The phone rang. Again, as it had been for the last 25 minutes. Andy opened his eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to wash the remnants of a rather disturbing dream involving lumberjacks, Alfie and a rather menacing dog snapping at his legs realizing that the weird sound at the door he was hearing in his dream was the phone ringing. The clock mocked him, as its lights flashed 04:48, he looked over at Alfie snoring, his breathe reeking of cheap whisky and a swirling concoction of smells which could be best described as a waste treatment facility of a rather popular brand of cologne, as he reached for the phone. ‘This better be good’ ‘Good? This will give you both a boner the size of Mt. Kilimanjaro... We found another one… Is he up?’ ‘No.’ Andy replied curtly, clearly not pleased with the ill – timed joke by Eugène-François, a good natured Interpol officer who Alfie liked for the same reasons Andy disliked him for. ‘Well? Wake him up! He is going to love it! I tell you… He is going to l...