"I just, I dont know, it's like I said to your Horseman friends-" From his seat across the long glass table, the Tech-billionaire presumed dead Walter Mabry rambles on, pausing as he sips from some elegant craft cocktail. "Well, before Merritt felt like cutting me off, 'information is everything'. I'm telling you, surveillance is power, and everyone is kidding themselves if they think their information is safe. It's who has it that matters? You know, buying and selling." Leaning back in the chair, he groans a bit.

He has all the drapings of a man feigning humility, a loose hoodie and some simple pants, just a down to earth guy, despite his faked death and millions. "But, let's not talk shop, I mean, I'm not sending you out there with your mates? No, no-" He shakes his head. "Never you. I think- I know you're special." Hes biting his lip know. His facade is crumbling, of arrogance and nonchalance. He's a fanboy. He's enraptured he's got you, here, right where he wants you.

"So, come on! Tell me, really, what's up with those Horseman guys? I mean, they're all kinda broody, apart from that new girl. But, second rate act." He shrugs.