She stuck out like he did the moment she wondered into this place. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, see it in the way she walked among the crowed and it caused a cant of his head. When her eyes landed on him he would do his best to fake a half smile...it looked out of place on his face.<br/><br/>When she moved to the bartender he wasn't little to no help. She was new here, nothing much to do. Even the time of day was earned in a place like this. She could be a cop, or a mole...or simply a rich little girl looking for some 'trouble'. Either way her attention was pretty much not wanted. Lazar himself looked down and over to the corner for a moment. They allowed him to drink here, but that was about it. This was an American bar, segregated in almost every way possible.<br/><br/>He got up and moved across the bar like the Ghost he was called from time to time. Steps silent in shoes that had no business being as quiet as they were. Those he couldn't walk past, moved out of his way instantly.<br/><br/>“Miss..”<br/><br/>His accent was not as thick as it could be, but it was unmistakable that he was from Russia.<br/><br/>“...what do you need help with?”<br/><br/>She was actually safe here, even though she didn't feel like it. No one would touch her, it was too risky. But that didn't mean anyone was going to willingly help her aside from the large man standing before her. Trying his best to seem...helpful.