A Complicated Business

[Centurion]

Something was off. It wasn't the shady alleyways, mysterious fog, or ominous rain that gave Captain America this feeling, however. It was the old man. Despite Cap's every intention to hear the man out, he had the strangest inclination to turn around, apologize and say he had the wrong man, and return to the Quinjet. Fortunately for the old man, Captain Roger's confidence in himself and his teammate was unshaken, leaving retreat as a last resort. If worst came to worst, he could fight his way out. When he saw a situation pointed south, Captain America could never walk away.

The elderly gentlemen, soaked as he was, led both Avengers into the building. Cap's eyes snapped around the room, absorbing its layout and cast of rather disconcerting characters. There was something off about the bartender too. However, that's not where Cap's attention was, so it was left to his subconscious to interpret the old man's mumblings to his apparent companion. But there was no way, despite his concentration being on other things, that Cap would have missed that smile.

The three men moved to a table in the back, Rogers taking a chair facing the door for security purposes, and sat down. The older gentleman glanced around nervously. It was these minuscule gestures and perturbed Captain America. Every minor nuance of the old man's tone, every twitch in his wrinkled face, told a deeper story than "woodenpickle's" message could have.

Following his scan of the room, the old man leaned in and whispered harshly. "Were you followed here?"

"No," the Captain answered. "I received a message that suggested you were in need of help. Something about pirates?"

The old man motioned frantically yet discreetly for Cap to lower his voice. "The walls have ears, Captain."

Cap nodded in apology. "Before we get involved, we could use some insight into this-"

The waiter's approach cut Cap off and forced him to stimulate a simple smile. Something was off. Captain America could feel it.