It took all of Remington's willpower to restrain a facepalm. By all the gods, if Agent 122 had squealed, he was going to get violent with him later. "Mr. Barber, I am not entirely sure what you mean. I have no secrets to hide, I am simply asking you to go up to your room and show me your desk. This is for the good of the community as a whole. Foreign powers wish to use your research to malicious ends, and it is in the royal family's right to confiscate it for the good of all of Rostguard. Now, if you are not willing to comply, my men here will be more than happy to esc - oh, by Pelor, I’ll just look for it myself. He turned to his guards, looking particularly at a burly fellow with a battleaxe. “You stay here and make sure no one leaves the room. Understood?”
“Aye, sir.” As Remington ascended the steps, the axe man chortled and clapped an iron-clad hand over the barber’s face. “I’m jus’ doin’ me orders, sir.”

The door creaked as Remington stepped into Elric’s study. He turned a bit to his left and saw something that was not foreseen in Plan B. “Uh, hello, little girl. Do be quiet while the nice man searches for something in Mister Elric’s study, okay?”