Marishka dropped the phone and it swung ominously, its dead tone incessant in her ears.  

 

MARISHKA

Whatever shall I do? How shall my questions be answered??

​

Her eyes swept the darkened office desperately. There on the informer's desk, a laptop. As she crawled toward it, heavy footsteps sounded on the landing beyond the office's brittle door. There was no time to lose.

 

Email, Marishka! For the love of God, emailllll!!!