Draig waited alone in this room that was passable by very relaxed motel-going standards. He had gotten two extra chairs, one for each incoming visitor. The afternoon light cast a modest glow around the edges of the closed exterior curtain. He felt restive, antsy beneath calmly-held posture. With all that had happened, the investigator had not yet had occasion to report in person, now uncharacteristically with someone who he termed his associate. It could be something, or something else. A lot was happening at this moment in time, and it was almost a getaway to do this shadowy errand himself. Still, this was his sole responsibility.

This motel looked halfway to a halfway house, with not very many guests judging by the vehicles. As clandestine as anyplace. Dalib’s arched eyebrow was eloquent as he glanced over at his partner. Derringer evinced a steely smirk before tucking it back under a serious clarity. Even when he thought his job was done, he made a practice of no assumptions – except that the security here was probably better than it appeared.

The pair approached the place casually, in their office workday attire. Derringer led them to the correctly numbered room with a closed curtain. He examined the edge of the doorway before he did the traditional thing and knocked. The door opened inward with the obscured opener behind it. They went ahead and walked in, eyes adjusting to the dimmer indoor lighting.

Shutting the door softly, General Claymore glanced between the two men. All stood looking at each other for a quiet moment.

Three chairs in the room. With a wordless outstretched hand, the General offered them the separated pair. Derringer took a few relaxed steps over to them, where he paused standing. He offered Draig the third chair with the same gesture. Might need it, huh? The still-unintroduced bowler hat partner stared mildly, continuously at the General. Poised by their chairs, all three of them nodded to each other before sitting.