<strong>Sullivan "Sully" Grosvenor</strong><br/><strong>Location</strong>: Clichy-Sous-Bois, Paris, Streets<br/><strong>Tag</strong>: John, Emily, open<br/><hr/><br/>"Do? This was really more a courtesy call than anything, but... I figure, you'll do whatever the hell it is you want to. I<em>want </em>you guys to just go home, sit tight, and pretend none of this fucking shit exists... but, we all know that isn't gonna happen." As he stayed on the phone, he'd continue to follow after the kid, making notes of where he was. "I need to go. Don't call me, I'll call you. I'm sure you've seen enough horror movies to know about inopportune phone calls screwing people over." And just like that, he hangs up, giving little time for either of them to say anything, because...<br/><br/>"Hey, Pierre." He'd call out after the kid, keeping his voice as friendly as he could muster. He would be speaking French, now. "Got a question, for a smart kid like you. Think you could help me out?"