Annie had been sleeping sat up against the wall of the chapel, head lolling, legs sprawled, hands resting on pistol hilts. When she woke it was with a convulsion and a gasp of air.

"Slam!" she cursed, as a greeting to the morning. "What the **** is that smell?"

She stood, uneasily- her old stomach wound always gave her trouble in the mornings- and stretched, cracking her knuckles. "So. Get some food and go see our friend in filing, eh?"