Annie was surprised that her body and mind hadn't simply given up. Given out. Dropped onto the floor and said, 'No more, we're done'.
Instead, she found herself at eleven o'clock at night, writing the same name over and over again on a pad of paper, trying to perfect the signature of the Mossad asset that would get her into the bank vault. There was only one way to do it - this way - and only one chance to get it right. It didn't matter that her eyes were swimming or that her entire body was aching; this needed to be done, and done right. What was sleep anymore?
Setting the pen down, she rubbed her fingertips over her eyes and sighed. Another thirty minutes, then she'd go home.