On the edges of her awareness, Annja heard his lumbering shuffle into the room while she was busy climbing the slide. In the dim light, she caught the massive hulk of a man. But she was already twenty feet up and had no intention of stopping. Instead of paying him any attention, Annja turned, pried out her sword and then stabbed it in farther up. Then she wedged her feet on the sides and maneuvered herself higher. Which is the moment the speakers from somewhere overhead clicked on and squealed for a moment before she heard breathing through a microphone. “You’ve no doubt ascertained that I would be sending something special at you before this was all over,” Fairclough said. Annja was breathing too hard to answer. The strain of pulling herself up the slide was exhausting her faster than she’d expected it would. “Not feeling conversational? How rude.” Fairclough laughed, and it set Annja’s teeth on edge.
