[ Meanwhile: Jorah has tested the outer door, found it unlocked, and admitted himself into the empty waiting room.
He stands quietly just inside, with a pair of heavy books in hand. No receptionist.
No Chilton.
But there is something else.
…
The door to Chilton’s office opens. It isn’t locked. One hand on the handle, the other hooked in under his borrowed books, Jorah stands in the doorway like an ape: a grizzled old brute in battered armor with a sword at his hip, distinctly familiar to a man who never forgets.
It takes him a tense beat seconds to do the math, eyes checked hard from Chilton to Simon.
One, two, and he drops the books where he stands. ]
no subject
He stands quietly just inside, with a pair of heavy books in hand. No receptionist.
No Chilton.
But there is something else.
…
The door to Chilton’s office opens. It isn’t locked. One hand on the handle, the other hooked in under his borrowed books, Jorah stands in the doorway like an ape: a grizzled old brute in battered armor with a sword at his hip, distinctly familiar to a man who never forgets.
It takes him a tense beat seconds to do the math, eyes checked hard from Chilton to Simon.
One, two, and he drops the books where he stands. ]