The bar at the Mhi'Motir

[Halogen]

Hal doesn't look like someone who does a lot of talking.

In his thirties, dressed simply but smartly, he enters the bar and heads towards the information broker, weaving politely through the crowd, with curteous nod and a relaxed smile.

The fixer is, of course, busy -- talking to her and knocking knuckles with him the way fixers ply their trade. Sitting close by, with a large glass of Dublin Stout, Hal waits his turn. When the moment's right, Hal catches Ramirez's eye and nods meaningfully -- as if to say "I'm waiting, not in a rush, but don't take the piss". Ramirez knows that nod and tips his hat. Once his on-going exchange completes, he makes a "drink?" sign to Hal, who finishes his pint and they both wonder to the bar.

"Y'allright mate?", Hal says above the noise of the bar. Ramirez nods. "Yeah - not bad. Work's good so all's good really..." The men work together and get served fairly quickly. They look around and head to an empty table towards the edge of the bar.

"So I hear you're making full use of your insurance policy" Ramirez chuckles. Hal grimaces. "Don't rub it in. I have found a hidden talent of being in the first wave and become prime target. Sucks." Hal shrugs and continues. "I'm starting to get used to it"

Hal looks around, then pulls a datapad from his inside left pocket and places it on the table.

"Listen - I saw something weird in Coronado.". He switches on the datapad, swipes the fingerprint reader and turns display so that Ramirez gets a better view.

"What do you make of this?", asks Hal.

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