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“Is that Vanilla? Can you smell it? I’m sure it’s Vanilla.” Said Dmitri.

Anton, the driver of the new Gran Torino hire car they had collected at Dulles Airport, said, “It’s not Vanilla, it’s…., oh what’s the English word? Almonds, that’s it, Almonds.”

The third man, Boris, stared wide-eyed at the last few clear candies in his palm. He frantically checked his pockets. Empty.

“erm…”. he began to say, before slumping forward into the footwell with a thud.

Dmitri shook his head, sighing.

The calibre of rookies they were sending him? Shocking! He’d have to talk to Moscow - again.

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