The black Rolls Royce, hauled down the paved streets of the historical city of Budapest; Victorian buildings reflected against the tinted windows of the black modernly equipped car, which kept rolling through the city, passing down the city lights, entering the dark roads shrouded by trees, leaving behind the city lights.
The car finally came to a halt in front of a secluded palace, outside its boundaries where a large guard came ahead and checked on the driver. The window rolled down, revealing a tanned lean driver, that had thick mustaches covering his faces, but one could still easily tell it was Brian.
He wore a white chauffeur’s uniform, with his head covered with a hat. Leaning towards the glove compartment, he pulled out a paper and passed it to the security guard.
Checking on
