From ship's life to...? - Freeport 1 meeting

[Marcellus]

Freeport 1, residential tower C Omega-3

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A bluish light illuminated the ceiling of the suite. Hermann reached out, fumbling for the datapad. A laconic "she docked, 8-B, the surveillance video is linked" stood out on the screen.

"Here we are".

Schimdt pulled himself up from the sofa on which he had spent the last two hours, mulling over why he had gotten himself into this matter without mentioning it to the director and not, as he hoped, trying to get some rest after the journey from Baden Baden. He opened the video, scrolled it back and forth a couple of times and dialed a number on the screen.

"Ja?"
"Female, early thirties, dark coat. She should be already there at the moment"
"Let me check...got her sir. Do you want me to approach?".
"Yes."
"Roger that".

Hermann tossed the datapad onto the sofa, leaned back against the table, and took a couple of deep breaths.
"Here we are, really."
He moved into the next room and opened the suitcase that he had left on the bed as soon as he arrived: a 3-piece suit, brochures and maps of Baden Baden, a bulletproof vest and two pistols with as many magazines already in a holster to be worn under the jacket .
"Well, how to pass away in style" chuckled as he dressed. He took out the two weapons and inspected them: years had passed since his compulsory military service, the sensation of having a weapon in his hands again sent a shiver along his spine.

The bell brought him back to reality. He quickly put away the two pistols and just as quickly went into the other room. From a screen he checked who had rung: his contact and the woman he had talked to in the last few days were there, in front of the door.

"Thank you, Gunther, let her in."
"I'm outside if you need it. Please, Miss Steinbeck, Herr Schmidt is waiting for you."