If she knew he was there, and there was a fifty-fifty chance that she did, she didn't say anything, just stooped to pick up a chunk of what had once been a retaining wall, slinging it low and hard at the burned out hulk of a factory, smile twisting at the shatter of glass and the thump of the cement hitting the floor on the other side.
She wasn't making a sound, just letting the destruction raining down do it for her. When she ran out of windows on one side of the building she circled it to find more that were still intact, though there weren't many, most of them too high for the regular hooligans to reach.