The soft chatter on the radio isn't something Lambert understands -- a constant stream of directions on where to move and whatever minor crisis needs to be resolved by some poor, overlooked technician -- but it seems useful enough, so he tugs it off the man's head and hooks it around his neck. It won't fit over his ears, but he can hear it clearly enough like this.

"Hold on." He raises his hands, muttering something under his breath as he gestures. To Strange's eyes, the golden, shimmering color that is Lambert's fae magic spirals out from his hands, streaming out to form a thin, glimmering shield around them, though it's not too big. There doesn't seem to be any obvious effect that can be detected besides the fact that magic was cast, and Lambert nods decisively.

"Stay close, " he says, reaching out to open the door and glancing left and right. Yeah, it's still loud, but it looks like the coast is clear... for now.