Farah smiled at Elizabeth's comment. "In not so many words," she teased lightly. But the feeling of Elizabeth's hand in hers helped to steel Farah as she led the way through the East Wing doors. Immediately inside was an immense war room. A large round table in the middle was meant to project cartographic images of the Otherworld, used for tactical planning. Rows of steel shelves were stacked with binders, folders, and boxes that were now beginning to collect dust. Everything was either gray or black in color, and it was unexplainably cold.
Another door was cracked open on the other side of the war room, with Saul and Ben standing just outside, waiting for Farah. As she headed for it, another flurry of curses could be heard from the other side.
"These hurt like godsdamned hell! Where's the fairy bitch? Tell her to get these motherfuckers off of me! Rosalind will have your ass!"
Farah stiffened, curling the finger of her free hand into a fist, and glanced at Elizabeth. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" she whispered. "You don't have to come in. I can handle him."
Saul cleared his throat from behind her. When Farah turned to look at him, he was frowning at her. "You're not going in there alone," he stated plainly.
She cast him a look and turned back to Elizabeth. "I mean it. You can just wait, if you want."