Slowly, the Amerindian pulled himself to his feet, groaning with the effort. For the first time. Falcon saw that the big man’s right arm hung limply at his side. It didn’t take long to understand why: the troll’s bullet had ripped a couple of nuyen’s worth of hamburger from the Amerindian’s biceps. Blood poured from the wound and down his arm, dripping from his fingertips to the alley floor.