devben98

"What a freak," Timothy said, holding up the disembodied head of the suit.  He stared into the snarling wolf's maw, made a little less fearsome by the fact that the teeth were made of stuffed linen and the eyes were embroidered. "This, coming from the guy who dresses up in a wool uniform in the middle of summer and marches around fields carrying a ten pound musket and a full pack," I said. "I'm a historical reinactor," he said defensively. "Whatever."  I pushed open the door of the interrogation room.  Thompson was sitting in a chair in front of the table, looking miserable, dressed in an orange prisoner's jumpsuit.  I motioned to Tim, who