the memory made her shudder again.
Confused, yet more sated than she had ever been, Lena dragged herself up and into the reassuring comfort of her Egyptian-cotton towel; her brow knitted together, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.
Thorn marched down the hallway towards the Command Centre. He knew Lena was itching to get the mission to find Eden back on track. Instead of heading back over to Heath’s, he’d made a call. He wasn’t surprised that a seasoned Shield Bearer had kept detailed records of all his missions and he was genuinely grateful for it; it meant that he and Lena could retrace Heath’s steps immediately without the worry of disturbing the old man’s already exhausted mind. Someone had to know something.
Entering the Command Centre, he glanced down at his watch and smiled. Lena was late. Again. He must be going soft, why else would he be smiling about a soldier reporting late for duty? He pinched the top of his nose then spread his thumb and forefinger across his forehead, trying to iron out the creases.
Puffing out a breath he moved over to the docking stations for the Order’s state-of-the-art, hand-held PDA devices and picked up his unit. To Thorn, they looked much the same as any of the current generation of smart phones. They had the touch screen and camera he would expect, but they weren’t all shiny like the ones the kids down the pub sported. These had a gun-metal grey, matt finish and though they weren’t bulky at all, the unit he’d picked up felt much more substantial than anything else he’d seen.
According to Mercury, who was the Order’s unofficial quartermaster, the military-grade devices were virtually indestructible, worked in all sorts of conditions including ten thousand feet below water and in temperatures akin to those found on the surface of the sun. They were “not toys.” Mercury took his equipment seriously.
Thorn didn’t even want to know where this latest batch had come from. He was an amateur when compared to Mercury’s technical savvy, but even he knew that these devices didn’t come from the mainstream market. He doubted the military for whom they had been designed even knew they existed. He shook his head; yeah, he definitely didn’t need to know how Mercury had got his hands on not one, but eight of the things. He also didn’t want to know how much they cost.
He powered his unit up but nothing happened. He tried again; still nothing. So much for state of the art! “Hey Mercury, this thing isn’t working!” he called across to the Guardian.
There was no reply. Thorn swivelled round to watch Mercury as he stood in front of the large transparent screen in the middle of the room. His hands were a blur as he moved the images displayed on the screen, checked the result, and then moved them again. His eyes were ablaze with intelligence yet the lines at the corners showed his frustration. Thorn made his way over to the display.
The Guardian sighed as he turned around to meet his gaze. “Any chance the Fallen 'av got anythin' with Freemasonry?” Mercury asked.
“Huh?”
“Yeah, you know, funny handshakes and all that.”
“Yeah, cos I thought you meant the other Freemasons,” Thorn retorted.
“Very funny.”
“Sorry, my man. Why are you asking?”
“We found the archives; Lena was right, they are on a server.”
Thorn felt his face beam with pride and, if he was honest, a little bit of self-satisfaction. He worked hard at wiping the expression from his face when he looked back at Mercury. He didn’t look happy at all. “Why do you look like you’ve been put on blood rations?"
“Yeah, yeah. Old news.”
“It's not old news to me! Didn’t anyone think to tell me we’d found the archives?” the timbre of Thorn’s voice escalated and Mercury winced.
“I’m sorry, Thorn. It wasn’t on purpose. We found the archives this morning. The security was surprisingly easy to break once we located the server.” Mercury looked down at
Confused, yet more sated than she had ever been, Lena dragged herself up and into the reassuring comfort of her Egyptian-cotton towel; her brow knitted together, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.
Thorn marched down the hallway towards the Command Centre. He knew Lena was itching to get the mission to find Eden back on track. Instead of heading back over to Heath’s, he’d made a call. He wasn’t surprised that a seasoned Shield Bearer had kept detailed records of all his missions and he was genuinely grateful for it; it meant that he and Lena could retrace Heath’s steps immediately without the worry of disturbing the old man’s already exhausted mind. Someone had to know something.
Entering the Command Centre, he glanced down at his watch and smiled. Lena was late. Again. He must be going soft, why else would he be smiling about a soldier reporting late for duty? He pinched the top of his nose then spread his thumb and forefinger across his forehead, trying to iron out the creases.
Puffing out a breath he moved over to the docking stations for the Order’s state-of-the-art, hand-held PDA devices and picked up his unit. To Thorn, they looked much the same as any of the current generation of smart phones. They had the touch screen and camera he would expect, but they weren’t all shiny like the ones the kids down the pub sported. These had a gun-metal grey, matt finish and though they weren’t bulky at all, the unit he’d picked up felt much more substantial than anything else he’d seen.
According to Mercury, who was the Order’s unofficial quartermaster, the military-grade devices were virtually indestructible, worked in all sorts of conditions including ten thousand feet below water and in temperatures akin to those found on the surface of the sun. They were “not toys.” Mercury took his equipment seriously.
Thorn didn’t even want to know where this latest batch had come from. He was an amateur when compared to Mercury’s technical savvy, but even he knew that these devices didn’t come from the mainstream market. He doubted the military for whom they had been designed even knew they existed. He shook his head; yeah, he definitely didn’t need to know how Mercury had got his hands on not one, but eight of the things. He also didn’t want to know how much they cost.
He powered his unit up but nothing happened. He tried again; still nothing. So much for state of the art! “Hey Mercury, this thing isn’t working!” he called across to the Guardian.
There was no reply. Thorn swivelled round to watch Mercury as he stood in front of the large transparent screen in the middle of the room. His hands were a blur as he moved the images displayed on the screen, checked the result, and then moved them again. His eyes were ablaze with intelligence yet the lines at the corners showed his frustration. Thorn made his way over to the display.
The Guardian sighed as he turned around to meet his gaze. “Any chance the Fallen 'av got anythin' with Freemasonry?” Mercury asked.
“Huh?”
“Yeah, you know, funny handshakes and all that.”
“Yeah, cos I thought you meant the other Freemasons,” Thorn retorted.
“Very funny.”
“Sorry, my man. Why are you asking?”
“We found the archives; Lena was right, they are on a server.”
Thorn felt his face beam with pride and, if he was honest, a little bit of self-satisfaction. He worked hard at wiping the expression from his face when he looked back at Mercury. He didn’t look happy at all. “Why do you look like you’ve been put on blood rations?"
“Yeah, yeah. Old news.”
“It's not old news to me! Didn’t anyone think to tell me we’d found the archives?” the timbre of Thorn’s voice escalated and Mercury winced.
“I’m sorry, Thorn. It wasn’t on purpose. We found the archives this morning. The security was surprisingly easy to break once we located the server.” Mercury looked down at
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