It wasn't math that Namur did quickly in his mind, but something similar to it. He checked the angle Akira was coming at him from, felt ahead for where the werewolf's body would be in relation to his in the next couple of moments, and the angle and force of power he'd need to throw into it in order to make sure Akira flew high and far enough to reach Jones's face. It was more like a premonition than a plan. Namur just had to make sure he put himself in the right place and moved in the right instant. The loping gait would add power, provided Akira launched himself at the same moment, but there was no way to communicate that. Namur'd just have to trust him to feel it for himself. He took half a step back and crouched, the shoulder nearest to Akira stooped down with his palm facing upward, fingers splayed; the other arm raised high above his head in a fist.

"Feet on my arm an' don't miss!"