John noticed the odd pair of pilots that walked in moments before they walked by his table. At first he remained calm, until he noticed the corsair attire the woman seemed to be wearing. He continued to play the hand casually, yet his heart was racing, and he kept a constant sense of knowing where they were.
After his business with the Gaians he wasn't entirely sure if they'd try to invite some friends to their party, but he remained on edge nonetheless.
The two of them stopped not two yards from his table, and seemed to be watching someone who he assumed was himself. Underneath the table , out of sight, he pulled a small rectangular box from his pocket. He dabbed his thumb once onto the top surface and the small object twisted and locked into what appeared to be a small gas pistol. He placed it underneath his left thigh and took a sip of his scotch.
The two of them moved off to a table across the room and began talking. He dared not look that way as it would only raise suspicion, nor could he simply leave. If these goons were looking for him, they'd be scanning every person moving in and out of the bar. If only he'd left with Finnegan.