“Neil could see a single light filtering out through a window on the second floor. “Do you think that’s the main office? Who could be up there?” Neil asked, getting the creeps. “Maybe it’s Mr. Beed?” Sam suggested. They headed toward a freight elevator bay and pushed the up arrow. The doors opened and closed with a pleasant chime. The lift offered two buttons: W, the floor they were on, and P. “Ooh, where to go?” said Biggs, stepping alongside Neil in the elevator. “Gotta be the presidential sui...te,” said Biggs, who pushed the P button with an excited finger. They started to move up. “If Mr. Beed is there, this could be a good time to get some feedback on the smell technology he bought from me. I’ve been trying to set up a meeting for months.” Neil glanced at his watch. It was seven P.M. back home in Colorado. After some quick mental math, he realized he had roughly twelve hours to save every living shark before getting to homeroom. He probably needed to give his parents an update, too.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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