Had Hansel been aware that the particular blue cap that was the beneficary of his phlegmatic missile happened to belong to Seargent-at-Arms Juan-Henri Mcgill he may have chosen to spit down his own shirt; for Juan-Henri was the pride of Her Majesty's Royal Mounted Marines - Special Urban Combat Commando Squad. Upon that blue cap was the hammer emblem striking down a happy face.
Juan-Henri doffed his cap and taking a Q-Tip from his belt pouch, swiped the spittle. He then placed the Q-Tip in a zip-lock bag and placed that bag within a larger leather bag and filed that bag among the many pockets of his flak jacket. He patted the pocket with his white gloved hand. Then - for those with ears to hear - a deep satisfied hum emanated from deep within his bronchioles. He rumenated on the reflection in the glass-panels of the adjacent building, a flashing red mane burning brightly in the midst of an otherwise dung-colered populace.
The hound had the scent.