...He really did mean it as a compliment. It's okay, though--it's difficult to tell, sometimes, when Dean's being genuine versus when Dean's being a troll.

He nods. More testing. So until these pearls can be in the containment unit in the subterra, they'll be in the containment unit known as Dean's coat pocket. He drops them in and shoulders his shotgun.

"You got it. We should be able to make good time without the damn birds."

For a moment, he considers saying something about what the birds had to say. They were rude to Integra but she doesn't strike him as the type of woman who needs a guy to say look, it's not true or anything like that. The bird mouthed off and she cut the son of a bitch in half.

He supposes he was trying to do the same. They unnerved him, he can't lie. He's so far past his expiration date he'd almost forgotten--or maybe he just hoped, a little--that the contract was null and void. That had been a nasty little reminder.

Time and place, though, and this didn't feel like the right one of either to open that can of worms. "What's the best route for getting those people out of here, quickly?" he asks, pulling out his CiD.