[ He mutters, 'God damn', because even if Achilles isn't the real deal, he sure as hell talks like it. And, given McCree's--everything--that counts for a lot with him.

He adjusts his hat. ]

Naw, partner, I ain't the kind to back out. I'll see my odds through.

[ He'll fold if he has to, but for now -- he's staying in the game. He gestures to a flattish rock in one corner of the cave. ]

We set down there. Lock hands. Whoever forces the other fella's arm down flat on the rock, wins.

[ He adds, after a second. ]

Name's McCree, by the way.