York clucks her tongue, grabbing a glass from under the bar. She's starting to get kind of thirsty herself. "Man, you watch way too many spy movies, Marco," she snorts, pouring a bit of vodka into the glass. Then a healthy splash of whatever the hell passes for 7-Up around here, and a dab of grenadine. "Trust me, if some random customer in here wanted me dead, he'd just shoot me. Or hit me in the head. Not offer to pay me."

She pulls back from the bar and takes a sip, setting the drink back down. "Nah, his info was just bad. Incomplete. Rush job on his part. Probably could've stood to do a little more pokin' around myself. Guess we all got a little hasty." She rubs at her nose with her thumb, glancing at Marco. "Kiddo, just 'cause I don't work for the government anymore doesn't mean I don't like to make a little bit of money every now and then. I only get so much in tips, y'know? Besides, I don't wanna get rusty."