Behind Grayther, the water boiled. Dunking the pasta in it, he absentmindedly stirred it while looking at Rea. God, he wished there had been at least<span style="font-style: italic">one</span>window. Someone could be aiming a nuclear missile at them<span style="font-style: italic">right now</span>and he wouldn't know. The thought made him jittery. He kept tapping his fingers on his thigh.<br/><br/>"Are you sure of that? Are you absolutely, 120% sure that your brother will keep his mouth shot, even if someone got to him?" Grayther wasn't. Blind faith, even in family, could only end up in disaster these days. That was also why he preferred working alone. No comrades to look out for OR stab him in the back. Taking a fork, he picked up a spaghetti and sliced through it cleanly.<br/><br/>"Here you go," Grayther said as he returned to the meager living room, handing a plateful of spaghetti to the small hacker. He flopped down next to her with his own plate and crossed his legs. "To be honest, I don't really know," he replied in between mouthfuls of spaghetti.<span style="font-style: italic">You should remember to eat, you know.</span>"My job is to protect you. That's all I know. Until I receive further orders, you are not going anywhere unless in danger." He swallowed a mouthful of pasta, remembering that the government didn't exactly know that he had already found her. She didn't have a phone anymore, and he had never had one. Apparently, it was too risky, but now it just seemed like an unneeded hindrance. He sighed. "Just - go to sleep for now. When we know a little more, then maybe we can start tracking down those murdering sons-of-bitches."<span style="font-style: italic">But if you think about it, aren't you one of them?</span>his inner voice snickered maliciously.<br/><br/>Picking up the empty plates, he went back into the kitchen and put them down into the sink. After a minute, he pulled out his bloodied knife and started rinsing it under the tap. He had never liked blood.