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... he moment the doors closed behind them the noise hit him fully. It was late morning, just past eleven, and the station was alive in a way that felt heavy rather than busy. Phones rang nonstop. Radios crackled with clipped voices and codes. Boots moved fast across tiled floors that had been worn dull by decades of footsteps. Officers leaned over desks arguing quietly. Others stood in small clusters speaking in low urgent tones. A few civilians sat on metal benches along the walls, tense and tired ...
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