“You’re asking the wrong man, and you’re asking him at the wrong hour.”

He pulled a memo off the stack, signed it with the silver pen, and slid it across the desk.

The ink looked green going down.

“Run that to the armory.

And stop overthinking minor paperwork.

It’s a habit that follows people.”

I picked up the memo by its corner.

The signature was still wet, and it was green against the page.