[center][h1][Color=DF0101]Haakon J. Elvsgaard[/color][/h1]
[img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/cd/b7/cf/cdb7cf9754449c877b71d1294663eaa9.jpg[/img][/center]

[hr][center][Color=DF0101]Location:[/color]Qasr El Nil Barracks -----> Grand Continetal Hotel [/center][hr]

Josephine had taken notice of his note-scribbling. Good, that meant she knew the cogs inside his head were slowly turning, even if they were a bit rusty after Haakon's lake of a real scoop for quite some time. If there was one person he entrusted to discuss this with, it was Josephine. Now one could say a lot of a Hollywood starlett who ravelled in the spotlight, even Josephine he had the (unfortunate) tendency to beam towards any free, able- and good looking man around her. But she was a friend, and Haakon knew that he could trust her with his thoughts. Being far from just a blonde movie star with nothing between her ears helped, she would hopefully have an opinion on his finds. 

That would have to wait, however, as Haakon continued his quiet observation of the conversation going back and forth across the table. Taking another long sip of his scotch, he let his eyes wander freely across the table, casually observing each of the seated members of their little club. His ears though were far from loosely picking up every bit of noise around the barracks; they were directly tuned to the two Keystones' voices. And good for him too, for he would have questioned his own hearing when he heard what (apparent) reason Peter Keystone had for coming back. 

To marry Vera Munn. 

Now that was one heck of a reason to suddenly come back from the dead, although not one unheard of to Haakon. No, it was all the abnormal curiousities that accompanied this entire act fitting a modernistic, impressionistic theatre play that made his eyes rest on Peter. It was, for lack of better words, [i]very, very strange, and very, very suspecious.[/i]

Haakon noticed the soldier, Harry Walsh if he wasn't mistaken, get up from the table and quickly putting some distance between them and him. Perhaps the talk of war had brought back some unpleasent memories for him? Haakon felt a certain sense of empathy for Harry; he himself had never experienced the horrors of war - Norway was after all neutral during the great European slaughterhouses -, he had read many and written a handfull of accounts himself from those who experienced it first-hand. They had went through Hell and back. 

[Color=DF0101]"No arguing about that, Mrs. Ridgeway, far more than usual. I'll head home for the night too, this tired Norwegian fisherman has had enough Egyptian mysticism for a whole year already."[/color] Haakon tried to sound cheerful as he stood up from his chair, giving a polite smile and nod to the others around him. [Color=DF0101]"And Mr. Keystone?"[/color] Haakon let his eyes rest on Peter again, his smile fading away as his face turned serious, even apologetic. 

[Color=DF0101]"I am most sincerely sorry for my rudeness at the Museum. It has been a long day, but I cannot possibly expect to be forgiven for it, nor do I demand it, Lord Captain Keystone. I can only ask. Good night."[/color]

Haakon began to walk towards the exit, ending his pace once he reached the door and turning back to the table. [Color=DF0101]"Are you coming too, Jo?"[/color]