A Baby's Cry at Midnight I Have Thirty Cops Inside
Language: en
Just past midnight, the muffled cry of a baby echoed outside my thirtieth-floor apartment door. My heart dropped to my stomach. Cold sweat prickled my spine. Then I remembered the two undercover cops crashing in my guest rooms. I pressed the intercom button, faking absolute panic. The screen flickered to life, showing a woman with tear-streaked cheeks begging me to let her hide. I smiled soundlessly and unlocked the reinforced steel door. She would never know she was stepping into a perfectly baited trap. And nobody told her that the bedroom down the hall held a lot more than just two cops.