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Unformatted text preview: is spoken, no problem! OK?" He flashed a smile at Stolov and opened the door of the car for him and waited for him to get in. Now it was Stolov who was suspicious, uneasy, even a little frightened. And I barely know how to pull the trigger, Yuri thought. Twenty-six MONA had never thought her first days at Mayfair and Mayfair would be like this. She was at the big desk in Pierce's spacious dark-paneled office, typing furiously on a 386 SX IBM-compatible com- puter, just a tad slower than the monster she had at home. Rowan Mayfair was still alive now eighteen hours after surgery, and twelve hours after they'd taken her off the machines. Any minute she might stop breathing. Or she might live for weeks. Nobody really knew. The investigation was forging ahead. Nothing to do right now but stay with the others, and think, and wait, and write. She banged away on the white keyboard, faintly annoyed by the noisy click. "Confidential to File from Mona Mayfair" was her title. It was protected. No one...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10