He couldn't blame her for wanting to protect herself. She handed Rhodey the pen, but when he tried to lower it to the paper his fingers fumbled. Straightening the pen, he tried again, but it slid through his grasp again. Rhodey muttered "Sorry" suddenly self conscious. He reached out to pick up the pen again, but it rolled through his fingers, falling on the floor. "God damn it!" he grunted, feeling his and face flush with blood as his embarrassment rose. He placed a hand over his face
He looked down at the floor for a moment. "I'm sorry. I... suffered some injuries in combat recently, and I'm still getting used to my prosethetics" he said quietly, looking up at the end with a smile so false it might as well have been painted on.
Bending down, he slowly managed to pick the pen up off the floor, and brought it back over the document to sign. His signature ultimately resembled that of a 5 year-old, and he looked away with distaste. "I uhh, wouldn't mind a drink if you've got another" he asked, rubbing his eyes.
He listened intently as she spoke, trying to pretend his little display hadn't gone down. As he heard about Kilgrave, his eyes widened, but he let her continue, not wanting to interrupt. In the background, his systems began cross-referencing everything she was saying. The names, dates, locations, anything and everything he could get a hold of to try and verify what she was saying. "Jesus, verbal mind control? That's-that's Avengers level. Someone with that kind of power..." he shook his head. "Sounds to me like you were caught between a rock and a hard place, Miss Jones. But yo- I mean, whoever took him down did the world a big goddamn favour."
At the mention of Dr. Kozlov, his eyes narrowed. His OS trolled through databases, searching for some record of the man. "Doctor Stanislov Kozlov, employed at Mercy Hospital until a few months ago" he said quietly to himself. His eyes flickered back and forth as though he were reading something, before he finally blinked and looked back at Jessica. "Unremarkable history for the most part, a promising Neurobiologist, no connections to the military... but the signature on his tax documents are a match for the one used to get Simpson and all those other soldiers dismissed--" Rhodey stopped himself mid-sentence. "You probably want to know how the hell I did that?" he said ruefully.