Diego stiffened as Julius put a hand on his shoulder. His initial reaction was to quickly pull away, but he thought better of it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the touch, but the manner in which the hand was being given bothered him. 

[i]Hold the fire? Hold the fucking fire?[/i] Diego chewed on his bottom lip as Julius continued talking. His blood boiled more and more with each passing second, and he did his best to not show it. The chewing of the lip would only show his uneasiness. 

He gritted his teeth slowly at the words coming out of his friend’s mouth. “This is their turf,” and “obey their rules,” and “a little diplomacy.” In the end, it didn’t surprise Diego that Julius was talking this way. He was a pushover. Weak. There was no sense in using diplomacy in this world they were now living in, especially when the other Empowered, at any time, could turn on them. Diego knew thugs. He had lived with them long after the Civil war; in the slums of Los Angeles, in the underbelly of Seattle, in Nashville, in Boston, everywhere. They were all just a bunch of assholes, and snow cone over there with her icy eyes and calm façade was no different.

He flinched slightly at Mari’s hand. There was another one of those damn hands. Couldn’t they see he was calm? If he wasn’t calm, he would have melted snow cone by now, and had her charred body hanging from the flagpole a couple blocks from the safe house.

“Diego.” Mari’s voice pulled him back to reality, and he turned to her.

“What?” He snapped. As she continued to talk, Diego took a deep breath. He felt her take his hand in hers and pull him away a bit. He complied, just barely, and took a step back. When she had turned her head away to speak to the other woman, he slowly pulled his hand free and crossed his arms over his chest, not breaking the stare he had on Nilin. Once Mari had turned back to him, he leaned down and turned his head so that his eyes met hers. He nodded at what she said, taking into account her tone. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll keep an eye on him. “

“The Hell we will leave,” Diego muttered under his breath, low enough so that only Mari could hear if she was paying attention. “The only way we’re leaving is either in a body bag, or after every last one of those scumbags dead, thugs or government.”

Diego took a step forward, ready to butt into the ongoing conversation, when another man walked in. He looked like another one of those thugs, but when he introduced himself to snow cone, Diego knew that he wasn’t a body guard. [i]He must be that guy Mari was talking about. He doesn’t seem like much at all. In fact, he just looks like an average jackass with an attitude problem. He probably is as harmless as a baby bird. And if he isn’t, then maybe he might be useful in helping me take down the Normals.[/i]

“Curfew is the problem, but those who enforce it aren’t. The soldiers are a joke,” Diego said with a scoff. “I ran into one on the way here. Ripped his arm clean off. They’re no more menacing than a kitten.” He turned his head to Faust and gave him a smile, hoping that the man could see the gesture of good will behind it. “Even if we wanted to get a pizza, Faust, the Normals are all at home cowering under their covers. There’s no one working anywhere after dark, except for maybe a couple of shops to keep the soldiers happy. If you want, maybe you and I could head out, maybe find an open pizza place, and get one for free. I have exceptional persuasion skills. Let me know if you’re interested.”

Diego turned his head toward the woman and sighed. “So what are you, exactly, Mira? A lackey and a messenger for the supposed crime boss? His little two-bit side piece that makes sure we do what we’re told?”