Code Name: Camelot (Noah Wolf #1)(49)

“But you’re not the least bit interested in being Noah’s girlfriend, right? I mean, that’s why I got tossed on the ground last night, isn’t it?”

Sarah smiled sweetly at him, then pointed at the tile floor under the stool he was sitting on. “That would hurt worse than the ground did,” she said. “We all know we can’t ever have a real relationship, so don’t give me any shit about this.”

Neil glanced down at the floor, then smiled at Sarah. “Point taken,” he said, then turned back to the cup of coffee sitting in front of him.

Noah’s kitchen featured a bar that was big enough for several people, and had six stools. Since it was close to the coffee maker, everyone had gravitated to it. Noah set a cup of coffee in front of the stool Sarah had taken, then poured a second cup for himself as he cooked. His range had a large griddle right in the center, which made frying a dozen eggs at once pretty easy, while the sausage was sizzling in a skillet.

“Anything I can do to help?” Sarah asked.

Noah looked up at her and grinned. “Plates are up in that cabinet,” he said, pointing, “if you wouldn’t mind getting them down. This is almost ready.” The toaster popped as he was speaking, and he quickly buttered four more slices of bread.

Sarah got the plates and set one in front of each of their stools, then got lucky and opened the silverware drawer on the first try. She got out forks and knives for each of them, and set them near the plates. “Nice kitchen,” she said.

“Yeah, all this was here when I moved in,” Noah said. “Looked like it was all brand new, too.”

She nodded. “Yeah, they gave me an apartment in Kirtland, and it was the same way, looked like it was all set up just for me. Even the colors and furniture were the kind I like.”

“Me, too,” Moose said. “I got a house in Kirtland, and it’s all set up the way I’d want it, as if I had chosen it myself. They do seem to know a lot about us, don’t they?”

“It’s called quantitative psychology,” Neil said. “It allows them to create mathematical models of human attitudes and psychology, even down to preferences and emotional behaviors.” He looked at Noah. “I bet you’re driving them crazy. Somehow, I can’t see them being able to predict you all that well.”

Noah shrugged. “I’m not real picky about most things,” he said, “but they did manage to get me the kind of clothes I like to wear, and they knew what kind of razors and shampoo and such I like. As for the house, I think it’s probably beautiful, but I can’t really say that it appeals to me aesthetically. As long as it’s functional, I’m content.”

“Content?” Neil asked. “Wouldn’t that be an emotional response?”

Noah shook his head. “No. Contentedness comes from an awareness of security. As long as you’re not in danger, and there’s no immediate situation that threatens your security or causes you discomfort, then you should be content. And speaking of content, breakfast is ready.”

Sarah got up and handed him each of their plates, so that he could load them down with eggs and sausage and toast, and then she passed them back. She gave Moose his plate first, then Neil, then took her own and sat down. Noah joined them at the bar a few seconds later.

“Man,” Moose said around a mouthful of egg and sausage, “this is really good. Thanks.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Neil said, the same way.

“Hey, no problem,” Noah said. “Gotta keep my team healthy and fed.”

“This is a good start,” Sarah said. “These really are good.”

They finished breakfast, and Noah made a second pot of coffee so that they could sit and talk for a bit.

“So,” he said. “The dragon lady says we’re looking at a mission in the not-too-distant future. Does anybody know anything about how they train for a specific mission, here?”

Moose nodded. “I got some friends who have been out already,” he said. “Somewhere on this huge compound, they got a place they call Hollywood. They set up whole neighborhoods or mockups of specific buildings, so that we can literally practice whatever plan you come up with.”

“I guess that’s what she meant when she mentioned simulations,” Noah said.

“Yeah, that would be it. They actually run through missions with people playing the parts of the bad guys, using special paintball guns that look and feel real, but shoot those little pellets that go splat.”

“I heard a rumor a couple of days ago,” Sarah said, “that they were building a set, you know, like a movie set. Something about Mexico, but that’s all I’ve heard.”

Noah pursed his lips in thought. “If it’s Mexico, then we’re probably talking about something to do with a drug cartel.”

Neil was shaking his head. “Bet not,” he said. “Maybe you guys don’t pay enough attention to the news, but Mexico has been known for a while now as the conduit of choice for terror organizations to get their people and materials into the US. They use the same coyotes that the Mexican nationals use to sneak into the country, so I guess those guys don’t care whose money they take. My guess is they got a line on somebody who’s facilitating, and want you to take him out.”

“Either way,” Noah said with a shrug, “it’s not a mission I’d have a problem with. Once we get our briefing, I’ll probably want to sit down and get some input from you guys before I decide on the plan.”