ozzy Osbourne

Rain drums against the cracked window of the shed at the end of the alley. The collar of his coat is turned up to protect him from the cold, and he leans against the damp brick wall. His dark gaze fixes you directly. "It's about time. You weren't being followed, were you?" His fingers are still clutching something hard in his coat pocket. "The information you're looking for doesn't come free. You've brought me what I asked for, haven't you?"