She was frozen. Completely unable to move. Blood pounded in her ears and she was almost certain she could feel her heart hammering against the ribcage, as eager to run for it as she was. She had confronted criminals a million times before, put herself in countless dangerous situations and always come out on top.

Until today.

Today was different. Today, she found herself in an alley way facing a very desperate drug dealer holding a gun with no back up and no way out.

She had never suspected the case had involved drugs. She and Mr. Steele had thought they were investigating an art theft. It wasn't until she arrived at the warehouse that she saw the cocaine being hidden in the art frames – and the man responsible for it.

Inwardly she berated herself for not waiting for Mr. Steele as Mildred had suggested. She had been so stupidly eager to solve the case without his help, that she had confronted the suspect – a man named Anthony Chase – without any kind of plan, or the agency gun. The warehouse where he had hidden the drugs was so isolated that nobody would hear her scream.

"Mr. Chase," she hated how tentative her voice sounded, how shaky and frightened. "You don't have to do this. Turn yourself in, and I am sure the police will…"

"The police?" He gave a high pitched laugh and waved the gun wildly. Beads of sweat ran down her face. He was clearly unhinged and pushed past the point of rational thought. Anything could happen and out here, without anybody knowing where she was…

They might never find her body. Her mother would never know what had happened to her. Mr. Steele…

"You think you're going to call the cops?" He was getting louder now and moving towards her. She backed up and felt the terrifying solidity of the concrete wall behind her. No escape.

"I think you have a lot of drugs in there," she told him, hoping like hell she sounded calm. A clear head was the only way through this. Well, a clear head and to lie through her teeth and hope he bought it. "I am not the only one who knows about this location. The police, and my colleagues are on their way."

"Then I guess I better scram," Chase said as he held the gun steadier and placed his finger on the trigger. Laura's breath caught in her throat and she fought to keep from crying. The last thing she would do in her final moments would be to cry.

"They know your name!" She blurted, hoping to buy her some time. Time for what, she had no idea. She just knew she had to keep him talking and prey that Mr. Steele had the presence of mind to put the clues together when he arrived at the office and she wasn't there. It was her only hope. "They know your name, and everything about this operation. The only hope you have Mr. Chase is if I put in a good word for you. Come quietly and I will tell them…"

"Oh sure, you'll skip the part about the gun, huh?" He sounded angry now. Angry was marginally better than desperate, but not by much. "You'll tell them I'll never do it again? Is that it?"

"I…" she paused as a figure in the distance caught her eye.

Dark hair, dark suit, tall, slim…

It was Mr. Steele!

He was standing in the doorway, looking out into the alley. Whether he had seen her yet she wasn't sure. She should have felt relieved – back-up was here. Instead, her fear only increased. If he had come here looking for her, it's unlikely he would have brought the agency's gun. He wouldn't have expected to find her like this. Even less likely he would have called the police. He was no hope of rescue.

He was in just as much danger as she was.

"I'll do whatever you say," she found herself saying, trying desperately to buy more time. Run, Mr. Steele! Go get someone – anyone! I'll keep him talking. Do not come closer! Don't try to help me!

"Yeah? Then turn around, close your eyes and prey lady, cause I aint got all day."

Chase moved forward and grabbed her by the shirt collar. The sudden contact caused Laura to cry out in surprise.

Chase spun her around to face the wall, but not before she noticed Steele racing towards her. She felt the coldness of the gun barrel against her head, and shut her eyes tightly unable to keep herself from whimpering.

What happened next was a complete blur. Bodies slammed against each other as she slid down to her knees. She could hear punches being thrown and grunts of the two men as they fought for control. She knew she should run, but her legs felt as though they were made of lead and her body refused to obey her mind's commands.

He was yelling at her, but she couldn't make out the words. If she had to guess, she would assume he was urging her to run but she had neither the presence of mind, nor the ability to do so.

A loud cracking noise pierced the air and she was suddenly thrown forward. Sharp, hot pain flooded her. She felt her face hit the pavement, another noise, warmth and then nothing at all.