[When the local secret agent is done with your cryptic bullshit, you know it's bad. He stands up ramrod-straight and holds his ground.]

Oh, no. You answer me first. I am not helpin' take down Tweedledee and Tweedledeath so someone else can step in an' pick up where they left off. Who is it.

[It's something of a line in the sand; he's spent a good amount of time trying to convince himself that he's worrying too much, that the third party in question isn't hostile, but he can't be sure unless someone confirms it.]

[Mashup from hell or not, odds are he'll still be able to tell if Gold is telling the truth. It's a small comfort, but it's what he's relying on right now.]