As the creaking door swung open, the pulsating thump of synthwave music spilled into the dimly lit bar, casting an ephemeral glow on the eclectic gathering within. The motley crew, scattered across the room, ceased their conversations, their collective attention drawn to the newly arrived figure.

Sasha Yakovleva, perched on a barstool with an air of unruffled poise, arched an eyebrow as her cyber-optic gaze fixated on the newcomer. Her scrutinizing evaluation lingered, a silent interrogation conducted through the subtle language of glances and unspoken assessments.

Maine's commanding voice cut through the momentary hush, providing a cadence to the scene.

"Listen up, everyone. This is our temporary addition, here for a specific mission. Play nice and we'll all get along just fine."

The crew's nodding heads conveyed a reluctant agreement, with David flashing a friendly grin, evidently pleased by the prospect of fresh company. However, Sasha's gaze, unwavering and enigmatic, remained fixed on the newcomer, a silent acknowledgment of their presence.

Maine continued, outlining the mission parameters with a brusque efficiency that echoed the businesslike nature of their clandestine affairs. As the debriefing progressed, Sasha's attention momentarily shifted to the details of the upcoming operation, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass.

With the conclusion of Maine's briefing, the room resumed its low hum of activity. David raised his glass in a welcoming gesture, a camaraderie evident in his eyes. Sasha, however, offered a measured nod before returning to her drink, the depths of her gaze revealing nothing, leaving an air of mystery that lingered amidst the neon glow of the rented-out bar.