"Right." Which prompts a pause, a brief flicker of consideration. And then he shrugs, game enough, twisting about so he can shoulder out anyone who might theoretically be listening (no one is; the crackling announcement of the next match and the resultant howl that meets it makes that much obvious).

"So he and I had a bit of a run in --And before you get out ahead of me, it was perfectly cordial. The bastard only drew his gun once and never even pointed it in my direction which, from the sound of it, makes us best mates. He wants weapons from Hypertech and I told him point blank that I couldn't get him shit without elevated clearance which, ta-da--" He pats his jacket lapel for emphasis, likely meaning to indicate his breast pocket or some badge he isn't currently actually wearing. "--done and done. Which means I've got access to fab up something that can take your friend out without the serial numbers on it. Personally I was thinking a nice rocket launcher or an IED under his bed, but I'm open to ideas."