<div class="floatleft">(http://img819.imageshack.us/img819/3311/filmnoir3.jpg)</div><strong>Drake Holland</strong><br/><strong>Age:</strong>35<br/><strong>Crime:</strong>Aggravated assault, torture, attempted murder<br/><strong>Location:</strong>New New York, Public Library<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>---<br/><hr/>The loud, staccato splintering noise caused Drake's head to jerk up, and the scream had him out of his seat.  Unbelievably, it seemed that all Hell had broken loose.   How long had the fire been burning on the story above?  Had the place been engulfed in flames during the entire meeting?  How was it possible that no one had noticed it?  Shrugging quickly out of his coat, throwing it over his left arm, he attempted to use it as a flimsy shield against the heat and fire as he inched closer to the shrink.  He could see the woman, barely, pinned in by pieces of timber and detritus from the floor above.  He grit his teeth, and slunk forward, trying to reach her, but it was no good.  There was no way he could get to her without being badly burned himself.<br/><br/>Cursing, he turned back to the group.  "Help me find an extinguisher!" he called out. "There's got to be one around here somewhere.  And those of you who have phones, call Emergency services!"  He plucked his glasses from his eyes, casting wildly about for a fire extinguisher.