Page 424 of Broken Oath

Cobra looked toward Wade.

“Can we help?”

Fathom studied him.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Treat them like men. Not broken things.”

Cobra nodded.

That he could do.

He reached into one of his equipment bags.

Fathom immediately tensed.

“What are you taking out?”

“Relax.”

“I have worked with you too long to relax.”

Cobra removed a small calculator and tossed it into Fathom’s lap.

Fathom stared at it.

Then at him.

“What is this?”

“You said you were buying me one.”

“So you brought your own?”

“I like to be prepared.”

Fathom turned the calculator over.

A handwritten label covered the back.

TACTICAL MATH ONLY.

For several seconds, Fathom said nothing.

Then he laughed.

Not his usual dry exhale.

An actual laugh.

The sound woke Rook.

“What happened?”

Fathom held up the calculator.