In Icarus' Shadow

by Matthew Jones

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Nadia nearly collapsed against the wall of the stairwell as she slipped in through the door from the lobby, feeling her knees shake from the sudden surge of adrenalin coursing through her veins. A surge brought on by having had to sneak past Tyrone Burgess with less than ten feet between them, half-expecting him to turn around at any moment. And in her sock-feet no less, with her shoes clutched tightly in one hand. It was bad enough she had had to wait for him to finish talking with Pasta-Jacket for her opening, but when he had turned to go on his way and nearly seen her she had almost had a heart attack. Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and cracked the door open. Seeing Burgess striding off down a hallway on the opposite side of the open space from her hiding place, she sighed in relief and closed the door again.

  That was way too close, she admonished herself. I can't afford to be sloppy here if I'm going to find Orion without getting caught. What in the world is that scrawny thug even been doing here, anyway? Doesn't Burgess hate him? Unless... She perked up immediately as realization dawned on her. Of course! That has to be Orion!

  With this discovery spurring her into motion, she pulled her shoes back on and began to climb the plain grey steps before her. Ascending to the second floor, she stood before the stairwell door and smoothed her slacks and blouse with her hands, then ran her fingers through her hair to straighten it. Composing herself, she opened the door and exited the stairwell, doing her utmost to appear like she was supposed to be there after-hours; fortunately for her, there was no one there to judge whether her performance was a convincing one or not. She could see the white-shirted back of a security guard disappearing down the right-hand hallway and silently thanked her good luck for that much of a break. Scurrying to the elevator as quietly as she could, she pressed the call button and shrank to one side as the doors opened. Making sure the interior was empty, she slid inside and pressed the button for the forty-ninth floor.

  Feeling the elevator begin its journey upwards, she nodded in satisfaction. Okay, Orion is probably at the top of this building by now; he's been gone since this morning so he's had plenty of time. He'll probably be going through the CEO's things for more information on the umbrella corporation that owns this place, Mytikas Multinational. Fitch's office is on the fiftieth floor, but according to my research there's a penthouse one floor higher that can only be reached from a separate staircase. If Miss Fitch was going to hide anything, it would be there. Checking the elevator's progress, she noted that she was nearly halfway to her destination already. All right, not long now. I'll get off on the forty-ninth floor; I don't know how close Fitch's office on the fiftieth is to the elevators and I don't want her knowing I'm here. There shouldn't be very many guards, considering how high up we are. There's no point guarding the top of a building, after all, since any thief has to come in and go out through the bottom. Still, there's no point in getting careless.

  Hearing the elevator chime, she pulled back against the wall and peered out into the hall. Seeing no one, she tiptoed out and let the doors close behind her. So far, so good. Glancing around to take in her surroundings, she saw that this floor was similar to the rest of the building, or at least the floors from Burgess' office and up. The floor was the same polished hardwood and the walls were still that flawless matte black. There were only two significant differences, in truth. The first was a small, but sturdy-looking, wooden desk set facing the elevators and stairs; polished, as everything seemed to be up here and with its swivel chair presently vacant. A security checkpoint of sorts, she reasoned. The second difference was the organization of the rooms themselves. Instead of multiple offices per hallway, there were suddenly very few. With the doors closed to her she could not say for sure what the reason for this was, though she suspected that she had crossed into the executive's neck of the woods, suggesting that each office was significantly larger than those below. It also made the security desk seem all the more practical; she doubted very much that the various department heads and other bigwigs would take kindly to having guards disrupt their meetings, even accidentally.

  Deciding she had wasted enough time getting the lay of the land, she turned and made a beeline for the stairwell door, just on the other side of the second set of elevator doors from her. Wincing with every tap her shoes produced against the polished floor, Nadia went as quickly as she dared, dearly wishing that the dull grey carpeting of the bottom floors had been used here as well. It may not have been pretty to look at, but she was discovering an entirely different appreciation for it. Still, with no one around to hear her, she didn't feel that she needed to take the noise-producing footwear off for a second time. Unfortunately, that did not prevent her nerves from drawing themselves taut enough to use for guitar strings.

  Reaching the stairwell door after what felt like much longer than the ten seconds it had actually been, she reached for the gleaming metal handle; and froze when she heard a tap against the floor that did not come from her own feet, as they were presently flat against the ground. Seizing the handle of the door, she wrenched it open, but felt a strong grip fasten itself around her upper left arm before she could get through it. Hauled roughly backwards, she was kept from regaining her footing while being unceremoniously dragged to the security desk, where she was pushed into the swivel chair behind it. Holding her down with one hand pressed against her shoulder, the guard that had caught her produced a pair of handcuffs from his belt. Struggling unsuccessfully against his weight advantage, Nadia felt something cold closing around her wrist as the click of the first metal circlet closing reached her ears. Leaning back, she brought her legs up, bracing her feet against his shins. Pushing off as hard as she could, she propelled the swivel chair backwards across the floor, but her progress was abruptly halted as the cuff on her wrist pulled her arm roughly back. Wincing as her tendons cried out in protest against the jerking motion, she saw the guard had closed his fist tightly around the remaining cuff; it was his weight that had stopped her, though it had pulled him off-balance. Bracing her feet, she grabbed the circlet around her wrist with her free hand and hauled back with both arms, causing the man to stumble forwards. Falling onto her, he landed awkwardly with his stomach against her knees, driving the air from his lungs and sending him crumpling to the floor. Pulling the other end of her cuffs from his weakened grip, Nadia started to push herself backwards, but felt the chair tipping as the man grabbed a hold of one of the wheels.

  Toppling to the floor, she felt the arm of the chair being driven into her side on impact, forcing her to gasp for air, as well as from the pain. The guard, having regained his feet, loomed over her, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. Aiming her heel at his face, she missed her mark by mere centimetres, grazing a scrape along his cheek instead. Seizing her leg, he pulled upwards; toppling her head-over-heels and disorienting her long enough for him to seize the other end of the cuff attached to her arm and clip it to the chair. Sprawled out on the floor the way she was, she was only able to glare reproachfully at him at his success. Climbing to her feet, she attempted to pick up the chair itself, but the guard seized her by the shoulders and pushed her back into a sitting position. Glaring at one another, both parties took a moment to catch their breath, as each of them was panting from the struggle.

  Studying the man, Nadia finally got a reasonable look at him; he was in his mid-thirties, by the looks of it, with reddish hair and freckles. She wondered, briefly, if he was any relation to the CEO, she had heard she had similar features. She also noticed that he had no gun on his belt. This encouraged her for a moment, at least until she spotted a second pair of handcuffs in the man's hands. Grabbing one of her ankles, she soon found herself fastened to her seat in a much more troublesome manner.

  "There now," she heard the man say, speaking for the first time and in a surprisingly jovial tone. "That should keep you from getting into too much trouble, Missy."

  She glared at him anew. "All right, I'm cuffed and you've got me. Is there any particular reason yo
u cuffed my left arm and right leg, by the way, or were you just being weird on purpose?"

  He smiled smugly. "Try standing, you'll see why."

  Nadia sighed, but didn't try it. She didn't need to; she could imagine what would happen. Had he cuffed her all on one side, she could have approximated a limping run without too much difficulty, but by cuffing her on different sides, it became more difficult to coordinate. She could probably have worked it out with a little practice, but it made any sudden escape attempts harder to pull off. "No, thank you. So; where do we go from here?"

  "You go nowhere," he chuckled. "I'll just step over there and call down for someone to come get you. And no funny ideas, you know as well as I do that you're not getting far like this."

  She waited until he had turned before sticking her tongue out at him; this did not make her feel much better, but any defiance was better than none so far as she was concerned. Before the guard had taken more than three steps, however, they were abruptly plunged into darkness as every light on the floor switched off. Suddenly unable to see her captor, Nadia could nevertheless still approximate which direction he was in by listening for the sound of soft grumbling under his breath. A cone of light sprang to life in his hand and she saw he had produced a flashlight from his belt.

  Turning back to her, he pulled a second one from his belt and offered it to her. "Here. I have to go check this out, you stay here."

  Taking the proffered source of illumination, the captive woman snorted quietly. "As if I can go anywhere like this."

  "Well, when you put it like that," he grinned, then turned and moved off towards the stairwell at a brisk pace, leaving her alone in the dark. Before long, even the retreating sound of his myriad belt accessories jangling against one another was gone.

  Flicking the flashlight on, Nadia swept the area around herself; there had to be something here to get loose with. Using her free hand, she tugged at each drawer in the security desk, but found they were all locked and did not so much as jar when she pulled on them.

  "Stupid, well-made, theft-proof drawers," she muttered under her breath. Growling, she went back to sweeping the room with the flashlight, hoping to find some manner of inspiration; she certainly didn't expect herself to spontaneously develop the skills of an escape artist, but if she could pop the arm of the chair out of place then she could try to dismantle the dratted thing and get her leg free. Admittedly, it was not very Houdini of her, but she was trying to be practical.

  Seeing a glint on the floor as her light swept over it, she refocused the beam on the location in question. Wheeling her chair over, she leaned forward and plucked the small object from the floor for a closer look. Holding the flashlight in her cuffed hand, she held the cold, metal object up for inspection and discovered that it was, in fact, several objects connected together by a steel ring. And they all made her grin with enormous satisfaction.

  She wondered how long it would take that guard to notice he had dropped his keys.