[center][h1][Color=DF0101]Haakon J. Elvsgaard[/color][/h1]
[img]http://www.jerryjazzmusician.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/bix1.jpg[/img][/center]

[hr][center][Color=DF0101]Location:[/color]The street of Cairo, headed for the Barracks --> Qasr El Nil Barracks[/center][hr]

Haakon's coughing didn't resume the same level of sound after those first coughs thanks to him taking the inhaling a little more with ease. The fresh drag of niccotine down in his lungs had burned intensly, but the relaxing toxins they let off was starting to take effect to the non-smoker, and now he felt himself breath a little slower. 

The courtious behaviour of the legal officer wasn't something to scoff off either. For the first time since he had set foot inside the British miltiary installation, he felt that he was more than a guarded captive, perhaps even somewhat welcomed by them. Drinks and a little appitizer before their meeting with the Lord Mayor? For once the mention Lord Mayor Keystone didn't make Haakon sigh mentally, even if he didn't particularly look forward to talking about whatever they had found in his notes. 

But that could wait, as Haakon looked at Josephine with narrowed eyes and lowered brows at her comment on her interrogator wanting more than just the interrogation. He understood that neither of them would have an easy time with their respective questioners, but...that? It made Haakon sick to his stomach, or was it the cigarette? All he knew was that as they were escorted back to their quarters, he felt a growing sense of hostility towards the prison-folk. 

[Color=DF0101]"The nerve those men at the prison has, to eye you up and down like that. And to think that they...that...Jo, I hope it never came close to actually becoming physical?"[/color] Haakon said in a hushed tone to his American friend, his lowered voice clearly filled with a mix of concern and spite. 

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[hr][center][h1][color=007236]Mahendra Huq Zalil[/color][/h1]
[img]http://st1.bollywoodlife.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/rkmog-top-5-mahatma-gandhi-portrayals-on-screen-png-92679.jpg[/img][/center]

[hr][center][Color=007236]Location:[/color]The Egyptian Museum[/center][hr] 

Over-qualified. At those words, Mahendra already felt the shameful feeling of rejection at yet another position. Perhaps it wasn't his fate to work in that establishment, or in Egypt at all? Perhaps the sign of cats had been anything but a welcoming, and rather a warning? Mahendra had heard that reason for not being employed before, and so it was far from an overreaction that spurred through his mind until he was told to follow Akhmed. With a surpressed smile of surprise pressed upon his face, the Bengali man dutifully followed him through the museum after patiently waiting for the messenger to give his note and leave. 

Mahendra wasn't quite sure where they were going and what rooms they had passed, but he was doing his best to remember it for later. Less time spent wandering directionless in such a large establishment meant more work done, and all that followed henceworth. It then came as another surprise when he suddenly saw more people. One turned out to be the curator, the man either giving him a job or another polite 'good-bye'. When the curator told him to follow, his shoulders felt lighter once agan, and he walked after. [Color=007236]"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."[/color]