Both arms stay down at his sides, staring down at the shock of white hair below him, fuzzing through the dimness like a target. The visor glows and he focuses on that, reaching for his shot gun as he descends upon him from behind.

With the help of some well-timed ghosting, the space shrinks rapidly between them as he lands but an arm's length away, gun raised not to shoot but to try and pistol-whip the back of 76's head. Well, in this case it'd be more like shotgun-whipping him. Sounds stupid. He'll have to think of a better term for that.

"It's almost like you want to be spotted."

Think fast, Jack.