She was supposed to have reached the airport an hour ago. Thanks to Tyson's poor time management, she was now running late. As soon as he drove up to the departure terminal, Hilary jumped out of the car.

Tyson stepped out to help her with the small suitcase and backpack. She had packed light, reasoning with herself that she would only have to spend less than a week or two in Russia as she had next to no chance of meeting up with Kai or getting him to agree with their crazy plan.

She had met Mr Dickinson at the hospital a couple of days back and was relieved to see him recovering, albeit slowly. He had asked her to get in touch with his personal secretary who would book her flights and accommodation. Hilary was also given some emergency cash and a company credit card to help cover her expenses in Moscow. Mr. Dickinson had also entrusted her with a sealed envelope addressed to Kai.

As she stood outside the terminal, she was filled with a sense of dread and excitement in equal measure. She had told colleagues at the BBA that she was going to Russia to meet a prospective sponsor for the junior league team. No one had raised any eyebrows at her statement as they assumed Mr. Dickinson was sending her in his stead due to him being indisposed. She was, after all, the Marketing Manager at the BBA.

Tyson handed her the bags and pulled her in for a hug.

"Call me as soon as you reach the hotel. Keep me informed about your whereabouts. And remember not to go out after dark or into any dodgy alleways. And if you meet captain killjoy, give him a kick from me", he added.

Hilary giggled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'll be alright Tyson. The BBA have arranged the airport transfer and accommodation. So it should be safe. I will get this stuff sorted and be back before you know it. Meanwhile, promise me you will keep an eye on Mr.Dickinson".

Tyson nodded, letting go of her. She walked to the terminal gates and turned around, giving him a reassuring smile and a wave before following the crowd inside.

The check in process went smoothly and before long she was comfortably seated inside the airplane, ready for the ten hour journey. She dug inside her backpack to pull out a thick paper back novel that she had brought along for the journey. She settled down with a sigh as the plane lifted off from the runway and headed towards the cold and mystical land of Moscow.

--

The plane touched down in Moscow a little after 5.30 in the evening. The airport was crowded with holiday travellers and it took her a few minutes to locate her luggage. Trudging along with her bags, Hilary followed the crowd of passengers towards the exits. She knew Moscow would be cold in October and had dressed appropriately, but inspite of her jacket, she shivered slightly as the wind whipped around her hair and clothes.

The BBA had arranged for a car to take her to 'Hotel Gardenia' which would be her accommodation for the duration of her stay. She had a brochure of the botique hotel which showcased warmly decorated rooms with beautiful balconies for guests to lounge on. The building radiated an old world charm and had vines with pretty pink flowers creeping up the sides. Hilary couldn't wait to check in and have a relaxing night after her journey.

She reached the exit and stood outside the arrivals terminal. There were many people holding up placards with guests names, however she couldn't locate her name on any. She was about to give up and hail a taxi when she noticed a middle aged man in an unkempt suit holding up a hastily written sign 'Ms Tackybana'.

Hilary did a double-take as she stared at the placard, before sighing and walking towards the man. A few tourists were sniggering at the sign and she felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Would it have killed you to get the name right?" Hilary mubbled under her breath as she walked up to the man, extending her hand in greeting. He took no notice of her hand and instead grabbed her suitcase and walked off towards a dusty old car that had seen better days.

As the car pulled out of the airport compound, she tried to make polite conversation with the driver. But he continued to ignore her making her believe that perhaps he spoke no English at all. She tried to clumsily greet him in Russian using the translator application on her phone. Still, he made no move to acknowledge her.

Could he be differently abled or did she perhaps do something that offended him? she mused.

But as they inched closer towards the city centre, Hilary's mood lightened considerably. They were driving through beautiful tree lined streets that housed many glamorous hotels. She hoped that her accommodation would be somewhere along this street as it would give her an excellent view of the city.

But the car drove on until they came to a shabby neighborhood with overflowing dumpsters and shady looking alleways. Hilary was silently praying that her driver had taken this detour to escape traffic and would soon drive back onto the well-lit main street. Unfortunately, the car came to a stop outside a run down building that looked like a motel.

'Hotel Gardenia'- A sign board flickered feebly. The light in a few of the letters had blown out. The driver took out her bags and walked to the entrance of the hotel.

"No... No, Sir I think you have the wrong place", Hilary grabbed her case out of his hand and turned to walk back to the car.

The driver shook his head and pointed at the sign board. Frantically, Hilary pulled out the brochure from her backpack and thrust it at him.

"I go here", she spoke slowly, tapping the picture. The man circled his finger on the street name mentioned in the brochure and then pointed to a light post which had the same street address.

Hilary's brain was imploding at the turn of events. She watched the unfriendly driver walk back to his car after depositing her suitcase unceremoniously at the front door of the building. As he reveresed his car out of the street he cheekily called out to her in perfect English, " Have a good night Miss and welcome to Moscow".

Hilary stared after him in disbelief.

What the hell was going on? How could this be the same hotel featured in the brochure?

She glanced down at the picture and back again at the ugly building in front of her. It did have those balconies, however the doors to them were all boarded up. There were no plants anywhere in the vicinity except for a dead one in a chipped pot placed outside the entrance.

Hilary gingerly pushed open the door which emitted a loud creak like a wailing cat. There was no one at the old dilapidated reception desk. She was about to grab her bags and make a run for it when a door under the stairs opened and a portly, badling man stepped out in a yellowing vest.

"You are finally here BBA girl", he boomed.

Hilary smiled meekly as he fished out a set of keys and asked her to follow him up the stairs. There was no elevator on the premises and Hilary half lifted, half dragged her luggage up the narrow staircase. Mercifully her room was on the 1st Floor.

The man introduced himself as Anton, the innkeeper. He lived on the premises with his wife who was also the cook for patrons. He opened the doors to her room and stepped back proudly. Hilary's heart dropped as she took in the gloomy room with floral wall paper and a filthy furry carpet. The bedsheets looked as though they hadn't seen water in a decade. Anton informed her in broken English that the BBA had reserved the best suite room for her, complete with complimentary breakfast. However they had hot water supply in the washrooms for only two hours in the morning...from 5 to 7.

Oh Lord! She would have to wake up at the crack of dawn for a proper shower.

Anton wished her a goodnight and a pleasant stay before closing the door and leaving Hilary alone in the dank room.