The Clone Wars of Istanbul
The entrance to the Markafoni offices were vast and empty. They were on the outskirts of Istanbul, somewhere even the cab driver could not find. The reception desk was new, the Marcafoni logo behind it still factory polished, and the expanse of warehouse space to left of it blocked only with a few bushes. The company’s logistics team had moved out less than two weeks before, and the all the emptiness—it felt like acres of it—was to be converted to office space for Markafoni and its subsesidiaries. The building smelled like ambition.
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