Sigrun and Mikkel had barely put down their bags at the Øresund base when there was a knock on their door. A junior officer gasped and took a step back from the threshold when Mikkel opened the door, but licked his lips and stammered, "Begging your pardon, but I’m told that Mikkel Madsen has a visitor in the commissary."
Sigrun raised an eyebrow. "If it’s that admiral again, he could just stay where he is and we’d hear him."
Mikkel snorted but with a rueful shrug followed the blinking officer back to the main building. He noted that several people did double-takes as he passed by, and whispered behind his back. Now what, he fumed, I don’t even remember any of these people. Damn rumours.
The junior officer stole sidelong looks at Mikkel as they strode down the corridors, but didn’t say anything more until they reached the commissary. "They’re not serving again until 1700 hours, but I could get you something hot to drink? While you talk." He held open the door with an ingratiating smile.
"If you like." The officer headed toward the kitchen, while Mikkel let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light inside the commissary. There was a person at one of the tables by the wall. With the long-ingrained habit of poor vision, Mikkel focused on navigating between the tables and chairs until he could get close enough to make out details of the visitor. He reached his destination without mishap.
The visitor did not stand up to greet Mikkel. Nor did Mikkel sit down. They stared at one another in silence.
Mikkel finally broke off the stare to take the mug of drink from the hovering junior officer. When the latter showed no signs of leaving, both Mikkel and the visitor turned to him. While each said, "Thank you," it was obviously not the same phrase. The junior officer shot them each a nervous look in turn but withdrew.
