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Yellow tucked into Duck a l'Orange - one of the few meals he trusted the French not to drown in mustard or undercook.

"We probably won't know what the best plan will be until we have crossed the border and seen the lay of the land. So, perhaps we should see about finding a way across first and then come to a decision on how to progress? I wouldn't suppose any of us speaks Basque so it might be best if Papineau were to speak to the patron of this establishment about finding a guide across the border..."
 
"I will do that." Papineau got up and went to talk to the owner at the bar.

(So, what does he say?)
 
The owner is stood at the bar, a slenderly wiry man with short, dark hair and brown eyes. He wears conventional garb of a rural Communard, and is cleaning a glass with a rag. He looks up at Papineau's approach. "Bon soir, camerade. What would you like to drink?"
 
Looking at the menu, Papineau looked at the owner : "I would very much like some Spanish wine...would you have some way to go get some?"
 
The barman puts the glass onto the table and looks from side to side before leaning against the bar and speaking lowly. "I might be able to procure such things. I have none in stock however. If you and your friends wish to acquire some, stay here until closing time."
 
Thorn smiled at the bartender. "I'd just like some ale or beer, really. My tongue stays Irish like the rest of me no matter where I go."
 
The barman straightens slightly at the approach of the priest and regards him for a moment. "Of course Father... on the house." Then he goes into the store room for a moment and brings out a dusty bottle of ale. "Not much call for it here..."
 
Thorn took it and smiled, beginning to drink after a short prayer. "Thank you kind sir. Ah, you've got fine taste in ale, lad. Tastes like the ale at home. So, how about we discuss our plan while we enjoy ourselves, gentlemen? My mind works better under a warm roof and with my stomach full."
 
"Ahem," interrupted Yellow, "Father, might I have a word outside for a moment? It is about a personal religious matter. It's rather urgent I'm afraid."

Though Yellow didn't show it he was grinding his teeth. If the idiot priest wasn't careful then he could end up scaring off the barman.
 
Father Thorn nodded and got up. "Of course, lad. After you."
 
"I think I will wait for the closing time with some apple cider please"
 
Yellow waited until he and Father Thorn were outside and away from prying ears before turning on him.

"Listen padre, you might have missed it but Papineau was subtly telling the barman we wanted to find a way into Spain. Given that that's not something that's exactly legal or safe the barman is probably rather edgy about it. Then you decided to intervene in the conversation and, in addition to maybe putting the wind up the barman, you also decided to announce to the entire bar that we had plans and that we should discuss them. In front of the barman and anyone else who might have been listening in. Do you have any idea how foolish that was?"
 
Father Thorn was still rather tipsy from drinking his ale, obviously becoming more loose-lipped when he drank. "Wha? Oh... I guess I didn't think of that." He hiccuped, showing alcohol was the problem here.
 
((Unless you'd like to actually go inside the bar and wait or somewhere else whilst Papineau waits for the smugglers and discuss your plans, I'll fast forward till 11am and closing time? Feel free to PM each other ICly at this point if you want to keep the story moving - though keeping your plans secret from each other MAY be counter-productive...))
 
((I'm happy with fast forwarding))
 
(me too)
 
((Yeah, go ahead))
 
As the chairs are put on tables and the lights switched off, the barman invites the group into the kitchen at the back of the small, rustic taverna. Inside his wife and daughters stand for a moment before going upstairs. The barman turns out the lights and then he goes to the window and lights a small lantern. Fifteen minutes later there is a brisk rap at the door and several men file in, eying the group skeptically in some cases. They confer with the barman/owner for a moment in lowered voices then their leader turns and places his hands into his pockets, teeth shining in the low light.

"So, you wish to acquire some Spanish wine?". His French is passable but thickly accented.