[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 Docks -> Onboard the boat
[Color=007236]Skills:[/color] N/A[/center][hr] 

It was going to be good to get away from the events that had shaken the whole Fellowship in Cairo,  even though Mahendra was sure to miss the city for the good memories he'd gotten from it. Mahendra had at least gotten one positive thing out of the whole endeavour so far: Employment, though hopefully it would not lead to the death they'd experienced so far. Once in one of the cars taking them down to the docks, Mahendra watched as the scenery changed from the inside of the automobile. The barracks were replaced by the familair Cairo streetview, vendors and carts littering the street alongside natives and foreigners alike, not having changed between the two times Mahendra had spent there. How long would it be till he once again saw the streets of Cairo? Would he see it again at all? Mahendra shuffled in a state between being comfortable in his seat and being uncomfortable with the thoughts of never returning. 

The docks were a madhouse indeed, but Mahendra saw it as a calmer madhouse rather than a fully-fledged asylum. It was just as tightly packed and lively as Calcutta on a busy day, but with less elephants and more ships. Mahendra climbed out of the car, again feeling the dizzyness and burning brand still affecting him like before, causing him to hold onto the car for a moment as he steadied himself. Eventually he managed to straighten himself and board the boat, be it slowly and steadily. Vera's lecture about the city of Zagazig he didn't manage to pick up much from, trying to not fall of the gang plank, even if he would have found the subject interesting. Turning to the closest of his companions, the tired Mahendra asked [Color=007236]"There wouldn't happen to be somewhere I could, well, lay down?"[/color] Mahendra held his hand to his head, as if to stop the world from spinning further around. [Color=007236]"I do believe I'd need a few moments…hours, just to be up and running again."[/color]

[hr][center][h1][color=#255DB3]Richard Barker[/color][/h1]
[img]http://westernscreen.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/a_chinatown1974.jpg[/img][/center]

[hr][center][Color=#255DB3]Location:[/color]Onboard the boat (Second-story rails)
[Color=#255DB3]Skills:[/color] N/A[/center][hr] 

[Color=#255DB3]"Let me ask you something, Kid."[/color] 

Standing in-between the number of passangers looking out on the docks and surrounding view from the second story of the steamboat, Richard stood leaning forward on the rail, his gaze observing the military personell unloading their trucks and doing whatever it was they were doing. The detective's eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and  sheltered underneath a wide-brimmed fedora, while the bandages wrapped around his nose made him stick out like a painfully sore thumb in a church. Richard took a good, long drag from his cigarette as he continued to look out from the second story, as if waiting for the young lady's permission to ask a question. Without looking at her, he finally asked it. 

[Color=#255DB3]"What do you think we'll find up there, in Zagazig, just for arguments sake?"[/color] Richard asked, placing the cigarette back in-between his fingers as he straightened himself up and looked towards the lady standing beside him on the railing, Faye Masterson. [Color=#255DB3]"I know there's a solid chance that Mr. Gould actually spent some time up there, good job catching that up by the way Faye; say he was there sometime before or after he caught whatever snuffed the life of him. What do you think we'll find?  If you ask me, that little sniff of motive that could explain this little puzzle, that would be nice. With our luck, though, I doubt it."[/color]

Richard could feel the eyes of the passangers around them stare him in the neck, ice-cold glares that were aimed at him and his sore thumb; his nose. He hated it, the looks, judging him and his ugly nose. It was only made worse by the large number of people crammed around him. In New York he felt that most people ignored you, if you had a cut nose or not. In this foreign land it felt worse. Richard took another long drag of the cigarette in his hand, trying his best to ignore it. It was little reason to get into trouble, especially with Faye around him. She would just get hurt, and he didn't want that. [Color=#255DB3]"You think we'll finally have a break?"[/color]