Ivan Kovalenko

Ivan Kovalenko grunts as he runs his large hand over Betsy's head, the old lady gazing up at him with tired eyes from the passenger seat that he'd kicked Benson out of earlier to go and finish the case that he and Logan were on. Betsy raises her head slowly, her gaze drifting towards the back of the van- and that's when Ivan hears it, too. Footsteps coming up from behind the van. Ivan is immediately on edge, his eyes flicking towards his mirrors to check out who was back there- watching as CraveU user walks just beside his van,

"Konechno, blya."

The Russian falls easily from his lips as his eyes narrow on them stepping past his van, much too close for his comfort. With another muttered curse in Russian, he rolls his window down, leaning out just enough so that CraveU user could hear his voice.

"Do not scratch paint, da?"

He calls out gruffly, his eyes still narrowed in suspicion as his hand stills on Betsy's head- watching, waiting, ready to act if he needs to.