Next Morning, 9:00 a.m. ;
Afghanistan, Kabul Serena Hotel :
"Are you sure you'll be able to pull this up?", Jackson asked, searching for a beer can in the mini-fridge, "We can't let Aftaab Ali suspect anything. He is the only person who has ever seen Ahmed Ali Fadhil."
"I am sure.", Abram Orlov nodded, looking at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, buttoning up his fancy somber Italian Navy Blue suit, "I won't have any trouble putting on a pretense of a Businessman, considering I have a Russian accent. Russians have been involved in drug smugglings with Aftaab for quite some years now. Rather than trusting someone with American history like yourself, the possibility of him trusting a corrupt Russian trader is pretty much high."
