[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://shootingthescript.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/machete-2.jpg?w=455&h=300[/img][hr][b][color=orangered]Location:[/color][/b] The Morgue 
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	Caesar quietly took the pen and paper from Dr. Brinne, writing down the appropriates for the body to be shipped in from Seattle. He attached the postit note that he had just finished writing upon to the doctor's notepad; the smaller slip of sticky-sided paper containing contact information for Lorna's next of kin. There was little to write about his Seattle associate, aside from a name and a few details to confirm that the body was, in fact, the one in question. He passed it back to her and pulled out his phone. 
	
	Ducking off to the side, the elder man tapped through various menus on his phone, before finding a specific contact. The device rung three times before Caesar began to speak. [color=orangered]"Kelley Breeden. Put the remains on the next transport, standard release papers. Yeah. Justice, California Coroner's Office, care of Cecily Ashworth and Dr. Natasha Brinne. Only. [i]As soon as possible.[/i]"[/color] 

	Caesar found an empty chair and shuffled out a single slice of pizza, unceremoniously shoving it into his mouth. With an air of quiet ceremony, he poured a small amount of his frosted barley pop into a wastebasket (etiquette usually dictated that the liquid hit the ground, but in an office setting such precaution might be forgiven), before taking a sip for himself. A bite or two down, and his curiosity got the better of him. [color=orangered]"Which airfield? Maybe I can help."[/color]