“Swords!” panted Natalia, hands wrapped around her kneecaps and hunched in over herself. “Who the hell comes after a person with swords.”
“I think it was a Scottish claymore,” said Michael. “Fifteenth century and in really good nick by the looks of it.”
“I think you’re missing the bit where the chick with the pink Mohawk tried to take your head off.”
“She had a good swing. I’ll give her that.”
“HEAD! NECK! NEAR DECAPITATION!” spat Natalia! “Do I really need to repeat myself?”
“Well at least it wasn’t machine guns this time and you were rather good holding your own against her,” Michael shrugged.
“I had a piece of lead piping!” Natalia spat. “She nearly killed me!”
“But we got the hard drive,” he pointed out.
“Which crazy chick sliced in half with her sword before we took her down,” said Natalia dryly.
“More like a third and two thirds.”
“Same difference. It’s useless.” Natalia straightened up and stretched, popping her joints loudly and scowled when the muscles in her arms protested. “I really need to stop jumping out of windows,” she groaned. “It’s starting to disagree with me.”
“Well you could have taken the stairs. You were right next to the door.”
Natalia turned her scowl towards Michael.
“I wasn’t right next to the door. There was a crazy, sword wielding psycho in the way.”
“Then you should have thrown her out of the window instead.”