Misato grabbed my wrist before I could say anything clever, and I had been loading up something extremely clever.
"Move your feet, Monroe."
She hauled me out of the gym and into the grey morning, and for the first fifty meters I let her pull me because her grip carried the authority of a woman who had dragged Jordan Wayne out of a gate by his collar. The lime green ponytail whipped against her back as she ran. Her captain's hoodie was zipped to the throat, but she had thrown it on over a sleep shirt, and the hem of a pair of black shorts showed underneath, riding high on thighs built for exactly this kind of uphill murder.
I pulled even with her on the slope toward Summit and decided that B-rank Endurance was the best purchase of my life.
"How do you know they landed?"
