C. E 73, Apriliius City, The PLANTS.
This wasn't going to be easy. But nothing in the last two years had been easy. Yet, it had to be done - all loose strings must be tied if she were to move on. She took one last look at her appearance in the mirror (deep blue wrap around dress, not a single strand of hair out of place), took a deep breath , left the hotel room and headed for the taxi awaiting her downstairs.
Flay looked out of the window of the moving taxi. She had arrived the night before with a few of the Professors and as such had not been able to see much. But now during daytime, she could see the place more clearly. She was in the PLANTS, a place for coordinators. Everyone she saw, men, women and children, were all coordinators, but they just looked normal; civilians going about their day-to-day lives, women with shopping bags, men with brief cases, children playing in a park. To her surprise she noted she was fairly calm and composed, no overwhelming fear, no pounding heartbeat or shortening of breath and best of all, no hatred or absurd notions whatsoever. Silently, she prayed this calmness would stay with her for the next couple of hours. She was relieved that her meeting was going to be in a Cafe and not a ZAFT base. She was secretly grateful that ZAFT had not granted her permission to have the meeting on any of their premises; she was a natural and a former Earth Alliance soldier, not to mention a former prisoner of ZAFT. Far too risky from ZAFT's perspective, she guessed. They had agreed to her request but on condition that it be held somewhere else. Since the Cafe had been chosen by ZAFT, Flay was certain she would be watched but she didn't care. She had no desire to be in ZAFT territory, surrounded by war machinery, surrounded by green, red and white uniforms.
She was a few minutes early. She was taken to a table where she politely declined to order anything, telling the waiter she was waiting for someone. The cafe's decor had a warm and friendly feel to it. There weren't many customers; two young women appeared to be catching up on gossip, an elderly couple with a baby in a pushchair, presumably babysitting their grandchild, a man in a business suit, typing away on his Tablet and another man, almost hidden behind some large indoor plants, reading a newspaper. Just as she'd finished observing her surroundings, she heard the waiter greeting someone. She turned and looked.
It was him.
It was Yzak Joule.