[i]Wo de ming zi jiao Chen, wo zai ze li...yao gen yi ge ren lai jiang hua.[/i]

"H - Hi, my name is Chen. I came to speak with a man."

He sighed. Coming all the way from Beijing was a tedious task, and now he sat in a train car, heading for his final destination of Pryrush, some backcountry town in the middle of Europe. His bag sat on his lap as he busied himself with reading a book. An English publication of course, he was no stranger to the language, but here in this foreign land he had to appear like a harmless tourist. Especially since was here to meet...a very unpleasant someone. 

The note made him shudder. It had been the latest in a series of letters that had described, in excrutiating detail, his invitation to a quiet country house for a tete a tete with a Mister Jig. They had much in common, it seemed, and he was particularly interested in Chen's craft. He had no choice but to attend and see what this crafty fellow wanted. 

The train rolled to a stop, the PA announcing the current location as Pryrush. Without a word he snapped his book shut, stowed it in his bag and exited the car, as did several other people. Two men immediately caught his eye: both distinctly not European or Caucasian. Foreign. One of them said something about looking for someone and the other replied in kind. Chen kept himself out of it, instead looking around for a bench or something that he could sit down at. The station was one of those old, rural ones, but there were benches at least. He sat down on one and nervously rubbed the strap of his bag. 

Things like this never happened before. 

At least, not to him.