Perhaps the fact that Larry wore the black clothes common to Union members made it easier for Lisa to rage at him; in any case, something in her snapped and she rose to her feet, pushing Larry in frustration.
“TELL ME WHERE MY POKÉMON ARE!”
To her surprise, the tall, solidly-built man actually pushed her back, sending her reeling backwards. Her legs smacked against the chair, forcing her to fall back into the seat.
The smile that had fleeted across Larry’s face was long gone now: his mouth was set in a rigid line, his stubbled jaw jagged and fierce, his eyes glowing with indignation.
“Listen to me, girl, I am
risking my fucking life to get you out of here,” he snarled in a dangerous undertone. “I’ve seen Joseph Sterling murder people for a lot less than being a double agent. The chances of me keeping my cover and you actually making it out of here alive hinge upon nobody walking in on us in the next two minutes, so shut your mouth, do everything I tell you to and don’t ask me again about your bloody pokémon.”