<span style="font-weight: bold">East Berlin, the next day, 11:13 a.m.</span><br/><br/>"Comrade Händler, where should I put this?" The man addressing Hanz-Eren was a young, hopeful policeman right out of the academy. Hanz-Eren had no interest in him - he was a decent policeman, but showed no extraordinary intelligence or skill in any field. Hanz-Eren took a drag of his cigarette and turned to the young, hopeful man. "Just put it all on and around my desk. I shall organize my office myself, thank you." He turned to his window again. Noone else was going to do his organizing for him. Complete overview was given only when you controlled the information yourself. The young policeman sighed and put the box he was carrying next to Hanz-Eren's desk. "That was all the boxes, sir. Was there anything else?" Hanz-Eren smiled despite himself. The power he now wielded was intoxicating in its own way, and not only because he could now do even greater deeds for society. A german KGB agent was to be feared, he knew that, but the way this young man scurried to please him was inebriating. He got a hold of himself, though, and collected his thoughts. The next few days would be pivotal. "I think not, comrade. I have what I need for now." The young man nodded and left the room, seemingly a little disappointed. It didn't matter to Hanz-Eren.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">East Berlin, 3:52 that day</span><br/><br/>Stepping out of the office complex after organizing his new workstation, Hanz-Eren found his car and opened the door. As he got in, he considered what lay ahead of him. He's met a nice girl, who he might even be able to offer a job if everything goes smooth. He had just been promoted, and his career looked promising. He was moving to a new apartment, as well, in order to be close to his centre of information - but this apartment was slightly larger and better equipped than his last. All in all, things were looking on the up and up for Hanz-Eren. He started the engine and began the short drive to the restaurant. He arrived to minutes before schedule, getting out of the car just outside the restaurant as his watch ticked in at 3:58.<span style="font-style: italic">Now, miss Schultze, are you a punctual woman?</span>he thought to himself. Time would most certainly tell what the girl had in store for him, and he looked forward to seeing it. After all, given his recent luck, how could she possibly be bad?