Charlene Millers chewed her fingernail nervously, eyes trained on the street outside the tiny diner. Her kneed bounced up and down as her nervous energy manifested jittery motions.<br/><br/>"Where is he?" she asked mark, "Its bad enough that he refused security escort from the airport. But now he's late?"<br/><br/>Grumbling, she stood and paced to the far window, peering into the parking lot. A taxi was just pulling away. She eyed the passenger, then looked away. Jinks was not in the cab, so she had no interest in the old man. Turning around again, she eyed Mark, who's silence was starting to get on her nerves.<br/><br/>"Well say something!" she growled.<br/><br/>Mark sighed, returning his burger to the plate, and stood, turning to her. He opened his mouth to retort, then froze, gaping out the window. Turning, she looked back out into the parking lot, gasping in excitement. Expecting to see the famously beautiful Jinks, man of her dreams since childhood, she frowned in confusion. Then, catching sight of the old man, she gaped as well. No old man had ever moved like that before. He dipped, dodged and dashed, fending off the attacks of a group of men.<br/><br/>Without thinking, Charlene ran back to the table. Grabbing the bag she'd left on the bench, she dashed out the door and around the corner to the parking lot. Pulling an item from her pack, ducked beside a car, hoping to go unnoticed. Metal glinted in her hands, reflecting the dying sunlight as she wrapped a sturdy strip of leather tightly around her hand-crafted flute, sealing all holes. Finally, she removed a plug from each end and inserted a small dart.<br/><br/>Carefully, she peeked over the edge of the car she hid behind, and pressed the blow-gun to her lips. Taking aim, she puffed and sent a dart flying. Smiling, she watched as one of the men swatted at the back of his arm. Three more puffs sent darts at the other men. Smirking proudly, she ran across the pavement, charging at the men. They were already starting to blink in a dazed way, two of them staggering where they stood. She found the task of rendering each of them unconscious a simple matter. The old man lay next to the car he'd been cornered against, blinking at her in a shocked fashion.<br/><br/>Smiling, she nodded to him, "Making friend, I see..."