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[color=DodgerBlue][h2]-Lee Zao Allen-[/h2][/color]
[color=DodgerBlue][h3]-"The Martial"-[/h3][/color]

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Most news was never good news, although it made sense that bad news was entertaining news. To be honest, the bad news was the only reason anyone looked to watch news. Lee scratched his head despondently, enjoying the knowledge that he gained from the anchors' monotonous voice.

Despite the unusual pleasure and enjoyment that Lee derived the news, he tore his eyes away from it, glancing at the arrival of Mack Yancey. He was a fairly tall African American man with blue eyes of all things, a rare occurrence, most likely a genetic mutation. Lee could only assume.

Despite Macks arrival, Lee remained in his seat. He leaned back further into the soft cushions of the couch and closed his eyes, letting the news anchors words and the word of the other operatives in the room wash over him, occasionally interrupting his meditation to drink from the glass of cold water that he had been given.  He could hear the hustle and bustle and clinking of glass coming from the kitchen. He found it unusual how people could resort to drinking so quickly. These were supposed to be professionals, if the job was to hard and they needed to numb the pain that it caused, this wasn't the best line of work for them. Lee made no move to voice his opinions on the habits of killers though, he had no right to.


When the scraping of the weapon box that Craig carried stopped and was opened Lee couldn't help but smile from his place on the couch. Due to the comments of Craig, he was fairly sure that it was a box was full of weapons. He was also sure that there would be a weapon that he would find appropriate when the crowd that surrounded it left, trying to avoid having to leave  his comfortable spot on the couch. Lee simply opted to listen to the conversations of those around him, get to know them before he took the time to actually speak with anyone. The power of observation was a powerful tool.