Damien got up the next morning and took a shower and got ready for the day. He went down from his room which was in the barrack they had built on the top floor of the warehouse his team used as a staging area for all of their equipment and trucks to his office on the main floor. He gave them men orders to give him a full inventory on what they had and what they would need for a long term assignment to the island just in case the guy was serious or more so if he had the money to pay for their “special” services. “Wearing my guns to this café would probably attract the wrong kind of attention,” he thought to himself, “but I’m at least taking a couple knives.” So he slipped on into each boot put his seven inch buck knife on his belt and slipped a smaller folding knife into his pocket. “Don’t you think that might be a little over kill?” Charles asked from the door to his office. “Maybe but I can’t wear my guns to the café so I thought this might let the guy know I’m the one he’s there to talk to since I don’t have a description or anything to go on.” Damien replied. Charles nodded and stepped aside as Damien left for the café. Once he was there he bought a coffee and sat at a table in the corner so they would have some measure of privacy to discuss their business once this man arrived. If he even showed up.