He isn't a new hand, this goon pinned under Edward, and he knows the look of a mad dog when he sees one. Today, he decides, is not the day he wants to die. He stays very still, glancing nervously between Ed and his blade, hands up in surrender.

Izzy keeps the other where he is, the look on his face not dissimilar save for the undercurrent of shining hunger.

No one speaks a word until the other man returns and dumps the sack of coin over their interrupted card game.

"Count it out," Izzy says, not taking his eyes off his hostage for a second.

"It's all there, I promise-"

"Your promises are shit. I said count." As though he does this all the time. As though he knows a dodgy trader when he sees one. And, to his credit, he does.

It takes ages, but the man counts every last piece. He's ten short. It is quickly rectified.

"Six hundred.. there. All good, it's all there, you can go now. Tell your captain we sends our regards'n all them lovely tidings. Always a pleasure doing business with'em."

"Yeah, a pleasure."

Only then does Izzy round to the side to collect the money, eyes still trained on his captive. It's heavy as fuck this bag, but he cradles it against his body, not trusting that they won't just spring to kill them both once he puts down his weapon or Ed turns away from his own concentration. As he's got the coin, Izzy starts back first, never taking his sword down or turning his back to them.