He takes a second to regain his composure. He knows that getting riled up like he did was unprofessional and unbecoming. Her laughter only amplifies her noticeable anxiety. As she begins to speak, he returns to his notepad. He begins to once again write down each word, hoping to learn something, anything. The name of the man she had mentioned beginning to sound vaguely familiar. "I knew a Bill Leone, back during the war, he was a decent enough man, but an awful soldier." He says as she finishes speaking.<br/><br/>His mind flashes back, he finds himself lost in thought. He had met a man named Bill Leone in Paris in 1917, they had gone to separate boot camps, and were in different battalions. The only reason their paths had crossed was simply because they had arrived in the same place at the same time. They wouldn't meet again until a year later, a few weeks after the armistice. They would sail home together, talking of their plans about what they would do after they got back. After their arrival in the harbor, Joseph would never see the man again.<br/><br/>He snaps himself back to reality. "You will need to relocate yourself, first and foremost. If there is anywhere you could go where Leone doesn't know, go there. If you need to reach me, you have my phone number." He places his notepad on the desk, stretching in his chair.