Ten
Captain Rourke was nervously pacing the hall before the busy nurse’s station, the coffee in his stomach burning its way up to his chest as exhaustion set in. On hearing Carver’s voice, he walked toward detective Martins’ room. “How is she?” Rourke rubbed at his burning chest.
Carver opened his mouth to speak, when the Internal Affairs inspector stormed out of Martins’ room, a murderous glare in his eyes—lips pursed so hard they were turning white beneath his thin moustache. Inspector Benedict looked startled when he noticed his audience. “We need a doctor in there immediately,” he grumbled to the nearest nurse, ignoring the three men staring him down.
At the inspector’s shocking request, Alaric flew toward him, but at the last second shot right past him into the room, the inspector
