Nate had never been as fond of bar scenes as Sully. As they walked through the door of the Brass Button, he was reminded of why. Walking in from the chill of night they encountered the warm, stale air of the dingy little pub. Nate wrinkled his nose at the stench of sweat and cloying tobacco. Sully's cigars he could tolerate, rich with aroma hinting of spice from whatever country he favored for them. Whatever the patrons were lighting smelled of cheaply processed tobacco. The atmosphere of the establishment matched its odor; dirty and cheap. Walls once paneled with rich pine stood dingy and yellowed; beams overhead for the roof showed worse wear, bowing and giving way to rot. What little furniture peppered the pub looked shoddy and mismatched, befitting of the clientele. In the far left corner two seadogs sat, downing pints and eyeing them disinterestedly before returning to their conversation. Not far from them was a man in tatters, skulking about the pub with the spaced look of a junkie. His gaze was fixed on the woman tending the bar, a busty brunette chatting up a gentleman at the counter while handing him a drink.

Sully caught the look on Nate's face and chuckled, clapping him on the back. "Don't worry, we aren't here for looks."

"I sure as Hell hope not."

The bartender glanced in their direction, nodding to them both and looking over to the door on her right. Nate walked towards the door as Sully meandered over to the bar, leaning on the counter.

Nate looked to Sully in disbelief. "Are we not in the middle of something?"

Sully shook his head with a smile. "Cathy here knows me well. Maybe even a little too well." He winked.

He held a hand up, "You know these people?"

"Yeah. Just didn't know they moved down here." Sully eyed Cathy with a cocked eyebrow. "If I knew where they ran off, I'd have made a phone call."

The woman spoke with a chortle, batting her eyelashes at Sully playfully. "Aye, you leave Victor to me. I fancy through that door is what you've been after." She grabbed a glass from underneath the bar, busying herself with pouring a pint for Sully. "Just make sure you keep it short. He gets his knickers in a bunch when impatient."

"Uh, right then." Nate turned, grasping the door handle and pushing through. The hall before him was dim, but short. He let the door close behind him, Sully's laughter the last thing he heard before silence. Walking forward he came to a heavy curtain. As his hand extended to push it aside, it flew open in a dusty huff. Nate jerked back quickly, and the man before him appeared to shake in head in contempt.

"No nerves, these young lads… Got nothing you can prove if you can't stand your ground." He muttered.

"Startled, that's all," Nate raised his hands in front of him, opened in a calm gesture. "Do you know Sully?"

The man said nothing, simply shuffled back through the curtain, flipping a switch on and cursing incoherently. As light illuminated the room, Nate was taken back. Inside were walls of rich mahogany, paintings adorning the panels that had to be centuries old. A massive fireplace carved in exquisite detail stood tall at the far end, such smooth stone that it looked like earthy glass. Books lined shelves throughout the room, old and tattered. A table and a few padded chairs against the left wall by the hearth, papers strewn about on the table like a whiteout. But what was the most amazing was the floor. Mosaic of a deep midnight blue ran from corner to corner. It swirled in the middle and gave into the form of a compass, in brilliant ivory and vermillion. It reminded Nate of the library he had encountered in the search for El Dorado, only more vibrant.

As the man turned to sit in a chair, Nate got a good look at him. Stringy locks of silver cascaded down his head, pulled back in a loose strap of leather. A face aged by the sun and experience held eyes of blue, sharp and hardened. His mouth was drawn into a thin line, akin to a scowl. Nate thought his voice matched his look; rough and resilient. His clothes were worn down, but not rags; a burgundy coat veined with gold along the seam, missing a few buttons, and dark pants, threadbare at the ends but obviously once a well-made pant. He looked at home where he was, and probably owned the pub at one point, if he didn't still.

"You are the kid Victor took in." The faintest hint of a French accent shone through. His voice was gruff, and it wasn't a question.

"Yeah, you can call me Drake." Nate kept his tone casual. "How long have you known him?"

He stared at Nate in indifference, rummaging through his coat until pulling out a pipe. "Why did Victor have you come?"

'Alright, so he's charming already. Where does Sully meet these people?!' Nate rubbed a hand through his hair in thought. "Well, we need a plane."

The man brought the pipe to his lips, striking a match and lighting the contents. Nate recognized the smell as opium. After a few puffs he eyed Nate, as if sizing him up. "You were given an address to here. Why."

"Someone met us and gave us an address. I figured it's someone Sully knows."

Another puff from the pipe. "Where do you expect to travel?"

The variance from question to statement was getting annoying, but Nate held the irritation from his voice. "We are starting in Thailand, working our way down. There is a good chance we'll be in India before this is through as well."

"What do you seek?" The man tilt is head down, pipe hanging loosely from his mouth as he went through his pockets. "Do not lie, I will know."

Against his better judgment he said it. "…Bhogavati."

His head shot up so fast the pipe fell, clattering to the floor. "That is fiction."

"Finally, a reaction!" Nate clapped his hands together in mock humor. "And no, I don't think it's just fiction. I have seen enough to make me want to figure it out." He ignored the mans' glare. "Why does that bother you?"

The door opened and closed behind Nate. He could hear Sully whistling and shook his head when he heard him stumble. "Had that much already?"

"Ha, Cathy always has the good stuff, but it'll take more than a few pints to sink this ship." Sully came through the curtain, eyes immediately locking onto the man in the chair. "Mathieu, it's been awhile. Hope the kid isn't giving you a rough time." At Nate's incredulous look he chuckled. "So, would you mind procuring a plane for us?"

The man now labeled as Mathieu, simply eyeballed Sully in curiosity. "A long time, it has been quite a long time." His lips twitched into the smallest smile. "Have you missed me?"

"Of course!" Sully strode to the middle of the room, plucking a cigar from his shirt pocket. "Got a light? Mine finally retired."

Nate watched wordlessly as the two of them got comfortable, Mathieu leaning down and grabbing his fallen pipe. He glared at Nate again, and then eased back, looking at Sully. "Your protégé made mention of Bhogavati. I find this silly."

Sully shook his head. "It's a stretch, yeah. But where's the fun in life if there's no adventure into the unknown?" He eyed Mathieu seriously. "I just heard about this tonight. We had another contact but he, ah, couldn't make it."

Mathieu's eyes narrowed. "He was disposed of?"

"We didn't kill him, if that's what you mean." Nate said shortly. He moved to the remaining chair by the table.

"Nate, relax." Sully looked at him warningly. He turned to Mathieu again. "Do you know something we could benefit from?"

"Perhaps. I know that there has been talk of that place in front of me before."

Nate glanced at the table covered in papers. Majority appeared to be newspapers in several different languages, but a few were poking out that looked considerably older. He wondered what they were.

"Really? Who?"

"His name eludes me. He came to me, asking of guides that were trustworthy. It was a time of civil unrest in Southeast Asia."

"It seems to happen a bit." Nate muttered.

Mathieu ignored him. "I have doubts giving you a plane with such little information." He struck another match for his pipe, extending the flame to Sully for his cigar. "Even for you, Victor. And it has been some time. What new enemies have you made?"

Sully laughed. "Admittedly, a few. But no more than you, I'd imagine."

A wider smile graced Mathieu's lips. "I beg to differ." He addressed Nate, still looking at Sully. "Had he told you why we fell out of touch?"

"Uh, no."

He tapped his pipe against the table, ash smudging on newspaper. "Victor slept with my wife," He said it so casually that it made Nate cringe. "But in the end, this was good news."

Sully grimaced slightly, turning to Nate with a redeemed look. "There was a time when Mathieu and I were…" He paused with a chuckle, "At odds, I'll say. We worked different ways, and we clashed. Well, Cathy-"

"Hold up, that woman at the bar?"

"Yeah, yeah, take it easy. You're ruining my story."

Even Mathieu snorted in humor at Sully.

"So anyway, Cathy and I met at the little shanty Mathieu here used to have on the outskirts of London." Sully took a pull on his cigar. "We hooked up a few times in those months. I had no clue whom she was until he walked in…with his wife."

Mathieu gave a smirk towards Nate's quizzical expression. "Confusing, yes? The woman with me was an impostor. Looked like ma cher so much. She took advantage of my wife's apparent growing absence." He eyed Sully thoughtfully. "I believe had we not had that meeting, I would have never known."

"Nah, you're smart. You would have realized eventually."

"I am not too sure. She was like a replica… Even to the mark on her bosom."

"Oh yeah, that little spot on the left one, looks like a star almost. Always thought that was neat."

Nate rubbed his eyes tiredly. "That's weird."

"What? Some women have beauty marks that-"

"Not that, Sully." He looked from Sully to Mathieu. "You mean to tell me your wife had an affair with your competitor?"

"Yes."

"…And you found out during this discovery that you were being led on by an imposter?"

"Yes."

"And how'd that go?"

Mathieu leaned back in his chair, tone nonchalant. "I threw the woman beside me out of the window." He gave a toothy smile. "After that, I grabbed Victor and threw him. It was…fun."

"Nate, I whole-heartedly thought I was a dead man." Sully laughed. "But over time, we realized we had professional uses for each other. This is what brought us here now." He flicked the ash of his cigar. "Speaking of, you were hard to find."

"As I have to be. It is never safe in our line of work." Mathieu glanced at Nate. "Your mentor would procure items for a client. I would research and procure travel arrangements… Many in restricted areas. It made me infamous."

Sully laid a hand down on the table, paper crinkling slightly under the weight. "I hate to say it, but you've the only option I got short of stealing a plane. And frankly, I like staying out of prison."

Mathieu arched an eyebrow in contemplation. "How do you expect for me to trust your guess?"

Nate leaned up in his chair, reaching into a jean pocket. "I do have this." Out came the page from the camp. Reluctantly he extended it to Mathieu, and to his relief, the man gently grasped it, and started to read. "The little card on the left is the translation."

Nate watched Mathieu's eyes as he scanned the page, narrowed and studious. A finger would follow along with the words as he read, occasionally running across the page. "This was found in Thailand, yes?"

"Yeah, that's right."

It was a good while before he looked up from the page. "I am willing to give you a chance. But I expect a cut of what you discover." His eyes burned with intensity. "Do not cross me."

"Now, now, there's no need to think like that. Whatever we find, you will have a part in it." Sully said reassuringly.

As Sully began negotiating with Mathieu, Nate started looking at the room again. He noted some of the books were leather bound journals, others massive collections of similar books. Mathieu's claim of research and travel arrangement seemed legitimate. Most of the volumes were crumbling and tattered, but a few were still brilliantly preserved, perhaps the lesser used. The newspapers had numerous folds and crumpled, clearly reread and thrown about. As intriguing as Mathieu's workspace was, the condition of it and Mathieu himself made Nate wonder if he'd been hiding.

Vaguely, he heard Sully and Mathieu murmuring their agreement to the deal they made. "Alright then, we'll be back in a week to get the details. If we figure anything else out, you'll hear about it."

Mathieu nodded, standing. Nate and Sully followed suit. Coming around the table, he handed Nate the paper back. "The arrangement will be made. Take caution in what you do."

Nate shifted uncomfortably. "We will." He forced a laugh. "We always do."

As they turned to leave, Mathieu clapped Sully on the shoulder. "Teach this one manners."

Sully laughed. "I've been trying, he's got a thick head."

His face stayed intense. "And you both must know. The man who mentioned this place to me… He no longer lives. I do not know if he found it or not. From what I read, I hope not." He paused. "I almost hope you do not either."

With that he ushered them out of room. When they got back to the bar, it was void of customers. Most of the lights had been shut off for the night, save for by the bar, where Cathy was humming to herself and cleaning a glass. She looked up with a smile. "He waited that long to kick you out? That's bordering a friendship, Victor."

"Well, they do say time heals all wounds." He winked. "You have a good night, Cathy."

Once through the entrance door, a cold chill went through Nate. The warmth of the bar felt as though it had been zapped from his body. "It's cold as shit out here!"

"I'll say." Sully scanned the stretch of street in front of them carefully. "Keep it down though, would ya?"

"Why, what's up?"

He waved a hand. "Not sure… I just didn't remember a car being there."

Sure enough, there was a dark car, poking out into the view of the street up ahead.

Nate's brow furrowed slightly, stepping forward into the street a bit. "I don't remember that being there either. Think it's a problem?"

The unmistakable sound of a pistol being cocked answered his question.