You meet a lot of colorful folks working off the grid.  All kinds of interesting stories that they give you when they hire you, and even more interesting stories that they aren't telling.  But you know what you're doing, better than almost anyone else you run into.  Just because they aren't telling doesn't mean you won't hear the story sooner or later.

Your latest job looks like it will fit right in with all that.  Andre Grecocitto, a thin, well-dressed, dark-haired man who looks to be in his mid to late 40s, has hired you to run security for an upcoming meeting.  What he has told you so far is that he used to work for the government of Malta but left the country after he learned some things they probably didn't want him to know, and he is concerned that they may send someone to stop him from sharing.  His meeting is with a journalist (he gives you the name Tobias Brinkerhoff when one of you inevitably asks) to discuss exactly that.  As of now, the plan is to meet this coming Thursday, at 2:00 in the afternoon, at a "coffeeshop" in the Zuid (south) section of the city called Dikke Rups.  Today is Monday, so that does give you a little time for any preparations you might want to make.

Grecocitto pays your asking price for the job with no hesitation.  What's your next move?

"So, he's using his own security to get him to the meeting," Tyr says to the others (wherever they are).

"Our job is to make sure the meeting goes off without a hitch."

"We should put out a few feelers and see if there's any dope on the street about either the meeting or if something else is going to happen there."

"And we need to case the cafe... look for hiding places for an assassin, escape routes, access points, all that stuff."

"Any of you know anything about Malta? Will they employ a personal hit man or are they of a more modern bent--use explosives?"

Rob, who is sitting right behind Tyr, nods:
"Yes. About Malta, we should check out this Tobias Brinkerhoff. See if he's working for Malta. Also, maybe we can have them move: Andre Grecocitto meets Brinkerhoff as scheduled, but then we have them switch venues. To make planned things harder to be pulled off.
So, I'd say:
- put feelers out to see if the street is talking about Dikke Rups
- case the cafe and surroundings
- get info' on Malta, Grecocitto... and Brinkherhoff
Who does what?"

Fortunately, the little storefront that passed for an office for their 'security' work was in Oost, on Zacharias Jansestraat just off of Cornelis Drebbelstraat practically behind the Lux Garage, wasn't too far from the coffeehouse. Whereas all the other shops on the street had names emblazoned on windows and an open/closed sign hanging on the door, theirs was nondescript in keeping with their business profile. A desk in front was strategically scattered with 'important-looking' papers that were all meaningless that one of them shuffled around every other day or so to make it look like it was in use.

Behind the partition divider was the real heart of the operation--a table with chairs to have these meetings and a well-stocked refrigerator of Amstel and Heineken.

Tyr sat in one of the chairs, leaned back against the wall with his feet propped up on the table.

"I can do some inquiries on the street... about all four subjects," Tyr offered. "And I can take some preliminary photographs of the coffeehouse while I'm at it."

"Research is a bit out of my wheelhouse, though."

"Good call on Brinkerhoff. Is he the kind of journalist looking for that Pulitzer Prize-winning story? Or is he more about the money? Is he likely to have sold out Grecocitto?"

"I'm thinking it might be a good idea to see if we can get building plans for the coffeehouse as well as street plans for the area. Hell, for that matter, find out who owns the coffeehouse and do a dive on him! Starting to make me wonder why the coffeehouse was chosen in the first place!"

Galen stands to one side of the room, leaning ever so slightly against the wall his hands clasped behind his back and with one eye, as is his habit, on the door at all times.

"I can case the venue; historically I've been on the other side of this kind of op but I know what to look for. I agree that a drug den" Galen's distaste for it is evident in his voice, "seems a pretty unusual choice for this kind of meet, even in this city. Do we know who's choice it was?"

"Can't say I'm an expert on all things Maltese but I've been there before and served with some lads from that neck of the woods back in the day - it's not exactly a military powerhouse so I'm guessing they'll go for hired help rather than home grown. Might be worth putting an ear to the ground to see if anyone's been looking to book the local talent."