Not by a pretend military officer, not by anyone. He checked the time and stifled a sigh. It would be a weakness to show his irritation, so he merely returned to his book. The bartender must have sensed his impatience, though, because he came over and swabbed the scarred bar in front of Colton with a filthy rag. Without looking up, he said in a low voice, “The captain’s on his way, sir. It shouldn’t be long now. Can I get you a refill?” Colton marked his page with a finger and declined the offer of a second glass of watered-down no-name whiskey. “I’m fine,” he said with a tight smile. The bartender nodded and returned to staring vacantly at the football game on the television screen mounted above the bar. Colton tuned out his surroundings and focused on Steve Jobs’ biography. He believed he could learn something from any successful leader, although he had yet to find anything in Jobs’ story that was new to him. The door swung open and a tall man with a crew-cut bustled in, bringing a burst of cold air with him.
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