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... an the plan.
It was quiet, despite Rhea’s attempt to welch. All it took was beginning to raise his voice while speaking of cards in sleeves and she folded, leaving him to disappear into the crowd and then past it. The thief lay back against the warehouse wall, eyes on the cramped tables where hostages were tearing through breakfast in rotations of thirty. Patiently he watched, chewing on the old black bread he’d swiped on his way through. Taking his time. If he didn’t, he might just chok ...
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