The Captain sat and looked up at the latest figure to begin to address him patiently, his chin came to rest on one hand in a somewhat bored manner and throughout the course of the phone call, Lucien watched the back of the man’s head, rolling his eyes once or twice at the unnecessary display. From the course of the rushed phone conversation, Lucien picked out only the name of his own Agency and shrugged at the return of the more aggressive member of this increasingly unusual team.

“You’ve heard of us.” Aware that this response answered none of the previous questions, Lucien took a sigh and carried on. As he spoke, the officer tapped his knee lightly with the fingers of his spare hand and looked around at everyone who was even half-listening, still presenting a slightly bored outward façade. “I think I probably told you that I was Captain Lucien Hawker. I’d explain the Agency too, but it seems your colleague here already has experience in international police forces. By the way, I’ve got no connection to Interpol before anyone asks, they’re little more than an intelligence gathering agency, dependant on national forces to do their work for them- they have no legal jurisdiction.”

“Your Agency, on the other hand, I do have some brief knowledge of.” At this, the officer reached into his pocket and extracted a nondescript sheet of paper, simple white, neatly lined in dark type. “Collected by our coordinating officer for non-human crimes. She described you as, and I quote, ‘a Chicago based underground agency dealing in the supernatural’ featuring ‘operatives from a range former walks of life including potential ex-governmental agents’. Your operations are of little concern to me, you do a good job by the sound of it and you’re hardly posing a major risk to international security by killing off a few creatures that ninety percent of the human population refuse to believe exist anyway.” With a coy smile, the Captain rose and turned on the spot to examine the crate of weapons he had been leaning against. He reached in slowly, half-lifting one of the larger firearms in a casual fashion.

“I have no doubt that if I try to trace these weapons I’ll find a mountain of bureaucracy which ends in a dead-end of paperwork somewhere in China. It’s an illegal shipment and to be perfectly honest, I couldn’t care less.” If this last statement shocked anyone, the officer didn’t allow much more than a second or two before continuing to speak. “You’re a unique team. Something I haven’t seen before and something…” He turned now to look the aggressive arrival directly in the eye. “…that if you don’t mind me doing so, I’d like to watch in action. I am going to stay on this ship. I am going to sit back and watch this operation. And you, sir, are going to pretend that I am not here. If you have any objection then I suggest you call your boss over before insulting a senior member of an international force again.”

By the end of this little speech the two men were stood no more than a couple of inches apart, both with the same half-patronising, half-contempt-filled smile. There was little between their arguments, Lucien's only real backing lay in his judicial authority- he at least was here legally.