A Cafe on the Mainland, Thursday Evening

The handwavy phonecall had him a little worried, but, "Meet me on the mainland," was at least nowhere near as bad as it could be. After all, in his line of work, "GET HERE NOW WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" was a distinct possibility.

He sat down at booth, sipping at his tea -- black today, with lemon balm and rosehip, and just a slight drizzle of honey -- while he waited for his companion.

[For the one, and NFB due to distance.]