The corridor wrapped in darkness. Nevertheless, Berger discerned a winged insect slowly crawling on the ceiling; he followed it with his gaze. Only when he stopped watching it did he realize it was a bee. Although the only light in the corridor could hardly be called light, it was quite distinguishable. Small, circular, at eye level on the closed door that separated him from the other man; both were pressed against the concrete wall, each on their side of the door, holding their weapons ready. In the nonexistent light, the older man fixed his cold gray gaze on Berger and nodded. Without lowering his weapon, Berger bent down and picked up something that looked like a single magnifying glass for watchmakers or diamond appraisers. He quietly placed it on the peephole of the door and looked inside. The perspective was somewhat asymmetrical, but the interior of the apartment looked fine. A hallway stretched to the beginning of a living room. Right in front, at the first faint dawn of a November morning, a pair of giant eagles seemed to flutter inside toward the large windows of the room. As if in slow motion, they approached closer and closer, within the visual asymmetry, black silhouettes that for a moment seemed to hover in upward air currents just outside the windows.
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