This whole alternate reality switch thing was beyond Eliot. It never happened, save for sci fi according to Hardison's geek wisdom, where he was from. At least until higher powers had decided he was something worth collecting. But he understood enough to realize Sam had been replaced by someone, something that was going to cause some serious problems if something wasn't done quick.
That and Mirta shouldn't have to go it alone. He admired the woman for her ability to take care of herself, but pregnant and facing down a Cylon (which Eliot still wasn't entirely sure what that was) deserved some help. He got the feeling that he wasn't the only one that thought so. This just happened to be something he did and did well.
His bike left a few blocks away in a nearly full coffee house parking lot, he covered the rest of the ground to the meeting place on foot. Dressed all in black, dark hair hidden under the black ski cap, and wearing his glasses, he looked like someone just out for an evening stroll. The less remembered by anyone he might pass, the better.
It didn't take him long to find Mirta, slowly approaching the woman. "Evening," he said, sliding his hands in his jacket pocket. "Ready to do this?"