It was 6:45 P.M. Time to hustle to Harry Wong’s dojo. There were times when he resented the fact that he had to take Harry’s training, but it was an FBI edict, and he was glad he wouldn’t have to come up with a lie to Erin Powell. Jack Emery would be there, and they could talk openly. There was outrage in Erin’s voice when she barked, “You’re leaving? We haven’t even started!” “Look, Erin, I learned a long time ago that if you don’t keep reasonable hours, stick to your routine to the best of your ability, this job will dump you over the edge. By the way, those are the words of every director who’s sat on the throne. You picked my brain, there is nothing more I can do here tonight. I’ve been here since five thirty this morning. That means I’ve been here thirteen hours, and thirteen is an unlucky number, so I’m out of here.” Bert snapped the lock on his briefcase. “You should go home, too. Kick back and think about what exactly you want this team to do. You must still be reeling from the way it was all dumped on you.
