It was hard to find, making your way across the famous canals of Amsterdam, trying to go unnoticed. There were so many tourists that no one noticed little old you sneaking into a small building. The door showed nothing out of the ordinary, but once you walk inside you know better. The security is not only state of the art, the entire interior radiates wealth and comfort. This is the place where the upperclass of the criminal underworld come to shop for their glasses and you have finally received your invitation to become one of them. One of the "chosen ones", enough of a high roller to be allowed entrance into this exclusive lifestyle.

A butler stops you dead in your tracks. "I'm sorry, it's customary." He gestures towards a large security guard, who gives you a pat down. He discovers the small, hidden gun in your sleeve, and the knife in your sock. You grin. "Part of the job," you say. These people probably understand what you mean.
The butler nods and after you handed over your phone he turns around and walks into the building. "Of course, what may we call you during your presence here?"

"My name is ."