Five-thirty rolls around, and almost on the dot there is a ring at her doorbell.  Having no new (pertinent) messages and nothing besides the typical PC news on the Trid, there's really no reason to not answer the door.  When you do, it's a 6'1" African woman with her military haircut and that honest smile in her lively brown eyes.  She was dressed much like the day before, without the obvious Ranger armor, though she still had the full-body suit version of what Cat was wearing, the jeans and boots, and the jacket, which in itself could be armored like Cat's.  Holster at her hip, but the gun in it was<em>not</em>the Ruger Thunderbolt most Lone Star carry.  In fact, the gun looked... strangely non-technological.<br/><br/>Adjoa goes to say something, but pauses and looks you over thoroughly with her eyes, and let out a low whistle.<br/><br/>"Girl, you are<em>gorgeous</em>in that!" she said softly, then licked her lips "Drop-dead sexy!  Are you ready to go... and is it still 'Cat,' or would you prefer another name?"