More conversation. "Yeah. That's what I'm talking about."

He adjusts his sunglasses, eyes on the horizon; the longer he stays, the longer he hesitates, the more danger he's in. For a moment, he almost feels like some kind of character from Vamp: The Masquerade, keeping up appearances for the greater good of his kind. It's irony, and boy does it taste bitter.

This is the part where he walks away:

He steps out, head ducked against an imagined gust of wind. Here goes, all or nothing.