"I don't know what you're talking about--you must have me mistaken for someone else."

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"I don't know what you're talking about--you must have me mistaken for someone else."

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If Mr. Underwood had not intended to insult him by inviting him, than by the time he had shown him the door, he had certainly managed to do so. Viktor had not expected to come from this meeting unless the President had been particularly foolish, but to be denied such basic hospitality was a decision that Mr. Underwood would regret. Now, it was time to go home. The car ride over gave him some time to think, at least until he was interrupted and told that there was a car following them. He was asked if he wanted to stop and he said no; the President couldn’t just change his mind and expect him to reciprocate. It was a short ride to the airport and he intended to go straight on his way to the plane. But a woman came scampering out of the mysterious vehicle and his men had no choice but to apprehend her. A poor decision, all things considered. Mr.Underwood’s bodyguard looked like they could have come out of an Ian Fleming novel. But his own looked like a one man army. All he had to do was raise his hand and they unhanded her. He approached, blue eyes scanning over the mousy girl. “My men saw you following for quite some time. I hope you are not what passes for an assassin in this country,” he said, taking lead in the conversation. Then he asked, “Are you one of Frank’s?” One might have chalked it up to his first language being Russian that the conciseness of the phrase made it sound demeaning. But the fact was that he had made no mistake in his phrasing.
Dear future me,
good luck!! i hope yer doing well ... over there .... smashing the patriarchy and stuff ..