[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=b8860b]Reginald Keystone[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
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[hr][center][color=b8860b][b]Location:[/b][/color] Qasr El Nil Barracks [/center][hr][hr]
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	Still laying supine upon the floor of his office, Reginald sighed. He could feel a warm rivulet of blood slowly descending the side of his face, courtesy of his very dignified nose making forcible contact upon his grandiose English Oak desk, thanks to his own lack of propriety. He had even braced for it, and failed miserably to hold his demeanor together for the sake of receiving a visitor, and good friend of Peter's to boot. 

	It was not the fault of the horribly disfigured man. As an Officer of the British Military, one of experience and renown, Reginald should have been able to handle this as a trifle of an undertaking. He had seen men hurt and shattered in the line of duty to the Crown, but it was generally during the fight or just after, when the blood was still hot and one expected to see carnage. The painful, wet messiness of battle was what the Lord Major had witnessed. Not the effects of it years later, and certainly not the actions taken to (ironically) normalize the excessively afflicted. 

	The Lord Major reached for a pocket square, dabbing the blood away from his face before it reached his ear and/or threatened to stain his clean, pressed collar. Then gingerly, he inspected his nose. The level of pain that his nerves reported back was not on par with that expected of a bone break. He should know; Reginald had been in more than his share of brawls and less-than-gentlemanly altercations in his long and varied history. A busted nose every now and again was part of the territory. Luckily, this was not the break he had been fearing. A moment of pressure in the right spot would have the flow of crimson stymied in no time. 

	Immediately after that quiet moment, an aged but still strong hand rose from behind the centrally positioned desk and quietly clamped onto the side, pulling along the ascending Lord Major. [color=b8860b]"Yes, deadly tea, quite..."[/color] he murmured quietly, appearing to agree with the assessment of his guest. He then appropriated a look of revulsion; this time not for George, but for himself and and dishonest road with which he began the conversation. [color=b8860b]"No. Heavens no. Sir, I owe you a great apology. While the unfortunate fall from which I have just recovered did happen quite by accident, it would not have were I to have maintained the fortitude and worldly understanding demanded of my family and my position, let alone the basic compassion that any human being should exhibit. I have acted woefully, Mr. Benaszewski, and I apologize. If you might be able to forgive my potentially continuing failings as I acclimate to your presence, I shall remain at your service in any way that is reasonably appropriate."[/color] 

	Reginald held out his hand to George again, this time more steady on his feet. [color=b8860b]"Perhaps we ought to start again, sir. I am the Lord Major Reginald I. Keystone of His Majesty's Royal Military, Commanding Officer of the Qasr El Nil Barracks and Airfield, representative of the Crown here in Cairo. Perhaps we might renew our discourse with a spot of tea? Or perhaps something stronger, if it is to your liking?"[/color] [hr]

	The ride from the Prison to the Barracks went relatively smoothly, except for the occasional hold up with traffic. The legal officer behind the wheel said nothing for the longest time, while the Corporal made some offhanded mention about the waning influence of the British Military here in Cairo. "Oh, we still got a big stick 'ere in Egypt, mind ya, but its not like before, you see. Social change on the winds, it is." 

	Nearing the Museum very close to their destination, the number of stray or otherwise present felines seemed to multiply, with many milling about or perched everywhere there was room to do so, almost as if waiting for something. The soldiery was uncertain as to whether it was the immediate cause for the detour, though Legal made mention of it in a derisive manner, leaning over to the passenger's seat, "Looks like the derelicts will be eating good tonight, eh Corporal?"

	"Oh, no sir!" he retorted. "We loves the cats around here, smell notwithstanding when you get a group of 'em in one spot. Chase the rats away, they does; keeps all sorts of nastiness like the Pox at bay. Egypt don't need more plagues, I'll wager."

	As they finally made their way to the main gate of the Barracks, the two garrisoned soldiers ensured a smooth transition inside. Once the gates closed behind them, the Corporal spoke up again. "Right then! I'm going to go check in with the [i]Lord [b]MAJOR[/b][/i]! I advise you lot do the same once you're all freshened up and whatnot. Rooms from last night been touched up, or should o' been by now. Good day to ya!"

	With that, the Corporal began jogging off to return to his duties, leaving the Legal officer to replace the car in the Motor Pool and the two passengers to fend for themselves.