“Okay, listen up,” says Will, as I focus on his lips, one of which has a small scar, which isn’t unattractive. “Here’s the plan. We’re going to move forward in what is called the rolling-T formation; all right? By which I mean: Benny and I up front, spread apart but abreast, each covering the side opposite ourselves; Beth and Pang in the middle, ready to shoot between us, and Slater in the rear—covering everything.” He makes eye contact with virtually everyone, not just me and Beth. “Then it’s through the North Arcade and onto the target; which will be directly across the street.” He adds, softly: “And go quietly; all right? That might not have been just wind.”
I look at Beth to find her already looking at me; attentive as ever, terrified. I got it, I sign, my stomach doing loopty-loops,
