I don't know what I'd expected. They showed me the button for the mike in the center of the vest, near your gun when you were holding it. The support of Richard's arm vanished, and I was left with the cold press of glass behind me, as if he'd closed the door to support me, so he wouldn't have to touch me anymore. Would I do that? Fuck you, Zerbrowski.
He moved to one side of the open door and was careful to keep his hands where we could see them. He took in a lot of air and let it out, then raised a pair of sad brown eyes to me. Richard doubtful, and Jean-Claude amused, as if he, too, understood Richard's discomfort, but couldn't afford to let the other man see that he saw it. The door shut behind us, and the silence left my ears ringing.
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