Colby Agency: Colby Justice Part 6

Steele was almost at her heels. She listened. No sound in the corridor. Ian confirmed that the enemy remained on the third floor. Not likely for much longer though. She had to hurry.

Wrenching the clips free wasn't necessary this time. Their pursuers hadn't bothered to twist them back into position. Holding her breath, she reached out and pushed the grill open.

No shouts...no thudding of footfalls.

Then she moved.

Scrambling as quickly and quietly as possible, she was out of the return duct and on her feet before Steele's feet appeared past the opening.

He slid out, pushed upward to a standing position and placed the grill back into its frame. He checked the area, for blood she presumed. She saw nothing on the gray commercial-grade carpeting or on the wall beneath the return's frame. Or on the grill for that matter. Her heart pounded so hard she felt as if it might jump out of her chest.

They had to hurry!

"One man is moving toward the stairwell," Jim Colby reported.

Steele gestured for her to follow him.

Straight into the VP's office where they had been before. She grabbed his arm, sent him a questioning look. He jerked his head for her to keep moving.

Penny didn't understand his reasoning. The men would surely check this office as well as the president's next door. But, admittedly, Steele had a lot more experience at this than her. She'd have to trust his instincts.

He closed the door since it had been closed when they'd entered, ushered her across the room and into the opening in the wall that the enemy had used for accessing the small file-storage room. She glanced at the patch job she'd done on Steele's suit, hoped he hadn't left a crimson trail or even a drop. Blood had leaked around the tape she'd used to patch his suit.

d.a.m.n it!

As if he'd read her mind, he poked his head and shoulders out of the opening once more. He eased back inside fully and took stock of their situation.

Not good. Even an inexperienced escape artist like her could see that. There was no place to hide. Nowhere to go from here.

The room was maybe five feet by six feet. The walls were lined by file and storage cabinets. There was no way to move them out and hide behind the cabinets. It would be too obvious.

Steele looked up; she followed his gaze.

The ceiling, as in the rest of the building above the main lobby, was ten feet from the floor, not the standard eight.

Before she could ask what he had in mind, he ripped off his gloves, then turned one inside out. He used the lining to dab at the blood around the tape, then tucked both gloves into his backpack. He moved the pack to his chest, then rubbed his hands on his suit to make sure they were clean. She moved her backpack as well, not sure what he intended next.

Whatever his idea, it was better than the one she didn't have.

He pointed upward.

She blinked, confused as h.e.l.l. He didn't bother explaining, instead he hefted himself onto the row of wooden file cabinets to his left. He kept the injured side of his body away from the cabinets so as not to risk leaving any trace of the blood. Penny suddenly understood and climbed up onto the cabinets on the opposite side of the small room.

Steele moved to the middle of the row of cabinets, leaned forward and braced his hands on the wall in front of him. Then, using first one foot then the other, he walked himself up the wall until his lower body was parallel with his upper body. Penny mimicked his movements. Her arms trembled with the effort.

"He's coming down the corridor. Ten seconds and he'll be at your position," Ian informed them via the communications link.

Penny didn't let the warning distract her. One hand, one foot, the other hand, the other foot. A few inches at a time, she moved upward until her backside was pinned against the ceiling. The five feet or so worked perfectly for her. Since she was five-four, she only had to press her chin to her chest to give herself enough room. Steele, on the other hand, was at least six feet. He had a h.e.l.l of a time bowing his body just right to fit into the s.p.a.ce as close to the ceiling as possible.

The door to the VP's office opened, banged into the wall.

He was here.

Penny closed her eyes and counted to ten. She slowed her respiration, forced her mind to relax and her muscles to stay locked in place.

If he heard her breathing...

The man rummaged around the room. She heard the chair behind the desk bank off something nearby. He was checking under the desk. Then he moved across the carpeted expanse to the tiny bathroom.

She prayed she hadn't left her gloves there.

"Someone's been here," the guy in the bathroom reported via his own communications link to his friend in crime.

d.a.m.n. She had.

"I only found one pair of gloves. There may only be one."

Silence reigned as he evidently listened to whatever his friend had to say about the discovery.

How could she have been so stupid?

"You stay there," he advised. "I'll continue looking around down here. If you find him, kill him. We can't let this get back to the boss or we'll be the ones eating a bullet."

Movement in the office told Penny the man was taking another look around. Any second now he would poke his head through that opening and check out the files room where they were hiding.

She turned her head just enough to see how Steele was holding up. The grimace on his face told her he was in serious pain. Her gaze slid down to his right side, the one nearest her. Only the light fixture and maybe eighteen inches of drywall separated them.

The bad guy's arm came through the opening first. In his hand was a large-caliber handgun. His upper body followed, then he stepped fully through.

Penny held her breath.

Don't move. Don't breathe.

The man looked around, swore once, twice, before kicking one of the file cabinets. He mumbled something self-deprecating, then started for the opening.

Relief sang through Penny's veins. But she couldn't relax. Couldn't risk taking or releasing so much as a whisper of air.

A tiny splat of red dropped onto the top of the file cabinet directly below Steele. Her gaze flew to his side. More blood had oozed out around the tape.

The bad guy abruptly stopped...as if he'd heard the sound. It had been so minuscule Penny hadn't even heard it. Had she? Granted, her own blood was roaring in her ears. But surely if the sound had been significant she would have heard it when she'd seen the blood hit.

The man with the gun glanced around the room once more.

If he spotted that drop of blood...

He shoved his way back through the opening and stomped out of the office. Since the door didn't slam, Penny had to a.s.sume he'd left it open.

Her arms and legs trembled with the renewed rush of relief.

The sound of the man's voice in the corridor echoed through the walls. She couldn't understand the m.u.f.fled words, but the tone was unmistakable. He was seriously ticked off.

It wasn't until total silence had ruled for several minutes that Steele started the slow, cautious spider walk downward.

Each time she lifted a hand or foot from its braced position against the wall, it took every ounce of her strength to prevent herself from falling. Coming back down, with her muscles exhausted, was a h.e.l.l of a lot harder than going up had been.

Their specially designed soft-soled shoes were soundless on the tops of the wooden file cabinets. When they were back on the floor, she dropped to her knees and rummaged through her backpack for the suit-repair tape. There was no time for anything but stopping the leak outside his suit.

Steele appeared to understand and didn't ask any questions.

She pressed more gauze to the spot, then secured it with several layers of the suit tape. It wouldn't do a d.a.m.ned thing for his injury but maybe it would prevent his leaving evidence behind.

They needed a place to rest for a few minutes and to properly attend to his injury. A plan would be nice as well.

One that didn't involve dying...or failing to accomplish their mission.

Maybe Steele was right in coming back here. Now that the office had been searched, what were the chances it would be searched again anytime soon?

Ian confirmed that the man on their floor was in another corridor. For now it was clear to move.

Penny maneuvered through the opening into the office. She led the way to the small bath. When Steele was inside with her, she closed the door.

"Keep us apprised of the enemy's position," she said to Ian, "I need to work on Steele's injury."

An affirmative came across the com link.

Steele stripped his suit down to his hips. Again, Penny reminded herself not to gawk at the man's well-honed physique.

Too much bleeding. She wasn't a doctor or a nurse, but she had enough training to know that he'd nicked something that wasn't going to readily give up letting him know. The b.u.t.terfly strips weren't going to help much.

"Use the suit tape."

Her gaze clashed with his. "That'll be h.e.l.l coming off."

"Do it," he ordered in a harsh whisper.

If it kept them alive by ensuring he left no more evidence of their presence, she supposed he could deal with the pain when the time came.

Grabbing a clean towel from the basket on the sink, she carefully removed the tape and gauze she'd applied before. Then the b.u.t.terfly strips. With fresh gauze, the last they had, covered with ointment, she pressed against the jagged wound for as long as she dared. Then she pulled the sides together, using the gauze, and taped the h.e.l.l out of it with the suit tape.

That wouldn't likely come loose. Not even when he wanted it to.

She cleaned the area around it, maybe taking a little more time than was necessary. His skin was smoother than she'd expected. When he'd pulled his suit back into place, she cleaned the b.l.o.o.d.y area on it then tucked the hand towel into her pack. When she'd washed her hands and he'd done the same, they ensured that towel was out of sight as well.

Penny ducked her head down into the sink and drank deeply from the tap water. Felt good against her lips and even better sliding down her throat.

When she stepped aside, Steele did the same. They had water packets but why waste one of them since clean, running water was handy.

"We need to lay low until they're back on the fourth floor," Steele suggested.

Penny agreed with a nod of her head. "Back under the desk?"

It was cramped and uncomfortable...but it was likely the last place the enemy would look.

He headed that way without comment. Ian confirmed that the enemy on their floor was headed back to their corridor. He was making the rounds. Desperate to find the source of his new nightmare.

Steele settled on the floor and scooted beneath the desk. Penny positioned her bottom onto his lap, curled her legs into her chest and pulled the backpacks into place between her knees and the desk.

She leaned her head against the cool wood and tried to relax. That was when she remembered what had proved the most unnerving part of hiding under the desk.

Having her bottom nestled snuggly against Steele's loins.

She tried to ignore the feel of his firm body supporting hers. His inner thighs and pelvis cradled her hips. One strong arm rested on top of the backpacks while the other was propped against her shoulder and head. And the solid, warm chest that beckoned her to melt into it was more than she could resist.

There was no doubting that Ben Steele was a strong, fit man. He knew his body and how to use it to get the job done. She could only imagine how intensely he trained. Not just occasionally either. Most likely every day.

"The enemy has pa.s.sed your position and is back at the point of entry into the return duct," Jim Colby reported, his voice scarcely a whisper in her ear.

That didn't put the guy very far away from their position, but there wasn't a d.a.m.ned thing they could do except sit here and wait.

"When did you come to work for the Equalizers?" she dared to ask in that soft, soft voice she'd become accustomed to using.

There was plenty of light from the window that trickled down beneath the desk. She could see the guard go up in Steele's dark eyes. He didn't want to talk about himself.

"Eighteen months ago."

She waited for more but nothing came. "Why did you give up your rescue work?" Ian had told her that Steele had been top-notch at search and rescue. He would wiggle into places most didn't dare to go.

His eyes grew distant as if he were remembering some long ago event. "A hotel collapsed in Pittsburgh. My team was sent in twenty hours later to determine if there were any more survivors that the high-tech monitors hadn't detected."

She couldn't fathom the courage and determination it must have taken to tunnel his way beneath the rubble. What he must have seen.

"I found two small children alive."

"You were able to save them?"

He nodded. "They were both in bad shape but another two or three hours and they would have been dead. Their mother sent me a card a few months later. They both fully recovered."

That made him a hero. A success. Why would he walk away?

"Was that rarely the case?" Surely for him to turn his back on that profession, he'd seen more failures than successes.

"If there was anyone alive," he said, his expression still distant, "I could find them."

Maybe he just couldn't take the death anymore. No doubt the discovery of bodies far outnumbered the live recoveries.

"I had to go back in, that time," he said, almost to himself.

"In Pittsburgh?"