Quoted By:
>With the weight of a falling comet, Old Man Boris lets his hand fall down and the hunters at his back snap up their rifles with a surprising level of alacrity.
Tense micro-seconds tic buy. It is clear he has no wish to order anyone to fire. Etch read the man right, probably an old soldier. Must have seen too many friends buried in cold ground. Not prone to erratic reactions. But he's too locked into his path to stop now. He wants that black iron kettle strapped to the back of the flatbed and he wants it tonight.
All we have to do is stand aside.
What's the play, Agents?
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