'Scotch'
Lawrence was sitting by the bar. Dressed like always in rather worned leather jacket, black jeans and soft sport shoes, so he didn't stand out in the enviroment. He wanted to see the club before aproaching his task. Scotch was looking around at other guests. He decided that he cannot just sit and observe the bar cause it looks very unnatural.
-
Ay! Barman, scotch on the rocks, once! - 
He tried to speak with normal accent but it was rather hard, as he spend much time with his scots in England. Happily it seemed that they asked no questions here, no one even looked at him when he spoke with strong scotish accent. As he grabbed the glass he felt more comfortable, good whisky smelled like home, and made him calm. Sipping his drink he was thinking about admiral Jeff Gates. Wondering how he can approach his objective. He moved slowly toward the table, looking at the girls. He sat in some distance from Brokhin and Gates, but he could observe them well from his place. Lawremce was looking at the girls dancing around, he tried to not show his interest in mafias boss, so his bodyguards wouldn't spot him. He starred at his glass, the whisky was good, and cool, and he should be the same. From this task depended his farther career in Navy and he didn't want to go back to training recruits in England. Lawrence observed all the guests, the Brokhin's bodyguards, and all the enviroment.