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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Bobitron" data-source="post: 2574235" data-attributes="member: 25479">Marcel smiles his thanks to Nedjar as he peeks out the door, careful to watch for movement at the stable. Seeing Asmussen supporting Babaye, he nods his head with a satisfied expression and turns back into the room as Sgt. Müller calls for him. Uh oh. This doesn't bode well for what I will find. Walking down the stairs, Marcel covers his nose with an arm as he descends. Merde, the stench. Reaching the floor, he notes the wound on the young girl with disgust, then quickly and angrily checks the other bodies. Once finished, he slowly makes his way upstairs, suddenly weary with the weight of what he has seen, his eyes smoldering with a desire to see justice done."You don't need me to tell you they are all dead, Sergent." He spits on the floor, eager to get the taste of bile out of his mouth. Glancing over at Pamuk, still smoking, he lights his own Galouise. Good idea, he thinks. He looks out the window, noting the rapidly dimming horizon. "It's getting dark. We should wrap this up and get back, or start planning to spend the night." Throwing the half-finished cigarette onto the floor, he swears softly to himself, too softly to hear the words, as he stomps it out with a booted foot. "If I find the bastards who did this, Sergent..." The end of his statement trails off, but there is no doubt as to his intent. He pulls out another cigarette and puts it in his mouth, not even bothering to light it.  "What's going on out there? I heard gunfire; a shotgun?"</blockquote>

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