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Flynn emerged from his shadow at six o'clock. The journey had taken longer than usual on account of the sunspot activity and, of course, mercury in retrograde. Being submerged in the shadow for so long took its toll. The bags under his eyes were almost purple, and the skin beneath his fingernails had begun to crease and fold. Shadow Hawk bundled him into the cab and tore off down the boulevard. Colonel Hacking was waiting at the barracks. Flynn couldn't speak at first. His throat was too dry and his recall too hazy. The Colonel plied him with apple juice and a stale croissant. At length Flynn became more aware of his surroundings and nodded weakly. Colonel Hacking pressed the buzzer on his desk and moments later both Generals Bly and Conklin were in the room. The pulled chairs up in a semi-circle around the now fully conscious Flynn and waited eagerly for his report. Flynn cleared his throat, and then he frowned.
