Through the stairwell door and down the corridor toward her room she went. A
man in a suit -- one of Frank's people -- glanced out of one of the rooms and
recognized her with a nod and a small salute. Mandi nodded back as she passed,
but her stride remained constant until she reached her door.
Once in her room, Mandi picked up the TV's remote as she set her purse and
key card on the bed, flicked the channel to WNN, and noted the time on the
screen bar.
Five-fifty-eight. Two minutes to newstime. Mandi sat on the edge of the bed
and watched the remnants of an item about some event in Marseilles, France, that
didn't seem particularly newsworthy to her.
The cell phone in her purse chirped and she reached for it with more than a
trace of irritation. Someone had to choose just this moment to call her...
Tapping it on, she said, "Angel here."
"Dragonfly here. You sound a little tense, milady. Sounds as if we're
watching the same channel."
Listening to the background sounds at his end, Mandi said, "Yes, we are. It
sounds as if you're in a bar, Dragonfly."
"Only because I am, ma'am.
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