The team took a pair of empty offices on the second floor for the interviews, good-sized rooms with a view of the lot, a folding table and three chairs apiece, and nothing else, because Meridian Contract Interiors had promised delivery for the end of the month.
Whitlock stood in the middle of the nearer one, turning slowly.
"No furnishings."
"Ordered," Doug said from the doorway. "Three floors' worth. There's a confirmation number."
"Members housed and employed in an unfurnished facility." The pen moved. "Noted."
Doug opened his mouth, remembered his own briefing, and closed it.
Yuna Park went in first, because she had posted herself at the door at eight forty and held the position.
She took the folding chair across from Whitlock, back straight, hands on her knees, and gave the room one flat sweep out of professional habit. One door, one window, one man, one pen. Nothing in it she couldn't handle.
