“If they had voided my ID card, this would be a short mission. I stopped in the bustling marble lobby of the New York Mail building to pick up some mints at the newsstand, as the lunch crowd hurried past me—buzzed but unwilling—back to their desks. I did a recon and didn’t spot any new goons waiting to tackle me. My ID card opened the Plexiglas starting gate at the turnstiles and I was in. That’s the thing about big organizations like a media company or an oil tanker; it takes a while for orders... to filter down from the bridge to the engine room. I snugged my NEW YORK MAIL baseball cap onto my aching head and strode to the elevators before anybody stopped me. I used my ID card again on the thirteenth floor to open the glass doors bearing the NEW YORK MAIL logo and waved to the receptionist behind the counter. She gave a friendly wave back; obviously not someone who actually read the paper. I opened the second door and walked into the City Room. Several people froze when they saw me, literally stopped in their tracks, mouths agape.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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