Rebekah Graham.<br/><br/>She had barely finished entering the text of the mysterious message into her personal notes on the MONA, and was about to stand to open the door when the commando stepped in.<br/><br/>The gunshots were unexpected, but the commando brooked no argument.  Rebekah stood and pocketed the MONA, scooped up the Arctic weather clothing, grabbed her bag and moved.<br/><br/>"All you had to do was ask.  Lead on."<br/><br/>Oh, Rebekah had questions, but now was obviously<strong>not</strong>the time.