Good. [He favors Clint with a small smile.] Good. I didn't think you were the type.

[Steve taps his fingers against the tabletop, trying to measure out what else he should say.] Yeah, I guess this is all built on the turtle's shell. Can't talk to it, so I'm not sure what good the information does us yet.

[A longer pause, this time.] One of my squaddies is here.