An old scrap of him would have seized the opportunity, that fragment of himself long dead. A specter of regret lingers in the thoughtful roll of his jaw, but Nicholas shakes his head.

"I don't require incentive," he says, the words cold. Vigilantism is a rather trite career choice from any remotely rational standpoint, but when one is not presented with the option of taking a rational route one must forge an irrational one. "Give me what you have. I'll see to it I locate your son in a reasonably expeditious manner."