The blast had
occurred almost two miles up, so the shockwave wouldn't have done it.
Retrieving a cell phone from her purse, Mandi tapped in an Atlanta number
given to her for the mission.
A woman answered with, "Zero-eight-two-six."
"Angel here."
"Go, Angel."
"Do you have anything else for me?"
"Not a thing. John says 'good job' and you're on standby."
"Thank you."
The woman said, "You're welcome. Enjoy your stay in Atlanta," then she
disconnected.
With water from a small puddle near the entrance, Mandi managed to clean
most of the explosion's residue from her arms and legs. Using her makeup mirror,
she cleaned her face and applied a bit of makeup, then she changed clothes and
rechecked herself.
Judging her appearance normal enough, Mandi removed the flattened soft drink
can that had kept the roof door from latching and headed down to the
forty-second floor.
She cracked the stairwell door slightly and saw that a few people were
waiting for the elevator across the hall. Two minutes later, they were gone and
the hall was empty. Mandi stepped out, took the elevator to the fourth floor,
and headed for the room that had been issued to her for the mission.
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