No Mercy
I stepped out of the elevator on the fourth floor, took a left down the hall about thirty feet then took the first right I came to. I stopped directly in front of an expensive, heavy mahogany door with the silver metal numbers 4470 affixed just above a tiny peephole. As usual, I knuckle-tapped the door just loud enough to be heard inside and chanced a nervous glance up and down the hallway. Still empty. Good. I hated being out in the hallway in front of Walt’s. The deadbolt clicked about ten...
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