02-02-2014, 02:27 AM
Tony put the cup of coffee to his lips and absently took a sip. It was bitter, in dire need of sugar, but his attention was fixed on Jensen James.
The man was still reserved, but his voice and gestures had grown stronger and more self-assured. Tony doubted it had much to do with his own brief encounter. He wondered what had changed. Could it have been the 'event' Marco told him about?
It was then that Jensen showed him the snippet of a local article, something about a shooting.
"I was there for that,"
Jensen thumbed his cup uneasily, "and was part of what really happened. And now, I don't know what to do with myself."
Tony's brows rose. Marco had not mentioned any gangs. He spoke of torn bodies and mysterious death - unnatural.
"I was hoping you could help,"
Jensen said.
Tony lifted the cup again, tapping his fingers along the underside of the table as he thought for a moment. Chelka had tracked him to the University, but knew little of his actions. Nothing strange - at least nothing that Tony did not account for - but... Jensen James...
Could he afford to entangle himself with such a man? True, his fame counted for nothing in Moscow, he doubted many had even heard of him. The government though...they could find out if it came to it.
And do what?
Finally, Tony's empathy mastered his caution. He could not leave one like himself alone. Still, he had not abandoned all care. "I will do what I can,"
he said, ambiguous, but the truth. "But you will have to tell me what really happened."
He did not ask the question. Jensen was uncomfortable as it was. He merely waited, allowing the man to advance at his own pace.
The man was still reserved, but his voice and gestures had grown stronger and more self-assured. Tony doubted it had much to do with his own brief encounter. He wondered what had changed. Could it have been the 'event' Marco told him about?
It was then that Jensen showed him the snippet of a local article, something about a shooting.
"I was there for that,"
Jensen thumbed his cup uneasily, "and was part of what really happened. And now, I don't know what to do with myself."
Tony's brows rose. Marco had not mentioned any gangs. He spoke of torn bodies and mysterious death - unnatural.
"I was hoping you could help,"
Jensen said.
Tony lifted the cup again, tapping his fingers along the underside of the table as he thought for a moment. Chelka had tracked him to the University, but knew little of his actions. Nothing strange - at least nothing that Tony did not account for - but... Jensen James...
Could he afford to entangle himself with such a man? True, his fame counted for nothing in Moscow, he doubted many had even heard of him. The government though...they could find out if it came to it.
And do what?
Finally, Tony's empathy mastered his caution. He could not leave one like himself alone. Still, he had not abandoned all care. "I will do what I can,"
he said, ambiguous, but the truth. "But you will have to tell me what really happened."
He did not ask the question. Jensen was uncomfortable as it was. He merely waited, allowing the man to advance at his own pace.