The Haven Hotel

Safe

"They say you killed twelve men on your own." Yusuf sits down hard on the bench beside me.

"Who is 'they'" I ask after swallowing my first bite of the sandwich I made for myself in the nearest kitchen. It's a toasted chicken and mayo; something I never would have been allowed to make before because the toasting is a minuscule waste of electricity. The heat is delicious.

"The people." He replies while shifting his weight so he can sit on his hands and fight the cold. "The people who talk about the things that happen in the world."

"Do you mean your dad?" 

"Oh, God no." Yusuf takes a small bite of my sandwich and nearly spits it out; he's not used to eating hot food. He chews with his mouth open to let the steam out. 

"That's what you get." I chuckle and continue eating. 

"Yeah, no, my dad doesn't gossip." He says when he's swallowed the piping hot bite of bread and meat. "It's a principle of his, you know. He doesn't say anything he's not one hundred percent sure about."

"I know. I was joking." For as long as I've known him Omar has been very vocal about his stance on rumor mongering. 

"I know. It wasn't very funny." I put the sandwich down on my lap and punch him lightly on the shoulder. He sways to the side and flops his head as if he's been struck by a car. 

"Fortissa Monday." He turns my name over in his mouth after a few seconds of silence. "Living legend. Superwoman." 

"Shut up." 

"I'm gonna become an officer." I can tell by his tone that he's been wanting to tell me this for a while. I glance over at the lanky fifteen year old boy. He has his father's eyes and eyebrows but he dwarfs both Omar and myself by a lot. Still though, Yusuf is a child. He's thin and awkward and weak. For a second I think of Nadia, then I remind myself that this boy doesn't have super powers. 

"Base?" 

"Why must you insult me like this?" He laughs and I let him think that I'm joking. "No. Never base; field all the way until I'm old and grey, is what my dad used to say every day."

"Are you gonna be in your dad's unit?"

"Uh uh. I'm with Copperface." 

"Copperface?"

"Yeah. You know Copperface, man. They call him that'cause he ate a bullet to the face a few years ago." Yusuf points to his left cheek. "He's hard, that guy. He's like you."

"Huh." I ignore the compliment because now I know where I've seen the man with the circular scar. "The guy with the round scar on his cheek, that's Copperface?"

"Yup. No one calls him that to his face, though. As far as I know, his real name is 'sir'" 

"He's a captain?"

"Well I don't see how he'd have a unit if he wasn't."

"Huh." It occurs to me that I should have been calling him "sir" as well. The only reason I don't show Omar the respect a captain deserves is because I've known him since long before he was a captain; the man is like family. Copperface, on the other hand, could and maybe will have me disciplined for the way I've spoken to him. "He seems a bit young to be a captain."

"He was one of the first officers." Yusuf shifts his weight again and fixes his scarf. "I mean, he's been here since the Haven started. I think he's someone's son or something."

"If he had connections like that he'd be living in Central." 

"He's here because he likes it here. I heard that he stitched himself up after taking that bullet to the face."