Robert looked at the retreating form of the ex-phantom, and sighed. It won't do, I need to be patient. It's unfair to expect them to understand anyway.
Having thought that, he rose and called out, raising his voice.
Nikolai heads to the bartender and asks for the finest vodka in the house. The bartender hands him a small glass.
"Is that it? Give me the bottle for Christ sake!"
Having no seat in the corner, Nikolai sits in the middle of the bar, drinking. After a while, Nikolai, drunk, starts blabbering and looks at Admiral D'Souza:
"Eh...What?"
He drinks some more and falls into the ground, unconscious.
In a lonely corner of the Toledo bar, a woman in a black trenchcoat sat. Nobody seemed to notice her, as if their brain didn't want to see her sitting there. As she moved a little, her form wavered in color and shape, as if made of liquid. She smiled slightly as 'her' mind filed and catalogued everyone in the base, and everything anyone mentioned.
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.