Montag simply observed Carol as she stalked around him, an animated predator waiting to strike her stoic and unyielding prey. He didn't pay much heed to her sharp words, while he set the plate in his hand on a shelf to the side, and instead set his sights on her intriguing snake tattoo. It seemed to dance around in fleeting movements on her neck, though the detective couldn't tell whether that was just a trick of the eye or if there was something more to these marks. Whether it seemed to move or not though, it felt to Eduard as though the tattoo gazed at him, like some parasitic entity waiting for its next victim. 

And that's when Montag also became aware of the other sets of eyes on him, from outside of the tightly spaced room he found himself in with Carol. He felt almost a sense of relief. Some help in getting her out of the way without too much of a fuss was exactly what he needed at this point. But, as though fate was amusing itself with the young man's struggle, it didn't take Eduard long to notice their own marks dotted on their respective bodies. They all depicted the same image as Carol's: a snake coiled around a dagger's hilt. The snakes seemed to bare their fangs at the undercover waiter, all shimmering and moving in a similar manner.

[color=goldenrod]"If you're looking for a cop, then I'm afraid you've got the wrong guy. Probably just have one of those faces."[/color] Montag replied, cool as ever, though he was almost taken aback by Carol's musing. He was almost certain that he'd never met, or even seen, this woman in his life. That being said, despite his fairly sharp memory, many of the names and faces that he'd seen, or even been acquainted with, during his time with the police blurred since he'd left it. Almost like it had all been a dream, where the right thought or trigger could cause you to remember, but otherwise it was just bits and pieces. It was something he wouldn't properly dwell on for too long. 

All of a sudden, Carol was behind him with a practiced agility that any hardened cop or criminal would associate with danger. Eduard stood completely still though, unmoved and seemingly unfazed, staring off in front of him as if she'd never moved. Even as she leaned into his ear to speak directly to him, getting so intimately close that he felt her warm breath run down the side of his face, he didn't even twitch. 

And then, Carol stopped speaking. Despite the sounds of hustle and bustle going on in the kitchen, and even distantly outside, the world seemed completely silent to Montag in those moments, where nothing was said. It was in those moments, that he bowed his head slightly, directing his eyeline to the floor enough so that his body was still mostly in his peripheral vision, and his hands slipped down casually into his pockets. His right hand descended ever so slightly lower, feeling out the pistol holstered to his leg and taking a light, but firm grip on it. Countless thoughts and outcomes of possible actions raced through his head like a bullet as his index finger edged closer and closer to the trigger, and-

He felt Carol's hand push him forward from his back, completely interrupting his train of mind. He snapped back into first gear, abruptly releasing his grip on the pistol and bringing his right hand up by an inch, away from it. The push forced him forward only by a pace, but the message was clear. Unless he made things needlessly chaotic, he wasn't going to win this one. Not yet at least.

Letting out a small sigh, Montag took up the plate once more before speaking, [color=goldenrod]"My job is to serve. That's all. Don't put yourself in my way, and I won't put myself in yours, whoever you are. Now, if you don't mind, I'm getting a new dish of steak. This one's gone cold."[/color] And with that, he walked out of the laundry room, doing his best to ignore the eyes that continued to stare at him, until he was lost again in a mirage of smoke, steam and flame. 

Barring everything else that had just happened, at least now he knew the direct way up to Marie. The next thing now was to get up there, preferably without being noticed by Carol and the other tattoo-bearers. He walked through the busy aisles of the kitchen again, trying to mix in with the crowd while calculating his every move to make sure he didn't make himself noticeable. Apart from that, the next thing that was on his mind was the guarded staircase, which he was gradually getting himself closer and closer to. He peeked over and around heads and shoulders to get a premature view of it, and the guards that stood before it. Eduard moved with a slight sense of haste. If Carol and her associates were the real threat here, then at this point he knew there wasn't much time left. The stakes were high and the clocks were most certainly ticking.