"I'll leave that to you, then." A smile tugged at the corner of Lana's mouth. Confidence was key; while it didn't guarantee victory, its lack was a road to certain defeat.

The thought that she could sacrifice her left arm, if necessary, increased hers tremendously. She felt easier when she had a plan laid out in front of her. It wasn't a very good plan, and it would only work once; she only had one left arm, after all, but it was a tiny morsel of one, and it was more than she'd had before.

...Morsel was perhaps not the best way she could have put that. Ah, well.

"Motive, method, and opportunity." She pretended to contemplate these, looking at her fists like they held invisible case briefs. "I'm afraid I'm ill-equipped to divine the latter two as well. I'll just have to delegate." The smile twitched into a laugh, nervous energy bubbling up -- it would be almost nostalgic, if it weren't so dire.

The intercom crackled to life, as if in response; if Lana had been a superstitious woman, she might have found the coincidence alarming. As it was, she just found it more amusing, though she got it under control before nerves burst into outright giggles. "Take care, Ilia, and thank you."