Sean walked into the bar.
"Hello, Charlie. I'll take a whiskey, if ya please."
He sat at one of the tables, kicking his feat up and visualizing Paris before the war. Soon, Marco would be here and they could celebrate their minor victory. As he sat and drank, a tall, slender Nazi guard walked up to him.
"You! This is my favorite seat. You will leave now, before I decide to get... nasty."
"Yeah, I'll get up when I finish me drink."
"You'll get up NOW!" The guard yelled, slamming a fist on the table.
"When I say I want to finish me drink..." Sean said, calm and collected. He stood, turned towards the Jackboot, and punched him in the face, knocking him out cold.
"I'm gonna finish me drink." he finished. He walked to the counter, reaching into his pocket. He handed the bartender a 20 franc note.
"Sorry about the trouble, if they start harassin' ya about him, tell 'em to find me."
He left the bar, climbing to the rooftops that he thought of as home.