Great Minds Think Alike [Amos]

[Ludwig Beilschmidt]

Words: 639

Amos Knyarilay

Color: #003366

Notes: Sorry for the wait!

When he’d first been elected not long ago at all, the office that Ludwig had been assigned started out as a private nightmare: it reeked of cigarette smoke, the walls had gone grimy with tar, the deeply scratched floor needed repairing, and that had been only the start — the previous owner’s taste in decoration, for instance, would have looked better in some tacky hotel. Ludwig had dipped into his own free time and funds to repair and clean and furnish the place but he didn’t regret it: it had become a place he could work and concentrate properly.

The walls had been cleaned and repainted a light shade of blue-gray, the wooden floor had been fixed and resurfaced and covered with a nice rug, bookcases and a new desk and some comfortable chairs had been installed, and even on rainy days the window remained open to allow fresh air; Ludwig cleaned it regularly to preserve the wonderful view he had looking out across the Thames. By MP standards, the office was modest — even downright small, but Ludwig didn’t care: he had turned it into a suitable place where he could concentrate and work, and that was what mattered most.

Given that he spent the better part of his day here, honestly, it was good he’d made the place so comfortable. Maybe he'd look into bringing in a small couch and pillow for brief naps.

Ludwig had been hard at work since 8 that morning. There had been a short meeting about budget issues, then some law drafts to look over and discuss, he’d worked on his own proposals and investigations, and that had been followed by a business lunch. Ludwig didn’t like using lunch as a vehicle to rub elbows with more important members of the government: he would have far preferred to eat quickly and get back to work, but he could only get away with that so many days a month. Regardless, it was what he’d scheduled for after lunch that interested him the most.

Criminal activity in London had been spiking in recent years, and INTERPOL had responded (finally, Ludwig couldn’t help thinking) by sending a delegation of their agents to Scotland Yard to assist. Given Ludwig’s own intense dislike of the underground’s transgressions, he’d wasted no time in arranging a meeting with one of the agents, one Amos Kya- … Kna-…

Staring at the appointment listing on his computer screen, Ludwig winced. Perhaps this was karmic payback for all the times he’d forced people to guess at the pronunciation of his own last name.

Regardless, Agent Amos and he were scheduled to meet at 13:00, and Ludwig wanted to see if they couldn’t put together a plan. He may not have been a cop or a detective, but Ludwig would be damned if he'd let his adopted home be overrun with violence. Leaving his office door open just a crack as a welcome, he set about tidying up his office, determined to make both a strong and positive first impression. When the black phone on his desk finally rang, Ludwig seized it eagerly.

“Mr. Beilschmidt? There’s an INTERPOL agent here to see you.”

Verdammt. He’d been hoping that Molly would have at least attempted the man’s last name so he’d gotten a rough idea of how to say it. Clearly, luck wasn’t on Ludwig’s side. He only hoped that didn’t carry over into the meeting.

”Thank you, I’m expecting him. Please send him in.”

Hanging up, Ludwig took a seat behind his desk; it would take the other man a minute or two to traverse the hallway and reach his office, so he’d be able to squeeze just a little more work in. He’d been updating his digital calendar when a quiet knock reached his ears.

”Please come in.”

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[Amos Knyarilay]

Amos did not mind loneliness, but a prolonged one started to drive him restless. Before Lyon and London, the only place where he involved with a truly international environment was Kuala Lumpur. While language barrier was almost non-existent, the culture made him felt like being caged. At least here he could just drown himself in his work, momentarily postponing social interaction that is not related to the job. Eventually he could open up comfortably and even built several close friendships. Now he just had to do the same here.

Problem was he had no idea where to start. His neighbors in Milford Flats were still uneasy with his presence; either because he came from a land further than Narnia or because he worked with the cops. The flats were not too shabby, and located at a decent neighborhood, but he would never know if there was a criminal or two lurking here under commoners' disguise. Surely his presence would cause an unease upon them. On the other hand, he did not see any of his co workers on daily basis. Their meetings were short and to the point, leaving a little chance to get to know them past their job description.

Anyway, today he had an appointment with a man who held a high position in the government. It was quite a surprise, for Amos did not expect a man of his caliber would be invited to a lunch with Mr. Ludwig B, the future prime minister of England, as some articles online said. A reliable member of parliament who was dedicated to his job. Amos thought perhaps they would get along well. Their views were similar and he rather liked his determination in eradicating crimes. The only problem he had with the MP was pronouncing his last name. Amos had familiarize himself with Western names, but even then he often encountered names like this, names that forced him to twist his tongue in a way he never tried before. The INTERPOL agent practiced his pronunciation as he fixed his tie in front of the mirror, yet his attempts were fruitless. The closest name he could say was 'Beil-smith' and that did not even similar to how it was written.

Man, why don't they pronounce things as they are written? It'd make life a hundred times easier.

After struggling with his phone's alarm (it was his older brother idea to make a reminder for every appointment Amos had; too bad one of his kids assigned a tacky song as a reminder), he left his flat and headed to the parliament. Amos could say he enjoyed the trip, that part of London was the nicest and tidiest place he had ever seen. People at the security check mentioned the MP's last name several times, but they did it too fast and Amos did not want to arrive late by asking them to check his pronunciation.

"Mr. Beilschmidt is ready to see you, sir." The woman on the front desk informed him and gave a direction to his office. Amos thanked her and went ahead, knocking on the closed door.

”Please come in.”

"Good afternoon," Amos smiled and offered his hand to the man sitting behind the only desk in the room. His appearance was neat, showing that he held an authority over the city. Good impression. "I'm Amos Knyarilay, from INTERPOL's organized crime division. Thank you for inviting me, I've heard impressive things about you from my fellow agents."

[Ludwig Beilschmidt]

Words: 603

Amos Knyarilay

Color: #003366

Notes: Late again oh no

Standing quickly from behind his desk, Ludwig shook the offered hand firmly, inwardly grateful that Amos Knyarilay had gone through the trouble of introducing himself. The MP locked the agent's name securely in his mind as he gestured to the unoccupied seat on the other side of his desk.

"Pleased to meet you," he greeted. "I'm glad you were able to make it. I hope it wasn't too short of notice." His daily schedule was more often than not packed entirely full, and free time popped up suddenly and without warning, usually in the form of a cancellation. But Ludwig had kept the INTERPOL agent on his radar for a while, and the first chance he had, he'd blocked out time for a meeting and sent out an invitation. Thankfully, as an agent new to London, it seemed like Amos had more free time than he'd suspected.

And his guest did not disappoint. Although Ludwig was not an expert judge of character, the information he'd received about Amos paired with the man himself seemed to match well. The agent had a solemn and shrewd face and a calm demeanor, and although the compliment he'd received had caught him a little off-guard, Ludwig could tell that it had been honest and not the gesture of an obsequious man trying to earn favors.

"Good impressive things, I hope," he replied, his mouth twitching into what might have been a half-smile. "In politics, 'impressive' can mean a lot of things. Regarding your work, I think, the term is a little more clear-cut. There are many good reasons why I wanted to speak to you and not some other agent." Amos had a hell of a history and reputation behind him: his work in INTERPOL had been top tier, and Ludwig had even learned that he was still involved in tracking down and subduing his own brother, who'd become some kind of crime lord. Ludwig needed the advice of people who were willing to prioritize justice and safety over their own blood. That choice bit of information had sealed the deal and he'd been keeping an eye on Amos ever since.

"Would you something to drink? Coffee, tea, water?" Ludwig had been thinking about buying a coffee machine for his office, but that would give him even less cause to leave it. Besides, Molly seemed to enjoy stretching her legs if he ever sent her on errands to bring back food or drinks. "Truth be told, I have a lot I'd like to discuss with you, so I might as well get you something to drink in the meantime." As he waited for the other man's answer, Ludwig retook his seat behind his desk and made himself comfortable. Although he had a computer, he'd requested a paper copy of the past year's crime statistics so that he could give Amos some homework. He had no doubt that the agent had already been well-informed about London's criminal problems, but Scotland Yard's reports would probably paint a different picture than some chart full of numbers. Despite it being the size of a Pynchon novel, Ludwig had read through the entire thing; it made a ponderous thud as he dropped it atop his desk.

"I'm sure your superiors have already explained a little about why we need INTERPOL agents here," Ludwig went on. "The London criminal underground has quite a history - fictional and non - and lately, it seems to be undergoing some kind of renaissance. Even MI6 seems to have their hands full. What do you make of this?"

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[Amos Knyarilay]

"In politics, 'impressive' can mean a lot of things. Regarding your work, I think, the term is a little more clear-cut. There are many good reasons why I wanted to speak to you and not some other agent."

Impressive meant many things, that he chose to use that word because of time restriction. If he had more time, Amos would describe Ludwig B's works as quick, efficient and effective. The extra seconds spent would be too much a praise in their first meeting. Efficiency is the key to solve many problems, and Amos was eager to see him working up close. The German's last sentence however, made him wondered what reasons he spoke about.

Amos returned his comment with a polite smile and seated himself back. "Tea, if it's alright with you. Thank you for the offer," he added as a courtesy. Amos had his coffee earlier today and he did not want to play with fate; his stomach lately was unable to handle as much coffee as he consumed in his younger years. "Of course, I'm looking forward to it." Exchanging ideas, opinions and news would be a great start getting to know him.

Ludwig B happened to be involved in cases which piqued the agent's interest. About the growing underworld in England. When he was told he would be transferred here, Amos spent some time reading recent case files available to him.He started from the small cases that linked to the bigger fish, snappers* of the crime world. The German's name appeared in later files, followed with notes how his involvement contributed quite a lot to the desired results.

"What do you make of this?"

"Many things," Amos shifted in his seat, his eyes were following the taller man as he took a rather thick book. He pulled it close and opened the first case -- its title sparked familiarity in his mind as he had read it in Lyon's archive library. Nevertheless, Amos read it again; and as he suspected, this paper brought up more information he didn't find in the INTERPOL office. After all, it wasn't a law enforcement. They existed to assist the police, to pass information. Not to chase the criminals on the streets.

"This bank robbery," he refers to the case on top, "looks like an ordinary, low level criminals' doing. They targeted a small bank and seemingly unorganized, shown by the bickering happened between the robbers as one of the bank staff said. However, the driver was not a newcomer in the crime world. London's world, yes, but across Europe he has shown up in cases linked to a prominent group based in Moscow. A skilled driver." Amos proceeded to the second case, but paused to see what the politician thought about his comment.

Then he proceeded to skim the titles, most of them -- just like he thought -- has been archived in Lyon. "Scotland Yard's reports are very detailed. It'll be very helpful for my work here."

[[ snapper here means big criminals, the small ones are anchovies; street slang ]]