Roland's face almost does not change as he hears this. He knows it's true, of course. If he were a more introspective man he might think that this is proof that Firo is truly one of his now, or near to, that he says such things with such venom. Roland nearly finds himself thinking it anyway, is in the middle of trying to chase down that niggling thought when he realizes he's forgotten, for a second, about the enemy waving a gun at him. He realizes this when a bullet bounces with a sharp, very distinct noise off the machine which is giving the two of them cover. He realizes his hand is on that unfamiliar plastic grip of his Capitol-built gun and he hopes, distantly, that he was convincing enough, that he truly did unbalance these amateurs so much because he thinks maybe he needs every advantage he can get.

"You try for the two," he says in a vague sort of voice, after he's blinked and looked around a little in the direction of that shot. "I'll take the moving one. Can you hear where they are?" Things will go better if the answer is yes. Much better. Maybe he should try shouting something else, lure the others out. Maybe shooting their fellow down will do that well enough.