[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=b8860b]Reginald Keystone[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]http://33.media.tumblr.com/76ca11af5771405a055ca9291e9e4b2b/tumblr_nvhilyU39J1qcxymno4_500.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=b8860b][b]Location:[/b][/color] Qasr El Nil Barracks [/center][hr][hr]

	[color=b8860b]"...yes yes, quite..."[/color] mumbled Reginald in response to his nephew's suggestion to take the Rolls Royce. It made sense. It was there, they were there, they needed to get from point A to point B, and what with the alarms going off, the streets might very well have cleared somewhat. [color=b8860b]"Take excellent care of these people!"[/color] he called back into the Officers' Club, and toddled in the direction of the car. 

	The Lord Major climbed in the back of the fashionable (if older modeled) internal combustion carriage and made himself as comfortable as the situation allowed. His sabre, still sheathed and in his hand prior to entering, leaned against one knee with the tip of its scabbard between his feet. Not the proper tool for engaging an enemy inside of the vehicle, granted, but impossible to keep on one's belt while venturing out in the comfort and style provided by a Rolls Royce Silver Ghost. 

	[color=b8860b]"Driver!"[/color] he said smartly to, well, the driver... [color=b8860b]"Grand Continental Hotel. Yes, we are returning. And be quick about it, yes?"[/color] Leaning his head out of the window, Reginald addressed the patrol as they began to pull away from the courtyard, [color=b8860b]"On doubletime, men! Follow to the Grand Continental!"[/color] It was better to be safe than sorry, and any single perpetrator, or even small group would think twice before engaging an armed patrol of British regulars. 

	As the car exited the front gates of the Barracks, one could clearly make out a very enthusiastic, baritone voice regurgitate out a very common phrase of recent relevance, "[i]...yes, lord [b]MAJOR[/b]![/i]"