"I don't want nothin' to do with no Goddamn protest," Billy muttered, looking uncertain.

"My dear boy, don't you understand that the demonstrators will be your salvation? Who would suspect a couple of wanted men – actually appearing in public to kill a controversial senator, when a bunch of noisy college kids will be waving signs and shouting their usual obscenities. You've just got to understand the dynamics of mob behavior. A crowd has no individuality; it does not think, it just acts – and our three ingredients, the fight, the firecracker, and the demonstrators, will more than assure you of complete success and escape."

"I don't know whatcha talkin' about," Billy said morosely. "But I get the feeling that you haven't leveled with us about why you want this Goddamn senator ripped off so real bad."

"Yeah, what's in it for you?" Vito's nasal voice joined in.

"My motives are of no special importance to you," the man nodded seriously. "Knowing too much may, in fact, be disadvantageous. I am a careful man who works for careful men, and I do not think you need to attach much importance to what you are doing. Just remember that it is through my employers that you have been able to make your escape from prison. We did that for you. We're prepared to go the rest of the way and see you get to Mexico in safety."

"I don't like the way you're runnin' everything. I think we can make this thing go better'n you, seein' that we're professionals," Billy interjected, a forced skepticism in his voice. He didn't mind all the brain work being allotted to others, but he reacted violently to the fact that he was being forced to follow the methods of people he did not know and did not trust. A flicker of jealous concern raced through his mind when he realized that his position as gang leader was being usurped by this outsider. "We got the experience and the know-how in making a hit, anyway."