<blockquote><div><cite><span style="font-style: italic">Oberstleutenant</span> Erlind Kohler wrote:</cite>Officer Yvonne Wójcik,<br/><br/>It is of a high importance that you keep the contents of this message to yourself.<br/>Like poison, curiosity is as harmful to the people who drink it as to those<br/>around it, dear. The world is small, and news travel fast.<br/><br/>With all due respect, Officer Wójcik, you can stay the hell out of my business<br/>or meet me tomorrow at 1800 at the address below, to discuss more<br/>serious matters. Fortunately for us, we may be able to make certain<br/>pleasant arrangements for this cause.<br/><br/>The Glyptothek Museum<br/>Königsplatz, 80333 München<br/><br/><br/>And come alone. <br/><br/>Kind regards,<br/>E.K</div></blockquote><br/><br/>The commander read the contents of the letter once more.  Glyptothek Museum.  Alone.  Suppertime.  She recognized the threat written in Kohler's words, but he immediately contradicted them with such a location at such an hour.  The museum may not have been the most trafficked place at this time of the year, but it was public nonetheless, and with the mention of "arrangements" the letter spoke greatly of fear, arrogance, or both.  She had no patience for this sort of ineptitude.<br/><br/>The door whistled as she threw it open to chase after the messenger; having sensed the darkness fading on its other side, she knew it had to be Kohler or possibly a hellish underling she could depose of, sending back her own message before she had to physically arrive at a time-consuming impasse.  Alas, it was not.  Her tight jaw fell loose at the form before her, and Officer Wojcik closed it immediately.  The door, not her jaw.<br/><br/>When she did take account of her appearance, she closed her mouth first.  It only took her a moment to bind up the blonde locks that fell longer than necessary and she was still twisting them around at the back of her head as she pulled the door open again with her foot, turning her back as she stepped toward the vanity and started replacing the items she had laid there just moments before.  "Officer Fabiano."  Her greeting was a side-tracked sigh as she finished with the rope atop her head.  She clasped a bracelet to each wrist, bent over to view her work in the mirror, and used it to maintain only the ends of the bun within it's center, as perfect as it had been when she had first met the man currently at her door.  Satisfied, she stood up again with a whisk of her jacket, slipping it onto both arms before he could enter the room, though she kept her back to him still as she worked on the buttons and fastened the belt.  "I was not expecting you at this hour," she told him.  Chances were he could see her from where he stood, but she did not face him until she was finished.<br/><br/>When she did, he looked stuck somewhere between coming and going.  He was facing the inside, but his toes pointed away, and he didn't seem focused on the woman who spoke to him, his eyes not on hers; however, it was only momentarily as they found hers.  His lips parted but no words were emitted from them.  Surprisingly, she did not find her patience tried.  She knew the messenger had the ability to make their escape easily in the shadows which were abundant at night, and Officer Wojcik could use the time to better assess and prepare for their meeting.  Life was full of distractions such as this, and she couldn't blame him for being slave to them as well.  He had suffered a head injury, after all.<br/><br/>She refrained from sighing a second time, and turned to place her bible back in the drawer at her bedside.  As she did so, it picked up the air in the room, swirling it around so the Italian's cologne wafted to her senses, causing her to breathe a little more deeply without conscious effort to do so.  It was pleasant.  Quite pleasant, in fact.  She did not react to it except for the brief stall as she finally asked, "To what do I owe this visit, Fabiano?"  She had not intended to ignore his title, but the man was not in uniform, so she supposed he did not warrant the formality.  Which brought her question all the more to bare.