"Wnfgh!" says the rebel, or something like it. He's not being strangled, he's just startled as hell. When John releases him he stumbles, but regains his feet. "Nice one, doc," he says as he flashes a grin.

There's no time left for talking after that. The air is alive with the glaring lights and whizzing saws of the manhacks, and the least distraction is going to get somebody shredded.