At last T'ang faced me. The silver in his eyes seemed to cut right into me. Softly, venomously, he said, "You were hired to protect the chops from us."

Wearing his indignation like a frieht mask, he wheeler! away and reentered the dojo. While I stared after him, he resumed teaching his class. When his students yelled with him, they sounded livid, enraged by his ire.

I turned on Sternway.

"Did you expect that?" Hong's reaction and T'ang's hadn't surprised him. And he hadn't asked for an explanation.

"Outside, Axbrewder." He took hold of my arm, tugged at me to move.

I ripped out of his grip.

"I said " He interrupted me.

"What do you think you gain by making the situation worse? Is this another anthill? Will it help you do your job?"

Without giving me a chance to answer, he strode out of the building.

Dissociating himself from me Damn right I gained something. Protect the chops from us. I hadn't known Hong thought that way. But I needed more.

I caught up with Sternway on the sidewalk. I couldn't see his eyes he'd already put on his sunglasses but his manner revealed nothing. He might've been waiting for me to use the bathroom.

"All right." I couldn't keep the tension out of my voice.

"I'm outside." Garner's hard glare attacked my vision. Heat seemed to drum inside my skull.

"Answer the question. Did you expect that?"

Did you set me up?

"No." His tone might as well have been a mask. He hid everything behind it.

"I was trying to prevent it.

"I knew it could happen," he went on.

"And I was sure it would if I left you to handle Sifu Hong on your own.

Your way of talking to people " He shrugged.

"I'd hoped that I might be able to defuse his distrust before it gathered strength."

"Well, you were wrong," I snorted.

"So what do you think I should do now?" Did he imagine that I could do my job without being accepted by the people who used the building?

"I'd like to hear any other good ideas you've got."

"It's simple." HRH sounded entirely unperturbed.

"We'll finish visiting the other schools. Then you can go do whatever it is you do, and I'll return here to pour oil on the waters. I'm sure I can persuade Sifu Hong to be more reasonable."

I paused for a moment, considering my options. Then I said, "No." and headed back into Traditional Wins Chun.

He barked my name after me, but I ignored it. Security for Martial America was my job, not his. And I was tired of trailing along behind him like an overgrown puppy.

Inside the big red door, I didn't hang around for T'ang Wen to notice me. Instead I went straight for the stairs and strode up them two at a time. By the time I'd climbed halfway, I heard my name again, this time from T'ang, but I didn't stop.

So far Traditional Wing Chun was laid out exactly like Essential Shotokan. At the top of the stairs I doubled back toward the door of the conference room. It was shut, but not locked.

In the conference room, unfortunately, I had to guess which of the apartments Hong occupied. Nameplates on the doors would've come in handy, but there weren't any. And since the lights were off, the only illumination came from the open door behind me. What I could see of the carpet looked equally worn in front of both apartments.

T'ang Wen solved the problem by catching up with me before I risked flipping a coin. I feared that he'd hit me, so I spun around before he got close enough, pointing one finger straight at his face as if I thought I could stop him with it.

"Keep your distance." I suppressed as much of my tension as I could.

"I'm sure you can tear me apart with one arm in a sling." Actually I would've liked to see him try, but right then didn't seem like a good time for a testosterone contest.

"But I'm not here to cause trouble."

With the light behind him, shadows hid his expression. I couldn't tell anything from his face. Nevertheless he took me seriously enough to stop moving.

"Mr. Axbrewder," he informed me heavily, "you are trouble."

I couldn't argue with that. Instead I said, "There's been a misunderstanding. I want to clear it up." I groped quickly for the right phrase, then finished, "I'm here to give Sifu Hong face."

"You?" T'ang's voice was poised like his body, ready to attack, but waiting.

"You are Western, culture less and uncouth. What do you know of face?"

Good question. I wondered if he realized just how good. Maybe he could see Ginny and Bernie and my dead brother in my eyes. Maybe he could smell old booze in my sweat "I know enough," I told him.

"Enough to understand that I need to talk to Sifu Hong in person."

"Then speak to me, gwailo," he countered.

"Give me face. I will convey your thoughts to my master."

I shook my head.

"It doesn't work that way. I can't correct the problem with you. You aren't the one who's been insulted."

Maybe I was. I didn't know what gwailo meant.

"We will hear him, Wen," Hong Fei-Tung said at my back. He'd opened his door and entered the conference room so quietly that I hadn't heard him. Hell, I hadn't even felt his presence in the air.

"Then I will determine whether his words have merit."

I couldn't be sure, but I thought I heard a touch of reprimand in the sifu's tone.

Without hesitation or protest, T'ang Wen bowed to his master, left hand over right fist, and withdrew a step.