Skeeter lifts his right arm out to his right, then across his chest to his 
left to get some extra images of the street with the AZT Micro25 strapped to his 
wrist. The skank blasted street is deserted, of course. Nobody but a ditbrained newshead like the so-very-trid-o-genic Asian-faced J.B. would come into this 
part of town any time before dawn.