"C'mon, join us."
Drummer looked closely at Brad, then at the others who ignored him. Brad's expression was bland, neutral.
Drummer felt certain that Scarf would return soon with reinforcements. He had to get out, fast, and he needed an escort to safety. Beyond that, he wanted to know why the squat powerhouse, now sitting calmly at the table, had intervened. He must have realized that his interference had been made at great personal risk.
Drummer righted the stool and stared intently at Hodak as he sat. Hodak, sensing Drummer's scrutiny, glanced sideways at him, winked straight-faced, and returned to observe the crowd.
Drummer finally turned to Brad, convinced he was the leader of this pack.
"We'd better get out of here, now," he said, his tone urgent. "Scarf'll be back as soon as he collects a few of his goons."
"What was it about?" Brad asked.
"No time for talk," Drummer replied, gesturing his impatience. "We've got to get away from here, and I mean right now."
"Sure, but who is that guy?"
"Major Scarf, Chief of Internal Security for President Narval. He has his own troops, and I don't doubt that he's lining them up right now." Drummer's fingertips tapped the table in nervous staccato. "Let's get out of here. Now."