I left through the front door just like the Koreans, nodded at the officers the way strangers do, and mumbled something about the heat. Spurlow nodded back and Lange ignored me, but the red-haired guy locked eyes with me and didn't let go. I kept walking, just a man going to his car at the end of the day, only I wasn't. Each step was careful and measured, and with each step I hoped they wouldn't stop me. When I passed through the gate, Spurlow and Lange were inside, but the red-haired guy was in the door. He was watching me with eyes so narrow they looked like slits. Joe