Vrael had left the pub earlier as it bored him to speak about politics for an extended period of time. He had left the headquarters, using the air ducts to exit the building and into the alley.Â<br/><br/>His apartment was on the second floor, with a completely perfect view of the unremarkable street below. A message received, a seemingly mundane one to the unwanted observer, was a cryptic one which painted the venue of the next meeting.Â<br/><br/>He sighed, tossing the slip of paper onto a wooden desk. He sat on his bed, meshing his fingers together in a consideration of sleeping or having a shower, he chose the former.Â