"You're Molly's friend, right?" he said, deciding to not mention the whole 'I read your file in case you happened to show up while I brought in your alien friends to get disappeared by the government.

If it came up, maybe, but that was creepy for intros.

"I hurt your friend. Back home. Or a version of her, anyway. I mean I botched the job - I always tried to botch the job the times they sent me out to capture somebody and disappear 'em for Uncle Sam - but I still hurt her. I had to stop thinking about that for a while or it would've killed me. I had to think 'I made it so that one got away, even if I pounded them.' Or 'one terrorist down means they won't trigger my teke to explode a whole village.'"

He went on, his voice going soft as he said the words that have become survival mantra. "'Three or three hundred.' You - you have to cause a little hurt but you can stop the big hurt. Three or three hundred. But hurt's still hurt and now that I can think about that I can't stop."

Tears welled up in his eyes. "She looked like a living painting. She's an alien like me. She's friends with a little girl who gives hugs to anyone who needs 'em and wears little bunny hats and I let her walk away, I did, but...she's real now. They all are."