"Of course not. Glad to meet you, Sergeant."
"My pleasure, ma'am." Halvorsen saluted; when she returned it, he mounted one of the spare horses and led them another half-dozen kilometers, past immaculate lawns and formal gardens, to a shelter that looked odd because it was covered in multi-colored climbing roses. "Here you are, Captain," he said with a smile. "Enjoy your stay."
"Thank you, Sergeant." Cortin dismounted as he left, leading her horse into the shelter's stable. She needed help unsaddling—her back wouldn't let her do it by herself any longer—but once that was done, she was able to care for and feed Rainbow alone. She wouldn't mind having the gelding as a permanent mount as long as she was stationed at Middletown; he did have a smooth gait, even though she couldn't appreciate it properly any longer, and he was beautifully responsive to reins, knees, or voice. Once the Strike Force was activated, maybe she would lay claim to him.
When they got into the shelter proper, Degas began fixing supper. That, like clean-up, was normally done by turns, but he'd volunteered for the job—he claimed in self-defense—any time they were in the field. No one argued, after Pritchett had challenged him to show why; he could do wonders with shelter rations, and was the only human Cortin knew who could actually make trail rations into something you didn't mind eating.
A knock on the door brought them all alert, though none were anticipating trouble here; as Cortin had half expected, what they got was company for supper, in the persons of Bradford and Illyanov. She was glad to see them, and even more pleased that they settled into the team's non-regulation informality as if it were a group of Inquisitors like the one at the Eagle's Nest.
She saw Bradford's look of pleased surprise at her men's gloves, and his slow smile of approval. "I see Team Azrael has decided on a trademark. Did you by any chance leave a glove with the remains of your attackers?"
Not at all surprised that they'd heard the story so quickly, Cortin nodded. "Yes—it seemed like a good idea. Shouldn't we have?"
"That's your option, as Team-Leader. Leaving a token that way will gain your team a reputation, which can be helpful at times—but it'll also make you targets. So I'm leaving the choice, as I said, to the Team-Leaders."
"We'll talk about it, then," Cortin said, a bit disturbed. "Personal notoriety for Inquisitor Azrael will be useful—but I've discovered I'm no longer one of the Brothers' targets, though Lieutenant Chang is at the top of their list. I will not turn the rest of my team into special targets without their consent."
Bradford looked incredulous. "You're not a target? I find that hard to believe."