“You’re going back to Bangkok on the next plane,” Lee says.

McKay maintains self-control, at the same time as congratulating himself on his usual good luck. He is simply one of those hyper-neat guys who kind of constellate everything around them so that, even without his thinking about it, events conspire to conform to his will. The journey is twenty hours plus, and he probably can get on a flight that morning if he kicks ass. In other words, Lalita - naked - will be servicing him again in less than a day.

Keeping a straight face: “Certainly, Mr. Lee. What’s the problem?”

Lee looks directly into his digital camera. By making certain adjustments on his laptop McKay can enlarge those heavily lidded eyes until they almost fill the screen. He’s done this many times, out of curiosity. It never makes any difference. Even magnified as much as ten times, Lee’s eyes still have no life in them.

“It’s wet,” Lee says.

McKay pales somewhat and experiences a hundred-and-eighty degree mood swing. Maybe his luck isn’t so good today, after all. Wet?

“Well, now, Mr. Lee,” McKay begins.

“I already know what you don’t do,” Lee says.

This is a reference to something McKay witnessed at the beginning of their relationship. Shaken, he found a way to explain to Lee that it was very counter-productive for Lee to implicate his main and most trusted lawyer-fixer in that kind of thing. Lee had agreed, to his relief.

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