-sized one, upholstered in mock leather. He looked a little uncomfortable in it, his bulk and the thickness of his armour not suiting its relatively narrow confines. He wriggled about a bit, frowning at the chair, as if it was somehow to blame. He did a lot of frowning, she had noticed.He got up again. "Perhaps I do not need the armour," he announced, "and it. (I had hired an ex-NSA employee to dig the relevant information out of Kremlin archives soon after the collapse of the Soviet Union.) Anyhow, data osmosed, or memory leaked, and I began remembering things. Things Amelia probably didn't intend for me ever to know.In the first place, her name was not Amelia Gilbert. She was Amalya Trepper, and she worked for the KGB. Espionage and intrigue were deeply embedded in her family history. Her uncle was Leopold Trepper, a shadowy and mysterious figure.. When I hold her it makes me feel all safe and warm. She wakes up moments after and turns around to look at me. Even with a bed head she looks fantastic. I kiss her on the cheek and we cuddle for a few minutes before we get ready for the day. About twenty minutes later, we're ready. I tell her how gorgeous she is and she tells me that she isn't. I continue to tell her that she is until she finally agrees with me. I hear a knock on the door and I begin to wonder who it could be. I go into the.