She's taken cover in the frame of a door leading down into the building below, shivering a little with the cold and flinching at the occasional drops that flick at her face, propelled by the strong winds at this height. Odd how maintaining the correct level of paranoia leaves me so jittery, she thinks. A light flickers in the corner of her vision and she swivels to face it, pointing a transmitter with practiced ease but wariness showing.