23.08.2020 0755 CEST, Antwerp, Belgium

Most European cities early on a Sunday morning are very quiet. The only people who were around at this time of morning were the street cleaners dealing with the detritus of the previous night and early-morning churchgoers.

Lindgren's offices were located in the Eilandje area of Antwerp, located in a large white office building next to a marina shared with a string of other companies, ranging from the normal to the slightly dodgy to a company that allowed you to walk other people's dogs.

It was currently mostly empty and as the team arrived in the underground car park, all they could hear from above was the stereo of some maintenance staff.

Karl arrived first, a minute or two in front of the next person. A notepad could be seen sticking out of the cargo pocket on his grey trousers and his fingers idly fiddled with a pen. Swiping his company access card he entered the offices from the car park, started the coffee brewing and claimed his seat in the meeting room.
Somehow he wasn't surprised to see Sam had beaten everyone there, even though the cleaners were still working at this early hour. Her face showed the tell-tale signs of too little sleep, and the ream of paperwork on the table in front of her chair told the story of why.

Jack was next to arrive. Seemingly summoned by the smell of strong coffee he materialized quietly in the meeting room after passing quickly through the parking garage.

Setting his laptop up on the table he hung his ballcap on the corner of the monitor and greeted Karl and Sam.

"Mornin'"

Michael arrived at the office looking rather well.   Practicing what he preached to his soldiers, some water, Motrin and a short morning run had him feeling no after effects of their aborted evening.

He set a box of pastries on the conference table and poured himself a cup of Karl's strong coffee.

"8 years in uniform and I still fucking hate mornings," Eric said as he staggered stiff legged into the meeting room. "I swear I'm going to get a night job at some point."

He snagged a pastry before slumping into his seat. Ignoring the coffee he popped the tab on his favorite brand of cold carbonated caffeine Dr. Pepper. His shirt and pants were both wrinkled while cheap rose colored sunglasses sat in his breast pocket. Looked more like an office worker with a hangover than a decorated Intelligence Officer.

"Yegot that right Eric!" Patrick spoke out softly. He picked up a cup and filled it full and added the contents of a blue sweetener pack.
“ I’ve been working nights most of my life since High school, hell I worked a night job then.” He laughed.
He looked around the room and spotted the pasteries and moved towards them
“Target in visual “he muttered.

Karl looked at the clock on the wall, quietly ticking away the minutes.
"Oh eight twenty five," he muttered.
"Anyone seen Pfeiffer?"