In the innermost private office of Steel, Brookings and DuQuesne stared at each other across the massive desk. DuQuesne's voice was cold, his black brows were drawn together. "Get this, Brookings, and get it straight. I'm shoving off at twelve o'clock tonight. My advice to you is to lay off Richard Seaton, absolutely. Don't do a thing. _Nothing, hold everything._ Keep on holding it until I get back, no matter how long that may be," DuQuesne shot out in an icy tone.…
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