by Debra Webb
Guilt, fear, whatever, her pulse was hammering again. In spite of his obvious annoyance, she should be able to hang on to some semblance of control now that she was out of that tunnel and in the light.
But that wasn’t happening nearly fast enough.
“I…” She gestured to his side. “We should take a look at your injury.” As she said the words, he flinched. But not because she’d spoken too loudly. Her words had scarcely been a whisper. The area around the tape job she’d done in the darkness was smeared with blood.
That relief she’d been anticipating slowly filtered through her veins. His injury was the perfect excuse. She didn’t have to tell him the truth. That she was claustrophobic. She’d fought the problem for years. Thought she had it under control enough to pretend it wasn’t real.
She’d been lying to herself.
Seriously lying.
Major mistake.
Normally the little issue wouldn’t be a problem. Her assignments wouldn’t take her into places like this under normal circumstances. There had been no need to mention it in the interview with Ian Michaels. Damn it!
She’d done her research. The Colby Agency had hired a deaf woman only six or seven months ago. Penny’s situation was nothing compared to that…it shouldn’t create a problem. Even if she was forced to fess up.
When Steele didn’t growl back at her, she went on in that barely audible whisper. “Since the enemy didn’t come rushing after us when your suit tore, maybe we can safely assume they don’t have a thermal scanner. We’re safe here for the moment as long as we’re quiet. Let’s see what the damage is so we can get on with our assignment.” Sounded completely logical to her.
“Do we have a problem?” Ian Michaels’s voice echoed in her ear, adding another layer of tension to her already runaway reactions. Steel stiffened as he heard the same question.
Steele touched his mic to activate the audio on his end. “We’re checking the injury I sustained when my suit was torn,” he explained, keeping his voice whisper soft. “I may have to remove my suit. Keep us posted if trouble heads our way.”
The silence that radiated for the next five seconds revealed the hesitation Ian felt at the idea. “Understood. We’ll keep you informed.”
More of that knee-weakening relief roared through Penny. She didn’t want to screw this up—for those who needed rescuing or for herself.
She and Steeled dropped their backpacks onto the tiled floor of the tiny bathroom. Penny peeled off her gloves, then her head gear and exhaled an audible sigh.
Steele studied her as he did the same before reaching for the front zipper of his suit. He was suspicious. Penny avoided direct eye contact by turning to the sink and rinsing her face and hands. Her hands still shook. She glared at the traitors, then grabbed a hand towel and blotted her skin dry.
Steele continued to stare at her.
She tossed the towel aside and ran her fingers through her hair. If she had been smart she would have allowed her gaze to meet his rather than having it stick like glue to his muscled chest as he stripped away the upper portion of the suit.
The skintight material peeled off his shoulders and down his arms, revealing his upper torso. The injury was on his right side, just above his lean waist. She blinked to dispel the image of rippled abs. Of course he would be in excellent physical condition. His job required as much. She should have expected as much. But somehow seeing all that awe-inspiring terrain still startled her.
She shifted her attention to her backpack and removed the first-aid kit. It wasn’t much, just the essentials, but it would have to do.
After locating a clean hand towel on the shelf above the toilet, she wet it and started to clean the wound.
“I can do that,” he said, the statement a fierce rumble under his breath.
“I imagine this is something I’m better trained to do than you,” she tossed back as quietly as her frustration level would allow.
He didn’t argue further, just stood there watching her every move, brooding.
With the wound cleaned, she spread the items she would need on the counter and dropped into a crouch in front of him. The ragged incision still seeped a little. Antibiotic ointment and butterfly strips wouldn’t likely stop it right away, but they would help. She pressed the damp cloth over the wound and held it for a bit in hopes of stanching the last of the seepage.
His face remained stoic. His close-cropped dark hair kept it from appearing mussed after removing his headgear. Lucky him. Her wild mane was a mess. She was pretty sure Ian hadn’t mentioned Steele being former military. That made her wonder at his short hair. Maybe he preferred it so short in deference to the job. She could definitely see how digging and ferreting his way into dangerous crevices and tunnels would make longer hair bothersome.
Setting the damp, bloody towel aside, she quickly stretched the butterfly strips across the wound, pulling each side tightly across the skin. When she’d accomplished that goal, she applied the ointment to the gauze and placed it over the injury. She taped the gauze snugly into place.
“That feel okay?”
He grunted what might have been a yes.
That was about the extent of what she could do with the limited supplies they had brought with them. Not exactly a professional job.
Her heart rate had slowed and her pulse was back to something resembling normal. For that she was immensely grateful. All she needed now was a moment to get a grip and then they could proceed. She fully recognized that every moment wasted was one that could make all the difference.
Focus on the calm. Keep those slow even breaths coming.
She packed up the first-aid supplies, dropped the kit into her pack, and tossed the soiled hand towel into the lidded trash receptacle, then reached for her headgear. Steele stopped her, catching her wrist in his hand.
The calm she’d scarcely regained scattered for parts out of reach.
“What happened back there?”
Summoning her courage, she turned her face to his. “I knew your injury needed attention.” She shrugged. “In my experience men like to put things off. You’re no good to anyone unless you’re fully prepared when we attain our goal. We can’t take a chance like that. I shouldn’t have to remind you of that.” Good point.
He moved his head side to side so slightly that if she hadn’t been looking directly at him she would have missed it altogether. “No way was that abrupt change in plan about me.”
That trapped sensation sent her heart rate climbing once more. Do not lose control again, she ordered. Didn’t do any good. “You’re overreacting.” Put him on the defensive. Keep this about him. “This was a necessary deviation.”
He glanced at what looked like a diver’s watch on his wrist. “Do you realize how much time this detour cost us?” He surveyed the small room that seemed to grow smaller with every beat of her heart. “This was unnecessary. I’ve been in a lot worse situations with a lot more going against me. Can you say the same?”
There it was. The you’re-not-qualified-for-this charge. Maybe she didn’t have his experience in circumstances such as these, but she was the only one on either of their teams who met the physical requirements to be his partner. Enough said.
“I’m going to let that one pass,” she said, her voice, though a mere whisper, brimming with fury. This bathroom is not that small. Don’t think about it. Prepare to go. Ignore everything else.
“Maybe you are.” Her gaze shot to his. Another shake of his head, this one far more resolute. “But I’m not about to let it go.”
He released her. She rubbed at the burning flesh. “What does that mean? Not that we’re pressed for time or anything,” she tacked on with enough irritation to sound legit.
“I heard the changes in your respiration those last few minutes. You were scared to death.” His dark eyes narrowed. “Your hands were shaking when you patched me up. Even now—” he reached up, dared to clasp her by the chin “—that same fear still has you in its grasp. What’s
going on, Alexander?”
What was he? A mind reader? “I don’t know what you’re suggesting, but I’m fine.” She pulled her chin free of his hand. “Let’s go.”
“Ben, you okay?”
This time it was Jim Colby’s voice that whispered in Penny’s earpiece. She hoped Steele didn’t say to his boss, for all to hear, what he’d just said to her. Her days at the Colby Agency would be over before she’d officially begun if her decision not to be totally honest screwed up this operation.
“Affirmative,” Steele murmured, his eyes saying otherwise.
As dark as those brown eyes were, she couldn’t miss the accusation glimmering there.
“You’ve gone undetected it would seem for thirteen minutes,” Ian said. “It appears that the enemy does not have the technology to detect your presence. However, it would be a mistake to let your guard down too far.”
Thank God for that bit of good news, no matter that Ian had qualified it with a warning. Penny closed her eyes and struggled to summon up her composure. She had to do this right. She’d let her new partner see too much already. Keep it together. Just a little while longer and this would be done.
“Copy that,” Steele confirmed. “We’ll be back on track momentarily.”
When she opened her eyes once more Steele still stared at her.
“We are okay, aren’t we?”
“Of course.” She reached for her headgear again.
“I’ve been in a lot of tight places. Dark places,” he added, his voice pointed. “I recognize what fear feels and smells like. You were scared. You still are. Don’t try to deny it.”
Why the hell didn’t he just let it go?
“We’re partners, right?” She pulled on the ski-mask-type headgear and started tucking her hair up into it. She didn’t bother with the skullcap this time. “As long as I complete the task I’ve been assigned, what’s the problem if I’m a little scared?” Understatement of the millennium. “After all, there are men with guns up there. I’ve had the training. I can hit the target, but I’ve never had to shoot another human being.”
The tension in his expression eased marginally. “Just make sure you don’t hesitate if the need arises.”
She forced her chin to dip in an acknowledging nod. “I’ll try my best. I suppose I wasn’t as prepared for this on that score as I thought. When Ian Michaels called me in I was surprised to say the least. That my first assignment at the Colby Agency is this…is a little disconcerting. I don’t want to screw up. It’s a lot of pressure.”
The suspicion was back in his eyes. She’d said too much. That was what she did when she got nervous. She rambled. Not good. She had to keep her head on and her mouth shut.
Instead of questioning her further, he threaded his arms back into the suit.
Too much talk wasn’t a good thing. But since no one had rushed down to check out the situation she assumed the enemy hadn’t taken steps to listen in on the other floors. Maybe only on the fourth floor. If she and Steele were lucky, those bastards weren’t nearly as smart as they wanted to appear.
The whir of the zipper whispered in the silence that had lapsed around them. She considered the snag in his suit. The patch job she’d done on it, in the dark no less, still looked good to go.
“I don’t think we need the headgear.” He knelt, shoved his into his backpack.
She removed the headgear, bent down and grabbed her pack. That sounded damned good to her. She gladly tucked the headgear inside her pack. Her hair was still damp with sweat. Wearing these suits had been a necessary precaution but seriously uncomfortable. Then again, she wouldn’t be comfortable in that metal tunnel regardless of what she wore.
Steele moved out the small room first. Penny followed. He stopped to pull on his pack. She followed his cue. All they had to do was get into the corridor and to the return’s opening without being spotted. Running into the enemy wasn’t really a big worry at this point. Ian would have let them know if there were any warm bodies on this floor or headed in this direction from one of the stairwells.
Her partner suddenly stopped midway in the room. She caught herself just before bumping into his back.
He turned to her, studied her eyes and face a moment. “Are you just nervous about your first assignment and being armed or are you claustrophobic?”
She blinked to conceal the surprise in her eyes, then rearranged her face into one of irritation and confusion. “If you mean I don’t particularly care for closed-in spaces, then you’d be right. Who does? Are we going or what?”
Steele scrutinized her a moment more. “If you aren’t up to this, tell me now. I don’t want you deep into that metal tunnel and freaking out on me. The closer we get to the fourth floor, the more important absolute silence will be.”
His words inspired just enough fury to fuel her courage. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” She walked around him, headed for the door. She hated, hated, hated that she’d let him see that weakness.
She could do this. Maybe she hadn’t killed anyone or even had to fire a weapon at another person. Maybe she didn’t like dark, cramped places. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t as fully capable of getting the job done as he was.
This was a new beginning, a fresh start. She wasn’t about to let this Neanderthal put her on the spot just because she’d gotten off to a bumpy start.
She could handle this.
“Heads up,” Jim Colby said in her ear. “We have two bodies headed your way.”
Penny froze.
They couldn’t risk going back into the corridor. There was no access from here.
She turned on her heel to face Steele.
“What do we do?”
“We hide and hope like hell they don’t find us.”
Chapter Six
There was no choice.
Ben had no alternative but to assume a sitting position as deep beneath the massive oak desk as possible in the office they had only moments before exited. The slot designed to slide one’s chair and knees into hadn’t been intended for one person’s entire body, much less two. Yet, he sat with his knees bent, legs crossed and Alexander curled up in his lap.
They barely fit into the space. Probably wouldn’t have if they hadn’t basically meshed as one. The ability to twist and turn and curl up proved once again essential. He held his weapon in his right hand, as did she. He hoped she could use it when the time came.
His back was pressed against the modesty panel which was, thankfully, solid and not the louvered kind. The slash on his side stung like hell, hurt actually. On a scale of one to ten, it was maybe a six. That he could ignore. The disruption to the schedule, on the other hand, was an issue.
For now, he would reserve judgment on Alexander’s odd reaction.
Ben tapped his mic twice in answer to Ian Michaels’s question as to whether or not they had managed to get out of sight.
For how long, Ben couldn’t say. But for now.
Booted footsteps thudded on the carpet in the corridor outside the office. Ben held his breath, listened intently.
The door abruptly swung open as Michaels’s voice simultaneously echoed in Ben’s earpiece warning him that two members of the enemy’s team were coming through the door.
“I’m telling you this isn’t the one,” a voice growled. “This is the VP’s office. The president’s is next door. That’s the one we need.”
“You better know what you’re talking about,” a second voice snapped. “We don’t have much time. Pederson won’t hesitate to kill both of us if he figures out what we’re up to. You know that.”
“All we have to do is check in from time to…” The rest of the words were muffled by the closing of the door and the two men moving to the next office.
“They’re right next door,” Michaels confirmed.
Ben tapped his mic to activate his side of voice communications, then murmured, “Lake Shore Savings and Loan, right?”
Jim Colby confirmed Ben’s recollection.
> Didn’t take a criminal profiler to figure that one out. The two assumed or somehow knew there was something negotiable on the floor—in the office next door apparently. Unbeknownst to their other pals and their boss, assuming that was the one named Pederson mentioned, they intended to capitalize on the situation.
Bad, bad timing for Ben.
Alexander shifted her awkward position just a fraction, tightened her hold on the two backpacks pressed against her chest.
Ben gritted his teeth. Her well-toned backside was playing havoc with his ever hardening front side, no matter that he was injured or that he was in the worst possible situation strategically speaking. Apparently, his lower anatomy had no intention of being put off, no matter the circumstances.
She turned her face to his. “We have to find a way out of here.”
No kidding.
Going out the door would be suicide. At this point he wasn’t completely sure they should move. The slightest sound could alert the two next door to their presence. It was a logical conclusion since Ben could hear their voices, muffled for the most part, through the evidently thin wall separating the two offices.
They could not access the return part of the ventilation system through the ceiling. The building had been designed to preclude that avenue. The ductwork was basically the only portion of the entire building that wasn’t wired to the security system, except for the roof maintenance access. The designers hadn’t seen the basement access or the endless miles of metal tunnel as problems since none of it could be accessed from the outside. The roof system was encased behind steel bars and heavily wired, preventing anyone from attempting to access the duct system from there. The basement would have been impossible to reach without tripping the security system except for going through that three-foot support wall as Ben had so carefully done.
The whole infrastructure was state-of-the-art…leaving him and Alexander trapped for now and the rescue operation on hold.
Ironically, the one thing they could not do was sit here and play dead for much longer.
There had to be a way to reach the return opening they had exited or another one on this floor.