[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] The Museum - Vera's Office -> Qasr El Nil Barracks - Courtyard
[color=b8860b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr][center][hider=Qasr El Nil Barracks]
[img]http://english.ahram.org.eg/Media/News/2015/12/16/2015-635858681525689318-568.jpg[/img]
[color=dimgray][sub]Egyptian Museum located at the top right, diagonally across the street from the Barracks.[/sub][/color]
[/hider][/center]

	It was with some relief that Reginald found the packages and items clearly marked for their extended outing precisely where they were left, just scant minutes ago. He had half expected some hooded figure to leap from the shadows and abscond with more of the artifacts that Vera and Nora were poring over, but not before dramatically twirling a handlebar moustache and issuing a full belly laugh. Perhaps there would have been a puff of oddly colored smoke accompanying the daring escape of said villain, along with a few bars of organ music. Considering the unpleasant happenings and the strange dreams that had been following him, or rather all of them, it wouldn't have been all that shocking to the Lord Major. 

	But no, it was a simple matter of a few armed men lifting a number of boxes and bags, while a few more armed men stood nearby being, well, armed. All the while, a generally vocal Corporal kept himself uncharacteristically subdued. Maybe he remembered his manners and was using his "inside voice", or was being respectful of the Museum overall. One would as soon scream the alphabet song in a public library or hurl a brick through a church window as disturb the perceived sanctity of the Cairo Museum. One would hope, anyway. 

	Reginald directed traffic as best he could, given the fact that there wasn't a while lot in that regard to direct. A simple [color=b8860b]"No no, lad. That's just a paperweight."[/color] or [color=b8860b]"The box with the chalk lettering, yes."[/color] sufficed plenty for the purposes of selection and hauling. Past that, a steadfast, [color=b8860b]"Mind the doorframe, there's a good fellow."[/color] was the last bit of sage advice necessary to have them underway. The sound of solid boots setting upon the floor in unison heralded the departure of the Lord Major, the distinguished Corporal, and a squad of uniformed Englishmen. Back out of the Museum, through the front doors, and out across the flat, sand-blown lot between the main gate of the Barracks and the Museum's entrance. Reginald stopped before the Curator very briefly, bowed and extended his hand for a shake, intoning, [color=b8860b]"The offer still stands, my good sir. Do be careful this evening."[/color]  

	Within the space of three minutes, the cadre of British regulars found themselves back inside of the Qasr El Nil Barracks. Reginald stayed in the courtyard as the remainder of the men saw to the artifacts. He had a lot on his mind, not the least of which being the safety of his dear nephew, Peter. He took in a lungful of Cairo's nighttime air and held it for a moment, allowing the start of strain to accumulate in his chest before blowing it back out. He wished he could [i]do something[/i] about all of this. But no, the old war hero was relegated to his tasks without the ability to do more for his own kin. It was a touch worrisome.