Thought he wouldn't be the first to admit it, Harlan needed a vacation. If he wasn't chasing criminals at work, he was home thinking of ways to find them more efficiently. If he was anything it was a workaholic, even though he hated the term. He would rather think of anyone not as devoted as himself as lazy.
Take a break, the chief had said.
Go see the ocean or something. You've earned it.In his mind, that was simply a line of bull. He had obviously not earned it; Fyodor, Stella, and their associates were still on the streets, the department hadn't made a solid arrest in months, and he was working doubly hard with nothing to show for it. How was that "earning" anything?
The officer shook his head, unable to understand it. Whatever. He had better just take today off, if only to get the chief off his back, then it was right back to work. He hadn't worked his way to the top of the organized crime special task force just to take days off.