It's a hell of a risky gambit, even by what's he's swiftly learned of Wolfwood's standards. There's no way he could have known for sure the shadow passing from one alcove to another was him.

Michael exhales silently and forces himself forward as hard as he can - slamming against the body guard hard enough to send the girl sprawling into the preacher.

"Don't you fucking move." He growls loudly, digging the pistol against the back of the large man's head just above his brainstem. "If I shoot you now, you won't die right away... just hurt until you bleed out, unable to move or scream."

The twitchy primal part of him that saw the way he handled the girl is twanging on high alert - ready to put a bullet in the man and end it. Thankfully the more logical part of his mind knows there's still the little matter of the hijackers in the cockpit if nothing else. Shooting how could get very messy and not just in a way that leaves blood all over his nice shirt and traumatizes a little girl for the rest of her life.