A few minutes later, dressed and with his longish hair reasonable tamed, he went into the main room.
“The sleeper awakens,” Ash said, looking over from the kitchen. “We can eat now.”
Gage snorted. “That can be taken two ways.”
“Mind out of the gutter,” Ash replied with a grin. “We have oatmeal or oatmeal. Take your choice.”
Kegan chuckled. “I think…oatmeal.”
“Figured as much.” Ash filled three bowls from the pot on the stove, stuck spoons in them, then handed one to Kegan and to Gage, who was sitting on the sofa. “He’s been lazing around since he got up,” Ash told Kegan, “so he gets cleanup duty. You want coffee?”
“Yeah. I can fix it.”
“I’d kill for real coffee,” Gage muttered. Since what Ash had was instant, with dry creamer instead of the real thing, Kegan agreed with him.
They finished eating, Gage did the dishes, then at Kegan’s suggestion, they settled down to figure out how to get to their next target, handler John Franklin.