That quick glance was met with level stare as Tony calculated the likelihood of the assassin's claim. On the one hand, he couldn't have been here for longer than around two weeks, so that still left some time for him to have defected. And his arm was pretty beat up after a month, which he agreed was a long time.

Of course, that was with the big assumption that anything he said could be trusted. And since he'd kept a pretty damn big secret from Rogers, Tony wasn't too sure about trusting him. Not to mention the fact that this shifty guy who had tension in every fiber of his body and looked pointedly away from everyone else couldn't be more different than the cold, vicious killer who met his eyes unflinchingly last week. One of those personas had to be an act, and Tony knew which was easier to fake.

He also knew how easy it would be for someone who looked like Rogers' best friend to tug on his stupid heartstrings and get exactly what he wanted.

"Hm," Tony grunted, sounding unimpressed. He stared directly at the side of the guy's shaggy head with highly skeptical expression.

"Next time I'd lead with that. You know, instead of angry Russian and strangulation."