The Alcatraz depot lounge and pub

[Reverend Del]

Sylpheed walked into the bar amid more hushed whispers from his Rogues. They never knew whether he was here for a drink, here to shout, or just here to find someone. Today, though he was here for a drink. Seing Mort and ashes sitting together, he nodded at his second-in-command. Turning to the barman he ordered a bottle of Maltese brandy.

"Stick it on the tab."

"Sir, you've not paid your tab in about three months." The barman said pointedly.

"And?" Sylpheed gave him a glare that could have cut diamonds and the barman sagged visibly from it.

"Nothing." He said as he placed the bottle on the bar and handed the Rogue Boss a clean glass, "Enjoy your drink"

Sylpheed walked over to the table, giving a perfunctory smile to the young Rogue. He turned to his second.

"Mort we've got a problem. Less traders are paying up and we're getting the short end of the stick as far as the local law goes. In short we ain't making ends meet. Not to mention the fact that two of our convoy's have gone missing in the last week. Now that could be a coincidence but my gut says otherwise. The last one was heading through Vespucci and Humoldt, Mactan control reports it passing them at 21:00 zulu last night, but it never reached Forteleza base for it's refuelling stop. Only Rogues knew where that convoy was headed, only Rogues knew it was headed at all. So my guess is we got a mole. Find him."

Sylpheed poured brandy into both the empty glasses on the table. Turning to the young woman, he smiled and asked "Want some. it's good stuff."

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Saint Del is considered a holy healer of diseases of children, but also as a protector of cattle.