"I see." She smiles, in response to that flicker and in polite reply to his clarification. It's good to know, and that he makes no attempt this time to justify it as Riftwatch business, interesting.

"Why don't you tell me what you do know," she says as she rises from her desk, crossing to the sideboard where a collection of bottles and glasses live. She pours two glasses, one with a few fingers of dark rum in it, the other with that or wine--whatever John typically drinks with Flint--and offers it over as she retakes her seat. "And we'll see what I can do."