Emil Broaden, also known as The Shade, lounged against the bar with Scotch in hand, his eyes darting through the crowd of familiar and unfamiliar faces. It was early yet and all the big wigs were busy rubbing elbows. The main event wasn't to start for some time. Next to him, the most unsuspecting man stood watch as well; Lloyd Feit, also known as Bulldog. The little man's drink of choice was tonic water with a twist of lemon. “Why are these functions always so boring?” Emil looked around, his British accent cutting through the murmur of other voices. “Tell me, Lloyd, don't you just once wish for something other then black tie events? Couldn't our national leaders have liked to go on Safari?” The little man sniffed into his drink. “You worry too much Emil.” said Bulldog as he took a sip, “