Wally is surprised when the voice that responds to him is female, and he spins in place to face the direction he thinks it's coming from. The echo of the warehouse makes it harder, though, and he can't see anymore; not yet. His eyes move to the way that he came in but it's far now, a lot of open space to run through while getting shot at, and although he's still fast he's not Wally fast. Not in this place. His method still matters, proper posture and breathing, and his legs can still carry his weight much faster than the average person due to the sheer amount of hours he's clocked in running, but he's no longer faster than a bullet. Especially right now, when he hasn't eaten in so long... if he made a break for it his chances of survival would be low.

"Oh yeah, like I've never heard that one before, Sweetcheeks," he calls back with a voice dripping in sarcasm, trying to keep the conversation going as his mind races to think of a way out of this mess. He was counting on not being found. There is no plan B. "We're just going to hold hands and skip our way back together so I can get a fair trial and the Computer is going to go 'you're right, he's a good guy, let's not try to melt his brain out of his ears.' No thanks." His voice takes a darker turn, and the humor is gone. "You're gonna have to shoot me first."

There's something strange about her voice, though, something that scratches at Wally's brain with familiarity that he can't place. He chalks it up to his lack of fuel. "How about you turn back and pretend like you never found me and we both go to sleep tonight with a clear conscious, huh? Sounds a lot better to me."