Jacque shrugged and got up from the couch, then walked over to the fireplace "We've all got our stories. And, not that i'm going to start sharing what i've done, but believe me when I say no amount of years can wipe away everything. Still, it wasn't as though he himself pulled the triggers. Up until the end he was pretty much clean, well, as clean as he could be for an arms dealer." he said while picking up the bottle of root beer. Jacque pressed his thumbnail just between the cap and the bottle itself, then jerked his thumb up, forcing off the cap with an audible *pop*, "Speaking of years, as far as i'm concerned you're all 'young'. Old enough to buy tobacco, but too young to buy whiskey." he said offhandedly whilst handing Hart her drink. 

Now that Jacque thought about it, he was actually the oldest member of Delta Squad, which probably explained why the guys at central had tossed a few beers into the fridge prior to the team's arrival, 'Guess they figured i'd need a drink to deal with these people...probably should've left me something a bit stronger than beer.' he mused. Jacque looked to the doorway, then turned to Hart with that ghost of a smile trying to find its way to his face, "In my opinion though, John deserves a bit of grief. He's the kind of person that likes to mess with people. Out in the civilian world with his powers, he'd be fine, or hell, could run unchecked. At least with us he can be knocked down a peg. Or a flight of stairs. Whichever gets the message across better.".