Falcon snapped his head around, away from the big runner. Ducked down low toward the table, grabbed his untouched shot glass and sucked back the contents. He tried not to choke at the fire in his throat. Keeping his hand, holding the glass, in front of his face, he watched Knife-Edge from the corner of his eye. The big man still didn’t look around him, just worked his way through the crowd to the door, then disappeared outside.