I had to kill him, to protect my family, but I didn't have to, I couldn't, torture him. I needed to make it quick and clean. I could have sworn I saw ... fleeting look of disappointment in his eyes, through the pain in them, as I reached my decision.All of this flew through my brain in the brief seconds it took him to pull himself up from the floor. One arm was useless, he could hardly stand on the one leg, and he was obviously in great pain. But all of that was just damage from the fight, not. I also checked out the other offices. They were small with the gray metal furniture. What I noticed was that, aside from a small number of reference texts, none of the desks had notebooks, not even pads to take phone messages on. Most of the desks didn't even have drawers.Crossing the hall, I found the file room. It was packed from floor to ceiling with gray file cabinets and wooden shelves. Row upon row of notebooks and boxes. Everything had a file and project number on it. Nice and neat.. More

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