#squeaky button

"Mr Lasley, is it? Have you been waiting for long?" A soft sound of documents being flipped through and a slight creak of a chair were the only sounds aside from the two voices.

"No, don't worry about it, Mrs Mironova."

"Well? What do we owe the pleasure of having gentlemen from your organization visit our humble temple of health?"

"Humble?" Lasley chuckled, the voice hoarse and surprised – but not from the question itself, rather his own unexpected reaction to her words. "Oh, please, Bolma-Pharm just barely less impressive than the infamous Umbrella Corporation."

For a long moment, there was a silence, only broken by the soft electrical noise of the voice recorder.

"Factually incorrect, agent. We are a rather humble organization, far from the colossus that Umbrella was." Elizaveta finally spoke, her low voice quiet and slightly amused. "And is the comparison with the corporation-terrorist intentional? Or just a slip of the tongue?"

Another long moment of silence, before a loud creak of the chair and Lasley's cough broke it. "So, Mrs Mironova... Could you, please, tell me about Bolma-Pharm?"

Elizaveta sighs, no doubt composing herself in the chair before continuing, "Bolma-Pharm was previously a research center, founded in 1978 by my late husband and his two schoolmates. As you, perhaps, may or may not know, my husband's sister died to aggressive form of diabetes at the age of 8, unable to receive treatment. This inspired him to start helping families that for one or another reason could not access insulin for their kids. We have various charity programs, which goals are to provide it."

"Bolma covers the expenses completely?"

"Correct."

"Isn't it a bit... Unprofitable?"

A dry chuckle escaped Elizaveta's mouth and Lasley couldn't help but cough awkwardly in his fist.

"Not everything is about profit, agent. Besides, as I said, Bolma-Pharm wasn't created as a commercial project to begin with. We grew bigger, yes, but our main goal has always been a research and care for one's life. It hasn't changed since. Besides, the company earns more than enough to sustain a few charity programs and care centers for terminally ill."

"Do you have any outside sponsorship?"

"Of course we do, mostly private companies. Although, if you would like to access our financial records, you will need something a bit more sustaining than just your desire to do so."

"Of course," the man coughed again. "Tell me, Mrs Mironova, what are the projects Bolma works on now. Granted, I'm not asking for you to spill the confidential information. But maybe just sneak previews of what you found, uh... worthy of your interest."

"Oh." Elizaveta let out another quiet laugh, the sound was lost in a soft rustle of documents on her desk. "I'm afraid, as much as I'm excited to talk about our current projects, it is not on me to discuss them yet – we have partners who also have a say in this. So, for now, you'll just have to be patient and you shall see. Those are very... promising projects. We all have a lot of hope in them."

"...I see. By the way, I was meaning to ask... is this a spider over there?"

"Latrodectus mactans." The woman smiled, although briefly. "Truly fascinating creature... Have you ever heard that their venom could be a cure for dementia?"

"No, I don't think I have... I suppose this is all I wanted to ask then, Mrs Mironova." The chair creaked loudly against the parquet when officer stood up, the soft rustle of clothes and what should've been documents followed soon after. Yet, he didn't seem to hurry and turn the voice recorder off yet.

"Already? You haven't even finished your tea."

"Yes, thank you for your time. No need to escort me."