Vignette: Warning
80th Floor, Shaw Building - Executive Office. Mid-morning, with the New York skyline spreading in morning glory.
Linden enters quietly, closing the door behind him - no call, no advance warning, just a /look/ on his face as Shaw, at the desk, looks up at him with silent curiousity. "Bill?" inquires Sebastian Shaw.
"A problem, Shaw." The man's voice is dry, a little clinical, and - unbidden - he takes a seat on the other side of the desk. "Friday, our man Meyer walked into one of our associates' offices in Switzerland and withdrew a considerable sum of money." A piece of paper is produced from Linden's coat and then slid across the desk, where in turn the Black King picks it up and reads it.
Face hardening, Shaw leans forward. "Where is he now?" he asks, the paper crunching and crumpling as he makes a fist. "Where are we in running him down, Bill - people have been getting lax, lately, on both sides of our affairs."
A tiny shake of William Linden's head. "We know exactly where he is, Shaw - in Marbella, on holiday with his wife and kids. He's been there for a week." A pause, and then a tiny shrug.
Shaw looks at his knight for a long time, and then he finally nods. "Ah," he says.