[The man standing in front of Leon inclines his head as if accepting a compliment, but doesn't comment on the mention of the "trick". After all, it's already effective without saying anything, and whether it is real or not, he knows it's working. He paces around his prisoner with slow, even steps as he looks him over. Examines him like he were some obstacle that needs to be overcome. The dark leather he's wearing seems to meld with the shadows, but there is the distinct shape of a jacket and a tight combat shirt beneath.]

I just want to talk.

[He sounds gentle; sympathetic. Almost apologetic, with the tired voice Leon often uses when he's trying to explain something on the job. The kind of tone you use to let someone know that their town is fucked and there's only one way out--through their friends.]

I would've called first, but the reception is hell in this place. All that government access and connections and you can't buy two minutes to yourself. Crazy, huh?

[He stops his circuit on Leon's right side, crouching so he can look at his face, even if it is lowered.]

How you been lately? Not so good, I think.