The night was starting to wane, sure, but he was here. Lillian was here. Everything was fine.
He watched as a girl came in, holding a plate of croissants, and bringing it near the Directeur. No doubt Lefevre and LeGloan would be upon them soon enough.
Again the Lieutenant walked in to that charming little cafe.
His wife was not with him today, however. He had told him that he needed to be alone tonite, that something troubling had occured. She had understood, but, still...Perrot hated to leave her like that. It made him feel...dirty, almost.
He also had his violin, again, although he was holding it a bit tighter.
Perrot glanced around the place, looking for an open table. Ah, there. A round table, with 4 chairs.
Amid the hubbub of the rather busy cafe, he carefully slid into his seat, placing the violin case next to him, gently.
Sous Brigadier Lefevre was approaching the Cafe d'Obervateur d'Etoile, as per usual after a day on duty. Today was different, though. He had been requested by Lieutenant Perrot to meet at the Cafe at 20:00. Today was supposed to be his day off, but one of Perrot's men was unable to come and for whatever reason, Lefevre drew the short straw.
It hadn't been a bad day on the whole, but Lefevre was pretty sure he knew why Perrot would want to talk.
Lefevre entered the Cafe and saw Perrot sitting at a table already, his violin case at his feet.
"Even on business, the man never leaves his violin at home." Lefevre thought as he waived acknowledgement at Perrot. "I'm just happy we settled thing earlier. I'd rather have the violin over the sword any day."
Lefevre walked over to the counter and got his coffee and croissant - Both were fresh and steaming. That should make up for the absence of last night's.
Food in hand, Luc walked over to Perrot's table, placed his items down, pulled out a chair, and sat across from the Lieutenant.
Lucas Gerald dragged down the corridor, hands in pocket. He was a fairly tall man, skinny, with a small shaggy goatee growing on his chin. He was wearing a old tan trench coat over some loose clothes. He had his old beret on, the same tan colour as his coat, on his head.
He walked into the Cafe d'Observateur d'Etoile and took off his beret, sighed, and walked over to get his coffee at the counter. As he was leaving, he grabbed two croissants and walked over to a table where two gentlemen were sitting and gave himself a seat.
Amelie awoke with a start, and nearly jumped and ran from her place.
She smiled, though, and merely checked personal datapad. It was her day off.
She strolled over to the counter, purchased a hot cup of decaf, and left for her quarters.
But a thought passed through her mind as she left: "I really need to stop falling asleep here..."
A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay,
brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
Perrot watched as Gerald sat down, near Lefevre. He sipped on his coffee.
He slipped out a small metal square, with a glass top, from his pocket, and set it on the table.
"Now, monsieurs, I believe we all know why we're here..." He paused, looking Lefevre in the eye, and then gerald.
"Before we begin, I'd like to assure you of something...there is no blame on you. What happened today was terrible, but it happened under my watch. You both served above and beyond your orders, and you shall not be punished for it. All blame...is on me..."
He sipped his coffee again.
"With that said - it was still a failure. We still let two hostile ships infiltrate deep into our territory, under our watch, and we didn't manage to stop them." He looked at the coffee in his cup, clenching his jaw.
"As you both know, I DON'T like failure. It makes me mad. It...frustrates me, ms amis."
Perrot tapped the square, bringing forth a holographic projection, suspended in the center of the table. In the projection, there were various profiles, showing Police and Naval officers.
"Earlier today, there was a report of two vessels - a Council vessel, and one of unknown origin - attacking and destroying Royalist ships. Some were recovered alive, others dead...and then these men..." He gestured towards the projection.
"They...are believed to have been captured by the enemy ships..."
He clenched his jaw once more, and then took a good-sized gulp of the coffee.
Gerald sat awkwardly in his seat as Perrot laid out what has happened over the course of the day. He twitched slightly whenever he said it was a failure or that he took all responsibility. He attempted to drink his coffee, but found it too hot and put it back down.
"Oui, it sounds like our fellows... You know it was my fault that they got away right? I should of trailed them more." he said with a casual tone, almost sounding sorrowful but not quite.
He looked at the food in front of him and the coffee, and stared at it like it might cool down if he did.