Rico grimaced, and nodded. The fire in his right thigh had subsided into a dull ache, kind of like a bone bruise, menacing, but nowhere near as harsh. He could live with it. He didn't have much choice. Gun in hand, he limped across the nine or ten meters from the chopper to Thorvin's van, then waited for the rest of the crew to pile in. Marena Farris was awake and walking but acting more unconscious than not. She was clean, no implanted microtransmitters, no snitches-at least none that Dok could detect The fact that they were all still alive and had made a clean break from the extraction site seemed to confirm that Farris was indeed as clean as Rico thought. Now, Dok and Filly wrapped Farris in an orange duster and together half-carried her into the van. Filly was sticking like glue to Dok. Probably a good idea.