Movement on his blind side has him pivoting instantly- doesn't matter that chief's voice is calm, is stable, is reasonable- he's massive and scarred and there and as good as they've been, as settled as they've tried to become-

Delta primes for a threat and York follows through, darting back a few steps, head swinging around, hands up in an instinctive defensive posture in less than a heartbeat. Wash is entirely forgotten as the first few thoughts that rattle through their brain are the size of the man before him and the best places to go, points of vulnerability to hit if things get ugly, when they get ugly.

One, maybe two seconds he's tense, adrenaline pounding through his veins and it's just-

Wash gone, target lost, new target acquired, and a million fucking questions starting with- "Who the hell are you?"