“Yes, I always say that. Do you think she should be in the infirmary? It’s warmer in there. Maybe you should suggest that to Zoe.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m making soup. Chicken soup needs to be watched.” Kyros lied with a straight face. “I also plan on making a chocolate cake. I can’t be two places at one time. You aren’t doing anything.”

Pappy shrugged. “They’re all grown-ups. They know where the infirmary is. There’s a nurse on duty twenty-four/seven, and they know that, too. We have a cabinetful of medicines.”

“Thank you for pointing that out, son.”

“You know, if you weren’t my father, I’d bop you right on the nose.”

Kyros banged a few pots to show what he thought of that comment. A moment later, his son stormed out of the kitchen.

Pappy went straight to his office and turned on the computer. It was time to do some work. Just because it was the holiday season didn’t mean operations came to a standstill. And he had just a week to compile the year-end reports his employers expected on January 1.

Pappy worked steadily, stopping every so often to check in with his field operatives via his Blackberry. Things in the world for the moment were on an even keel. It usually happened that way during the holidays.

It was midafternoon when one of the kitchen staff knocked on his door with a thick, robust ham sandwich along with a bowl of soup. He devoured both, happy that his stomach was more or less back to normal. Alpha padded in once or twice to check on him, staying just long enough to nuzzle his leg. On his second trip, he dropped one of his new toys and picked up another one before he trotted out.

Pappy was still working when the dinner hour came and went. He looked up when his father appeared with a tray. Crispy fried chicken, mashed potatoes, snow peas, and carrots, and another bowl of chicken soup. Chocolate cake and coffee completed the meal. Pappy thanked his father and went back to what he was doing.

The night loomed ahead of him. Pappy decided to punish himself by sitting in front of the Christmas tree, knowing he’d ruined Christmas Day for his recruits. He would apologize. When, he didn’t know.

In the Omega Three building, Sam’s teammates clustered in a circle in the living room. Everyone but Slick was in favor of bundling Sam up and taking her to the infirmary.

“Slick, 103 fever is not a good thing. Sam needs some real medical treatment. Cold tablets aren’t going to help her,” Hawkins said.