<strong>Sullivan "Sully" Grosvenor</strong><br/><strong>Location</strong>: Clichy-Sous-Bois, Paris, Streets<br/><strong>Tag</strong>: John, open<br/><hr/>"Hey, man." He speaks in English. "You know Clichy-Sous-Bois? This place is like hell. So, there's this group of guys, presumably, The Street Men." he said what he knew it to be in English, instead of the French, because even if he was speaking into the phone lowly, he was wary about being overheard. Even a small amount of subterfuge was better than none in his books.<br/><br/>"Had the displeasure of meeting one. He's got some special talents,<em>if you know what I mean</em>. And has a pretty big disregard for when and where he uses them. Something's wrong with this whole thing, I'm going to keep digging at it... but, it might be more than I can handle. I don't want any of you getting involved unless you're up to it, though." Was there a hint of worry in his voice, seeping through, despite his best attempts at stoicism? Possibly.