<span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;">Chehalis, Washington</span><br/><br/>John was awoken as the car he had been riding in for the past several days hit a pothole on a dirt road. "We're almost there, sir." The driver yelled back at him. Johnathan shook the sleep from his eyes and observed the tall pine tree towering over the road. The sky was dark and grey making the evergreen trees into a dark and imposing woodland. Johnathan had long since changed his clothes to a suit and tie appropriate for bureaucratic work he assumed he would be doing. The car rounded a curve much to slow for his liking revealing the large and slightly run down mansion of his late friend Harold Greenewood. Everything clicked in his head as he put little bits of information that he had and had gathered. His eyes turned an even more run down workshop sitting off to the left of the mansion. A small handful of crates under a tarp sat in front of the workshop. The car came to a stop and he stepped out and heard more cars coming.<br/><br/>John watched somewhat surprised that his car had arrived first followed shortly by a pair of other cars, one similar to the one he arrived in the other brought back memories. The cars came to a stop next to his as he focused on the third car. Realizing it was left over German staff car from the war Progeny took a guess at the who would step out when it stopped. Much to his surprise he didn't recognize the man in the German Wehrmacht uniform until he saw the medal and monocle. The man he had remembered as the premiere paranormal studies expert of Europe had become a haggard old shell of his former self while he still carried the dignity of a former German aristocrat. Progeny had met him once just before the end of the First World War during the Rhine death fields crisis where he had died and Werner earned the Pour Le Merit that hung around his neck. John was going to speak when some kind of guy dressed like a doctor popped out of the car between his and Werner's. John looked at the third man with a look of disappointment just before a flash of lightning and roll of thunder ushered in a torrential downpour as if on queue. John grabbed his duffel bag from the trunk of his car and ran up on the porch. He tried the door finding it locked. Using his boot as a key he kicked it inwards and entered the mansion.