Page 14 of The ARC Unit: Breach

I stood completely still.

“W-Who is that?”

There was a pause.

“Me,” Viper finally answered.

“Can you give me ten minutes?”

“I need my gear.”

“You keep gear in the bathroom?”

“Locker.”

Through the thin curtain I could make out the vague shape of him crossing toward the wall opposite the showers. Metal scraped as he opened one of the lockers, and I remained beneath the water wondering whether any amount of professional experience could prepare someone for negotiating shower privacy with a Swedish special operator before breakfast.

“This place is insane, right?” I laughed, trying to make whatever this was considerably less awkward.

Viper closed the locker and replied in a monotone voice, “You’ll live.”

The bathroom door shut behind him a few seconds later, and I finished showering faster than I would have preferred.

I stepped out, wrapped myself in a towel and stood in front of the long mirror, looking at the cloudy edges of the glass and the row of military lockers. Yesterday I had asked Wolf for a lock and received a no so immediate that I suspected he had rejected the idea before I’d finished speaking. Twenty-four hours suddenly felt like an ambitious estimate for how long I could tolerate the arrangement without committing a crime.

◆

The kitchen occupied one corner beneath the loft beside the operations floor, although calling it a kitchen was definitely generous. There was a refrigerator, a sink, two cabinets and a microwave that looked older than Raven. Someone had added a hot plate on the counter, and Bear stood in front of it cooking eggs while Raven hovered over a small glass coffee setup with enough concentration that I assumed disturbing him might violate British law.

Jackal was seated at the table nearby with one boot propped on the empty chair across from him, eating cereal directly from the box.

I stopped beside Raven and watched him slowly pour hot water over the grounds. “That’s an impressive amount of effort for caffeine.”

Without looking up, he said, “This is why Americans have bad coffee.”

“I’m pretty sure France would like to participate in that conversation.”

“France can join the queue.”

Behind us, Jackal reached into the cereal box for another handful. I looked at him and then at the cabinet where several perfectly functional bowls were stacked.

“No bowl?”

“Less washing.”

Bear glanced over his shoulder from the stove. “He says that like he’s ever washed anything.”

“I contribute to the household in other ways.”

Raven looked toward him. “It’s a unit.”

Jackal gestured around the cramped kitchen with the cereal box. “We have one bathroom, Bear is making breakfast four feet from an intelligence workstation, and Viper threatened me over yogurt yesterday. We’re a household.”

Bear finished the eggs and slid them onto a plate before putting it in front of me, cutting Jackal off. “You eat eggs?”

“I do.”

“Then eat.”