Mean-Eyed Cat: Isaiah / Cat
Not even two hours had passed by the time Isaiah was back in town, having driven a little too erratically from work after his (surprisingly prompt) meeting with the commander. The man was more military than Isaiah was comfortable with on a good day, and he'd gone in with the crawling suspicion that it wasn't going to be a good day.
It was not the commander's fault, Isaiah was informed, that the stipulations of employment weren't made clear to him. Errors in communication happen, even in the bureaucracy of the military. The truth of the matter was that Isaiah had agreed (upon acceptance of funding and employment) to be assigned to teams where needed, in a medical and scientific capacity. And no, there was no opt-out option. The process to leave now would be... messy. And involve not only him, but also all of his work. He didn't have family left to threaten, so they went after his research.
Before he had time to think too much about it, he was pushing into the Mean-Eyed Cat with too much force, ignoring anyone else that might be inside except for the woman behind the bar. It didn't take many steps for him to cross the room and angle himself behind the bar, a hand wrapped around Cat's upper arm and voice low with the glower on his face. "We need to talk."