Scarab needed no invitation to pick up that radio call; Jaime's head snapped up (and almost up against the window, ow), and whipped to glance the source. Seemed like the camper party was over; sniping from the bedroom window was getting pretty cheap, anyway.

"Got it in one, sir," Jaime replied, disappearing from the window only momentarily. There was a delay before the lamely tacked-on: "Er, over."

Seconds later, the blue-and-black and glowing all over hopped out of the window, wings bursting to form to slow his descent. He kept pace with the car easily, keeping himself visible from the driver's side without much need to look about.

"You heading anywhere in particular, or just here to help take out the trash?"