Reginald, Josephine, & Haakon
Location: Qasr El Nil Barracks
"Down to business, eh?" responded the Lord Major, seemingly in a genuinely good mood.
"Yes, quite. There are occasions that I politely admire the directness of the American woman; rather some American women, at any rate. In the spirit of this, I shall attempt to put aside the majority of my dallying." Reginald opened a drawer and removed a bottle of aged, single malt scotch. He poured a dram into a squared tumbler glass and motioned with the bottle, as to offer.
"For starters, madame, I am a little curious as to the state of affairs within the Prison. I have heard rumors that, with the transition of power, the Warden has become a bit more of a despot than previous years. Were you mistreated?" It was straight to brass tacks then. Josephine would let the American women comment go for now. There were bigger things to acknowledge.
"It depends on what you would call mistreated, one supposes. Physically, I believe neither myself nor Haakon was harmed in any capacity, but the man was rude, ruthless, and I dare say if I had stayed a moment longer in his office, I would have been in a rather uncomfortable position." She put a hand on her heart to emphasize her point.
"Do excuse me, sir. It's a moment I'd rather soon forget. I suppose being the Warden, you need a firm hand, but considering Haakon and I did nothing wrong other than trying to help Aziza, it seemed a tad too much for simple questioning." Nodding understandingly, the Lord Major then cleared his throat and sipped from his glass of neat, dark amber liquor.
"I see. To be frank, Miss, the Warden is a disreputable man that grew up in a legal system that is, to our experience, barbaric. However, with the decline of the direct influence of the British Empire in this area, he is trying to take advantage of a power vacuum, I fear. It was one of the reasons I wanted a representative of The Crown on standby with yourself and your reporter friend, you see. The odoriferous fellow needs pressure and oversight, else I fear the corruption will only grow." Reginald sighed.
"I have come to love Cairo, Miss Clark. And many of its inhabitants. Young Aziza is one of these people. My time on this earth remaining to me is shorter than than what has passed. We all do what we must." He cleared his throat, sipped again, and asked a pointed question.
"Considering that we cannot discuss the enterprise we are embarking upon, Miss, what motivates your participation?" Truth be told, Josephine hadn't given it much thought. She assumed she was being taken along because of the mark on her finger and her dreams. Was there more to it?
"I've come to enjoy my time here as well, even though no one seems to know who I am in these parts. Really, I'll be frank, that upsets me more than I let on, but I suppose it does make some sense. I'll admit, my motivations were purely selfish. I saw in this adventure a movie opportunity that I know people would love back home in Hollywood. However, I can see how this all needs to be kept in secret and I would not betray whatever trust was put on me. Especially by Aziza, whom you mentioned. I've come to care about the woman, as well. We girls need to stick together, as it were." She looked down at her finger,
"I'll also admit to curiosity. Why me? Why was I chosen? Why do I get these dreams that keep me up most nights? Why this mark on my finger? I'd like the answers to these questions before I even think of returning home, or I would go simply mad." The older man nodded, seeming to understand at least some of what Josephine was communicating. Though he retained guarded suspicion, Reginald was at least beginning to believe that the woman in his presence was showing vulnerable honesty. Though she was American. And an actress.
"Indeed madame, I must confess my own gnawing curiosity as to what is happening to us all. Quite possibly, this is my final grand adventure, you see. And you are also correct in your observation that you women should watch over one another. I know Aziza is a survivor, though I do not add more to her troubles. She needs genuine friends." Leaning forward, Reginald spoke in quieter tones.
"Understand, Miss Clark, that the secrecy here is also required for the success of this venture. If others knew what we were doing and why, people of lesser understanding would swarm like locusts. Besides, if we are successful in our endeavors, the story will need to be told somehow, though understandably after our dear Aziza is in a position of greater security." He almost seemed grandfatherly in demeanor.
"Just one more question as relates to our friend's well being, Miss. I need to corroborate the timetable that the lads with the Embassy gave me. Sharp fellows, those. Scientific. But I digress; when Haakon penciled the last entry into his notebook, that was in route to this military base, yes?" Josephine had to think about that for a second. She knew Haakon didn't have his journal with him after their belongings were taken and she hadn't seen him write anything else.
"Yes, I do believe that is correct." It seemed simple enough, but she wasn't sure if she just threw Haakon to the wolves.
However, her mood picked up a bit after hearing about the possibility of the story being told. Of course, Aziza would need to be protected and she wanted nothing more than to make sure the woman was looked after, but the thought that this could eventually get on the silver screen perked her up considerably. Imagine it. Herself on the big screen playing...herself! What wonders! And with the possibility of sound in movies on the horizon? Truly, this was a golden age!
She brought herself back from her daydream.
"I will do whatever is within my power to keep her safe." Though she was pretty sure the Captain that often accompanied Aziza would do a far better job.
The Lord Major's own mood seemed to brighten.
"Excellent, Miss Clark. Thank you so much for indulging an old man. Understand, the Papers of Nondisclosure are still a binding contract, but like any contract, it can expire based upon specific condition. I've no wish to stymie others' careers (even your reporter friend's), and I should prefer that this is made open knowledge for my own selfish ends, but at the right time." He finished off the contents of his glass, and switched conversational tempo.
"Well then, that wasn't so dreadful, now was it? I believe all official queries have been taken care of on your end, madame. If you are inclined toward it, please do enjoy the hospitality and security of the Qasr El Nil Barracks as my guest. Otherwise, I would be grateful for your address and contact information, so as to better assist in organizing the upcoming venture. I've a notion that a lady of your talents will be required before our time is through. Have you any questions for me?" "None at the moment, darling. If I do have one later, I'll be sure to ask. If you don't mind, I think I would enjoy your hospitality. That was a lovely tea service they provided when we got back." She took a moment to bask in the fact that her use here would be coming shortly. She stood up,
"If nothing else, I suppose I'll head out. I would prefer walking back with Haakon, if possible, but I'll wait outside for him. Shall I send him in?" Reginald nodded his head,
"Very good, very good. If you would please, just inform the guard that our meeting has concluded and take a seat, if you feel the need to wait. Otherwise, the public areas of the base are at your disposal, as is the Officers' Club if you so desire. I believe Lady Munn is having her own gathering of more scholastic persons at the Museum, just across the yard, if it so piques your interest. All that aside, do enjoy the rest of your day." He rose from his chair and extended a hand,
"A pleasure, Miss Clark." Josephine took the man's hand and firmly shook it. Possibly harder than one might have expected from her. She smiled knowingly before she walked out the door.
"Our meeting is done. I believe he is ready for Haakon now," she told the guard. She smiled at the reporter before she took a seat
"Wasn't so bad. I'll wait out here for you." She debated going to the museum to see the scholastic ones as the Lord Major put it. It might be fun.
The guard stepped away from the door to Reginald's office and turned to Haakon. A brief look was given to Josephine, somewhat quizzical in nature. Apparently, he didn't expect the starlet to remain in the lobby. Still, his task was simple. A quick sentence accented with the origins of London proper bid the reporter that,
"The Lord Major will receive you now, sir."
The guard moved smartly back to the door to the office, struck an At Attention stance, and held it open to accommodate Haakon.
Haakon looked up at Josephine as she came out of the door and sat down, trying not to act surprised or nervous for whatever was to take place soon. But her smile and nonchalant comment on it not being so bad eased Haakon a little. Perhaps he had indeed been overthinking it? He doubted it as he got up from the chair and walked up to the guard waiting for him. He figured he was either being confronted with his writing, or flogged for his behaviour towards Peter the day before. But it was now or never, as he entered the office.
"Down to business, then!" initiated the Lord Major, still seemingly in good spirits.
"Do have a seat, Mr. Elvsgaard." Reginald unstoppered his bottle of fine, aged scotch whisky, and poured another dram into his squared tumbler. Again he motioned with the bottle, offering similar libation to his guest.
"For starters, sir, I am concerned as to the state of affairs within the Prison." Reginald had the oddest feeling of deja vu.
"I have heard rumors that, with the waning influence of the Empire in Egypt, the Warden has become a bit more of a despot. Were you mistreated?" "Yes please, Lord Major." Haakon was not expecting to be treated with a glass of whiskey, but his pleaset surprise couldn't be hidden from his face as he sat down and accepted the Lord Major's offer.
"Not entirely..." was Haakon's immiediate response. He sighed, not happy to think about what had happened in the prison. Or rather what could have happened.
"The worst of it was the location of my questioning really. Someone had just been...interrogated there before me, and I suspect it was our murderous friend from last night's events. Anyhow, I was not mistreated physically; only assumed that I was a murderer, thief and low-life criminal. If I had not been a foreigner, I fear that it had been worse." "Yes, quite... foreigner..." mused Reginald, not entirely supporting the explanation given. He poured another glass of scotch and swirled it a bit before handing it over.
"Well, as I explained to Josephine a moment earlier, the Warden's upbringing in the system of jurisprudence found locally, prior to the influence of the Empire, of course, is a thing that we might find wholly distasteful. As it is presently, the influence of the Crown is waning in Egypt, though we still have teeth. The Warden understands this, and seeks to take advantage for his own gain. Nothing I might not do in the same position, though I consider myself a fairer man than he. It is that exact reason why I insisted upon the soldiery accompanying you and your actress friend to the prison. Oversight and pressure, you see." He took a sip from his glass, and switched direction with the conversation.
"A question, if you would be as kind as to indulge. Considering that this business cannot be discussed outside of others already involved, what motivates your continued participation?" "Yes, that does sound like a good explaination." chuckled Haakon, gladly accepting the glass of scotch and taking a brief sniff of it. Still not a good French liquer, but good enough. The British still having armed forced in Egypt, protecting the people the warden questioned, yes that did sound like a better reason to go soft on them. Gunboat diplomacy at its finest.
"My motivations? Well, I guess finding out the cause for this branding..." Haakon answered to the Lord-Major, holding up his hand with the branded finger. He still felt an unease about it, even with the pain gone.
"...including what seems to be an disproportionate number of coincedences the past days. And if I may be honest, Sir?" He paused, leaning forward in a manner of seriousness and secrecy, though he doubted they were being listened to.
"To be given the story of the century by Sir Keystone, Peter, as he put himself yesterday. But I've decided to kindly retract his offer, to show that I am not merely in this just because of my own interest." Reginald took another sip, letting the subtleties of the whisky linger on his palate for a moment before continuing.
"Indeed, sir. One cannot embark upon every adventure purely for one's self. It is a fine lesson, and I am glad to see that you are learning it in your younger years." He set the glass down on the desk in front of him, continuing,
"It is much the way I feel about certain persons within Cairo at this time. Secrecy has a way of assisting success and saving lives, as any soldier will tell you. The less people know about our little venture, the better chance that we shall remain unmolested by less ethical entities. Further, because of Aziza's involvement, it ensures her safety. You do not know her situation, sir. I shall not tell you. Suffice it to say, I have come to care a great deal for her and will continue to do what I must to assist her. To that end, I have a question." Taking a careful, searching look at Haakon, Reginald nodded slightly before addressing the man.
"The last entry in your journal: Was it entered before or after we came to our agreement in the hotel?" And so it had come to That; the very center of this Greek play of drama, where the hero would either triumph over his titanic struggle or succumbe to it in a grave manner. Haakon's eyes didn't drift away from the Lord Major, though he wanted to have something else to look at as he quickly pondered on what his answer should be. He looked up for a brief moment, took a sip of his glass, tasting the smokey liquid against his tounge and further down his throat, before he looked back at the Lord Major.
"Considering we're having this very conversation, Sir, I am afraid it was written after our oral agreement at the hotel. I wrote it as we drove here. I tried to gather my thoughts after all that had happened, which cliché as it sounds, involved writing down Miss Tarek's name. Looking back at it, I see it was foolish, even if it was just a note for me to apologize to her for whatever distress I caused her." Haakon breathed out, both glad and partly scared to have this conversation now. Like jumping into the icy waters, it was best to just do it and get over with it.
"I see." said the Lord Major flatly.
"I appreciate your candor at this time, sir. However, such was not the act of a gentleman. I fear that my trust in future reliance of yourself may be strained from this. However, you did not violate the letter of our arrangement on paper, so official action is not warranted. But be advised, I shall do what I must to protect Aziza, official or no. The Warden and I share a working relationship, if not a perfectly amicable one." Another sip, another nod in Haakon's direction. Reginald lifted the bottle again, inquiring,
"Top you off, lad?" and continuing with,
"Have you any questions for me, concerning the Barracks or the upcoming expedition?" "Understandable, Lord Major, understandable." Was Haakon's short response to his figurative scolding. It was not painful, but perhaps a bit shameful, regardless of what Haakon meant by his words.
"Now that I better understand Miss Tarek's concern, I understand." Haakon took another sip as well, wishing not to dwell to long in tense moments of silence. Another one before the Lord Major offered him more, to which he shook his head and gave a politive smile.
"Thank you, but not no thanks you, Sir. Perhaps another time. But I have one question in regards to the expedition; to what use am I best put to? Or is that Lady Munn's decision to make?" "As you prefer." remarked Reginald, corking the bottle of fine whisky and closing it away in a desk drawer.
"I assure you sir, you do not know the extent to Miss Tarek's concerns. Nevertheless, so long as we are on the same page, I shall concede that you have some base understanding as to the importance of silence, on this and other matters, in perpetuity. Or until her (and our) situation alter favorably to the extreme, to be determined by herself and myself in tandem agreement. His voice dropped lower, taking on a matter-of-factly note.
"In the meantime, I shall ask that you reflect upon every possible meaning of my previous words, and how it can influence your stay here in Cairo. Not to mention how long that stay might become." "But let us not dwell on the negative, sir!" he continued, suddenly seeming much more chipper.
"The contents of your musings shall be scrutinized by the Embassy, for matters of diplomacy of course, and returned when everything is established to be perfectly safe and canny. For the interim, please enjoy the hospitalty the Qasr El Nil Barracks. The public areas are at your disposal, as is the Officers' Club. As for your role in this, I am not the person to ask at the moment. I am merely playing the role of Quartermaster, sir. The Lady Munn is in charge of this expedition; she is presently located at the Museum, a stone's throw from this location. "Our potential unpleasantness aside; good day, Mr. Elvsgaard." 
