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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 47: Kondor 271
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Slade 266

Riding down the elevator to floor twenty-six, the trio got off, led by Cameron who took them up a hall, and across another hallway to a plain door in the midst of other doors. This early in the morning they only saw one other person, who was looking bleary-eyed into his mug of coffee as he walked by.
“Don’t take offense if someone doesn’t talk to you. Professional paranoia is a thing here,” Cameron explained, and then used a metal key to open the door. Inside waited a bathroom, a TV, a microwave, and two single beds along with a chest of drawers, and a nightstand with lamp and telephone. It was a standard economy hotel room, if a bit tighter spaced, and there was no window.
Cameron having left them, the two chose beds and put up their gear. Zeke took the first shower. Kondor said that he wanted the second because he wanted to take his time. Zeke took ten minutes. An hour later Kondor came out of the bathroom feeling so much better after a long, hot shower to find Zeke already asleep in his own bed. Kondor took the other, yawned, and promptly fell asleep himself.
A knocking on the door roused him, and he checked the clock on the nightstand. They had been asleep for ten hours. Getting a robe from the floor next to his bed, he went to the front door. A lady stood there with a metal wheeled tray complete with plates.
“Sir, I have meals for you. It’s six p.m., and it’s hoped that you will be ready by seven.”
Kondor thanked her, and took the meal trays in. He dropped one on Zeke’s bed to wake the man, and took the other to his own bed. Inside was a club sandwich on rye toast, a cup of coffee, and tomato soup. Yawning, Zeke sat up and pulled himself, blanket, and food tray up so he could lean back on the headboard as he started chowing down after a short, discreet prayer. The food finished, the two took turns getting dressed, so tight was the space, but then they were on the twenty-sixth floor in the middle of London, so space was at a premium.
Forty minutes later they were ready, so they went in search of Cameron. He was gone for the day, but another man, Theodore, his assistant, with a rough thatch of chestnut hair, a significant mustache, and a paunch, was waiting for them. Handshakes later, the trio went down to the car park. This time they did not merit a limousine, Kondor noted with secret amusement.
Driving north, they passed out of the city center, and came to a region of tall buildings, and taller buildings. It was mixed apartments and office buildings, and the shops to service them. They parked and walked a couple blocks to an atrocious looking twenty story tall domicile. Clad in dark green, each level was divided by a bright white balcony around the building. It made Kondor’s stomach roil to look at it. His studies on Sardician art had sensitized him to beauty, and lack thereof.
The elevator took them up to the top floor, and Theodore dropped them off at another door. Two bedrooms, a spacious living room, kitchenette, and bath on the corner of Florida Towers were completed by the walk around the corner balcony. The inside was far more pleasant than the exterior. And the roof had a helipad so they would be ready to roll quickly if needed.
The apartment was furnished in basic functional IKEA designs in brown with a close-trim rug printed to look like a bookshelf in the entry. In the kitchenette the design changed a bit to allow for a thick polyurethane-over-coins table. The living room was huge, painted gray, and the plentiful windows made it seem bigger, but it also had dark green blackout curtains along all the windows. A pair of exercise rings hung from the ceiling out of the way of the long couch and recliner that were positioned away from the windows to watch the TV on the bedroom wall.
The bedrooms were basic except one had a black iron sword rack, empty, screwed into the white paneling of the wall.
“Well?” Theodore held out his hands after both had quickly examined the place and made sure everything was functional by flushing toilets and running the shower and dual sinks. Glass plates and stainless steelware with skillets were in the kitchenette cabinets.
Zeke climbed into the recliner.
“The Cap’n is going to need another recliner. This fits me, but he’s too tall for it.”
“Also food.” Kondor said.
“I’ve got cash and credit cards for you both, and a list of delivery and nearby restaurants within walking distance. I also have a list of places you can call: three motorcycle dealerships, and a number for the Royal Artillery Barracks in Woolwich, which is a twenty minute drive. They will be glad to let you use one of their several shooting ranges, including their adjustable kill house, and there are people there who would be willing to teach you in armed knife fighting and hand-to-hand combat.”
“Gym?” Kondor prompted.
“I forgot. Down the street is Max Muscles. You both have gold level memberships for the year. Swim, run, lift weights, use the weight machines or sauna as you like, twenty-four hours a day.”
That seemed to be that, so the two bid him goodbye and got settled. After that, they sat down to watch television, for as Kondor said, ‘we need to understand this world’. They watched a game show called Globo Loco, which was hard to understand. After that was 7 O’Clock news.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
