2 The best revenge is massive success – FRANK SINATRA

Somewhere in New York, 2008

Oh my God. Oh my God. I'm so late. What's going to happen when I die and my body's never found? Will anybody care? Or will I be one of those unsolved cases in a file somewhere?

Cat looked down at her watch and began to pray for divine intervention once more. She was officially two hours late for her meeting.

Two whole frickin' hours. Crap.

She tried to push herself along the sea of humanity that had just emptied from a nearby subway. Somewhere between a jog and a run in her expensive six-inch heels, Cat deftly maneuvered along the sidewalk. She kept up a slew of steady curses in her mind and cursed the cab driver who had picked today of all days to get a flat tire.

After all, it hadn't been the dark-skinned middle-aged cabbie's fault that her private jet had had to make a turn midway from Washington to New York. It sure as death and taxes wasn't his fault that her boss had deigned to give Cat a new assignment. Just as she was on her way to Washington to wrap up a case. It also wasn't the funky-smelling driver's mistake, who lamely hit on her throughout the ride as she pretended to ignore him. She had only gotten 45 minutes or so to do her research on this new case. She had a whole process and on top of that, she liked to be well prepared and in control of things.

Damn it.

She'd landed in New York fifteen minutes earlier than expected and that had been the only good thing to have happened to her that day.

Because didn't the good times just start rolling then?

Cat's lady luck had probably done a swan dive right into the tequila factory and passed out or gone down for good. Because after landing in the Big Apple it had just been one thing after another until the current mother lode of all mishaps had happened to her.

Seeing as she'd been stuck in New York traffic for the better part of an hour, the cab breaking down within minutes of reaching her destination had been the last straw.

Deciding to run for it, she alighted from the cab in a hurry when her jacket sleeve got caught while closing the door. A much appreciated - not, ripping sound and some frantic tugging later, she realized that more than half the full sleeves of her black Macy's jacket had been irreparably ripped – as the cab sped off. Less so in deference to the mid-July heat and warm sunshine and more to the seriously ruined garment, Cat stowed it in her case.

Instructed by Casanova Cabbie that the offices of Knight Inc. were located just two blocks away, she hoped to at least make it to her destination if not the appointment.

She grabbed her beat-up luggage and thought about how to salvage the situation. The aroma of freshly-baked bread from a nearby bakery made her realize she hadn't even had breakfast yet. As the cars piled up on the street because of her broken-down cab she heard another sound.

Craccccck.

Suddenly losing her balance, she instinctively pushed out her hands to keep from falling. Cat quickly bent to break off the other heel and seemingly oblivious to the admiring glances of other passersby, dashed off.

She finally made it and huffed out a tired sigh as she paused to admire the view before her. John Singer the famous architect of Knight Inc. Towers had once joked that this building was his greatest achievement. Never again in his career would he get another chance to create such a masterpiece again. Also that he would rather get his hands cut off than try to even replicate or build another paltry facsimile to it.

And it so was.

Like a modern impressionist masterpiece, the structure showcased a compound-style entrance to the building. Boasting a 30-foot soaring phoenix against the backdrop of cleverly hidden fountains that mimicked falling rain was a sight to behold. It should have been pretentious, at least symbolically - but it wasn't. Swaying moisture droplets from the waterfall stirred the warm breeze and gave the bronze statue a multicolored halo-like effect. The sweepingly curved edges and polished chrome of the building rising to the skies behind it were equally, if not more awe-inspiring.

The exterior was pure chrome and glass encasing the opulence within, which was even more impressive, if possible. A set of big glass elevators facing floor-to-ceiling windows graced the entrance with a reception and security desk on opposite sides of the room. People scurried to and fro from the entrance flashing their employee cards on a biometric scanner going through metal detectors. The guards checked each individual's personal belongings and waved a security wand over them. She wasn't one for concrete monsters and was more of a romantic-moldings-and-arches Victorian-style architecture kind of girl. But Singer's labor of love was truly impressive art in the purest sense of the word.

Hmm, so this was the building that housed some of the brightest minds of the country developing everything from cutting-edge military and scientific technology to the cure for cancer.

Rushing into the reception, she remembered reading the report her boss Max had e-mailed to her. The building comprised of ninety floors not counting the ten floors in the basement which were for employee parking alone. There were three separate cafeterias on three middle floors that cooked a different cuisine every week. A personal apartment and private helipad were also housed on the top floor.

Ah, the life of the rich, young, and entitled.

"Hi. My name is Katharine Dugall. How may I help you?" A cheery good-looking blonde with baby blues and pouty lips sitting behind the reception glass desk smiled at her.

"Catrina Banning, U.S. military liaison, I have an appointment with Mr. Knight," She handed over her leather-encased credentials.

"Yes. I was told to show you up as soon as you came in. Come along with me. You can store your luggage in the coatroom next to you."

Wow. No disses and no lip.

Though her pursed lips and annoyed expression conveyed her feelings quite clearly. Generally, in her experience, prissy secretaries like Katharine usually reminded others of how their boss was Lord of the Universe and surely, no one was as tardy as her for meeting with God.