The Omega Three team marched to the dining hall promptly at three minutes to six. Inside, they stood in awe, their jaws dropping. Beautiful draperies swathed the double-hung windows; thick, luxurious carpets covered the floor. A Chippendale sideboard and breakfront were set against two of the walls. The third wall was the entrance to the kitchen, with beautiful swinging doors that matched the breakfront and sideboard. The fourth was comprised of a massive fieldstone fireplace. Beautiful, fresh floral arrangements adorned both the breakfront and sideboard. Delicious smells wafted from the kitchen. The tables, four in total, were covered with fine linen, beautiful crystal, exquisite china, and shimmering silver. A white card to the left of a centerpiece of fresh flowers said the table was reserved for Team Three.

Teams One and Two were already seated, sipping wine. Team Four could be heard coming up the wooden steps to the building. Hawkins led the way to the table. He didn’t hold out anyone’s chair.

Havapopulas had said dinner for the trainees was from six to seven. Promptly at seven the tables were bussed and reset for the staff, who dined from seven to eight.

Four foreign-looking waiters dressed in sacklike loose clothing served the meal. First came a rich chicken noodle soup along with homemade crusty bread served with what looked like a scoop of freshly churned golden butter. A crisp garden salad with a raisin-pecan vinaigrette dressing was set with impeccable expertise in front of Team Three. They ate with relish, savoring every mouthful.

“Beats the cafeteria at the Academy,” Slick said, as the main course of rack of lamb with fresh mint jelly was served. Accompanying the lamb were fresh garden peas that looked like emeralds, tiny glazed carrots, and a mound of spicy mashed potatoes. A basket of fresh bread followed.

No one said a word as they cleaned their plates. The dessert, a banana drenched in a heavy syrup full of crushed pecans and strong Kona coffee, completed the meal.

Somewhere, probably the kitchen, a buzzer sounded. The four waiters appeared with large trays in their hands. Clearly it was time to leave. Team One left, followed by Team Two. Sam led her team out into the early evening, followed by Team Four. They all stood aside as the staff marched up the three steps to the dining hall. Sam counted as the men and women passed them. Kollar Havapopulas was the last to enter the building. Like the others, he didn’t acknowledge the new training class in any way.

“I think I need to walk off that dinner,” Slick said.

“Want some company?” Hawkins asked.

“Sure,” Slick said.