Geraint drummed his fingers on the table, planning his moves. "Look, I’ve got to get back to the Smoke. We’ll need rather better resources than we’ve got here, and I don’t really fancy getting a two-thousand nuyen Gieves suit covered with fenland muck. I can’t leave until four, but there’s the non-stop express shuttle at four-twelve and I can be back here by, oh, seven. I’ll bring whatever I can lay my hands on. Ideally, we could use a rocket launcher, but it’s probably too short notice."