The man stood a full 6'5". He had an old school military haircut and a massive vertical scar that reached into his hairline making his eyes two different colors. But that's not what mattered. He punched at the young man a couple of times driving him back towards the rowdy bunch. The poor light shrouded his age, as the pool players began to yell fight and take bets. The bartender peeked from behind the bar. The man reached out to grab for a through and quietly said. "It's our cover, get these two groups to fight so I can grab something important off of them." Suddenly he raised his voice. "Freaking trash FED!!!" A right hand reached for the young man's arm as the left went for a leg.