Sean was dressed casual, having been tipped off as to this underground cell's existence by the FBI in conjunction with Interpol. He wasn't looking to start any shite, but he was here to match faces to the list of knowns and see who else might be pokin' about.
All those years in the Troubles as a youth came screaming back to him with a vengeance. But it was also on days like this when he felt his age. So here he was, nursing a pint of absolutely piss-weak American beer and glowering at people.