together: trained by Santoro 2

Kuga leaned back against the door and looked at the three bound people. You couldn’t tell much about who they were or where they came from. Their hair was soaked and plastered to their heads and was the color of wet brick. There wasn’t a single inch of skin that was not painted with red or purpled with bruises.

He nodded to the dead man. “Who did him?” Eve started to say something, hesitated, stopped, looked at the floor.

“Eve is particularly enthusiastic,” said Santoro.

“Is that a nice word for clumsy?” asked Kuga. He blew a pink bubble. It popped with a satisfying sound and he sucked it into his mouth.

“Not at all,” said the Spaniard. “Our guest was very forthcoming. Access codes, patrol schedules, timetables.”

“Enough?”

Santoro gave one of his shrugs. “I do not believe he had anything useful left to say.”

Kuga glanced at the bed. Clothing stood in three neatly folded piles. Two uniforms and one business suit. He popped his gum.

“These other two going to give us the rest of what we need?” he asked.

“Without a doubt.”

Kuga nodded, popped his gum again, and reached for the doorknob. “Then get back to work.”

-Rage pg. 292, Kindle Edition.