Savich carefully steered the Porsche around an eighteen-wheeler, accelerated, and seamed back between two cars. Traffic would lighten later as they approached Quantico. It was a day you were happy to be alive. The sky was a clear blue, no summer heat yet to blanket Washington, but it would come. He wished Sherlock were with him, especially this morning, but she'd been pulled back to New York to interview Conklin. He'd promised her he'd take another agent with him to Quantico for Brakey's hypnosis, and she'd known it would be Griffin for the simple reason that Griffin would believe what had happened to Savich the previous night, without question. She'd known he'd take the leap of faith. He himself was gifted.