"Whoa." Iman steps forward neatly, letting go Greta's hand and inserting herself between her and this new guy. As far as she can tell from this matter of moments, Greta's not recognizing him, and on top of that Iman's pretty sure she just heard him talking some real personal shit to that fuckin guard, which doesn't paint this tall geek into a very reliable hole, now, does it? Still, he's not armed, that's something. She puts her hand on his chest. "That's close enough, buddy. Now suppose you tell us who the fuck you are?"