Pittsburgh City Hall, the Mayor's Office.
This was the heart of the Steel City, its center of power.
Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the city skyline twinkled in the cold winter night.
Searchlight beams from the Inland Port cut through the darkness, showcasing the powerful pulse of industrial rebirth.
The office was brightly lit.
Joe Miller stood before the desk.
The former homicide detective looked even more exhausted than he did on stakeouts during snowy nights.
The hem of his trench coat was speckled with wet mud—dirt from the Pennsylvania border.
He placed the thick investigation report on the mahogany desk.
THWAP.
The sound of the file landing was soft, yet it made the air in the room feel even heavier.
Leo Wallace sat in a large leather chair, a Montblanc Pen in his hand.
He stared at the bright red "Top Secret" stamp on the cover.
"How bad is it?" Leo asked.
"Worse than we thought."
