From the journal of Grayson Edwards—June 14, 2015, at Bucharest, Romania.

We have finally landed in Bucharest after a very long flight to Moscow and then a much shorter flight to Romania. I’m tired of having my big frame crammed into airline seats that were made for much smaller people than me.

I’m glad that we decided to spend the night here before heading into the mountains tomorrow. All I want to do is shower, eat a good meal, and get some sleep. Well, I wouldn’t mind fucking around with Nick Troyer, the security expert that is in the delegation. He’s a big military meathead, but he’s built like an army tank, and I certainly wouldn’t mind riding on his cannon.

Roger Jamieson, the IT expert, stereotypically spent the whole trip on his electronics and had very little to say to me or anyone else. James High from the State Department was nice enough, but he was a politician, which I didn’t really trust.

I was contracted to make this journey for diplomatic reasons. When I was first called to Washington for the briefing, I assumed that meant that I was supposed to seduce someone into doing something that would benefit our government. It wouldn’t be the first time that they have asked me to do this. But, there did not appear to be a need in this case. A large Romanian business syndicate was looking to relocate to the US and needed help with logistics. There was obviously something dangerous or top secret about the companies because the government was involved, but it was way over my level of clearance.

Having asked why they needed my help, Mr. High had said that there would probably be a lot of negotiations and that I was to be the lead. Marked men were famously known for their negotiation skills, and I was no exception. I figured that the Romanians would trust me more than they would someone from our government, so it made sense to me. I look forward to showing off my skills.

“The weather’s great here for summer,” James High said as we exited the airport. He had called for a cab to take us to the hotel.

It was a warm day with a strong breeze that kept you cool. “It is,” I agreed.

“Hold onto your bags at all times,” Nick warned.

We were only supposed to be here for a week or so, but James and I had each brought numerous suit bags that we were forced to check. The other two members of our party just had duffle bags that they did not check. Nick Troyer had already warned us about thieves in crowds who specialize in snatching luggage and picking pockets. I nervously checked to make sure that I still had my wallet and passport.

“And don’t turn on your personal cell phones,” Roger reminded us. He had gone over the cybersecurity issues within Eastern European countries with us previously, and we now had burner phones to use.

Shit! This is such a negative way to start a trip. This general mood was not good for diplomacy.

The cab pulled up, James checked the number on his call slip against the number on the cab, and we loaded up. It was a small van, but it easily handled our luggage and all of us. I sat by a window and stared out in amazement at the city. The first thing I noticed was the amazing amount of trees for such an urban area. The buildings were amazing, and as we came to a roundabout that held a smaller version of Paris’ Arch de Triomphe, I was smiling from ear to ear. I really liked this city already.

I was excited about traveling out of the country again. This was the first time that I had left the United States, except for the Caribbean, since my Service had ended. I had traveled pretty extensively with my Master when I was in his Service but had always felt protected. This time, I felt loose, untethered, and while that came with an exciting exhilaration, it was also very scary.

Bucharest was huge and seemed to be the central hub of the country, so I was a little surprised that the companies that we were here to help were not located here. The taxi stopped in front of the Marriott Grand Bucharest Hotel, and a valet opened the doors for us.

James took care of the check-in procedure, and we soon had our keys in hand. Our four rooms were in a block on the second floor with Nick and me on one side, and James and Roger on the other.

James unlocked his door and told us, “We will leave for dinner at six thirty, fellas.”

Roger was already in his room, so Nick looked over at me. I knew when a NOMAR, or non-marked man, needed to fuck. “You going to take a nap, Nick?” I asked.

He shrugged his wide shoulders and said, “I don’t know. What are you going to do?”

I made sure James was in his room before answering, “I’m going to lie under you while you pound the fuck out of my ass.”

He double checked to make sure that we were not overhead. “That is something that I definitely want to do,” he said with his normally serious face and tone.

“Well, don’t be so happy about it, Nick,” I said sarcastically, continuing to flirt.

“I’m a serious man, Grayson, and I’m going to seriously tear you a new ass hole.” His expression never changed, but he grabbed the front of his black cargo pants and squeezed.

“That is something that I can get behind,” I said with a laugh. “I’m going to shower first and then I’ll be over.”