Yeah, lemme just give him a parting gift so he thinks twice about getting his friends.

[Normally, Nate would be inclined to live and let live, but he remembers seeing Eddy Raja get dragged into a hole in the floor screaming bloody murder. The guy was an ambitious jerk, but he didn't deserve to be torn apart by those things. Leveling his firearm, he takes aim and clips the side of its head as it scrambles back into the shadows, hissing. The only weapon that ever really worked on these was a shotgun or a full hail of assault rifle bullets, neither of which are all that accessible - if it returns with a swarm, they can't be here.

He holsters the Beretta and finally turns back to look at his new acquaintance: lawyer, who apparently understands Spanish. If he's that used to pissing people off he must be a defense attorney.]

Met my fair share of lawyers, they're not all bad. It's a rough gig.

[Nate speaks from the experience of having known a few assigned to his various cases in various countries, before charges were either dropped or dismissed from lack of evidence. Nothing high-profile. He was always lucky.]

...do you need...like, an arm, or...?