In my mic, I say, “Farrow, give me a run-down of what to do as fast as you can.” He does. I listen. It’s scaring the fuck outta me, really, because he adds, in case this happens, you need to do this—and I’m hoping and praying she won’t land in a worst case scenario. “Alright. Now get Thatcher on the line.” Thatcher is in my ear in a millisecond. “Donnelly—” “You’re gonna talk to your wife through comms. I won’t be able to hear you, but she can.” So carefully and quickly, I detach the radio and pry out my earpiece. I tell Jane, “You won’t be able to respond to him, but Thatcher is gonna walk
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