“Coffee, sir, hjocoa?” Guy asks the black-clad captain entering sombrely.
Matsiyan eyes the little ceremony down the bar.
“No, Guy, thanks. I’ll have what they… what he is having.”
When the pint glass arrives he reaches in and clinks it carefully against the lone one on the bar.
“Good flying.”
He lifts it to the other two and takes a good swallow.
“I’m so glad the Section work brings me here now. Any word on the arrangements?”