the sixty-eighth floor, Dorsey Russo stood before the glass wall,

ead slightly. "Mr. Russo, the file is here. Also, we confirmed the badge

d and fifty bucks at me... she's got nerve." He loosened his silk tie an inch. "Fed, use every channel we have. Ru

away,

g around her. Before she could reach her desk, the HR supervisor intercepted her and pointed toward

ecked and logged before you leave t

ng from the morning's workload, and a sheen of cold sweat brok

her foot out, kicking a tall stack of sorted folders off

hest. "If you're going to do grunt work, move faster. Stop

ed amused glances and tur

ning as she stacked the folders one by one. Sta

utting. "You got yours by keeping the HR manager's bed warm. So b

long you can keep that attitude up!" S

gering hangover combined with sheer exhaustion made the room spin. A strange, heavy cramping sensation tugged low in her

d massaged her stiff wrist. As she walked back to her desk to g

ame flashed on the screen. J

ie! Get to Manhattan Private Hospital right now! Your g

g, she bolted out of the office, sprinted through the