Prologue

An Asian man wearing a black suit and red tie was sitting alone at a table for two. He was around the age of 50, had brown eyes and black hair. Well, what was left of his hair, anyway; he was balding. The restaurant was Chinese themed. Whilst every single table in the restaurant was taken, the sound level was quite pleasant. The soft buzzing of the people in the restaurant gave a nice and cozy touch. The man was slowly eating his shrimps. The East Asian tunes were very distinctive, almost cliché. He was seated next to the large window which looked down the street. He briefly looked outside. It was dark and it rained. He looked around the restaurant. Everyone seemed to have a good time with the people they shared their table with except for an older man and woman who silently ate their food, with a morbid look on their face. He wondered what they had gone through. Perhaps lost a family member. He could also look directly in the kitchen, where several men were preparing all the orders that the one waitress would pass on to them. Just one waitress. This looked like a good running restaurant in the middle of London, and yet, on a Saturday evening, they only had one waitress running around like mad. When the waitress noticed the man looking at her, she approached his table.
"Could I get you anything else, sir?" she asked politely. She was an English girl, probably around 25, blonde hair and blue eyes. So far for the Chinese theme.
"Yes, dear, you could." The man was sitting up straight and only slightly turned his head to the right while looking at her with a smile. "Another water with ice would be great, thank you."
"Certainly, coming right up!" she smiled and turned around, almost with a twist. Admirably, she's serving 12 tables on her own and did not show a sign of stress.
Another man had joined him at his table, but the Asian man did not look up at him, he instead turned to his shrimps. The little plate where he deposited the shrimp tails began filling up. The other, caucasian, man was wearing a black sweater and dark cargo pants.
"She still lives in the mansion." the recently joined man said, with a British accent.
"Congratulations." said the man with the red tie, still not looking up. "You're capable of doing something that anyone with half a brain and internet access is capable of doing."
"And" the man with the black sweater continued, slightly frustrated at the other man's remark. "We've followed her around for a couple of days. She comes outside far more often than two months ago."
"I've asked you to make an assessment of whether or not she's ready for first contact. Not publicly available information."
"That's a hard assessment to make if you only allow us to follow her outside of her house now and then. If you let us bug her hou-..."
"No." the man with the red tie interrupted him. He lowered his voice. "This is a very delicate situation, if she finds out we've been following her, everything is ruined."
"Here you go, sir!" the waitress placed the water on the table, and then turned to the other man. "Could I get you anything?"
Her smile quickly disappeared when the man with the red tie abruptly told her that he's fine and didn't need anything.
"Okay, let me know if you need anything else." She walked away, almost offended.
"She seems to participate in society somewhat normally nowadays. And I think that's as much of an assessment you're getting without looking into her life more." said the man with the black sweater.
"What about her friend?"
"Won't be an issue, she'll come along."
The man with the red tie swallowed his last shrimp, put the tail on the now full little plate and used his handkerchief to clean his mouth. He looked up at the man.
"Well then, I think it's time to begin."