[ their steps echo in a way that makes falco turn his head to glance behind them, just to make sure nothing was in step with them like the last time he was in a muggy hallway. he wished he could tell her. ]

I told you, Miss . . . I really don't know what it is. Some kind of device, [ it was obvious that it was electronic; he abandons feeding information that's already overt and unzips the front of his jacket. ] someone put it there, under the muscle, I think. Or maybe deeper, 'cause . . . I can't feel it.