Daud mostly trusts to Oscar's loyalty, though he would hardly blame the boy for turning if the time came. Eventually all leadership is overthrown, and the stronger rise up to take control. It's a fact Daud's accepted for years, though now that the one he'd expected to succeed - expected she'd succeed years from now, when his own strength would be waning - is in exile, he's not sure how to feel about any of this.

And those words. 'Has anything gone wrong.' A question Daud can hardly begin to answer for himself, certainly can't answer in front of any of his assassins. The answer would be too ranging, deeper than he cares to think. So he pulls out a cigarette, lighting it in a practiced motion. Takes a draw.

"No. I would have summoned you if I did."

Really, he doesn't need to flee so far to find silence anymore. Over the past six months, he'd become accustomed to having Billie on his tail, trailing him so keen it could take half an hour or more to lose her. Now that she's gone, there's little risk in keeping closer to base. The other Whalers watch, yes, but theirs is a more distant observation, better satisfied hanging back (then, too, Billie was perhaps the only one he'd have accepted such tailing from).

"We can all use a little quiet."