Len was about to tell him that it was impossible-- that people didn't come back from the dead... but even he knew that in their line of work, with the people they dealt with? That wasn't strictly true. He was working to bite back his anger (Mark's face had taken enough abuse for one day) but it was damn difficult.
He swallowed thickly, pulling his feet off of the table. Len downed the rest of his bourbon and crammed his cigarette butt into the full ashtray before standing, his expression dark and his shoulders squared, prepared for a fight. But he didn't swing. It was only because of he and Mark's extended friendship- of the depths of their knowledge of each other's sins that Len didn't hit him. Mark wasn't like James, or Digger, or even Evan-- and even they knew that Cold's sister was not a topic to be treated lightly. Just the way that Len never spoke of Mark's brother, Clyde, Mark didn't talk about Lisa. And that in and of itself stayed Cold's hand.