"Yes, a good afternoon, if I may say so. Please, have a seat, Mr. Riemann."
He extends a hand towards a chair, and then turns to his assistants.
"Before we begin in earnest; Mr. Edison, a signal jamming field*, if you would? Nothing excessive, just enough to cover the room. Mr. Hevesy, would you please cover the door?"
The bodyguard, pose rigid, walks over and stands at attention by the door. The other offers just a nod.
"Good. Now, Mr. Riemann, we can have our trade. Given that you and I are both here, we clearly recognize our respective needs."

Telarius reaches into his coat pocket, and withdraws a small case. Gently, he opens it, and extracts its content. The circuit board is recently made, the sharp edges press deeply into Telarius' gloves. On it sits a microprocessor, mounted snugly in its socket. He holds it to the light for a few moments, then returns it to its case.

"I have here all you will ever need from me. I'm afraid that the nature of what I desire makes it more prohibitive for you to return that favor, however, so I am more than willing to cooperate to the fullest extent of our trade, Mr. Riemann."

((*This, naturally, is regular radio frequency jamming.))