---

---

Hearing the reporter's voice over his shoulder, Harry stopped as he reached the stairs to glance back at the man, giving him a nod. "It was nothing, truly, I just hope Aziza will be able to get a good night's rest with this distress dealt with." He'd say coolly, remaining where he was as he spotted the Lord Major approaching, nodding his head toward the man as he listened to him as he spoke. "Of course, Lord-Major, far be it from me to say otherwise, you ar a friend of Miss Tarek's, and have as much a right as I to come assure her safety and comfort." He said with the utmost politeness. He may have been retired, but he could not help but speak to the Lord-Major in the manner that he would any other commanding officer back when he was in the service.

Moving back up the stairs, Harry saw Aziza open the door for them as they reached her room, moving into the room, he gently set a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it in a comforting manner as he stepped aside, letting the other gentlemen into the room as he stood behind Aziza now, taking the position of a guardian of sorts, he had taken her as his charge that night after all, and he'd be damned if he shirked on his guard even in the presence of such warm company.

---

---

Associate. His associate. Well, it was an improvement from earlier on when he was simply being ignored. Then again what else could the honourable British Lord Major do when they were standing a mere few meters away from each other around Sgt. Walsh? Haakon didn't complain, however, and did his best to send a friendly smile towards the elder Keystone. Beside, he had after all come to inspect on them with an armed escort, so Haakon wouldn't dislike him for not caring at least.

It didn't take long for them to reach their destination; the now infamous door of intruige, deadly romance, dashing adventures and secrets. That and many more titles that Haakon had seen printed on the largest newspapers in the world over the years. Same titles, same substance, yet deeply fascinating as always. As Aziza opened the door and let the men inside, Haakon stepped over to Josephine, resting his hand gently on her shoulder. "Are you alright, Jo? Nothing else noteworthy happen while we were gone?" He asked, his voice filled with concern for his friend - and Aziza of course, he couldn't imagine how she must have been feeling right now. Which was why, when she looked at him amongst the others in the room, he forced a confident smile on his face and adressed her.

"Everything is as well as they can be as of now, Miss Tarek. The honorable Lord-Mayor and Mr. Keystone arrived just as we handed over the filty of a man to the local authorities. He was taken away, and he's in no position to escape the long arm of the law now, trust me. The Lord-Mayor thankfully brought with him suitable protection, so this hotel is as safe as possible. But how are you, Miss Tarek? Are you faring better?"

---

---

Finally, the others arrived. Sgt. Walsh entered, as did the Lord Major and Peter. Haakon was shortly behind them. She stood up and brushed herself off before walking towards everyone. "Seems all is well now. It is nice to see you all again, though the circumstances are not ideal." She glanced at Peter. She still didn't trust the man, but that was for another day. She left Aziza in the capable hands of the sergeant and paid little mind to the elderly man. After all, she was sure he was more concerned for Peter and Aziza than he was for her.

She instead turned her attention to Haakon, "Just fine, darling. We merely sat here and waited. I wanted to make sure she was safe before we left for the night. I imagine it should be safe to head back to our hotel?"

---

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The Lord Major was contemplating the best way to phrase his response to Aziza's question, that being a desire to know if everything was "all right". It was a difficult question to answer, if one really got down to it. His hesitation gave a conversational opening that the Scandinavian journalist utilized to covey his point of view of the situation downstairs. He paused, trying not to interrupt until a proper moment availed itself.

"I'm afraid I cannot respond to your question honestly without confessing ignorance, Miss Tarek." Reginald began. "There have been very strange happenings these past few hours; related incidents or not is the guess of men wiser than myself. I do not expect, madame, that Fate is through with its slings and arrows. The alarms initially caught my attention, which I found out was not a simple coincidence. Speaking of which, your villain downstairs? So far as is concerned, as Mr. ...ah, Elvs-gaard? Yes, quite - Elvsgaard mentioned, he is in custody of the local authority. What our representative of the Press surmised incorrectly is the reason for our Royal Military's presence."

Reginald looked to each of the people in the room, one by one, with serious expression. "They are not here specifically to perform guard duty, you see. Nor can they without either a verifiable need or permission of the proprietor, unless it is a government run establishment. I ordered them to provide escort." He let the words hang there for a second. "Unless you provide unilateral refusal, these men are to escort you back to barracks for your own safety. We have been marked, literally and figuratively, and I fear that tonight's disturbances thusfar are merely the first course in what promises to be a long and filling meal of intrigue and ill event."

"Some of our fellowship is already present, in dignitary's quarters. Until we better understand the nature of our situation, safety would be better found in organized numbers."

---

---

Aziza nodded towards Harry as he squeezed her shoulder, giving a slight smile of relief. She was glad he and Haakon were okay and that Abbas was no long er with them. Looking over towards Haakon she nodded once again. "Yes, I am fine. Thank you, thank you both for taking care of removing that ass-hat from our presence. Miss Clark has been wonderful sticking by my side through this while you dealt with him." Her voice was kind as she glanced over towards Josephine and smiled towards a woman she was quickly considering a friend. It was not often she opened up but there was just something about her that put her at ease. Maybe it was her confidence. Perhaps it was her carefree attitude. Whatever, it was, she felt an odd kinship with her.

Looking over at the LORD MAJOR! she cocked a brow. It was an interesting proposition but if Lauren was going to remain in the barracks for the evening, how could she stay in the hotel? With Harry... Alone. The thought caused her cheeks to flush as her eyes drifted over to him before looking away sharply. Clearing her throat she nodded in agreement. This could very well just be the start of much more than the ending to a trying day. If Abbas could get into her room, who was to say others couldn't? Could she really risk that right now? Put others in danger because she didn't want to go? No, she couldn't.

"Yes, a good idea. If Sgt. Walsh does not mind, I would be very thankful to be able to hold up in the care of your guards for the evening Lord Major. It is very generous of you," she said softly. "Perhaps it would be best if we all did. Just to be safe."

Peter nodded slightly, giving a sideways glance towards Haakon. The man had irked him earlier but he had performed as a gentleman for these ladies since then. To that he had to concede. "Quite right, would you all care to accompany us this evening? Safety in numbers," he said giving a nod of the head towards Haakon.

---

---

"Ah yes, very good." The Doctor turned and went back to his bag, letting go of her hand gently. Pulling out a glass bottle labeled Carron Oil and some cotton batting. "This mixture has proven to do well with healing and pain relief for ironworkers in Scotland. It should work well for you. The scarring I am afraid there is nothing to do about that than perhaps a trinket to cover it to keep others from noticing. Wouldn't want your husbandly prospects to see such a blemish," he said as he came back to her and applied a liberal amount to all sides before wrapping it up safety.

Resting the bottles on the table he closed his bag. "I will leave these with you. Change twice a day. I would say more to keep it clean but considering you shouldn't be doing anything to dirty yourself I doubt it would be an issue," he said, his brows crinkling as he chuckled to himself. What a funny man he was.

"Bill will be put on your tab and mailed by the end of the month, should you need more please let me know. And do be careful Lady Kingston, I shant speak a word of this but others will gossip if they should see such a wound. Remember, bobbles and trinkets to cut back on loose lips," he chuckled before showing himself out.

At the barracks things were quiet, well okay. They weren't. Vera had woken up suddenly seemingly scared out of her wits, sweet breaking on her brow as she looked around wide eyed. It took her a moment to get her barrings and to see Lauren sitting there. When she did she just giggled. "Run, run, run, got to be speedy!" With that she was back on her back and passed out cold once again. She must have still been still asleep, half drunkenly scared by some nightmare but there was nothing else from her. Just those few words before her eyes closed again and she went back to the soft whistle of slumber. Was she known for speaking in her sleep?

---

---

As Lauren continued to sit by the desk, she would occasionally look out the window she was starting to get pretty tired Lauren was about to lay her head down on the desk to just rest her eyes. Then she could hear Vera stirring in her sleep she turned around and started to make her way over towards the bed when Vera's eyes opened. She looked like she had been woken up by a nightmare of some kind, Lauren got up finding a cloth she dipped it into the pitcher of water and came back. Lauren gently dabbed the cool cloth over Vera's head when she spoke, then she went straight back to her drunken slumber.

She looked at the woman with a slightly confused look wondering what she had meant by that, but then again the woman was pretty wasted by now. Lauren then went to make sure that Vera was as comfortable as possible again looking at her for a moment, she made a note to herself to not let Vera drink anytime soon. Once she had finished Lauren got up and moved over to the table and grabbed the chair she had been sitting in, Lauren carried it over to the side of the bed just to keep a closer eye on Vera if she woke up once more.

---

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---

At the mention of her husbandly prospects potentially diminishing from the scarring, Nora felt a sense of relief. Marriage had never been something she had in mind for herself--in general, she was quite afraid of it. Unable to have children or confine herself to societal expectations, the entire business of marriage seemed to invite despair and nastiness to her. She would be better off left alone. Perhaps intentionally allowing all to see the mark could work in her favor--yet she also knew that her father would be liable to throw her in a home in the countryside for psychiatric treatment.

"Yes, yes, bobbles and trinkets," Nora said absentmindedly, making a mental note to clean the wound more often than the doctor stated. She had no intention of falling ill due to infection or the like. The bill would be quite easy to pay, with the meager funds her father allowed her from her work for him. But of course, a far more pressing matter then remained--what caused this injury to occur?

For the life of her, Nora could not fathom a logical explanation. She had witnessed the entire event, felt the burning pain, and had the wound as evidence. Yet there had been no one there to brand her--her senses must have deceived her, or perhaps, the illogical was real. It was a troubling line of thought, and one that Nora hoped would subside shortly. There would be some explanation for the mark soon enough.

---

---

For the majority of the conversation, Harry was content in his position as a fly on the wall, hands tucked neatly behind his back as he stood alongside Aziza. Considering the presence of the Lord-Major, and just how engaged his night had been, he half felt the instinct to button up his jacket properly and fall into formation downstairs. But that was a life long behind him, a life he was glad to have long behind him. As dramatic and even military as some of the night had been, he was only there through circumstance, and to ensure Aziza's safety throughout the night. However, as the Lord-Major continued to speak, Harry thought it abundantly clear that his 'duties' as-they-were were far from over, he would have a great deal ahead of him still before 'safety' could really be achieved not just for Aziza, but for himself at this point.

Hearing Aziza speak up, he turned his gaze toward her, shaking his head at her comment. "I don't mind at all, I simply would wish for you to be wherever it is you are going to be most comfortable, and safest of course." He assured her politely with a smile, watching her closely for a few moments as he noticed the pink tint to her cheeks. He hadn't spotted it before, and wondered now if perhaps she had been wearing more blush than he previously assumed, or had, for some reason or another, applied some while he was gone. The thought quickly left his mind as a result of not caring enough and he turned to Peter then, giving another firm nod. The barracks would be both a welcome haven and a test for the Sergeant's resolve, at the very least he wished he could have brought his type-writer, the experience could've made interesting writing.

---

---

The smile that Haakon had just before forced onto his face, now rested calmly by itself as he heard Josephine and Aziza tell the group what had happened since Abbas was taken away. It was a relief that Josephine had done her best to keep Aziza calm after all that had happened, and thankfully succeeded in being just the friend Aziza needed. And so he gave that now calm smile first to Aziza, as a You're welcome, and then to Josephine. "Well I think you did excellent, she needed you. But yes, I would think so; the comforts of one's own hotelroom would be a welcoming sight after a night like this..."

However, it would seem that escorting Josephine back to her own hotel had just become one of two - or several - options now presented onto the group. Like Lord-Mayor himself said, the military attaché were there to escort them back to the barracks. For their own protection. Safety in numbers. Haakon wasn't sure what he thought about the proposal. At the one hand Haakon was by now getting tired, and travelling any further was a thought he did not cherish. And his belongings were in this very hotel, some of which he would have prefered to keep an eye over. Peter's nod towards him also made him unsure, though his intent behind the gesture was not as hostile as it had been before...and on the other hand...

"That is a kind proposal you offer here, Lord-Mayor. But for my own position, I will have to ask Miss Clarke and her wishes. I've already promised to escort her back to her own housing. Either way, I'd like to take with me my typewriter and a few other items in my quarters; too afraid of losing my job, you see. But what do you think, Josephine? Your choice."

---

---

Josephine let out a small, exasperated sigh. She really would rather stay in her own room, but circumstances were beyond normal. Perhaps it was best to go with the group. "I would also like to pick up a few things from my room if that is all right, but I don't see the harm in that. If anything, you are right, darling. Safety in numbers. Shall we be off?" She grew tired and she wanted nothing more than a smoke, a drink, and then to sleep soundly. The day's events really got to her.

---

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Reginald looked on satisfactorily as old friends and new acquaintances alike gathered in the hotel room agreed to stick together and return to the Barracks. He would have to put out a feeler or two for Lady Kingston; the Lord Major wasn't certain exactly where she might be located. It would be most unfortunate were anything untoward to occur to the young woman, despite his efforts to centralize and protect the people of their Fellowship. But as it stood, everyone present seemed to be of the same mind, more or less.

Then something odd found its way into Reginald's hearing. "...typewriter, you say...? Excuse me, if you would be as kind." Reginald made his way to a front-facing window and with some struggle managed to raise it high enough to lean out of, catching a bit of Cairo's evening air. "...damned Nile cypress..." he muttered, complaining about the sticky window frame. He didn't have to peer about for very long before he caught sight of who he was after. Unfortunately, it was the Corporal, who was quite busy trying to find a loose thread on his epaulettes.

"Corporal! I say, you there, Corporal!"

From inside the hotel room, one might easily overhear the glaring response from street level, "Yes, Lord MAJOR!" Dear Lord, he was obnoxious. Reginald sighed heavily. This was the pride of the British Military here in Cairo. God help them all.

"Yes, yes. I need you to send a man back to the base on doubletime, mind you!" called Reginald from the window. "Have guest accommodations made available immediately, and get the Clerk on duty to prepare several copies of General Papers of Non-Disclosure, do you hear?"

"The Corporal hears you, Lord MAJOR!" he turned to a private nearby in formation, "Well then, Mr. Wiggles! You heard the Lord MAJOR! Hoof it! On the double! Go go GO!"

Reginald shook his head and drew himself back inside the hotel room. The window shut much more easily than it opened, to the Lord Major's delight. He turned around to those still in the vicinity, and with terse authority, flatly stated, "Right then. Grab whatever you require. We depart in seven minutes. He checked his pocketwatch, nodded to himself, and glanced out of the window again. That odd Corporal. That poor Private.

---

---

Typewriter? He needed his typewriter? To sleep? These thoughts went through Aziza's mind, not Peters. She looked at the man oddly and then recalled the meeting in the Museum. He was a journalist. Aziza suddenly felt her stomach drop. Looking over between Josephine and Haakon a look of dread came over her features. She had opened up to a woman who seemed to be rather close to this journalist. She had been attacked that evening some at least someone associated with her former husband. She was being hunted and now this entire thing with the jewelry and the inscriptions.

Being around a journalist that wanted to write a story about all of this... She felt her fear rising and she suddenly shook her head. "I... I can't go.... We must part ways here," she said quickly as she grabbed her wrap and laced it around herself in a hurried fashion. Any mention of her or anything she had gone through would easily get back to her ex-husband. Putting her life in even more danger and perhaps even her sons. She wouldn't have it.

Turning she nearly bolted through the door but was stopped by Peter, who thanks to his injury couldn't get out of the way fast enough. "Excuse me," she stuttered, fighting back tears. She was terrified at this moment.

"Ma'am.... What is it? I can promise, my uncle will keep us all safe." Peter was trying to be reassuring as he looked over towards Sgt. Walsh confused to her sudden change. She had been alright with going until a moment ago.

Aziza didn't want to explain, afraid to say anything more in the presence of the journalist or his friend. Allah what had she done? She had kept closed off for a reason. Now she had opened up and put everything she was working towards in danger. "If any of this gets back to my husband in some story I am a dead woman." Her voice was curt, cold, and terrified.

"The lord major mentioned a non-disclosure agreement. That means anything that happens cannot be spoken about or written about ever under penalty of espionage against the crown." Peter was trying to reassure her that it would be okay. Peter liked the idea of people signing one, it would keep anything from making any publication. It didn't matter ones nationality. If you signed it, it was legally binding. They would be on Englands ground within the barracks, and the English empire stretched far and wide even now. The Crown had silenced more than one person six feet under who were found guilt of such charges.


Looking over towards Haakon for a moment before she pushed passed Peter and ran down the stairs. She wasn't staying there a moment longer. She knew Peter was trying to help and put her at ease but right then she was full of dread. She had been attacked, her husband had tried to kill her once before. She'd rather run than risk anything else.

Peter righted himself from the door frame and let out a long breath. "Someone who can actually run please go after her," he said before stepping over to his uncle and then looking around the room. "Right... So, that was fun. Mr. Elvsgaard... I believe we are going to have to have a little talk before we go any further."

---

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Vera came around slowly and sat up, holding her head. She groaned lightly as she room spun. Pressing her palm against her forehead she pushed her hair back and glanced around, spotting Lauren sitting there. "I drank too much didn't I?" she said with a voice that half said she was about to hurl in a very unladylike way (as if there was a ladylike way to vomit, well there might be if you hold your pinky up. I don't know."

Sliding off the bed when she tried to stand up she just let her feet fall out in front of her. She was glad no one was around but Lauren. She thought she should be horribly embarrassed right then but her head hurt too much. She could be embarrassed when the pain was gone. Then she noticed she was in a room and had no recollection of how she got in there. Looking back over at Lauren she sighed slightly as she choked back a belch. "Did you have to bring me... where the hell are we?"

The doctor showed himself out, the door closing behind him. He had seemed rather pleased with himself for helping such a helpless woman. He left his calling card before he left and told her to call him if she ever needed anything again. A creepy wink came from him when he stated he could help with female hysteria. There was a few moments of quiet for Lady Kingston before there was a knock at the door. On the other side of it stood an older woman. She had never been introduced to Nora before but she had been around the building. It was rather clear she was the mother of the doorman who worked in the kitchen.

"Lady Kingston? I brought you some warm milk and biscuits. Heard you were having trouble sleeping, nothing helps me sleep like warm milk."

---

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Nora froze ever so slightly at the mention of confinement for hysteria. Characters such as the late George Savage preyed on female minds in those asylums, drugging and restraining until everyone left the asylum entirely changed. Female hysteria, as far as Nora could tell, was nothing more than a means of expressing societal power. It was the very threat her father used to keep her in line--behave, or off the bedlam you go. With the card in her hands, Nora glanced down at it.

"Den sórt sin fear idiotic agus sotalach! Féadfaidh sé lobhadh i ifreann!" Nora muttered under her breath, ripping up the card into shreds, and allowing them to fall onto the carpet. Her eyes fell on the medicinal supplies he had left with her, and in that moment, Nora wanted nothing more than to throw the bottles against the wall, and allow them to shatter. A mixture of anger and fear whipped through her, sending her almost into a frenzy. The thought of confinement in the asylum evoked a rage in her that Nora had never quite fully comprehended.

Picking up the bottles the doctor had left with her, Nora raised her arm back, prepared to exact her anger--only for a knock on the door to give her pause. Letting out a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment. "Calma tú féin," she instructed herself, before setting down the bottles. It'd make little sense to smash the very things that would keep her from infection, after all. Taking one last minute to compose herself, Nora approached the door, and opened it, only to spot an older woman whom she had never quite met before, but had glimpsed around the building.

"Ah, thank you," Nora replied quietly, a slight smile gracing her face. "Please do allow me to compensate you for this." She stepped back for a moment, and reached into her purse, having a few quid on hand. They weren't Egyptian pounds, but to exchange the British currency was a relatively easy and simple task. "Please do take these."

---

---

Lauren closed her eyes letting out a slight yawn as she leaned back in the chair, she then heard Vera once more which she opened them again looking at Lady Munn as she woke up. She quickly stood up making her way over towards the tray that the steward had left for them earlier, Lauren grabbed the bottle of aspirin taking two of them. Lauren started pouring a glass of water for Vera and made her way back towards the bed sitting back down on the chair. "You had about four glasses or so before you started to get intoxicated." Lauren said, as she handed the glass of aspirin and water to her. "Just take it easy, try not to move to sudden." Lauren instructed to Vera, running a hand through her hair she turned her attention back to Vera.

"We are in one of the delegates rooms in the barracks, I helped you into the room once they had set it up for you." She said with a soft smile, Lauren then started to wonder what it was that Vera had been dreaming about just moments prior from before when she had suddenly woken up. "I was wondering, were you dreaming at all because a few minutes again you had woken up and said. 'Run, run, run, got to be speedy.' It did look like some kind of nightmare do you remember any of it?" Lauren asked her.

But seeing Vera was starting to deal with her hangover, Lauren knew that her memory wouldn't be the best. She did have a feeling that it was somehow related to the nightmares that she had been dealing with along with everyone else that was in the group at the museum where they had met the others just a few hours ago in Vera's office.

---

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"Safety in numbers, indeed. I don't see a reason to postpone our departure any further then. My room's on the second floor, it won't take long for me to gather my essentials." Haakon said back to Josephine, though the remark about his belongings more so directed towards the Lord-Major; Haakon saw him as the unofficial group's leader for their short travel from the hotel and back to the barrack. For now at least. Like Josephine, Haakon didn't have an immense desire to stay at the barracks, but the concern for safety far out-weighted the comforts of his air-conditioned room.

His quick departure to his room was cut short, however, as the Lord-Major proceeded to the window and began shouting at something; or someone, as the voice shouting back logically indicated. General Papers of Non-Disclosure? It took Haakon a moment to realize what the senior Keystone meant by that; a paper, which with one's signature, prohibited the respective signer from talking or publish anything about other's that might cause them severe danger to their lives. Haakon had signed such a paper once or twice, though his reporting - in his mind at least - had never gotten close enough to put those he wrote about in mortal peril. The closest case he could think of was his reporting in Munich of the attempted coup, though the danger of their lives were more than already put at stake before his publishment.

But it was then that it dawned on him, especially once Aziza seemed to have a break-down and stating that she couldn't join them, and when Peter Keystone eye-balled him after attempting to calm Aziza down from her fear of the day's events being known to her husband; his suspicions only grew stronger once Peter directly addressed Hakon about 'having a little talk'. It was clear to Haakon what the problem was.

Him.

"...of course, Mr. Keystone, of course. Like I said, my quarters is on the second floor, if you prefer to have said conversation under four eyes?" Haakon pulled off his fedora and ruffled his hair, the now sweaty grease smudged on his palm and between his fingers. His voice was no longer as certain as it had just been.

It would seem that he had, unwillingly, dragged himself down into yet another muddy hole. It was clear to him that his 'companions' didn't trust him. While he had indeed been intending to write about this evening's events - he was a journalist after all, it payed for his daily bread -, it hadn't occured to him that his writing would put their lives in mortal peril; not more than they already were in at least, as he now thought that something like this certainly wasn't extending their life-expectancies. Aziza's reaction confirmed that mortal peril was indeed the case. The fact that it involved her supposed husband, whom Haakon had no recollection of her ever mentioning during their short time knowing of one another, hinted even further at the severity of a possible publishment.

The point was that his presence in the company was a point sore enough to make the Lord-Major have the entire group swear they wouldn't speak or write about these events in a way that put their lives at risk. What qualified as 'dangerous information', Haakon wasn't sure of; was it the mere acknowledgement of Aziza existence enough for her husband to murder her, or did it have something to do with Abbas and their little encounter not 15 minutes ago?

What he did know was that he had to be careful what he wrote down from now on; and that he had to find something else to publish while he was in Egypt, or else face his resigntion.

---

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Harry raised an eyebrow at the reporter's comments, he had thought of it himself, being able to continue his own book would have been nice, but he had no intention to actually ask about it. He supposed perhaps that the man's journalistic spirit insisted upon him asking such a question. He didn't comment regarding it however, but did take note of Aziza's rather odd reaction to the man's comments. He saw how she seemed to get distracted, concerned, and then suddenly spoke up in such a frantic and panicked manner.

As she moved to take off, he reached out as if to stop her but she had already slipped away from his grasp and been halted by the Lord-Captain who stood by the door. It was disheartening to see Aziza so panicked and afraid, momentarily his thoughts drifted back to the barracks, he wondered if to her he'd seemed in a near-identical situation when plagued with his memories. It was a thought he pushed aside for now, focused on the present as he listened to her speak to the Lord-Captain, and Peter's response in kind. Harry nodded, moving a step or two closer. "No word will get out, you'll be fine, Aziza..." He assured her with a reassuring smile, but it seems she would not have it.

He didn't need to hear Peter's comment before he began to move, seeing as Aziza took off, Harry quickly pushed by and took off after her, even had he not felt so obliged to keep her safe, he felt he couldn't rightly abandon the woman to her fate as he ran after her, hoping to catch up once she had stopped or at the very least slowed down. "Aziza, wait!" He called out, hoping at the very least that she would stop to speak to him whilst they were away from the others.

---

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She just wanted to get out of there. Any time soon would be preferred. As she waited, Aziza freaked out, claiming she didn't want her husband to hear word of anything going on. After talking to the woman, she couldn't blame her. However, she knew Haakon well enough to know that he wouldn't break his word or do something dumb like writing about these events when it would mean people like Aziza would get hurt. Before she could speak her own mind, Aziza stormed off with Mr. Walsh chasing after her. She had to smile at that.

She waved it off before turning her attention to Peter and the rest, "Really now, I am sure Haakon here wouldn't do anything against the Crown and whatnot, darling. You need only ask. And I resent the implication and, quite frankly, the attitude against him. You hardly know the man, after all, seeing as you only just met. Why not take the time after we square things away to talk and get to know one another. We'll be spending much time together, after all. Perhaps over a drink and a smoke, I really am dying for one now. Just need to pick some stuff up in my room and we can be off. Gentlemen?" She motioned for them to figure it out and get moving. She would be leaving one way or another.

---

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There was apparently the slightest of confusion concerning Reginald's motivations. He felt that perhaps he should clarify his position before they progressed any further with the evening or their fellowship. "Ah, yes... Madame, I believe in being at transparent with people as possible. I should hope that you feel the same; it is very important to me that you know from which angle of origin my thoughts lie. To that end, Miss ...ah... Clark, yes? Miss Clark, I'm afraid you misunderstand me."

"I have no worry about your friend Elvsgaard conspiring against the Crown. The Crown, in this instance, is the Stick: The large, heavy tool one uses to rectify or collect retribution in a nemesis-like fashion. My concern is the safety and privacy of persons I particularly care about - persons whose safety and privacy have been openly threatened by the presence and continued inquisitorial nature of your associate, even following the obvious discomfort said dirt-digging was causing. This preventative measure ensures that, quite frankly, if he breathes a word of what he witnesses, suspects, or even engages his typewriter, if he so much as takes a note, The Crown has full right to seek restitution for espionage. I refuse to have my family's private affairs aired for the purpose of selling periodicals, and I likewise absolutely refuse to have my friend's life endangered for that same purpose, or any other to which they do not consent."

"I am implying nothing that should cause resentment. I am not subtle. I am stating it outright, madame. But there is a spot of good news, if you feel that he is being singled out: All of you will be signing these papers, if you desire the protection of His Majesty's Armed Forces this evening. This most wholeheartedly includes you, Miss Clark. If you have continued difficulty with this concept, I have no ethical dilemma whatsoever returning to the Qsar El Nil Barracks with those whom I hold dear, and those who have (just this evening) earned my respect. The offer to the remainder of you is purely out of gentlemanly obligation. Or to put it more succinctly, as I understand you Yanks tend to prefer things in neat, simple to comprehend packages - You don't have to come along. Neither of you. It may even head off unforeseen problems, for as you so rightly observed, I hardly know either of you, seeing as we only just met. I can only trust my learned opinion, which at this hour is not as favorable as it could be."

Reginald checked his pocketwatch. Snapping it closed, he concluded, "We shall depart in five minutes. You have within that time to convince me why I should bother the risk of either of you, madame. Consider very carefully."

Perhaps it was the smile following Aziza breaking down into sobbing fear and running from the room. Perhaps it was the manner in which this ...actress... bobbed from gentleman to gentleman over the course of the evening. Or maybe it was the entitled manner in which she chose to attempt to order about people around her. Maybe it was the distinct sense that Reginald got that this young woman considered and carried herself as a social better, despite the questionable qualifications of being a societally uncontributing silver screen showperson. But the Lord Major had quite enough verbal sparring and attempted one-upmanship. Those were the terms. Period. Resent, rant, rave - it would change nothing.

He had his people to protect, and the means to do so. Any threat from without or from within would be dealt with quickly and directly. These people now had a decision to make - Were they with the Lord Major, or should he cut them loose as a bad investment of his time and effort? Whatever the outcome, his patience for this posturing was at an end.

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"No, that won't be necessary," Peter said to Haakon when he mentioned going to speak privately in the mans personal quarters. He was glad that Sgt. Walsh had taken off after Aziza, they seemed to have a decent friendship going on and the man was former Kings Military from what he had gathered so he was surely trained in combat on some level. Most sergeants were.

He was going to say more but Josephine piped in with her two shillings as it were. Biting his tongue for a moment he thought of following up but it seemed his uncle beat him to the punch. He wasn't used to the LORD MAJOR! being this vocal, well not about these things but then again he was younger the last time he had seen his uncle and his uncle wasn't seen on the job by him so much as coming back from some battle and Peter getting the harrowing tales. Reginald was Mythic in a young mans eyes, the romantic story told of wars by poets. The man before him now was the officer. He knew he had it in him he just really had never witnessed it. Well other than his uncle and his father had "fighting" words, but that was family.

Taking a breath once Reginald had finished Peter cleared his throat. "Miss Clark, if you would, let me try to add a bit to that. It is nothing personal. All who stay within the barracks have to sign. Our short little drink earlier was not enough to raise cause for signatures but the situation has changed. Even the Lady Munn would have signed one before if she stayed within the barracks. And she is of royal lines. As far as you vouching for Mr. Elvsgaard but I have two points to make on that. The first being since we do not know you we cannot take your word. Yes, you could be as honorable as his majesty and giving your word that we should trust someone. Or you could be a underground sort vouching for another. We have no way of knowing. The second, is just how long have you known the man? An American in Cairo vouching for a man not native to your country or this one? It could not have been long," Peter said in a frank manner.

It didn't help that Haakon had tried to push himself in earlier and get information that was not his to have when he first arrived. It left a bad taste in his mouth. And Peter wasn't exactly fond of Americans either. It wasn't that he didn't believe they had their virtues but they tended to be a bit boorish in his opinion. Granted that was just the general opinion of English Peers when speaking about Americans in general. Yet there was much going on and in the end Peter wanted to do what was best in Vera's eyes right then. He knew her love of Egypt, and this mystery that was unfolding (well what little he knew of it) he was sure was something she wanted to look into. Pushing these two away probably wouldn't be the best, even if he didn't have a problem with them fending for themselves.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he stepped over to Haakon. Swallowing his pride he stated something he swore he would never do. "Mr. Elvsgaard, I will strike a temporary truce with you; On the following conditions. Sign the papers and keep this out of any publications of yours ever and I will supply you with an exclusive accounting of some thing more, of my time in Germany, as long as your source remains anonymous. I give my word as a Lord and Officer of his Majesty but considering the circumstances, I will also sign a contract stating as such. Do we have an accord?"

It was the last thing Peter wished to discuss. It was hard times and something he wanted to put behind him. One persons tragedy should not be fodder for the masses as far as he was concerned. It was just rude. Yet, he was at a cross roads. Dig up his own past which he knew the papers would eat up since everyone in Europe had been trying to get a hold of the story since his return or risk what was happening with Veras investigation get out and Aziza be put in harms way. He was a gentleman, above all else. If his misery bought peace, so be it.

Thinking for a moment Peter looked over at Josephine. "And I would need you to agree to the same. Considering you two are close enough for you to vouch for him. I will require your signature as well. I would hate to later see all of this on the, how do you American's say? The Silver screen. If you both agree, Mr. Elvsgaard gets the scoop of the decade." The last thing he needed was Aziza and Vera being portrayed by some American for the entertainment of Cowboys...

Aziza was not as calm as Peter was, that was for sure. By the time she heard Harry she was half way down between the first and second floor stairs. Coming to a rough stop she rested her hand on the banister. Her head was down and her hair covering her features as it framed her face and cascaded down past her waist. Looking up slowly and over towards she looked very upset. Tears streaking down her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. She had never told Harry why she was in Cairo. After her outburst just then she felt he needed to know but she didn't want to spout it out in the middle of a stair case with people passing as they came and went from their rooms.

Right then she just groaned in frustration before lowering her head again. "I'm sorry for my tirade," she said before kneeling down and resting back against the staircase banister. Pulling her knees up and tucking them under her skirts. "I'm scared..." she admitted meekly before burying her face in her hands.

---

---

Vera groaned when she heard what happened but looked over towards Lauren confused when she said she had spoken in her sleep. "Well.. I never. I.. bollocks..." she grumbled before laying her head back on the side of the bed as she sat on the floor. "I guess I cannot say I never uttered words when I slumbered but honestly I cannot fathom what I meant." she said rubbing her temples. She wasn't exactly sure what she had meant by that. Had it meant anything at all? Or was it just a drunken stupor? Trying to figure it out was making her head hurt.

Hearing a knock on the door her head rolled to the side to look in that direction but she didn't move. If she did she might fall off the edge of the world. Or at least it felt like that. Everything was spinning. At the door was one of the stewards. "Excuse me, ladies. I have something for Miss Ridgeway to sign," he called out from the other side of the door. Once it was opened he would explain about the non-disclosure agreement that needed to be signed and that Lady Munn's signature was still active on record from her signing it months ago. She had signed several over the years. Especially when she visited Egypt. She was used to these types of things. Mums the word she teased was the Munn family motto.

"Oh posh, you keep that," the old woman said before stepping into the room and setting the tray down for her on one of the tables. "Helping someone get some sleep after dealing with that trite is payment enough for me," she said with a sly old smirk on her lips.

"I cannot stand that surgeon but sadly he is all we have currently. I had to see him for a dislocated shoulder about six months ago. Why I have no idea, my son worries." Rolling her eyes and holding her hands up in defeat. "The man got it back in all while telling me of the fragility of the female body. Fragile my back side. I birthed four sons and still walk with less problems than that man. Even suggested helping me with female hysteria! Ugh you know why us women are always blowing up? Because men are stupid boys who never grow up," she said as she as she adjusted her shawl.

"Why they keep their mothers close. You forever have to kiss their bruised ego's while they claim to know how to run things."

---

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Lauren looked at Vera when she answered her question, she wasn't sure what it meant either but it was either just some kind of drunken thing, seeing her father getting drunk thousands of times in the past was entertaining sometimes. "It's probably just the alcohol then." Lauren said with a light sigh as she gave Vera the aspirin and poured herself and Vera a glass of water. "Might want to take it now, it will take the edge of the hangover off a bit." Lauren suggested, she had gotten herself pretty drunk herself and knew that the next day hangovers were a real killer. Lauren took a sip from her own glass of water as she started to drink she heard a knock on the door, she looked at Vera for a moment before getting up from the seat.

She started to make her way towards the door, and opened it seeing one of the stewards standing in front of the door. She looked down at the sheet of paper that the man was holding in front of her. Lauren leaned forward slightly as the steward explained the non disclosure agreement. She wasn't sure why he was asking her to sign it, but Lauren had a feeling that she had to sign it which she did she grabbed the pen from him and put her signature onto the dotted line of the agreement.

Lauren also started to get the feeling that the agreement that she had just signed was something due to the group that all seemed to have been experiencing weird dreams or them getting marked. "Is there anything else you'd like me to sign?" Lauren asked the steward, she wasn't sure if he actually had more paperwork for her to sign onto aside from the nondisclosure.