Lenka was on a mission. A very secretive mission. Very secret. Very special. His mission was to drop from the (figurative) sky like four hundred pounds of metal, surprising his target. In reality, it was to execute the head of an opponent drug cartel. That mission was so fifteen minutes ago. At present, he was in his black battledress attire, a bit of blood on his left shoulder. That certainly wasn't his.
Now. As for what he was actually doing. He was sitting against a wall, out of view, on one of the streets of England, slightly unsure of what to do next. Sighing, he decided he might as well clean the bit of blood off of his attire before returning to the more populated centers of England, as such, he glanced around. Noticing several things. One, being a retirement home. Stay away from that. The second, a dark alley. Probably would accumulate more blood. Third, an abandoned apartment complex, and fourth, a sort of bathing building. One of those places that had high walls in the back and bathing areas, with the water. No, not blood, so the opposite of his previous employer's baths.
They probably had something in the way of laundry, so shrugging, he proceeded towards the door of the building.