Page 77 of Thorn

Monday, Zero One Fifteen Hours

Brigitte stood in the doorway watching him take a piss.

He sent her a raised eyebrow.

“Where I come from, it’s a matter of decorum to shut the door when using the bathroom.”

“Yeah? They do that in Israel?” He shook himself off and fastened his pants.

“You don’t feel safe here? You can’t take your eyes off Juliette even for a few seconds?”

“My mission is to keep my eyes on her, not worry about my manners.” He soaped up and rinsed his hands under the hot water.

“Get rid of Brigitte, we have information to pass,” Nutsbe said in his ear.

“Hey Brigitte,” Thorn said, drying his hands then moving to her side. “I’m wondering if you could do me a favor. I’m about to starve. I’ve been running on meal replacement bars, and I could sure use something more substantial.”

“Sure, I’ll keep an eye on Juliette for you. Take your time.”

He ran a hand down her arm and entwined his fingers with hers. “Actually, I’ve been ordered not to leave her side. The bathroom with the door open was as far as I’m allowed to move.” He pulled her hand to his lips for a kiss. “It’s a big ask, but would you mind getting something for me?”

“Raw steak and lots of vegetables?”

“Would be amazing. It’s late. Maybe there’s an all-night grocery somewhere with some sandwich fixings,” Thorn said.

Brigitte looked over at Juliette.

As Juliette seemed to fall into a deeper, more restful sleep, Thorn had lifted her back to the top of the bed and straightened her out on her side, with a pillow under her head, and a sheet and blanket over her body. He’d combed out the tangled mess of her hair and braided it again. He thought that might make her feel more restful.

When Brigitte turned back to Thorn, she squinted her eyes and tipped her head. “Are you up to something?”

Thorn shrugged. “Duty, ma’am. I’m just keeping my job.”

“Ma’am?” Brigitte asked swiveling to line her body up with his and paint a hand down to cup his balls, giving them a playful squeeze. “I can work with that. I don’t mind a little dom play.”

Thorn sent her a slow smile and a wink.

“Red meat it is.” Brigitte grinned and left the room.

The second he heard the door in the corridor snick metallically shut, Thorn touched the side of his communicator as he whispered into the mic. “Go. You have new intel?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Nutsbe’s voice sounded tired. “I’m posting you a blow up of the janitor’s picture on your computer.”

“I didn’t kill him, did I?” Thorn asked, swiping his monitor and leaning in for a retinal scan. After a few taps to his keyboard, up came the photograph.

“As far as we could tell, he roused himself and walked back to his window washing. Hung out there while he inspected the area then left. He was either fine or a Zombie, but nothing about brains being eaten on the news.”

The image shifted. Thorn was looking at the left wrist, partially hidden by a watch, but the watch had been shoved down closer to his wrist bone and half of a Rex Deus tat was visible.

“Shit.” The word hissed out from between Thorn’s teeth.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

“Wait. Margot said that Brigitte was Mossad. The Rex Deus we’ve run into were all Israeli special forces who were KIA in the records. This guy’s playing on the same team as the Mossad? How in the hell does that make any sense?”

“Funny that,” Nutsbe said.

“Shit,” Thorn repeated. “Let me guess.”

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