Kirk Logan<br/>Francie's Place<br/>0738<br/>March 16, 2220<br/><br/><br/>The mood in Francie's Place is somber and very tense in the aftermath from news of the last arrests made in connection with the botched job.  Even the regulars who seemed to live there playing pool in the corner were subdued.  Nothing like their normal noisy cat calls or crude remarks for the scantly dressed waitress's and working girls who at the moment were lounging around with nothing better to do than pick at there nail polish waiting for their next trick.<br/><br/>Kirk Logan sat in one of the far corner booths of the main lounge.  As usual his back was against the wall facing out towards the door.  As yet he had not pulled back the dark green hood of his hooded cloak his face hid in the deep shadows of the hood.  Only the red glow of the end of his cigar could be clearly seen.  On the table in front of him was a tall glass of ale yet to be touched.  Which as most who work in and frequent Francie's Place is a very bad sign.<br/><br/>Kirk was supposed to have had a meeting with the infamous Harlan Soames this morning but all indications said that the man was not likely to show.  Ears ever alert to the conversations around him eyes constantly scanning the room Kirk is finding it harder and harder to just sit still.  But good form between Rebels prevents him from just up and leaving.  He'll wait until an hour past the appointed meeting time before he sets off to set in motion a few of his own plans.