Someone heralded the arrival of a camera crew and equipment and shepherded
them to one side of the doors to a ballroom, where they began setting up their
lights, reflectors, and other gear. Two hotel employees wheeled a big-screen TV
to the same area and plugged it in, then left.
Oh, great. If John's people had missed even one copy of the pictures or
failed to properly intimidate even one news hound, she could be in the middle of
this crowd when some talking head said, "This footage just arrived..." and
everybody saw her airlifting a taxi on that huge damned screen.
Would they do that after being contacted by the NIA? Oh, hell, yes, they
would, even if it meant having someone 'anonymously' send the pics to several
news outfits at once so they could cover their asses later.
Mandi spun on her heel and -- again at a march step, but this time with a
destination in mind -- headed for the walkway where she'd made her Atlanta
debut.
Disdaining the revolving door, she used the left side door in a manner that
made the mechanism ring and clatter and continued down the walkway with a glance
at the spot where the explosive taxi had been.
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