His eyes narrow at the sight of Nicholas Rush, ever present thorn in his side, and his hand clenches around B's arm at the attempt to wrest away. Rush is not like Asadi, he doesn't delight in childish games, he launches quick and brutal to the point of things, and Ocaso no longer needs B to draw in the targets; now he needs a human shield.

The fractional moment it takes him to activate a signal on his phone, concealed under a subtle flick of his wrist to the device in his pocket - reinforcements are, regrettably, appearing required - is all Rush needs to lunge forward, breaking with the more gentlemanly tradition of lifting a firearm and making threats, and punch Ocaso in the throat.

For fuck's sake.

He lets B go in a spasmodic motion, hand flying instead to his neck as he folds over in shock, gasping violently. Ragged little shit, essentially throwing dust in his eyes. He lashes out, seizing Rush's arm and twisting hard, shoving his weight forward with intent to throw the smaller man down to the ground and drive a knee into his back. He can barely breathe but he's moving on instinct now, anger and adrenaline powering him forward.


"Fucking shit," mutters Iman under her breath as she reaches out to pull B back a few steps more. Rush might be about to need backup but she's not ready to abandon this dude just yet. "You okay?"