Chuckling at the touristy reference to nuyen, Two Bears wiped the silicon off his hands with a napkin and bit into a steaming golden burrito lying on a sheet of waxed paper. "This is good," he said, munching happily. "Father John’s?" Thumbs dry-fired a pistol next to his ear, listening to the works. "A little tight. Gotta reset the ejector. Where’s the tools?"