Chief drew up to his full height and pointed a stern finger at Joe. “If we go back to Beijing without those kids or the Ching, we’ll be lucky if we get dog food for dinner.” 

A crowd had gathered at the other end of the platform, staring at them. Some were trying to act like they were looking at their phones while stealing side glances while others were outright staring. Even in New York City where strange stuff happened all the time, it was not normal to see four Chinese guys wearing black suits and ties and sunglasses in an underground subway station circle around an enormously tall Chinese man, who appeared to be loudly reprimanding one of the others in Chinese. 

Chief was still chastising Joe when one of the other Suits started whispering to another Suit in a low, concerned mumble. 

“What’s the problem, Harvey?” Chief cut in. “What could you possibly be sharing with Stan that doesn’t concern the rest of the team?” 

Harvey stopped whispering, straightened up, and looked Chief dead in the eye. “Well, Chief, if you must know, I have to go to the bathroom, pretty bad.” 

The rest of the Suits clutched their stomachs and started snorting through their noses. 

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