Like a puma watching prey, there is a stillness to Guerrero that is terrifying. Sitting at Winston's desk, his feet propped up and crossed at the ankle, he stares at the man over the box of takeout with the quiet intensity of that predator.

He doesn't say anything; instead he lets the man consider his well-deserved reputation. Guerrero's expressionless face is more of a deterrent than threats, angry words, or posturing.

"I'll… see what I can do," the man promises.

Guerrero nods; the response is expected. He yawns, showing teeth, and then languidly lifts the next bite to his mouth.