<br/>Greta turned to Anne and looked from her hand to her face slowly. “<em>Join you?</em>” Greta muttered, almost to herself.<em>No, she thought, I am not like you</em>. She flexed her hand over the remaining syringe in her jacket, clenching and releasing her grip on it as she struggled to consider her options. Panic blotted reasonable mental discourse; she only mentally reviewed the years of arduous training and preparation that led her to this post. It hung in her mind overshadowing everything else. She would protect it as a lioness a cub.<br/><br/>This woman, this totally mentally bankrupt woman would not be her undoing. A small smirk slowly crept onto Greta’s face, horrible and unnerving, sharing space with her wild-looking eyes; the smirk grew into a grimace.<br/><br/>Anne lunged and grabbed her by the arm, wrenching her around. Greta could smell the sharp metallic breath of the woman as she asked her how she would pay for what she had done. “<em>You killed her Anne,</em>” Greta hissed into the woman’s face. Her hand pushed the needle guard from the syringe still enclosed in her fist, in her pocket. “<em>It was you who triggered the events leading to dear Jane’s death. You will bear the full weight of that responsibility.</em>” Greta spat her words in a harsh staccato cadence, her teeth clenched as she stood against Anne, unmoving but for her hand in her pocket. Greta positioned her hand around the syringe to allow her to press the plunger when she struck.<br/><br/>Without withdrawing her hand from the long white jacket pocket, staring into the other woman’s eyes, Greta thrust the syringe forward and stabbed the needle into Anne’s thigh, "<em>It's your bill that's come due. You are going to pay it!</em>" She grunted as she advanced the plunger as quickly and forcefully as she could, into the syringe.