"I'll flip you for it," Kate tried desperately.
"No way! I went last time, Kate! It's your turn," Tony repeated, refusing to budge.
Kate sighed in defeat and picked up her keys. "Meet you there," she said despondently. "If I survive," she added under her breath. She dreaded this assignment more than anything she'd ever done before.
As she drove, she considered her life. It's been good, she thought. She had enjoyed her job at NCIS and the Secret Service before that. Though she wished she could have settled down, had a family, she had been happy enough with single life. If her life had to end early, now wasn't a bad time.
She reached the house and parked. She sat for a few moments, just looking at it, collecting herself. She did not think much of her chances, but it had to be done and somebody had to do it. It had fallen to her.
She walked to the front door and knocked. No answer. She rang the doorbell and heard faintly from within, "It's open!" The voice was tough, uninviting. Kate took a deep breath and pushed open the door. It creaked loudly in the quiet house. "In the basement!" the voice called again.
Kate shivered though the day was warm. She tiptoed toward the basement door, wondering what they would tell her family. Killed in the line of duty? Probably. As she neared the stairs, she heard a faint rasping noise and gulped. She started down the stairs, which creaked and groaned with every step. He would definitely hear her coming; there would be no surprise. As she neared the bottom, a large shadow loomed against the wall and the rasping grew louder.
He turned to look at her and her knees turned to jelly. Her mouth was cotton-dry as she tried to squeak out an explanation.
"There-there's a-a Marine. D-dead. Tony-Tony's on his-his w-way there. I-I came to-to-to get-get y-you." Kate closed her eyes, waiting for the explosion. It didn't come.
"Oh. Okay. Let's go then," he said, calmly and rationally. Kate opened one eye cautiously. She was still alive! She saw now the frame of the boat, the cell phone in the jar of varnish, the sandpaper in his hand. She was so relieved she could barely breathe.
He laid the sandpaper down, brushing off his hands as he approached her. Noticing that she was not proceeding toward the stairs, he clapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.
"Come on, Kate," he started. A confused look crossed his face. "Why are you wearing Kevlar?"
"Oh, uh," Kate tried, her face reddening. "No reason."
"No way! I went last time, Kate! It's your turn," Tony repeated, refusing to budge.
Kate sighed in defeat and picked up her keys. "Meet you there," she said despondently. "If I survive," she added under her breath. She dreaded this assignment more than anything she'd ever done before.
As she drove, she considered her life. It's been good, she thought. She had enjoyed her job at NCIS and the Secret Service before that. Though she wished she could have settled down, had a family, she had been happy enough with single life. If her life had to end early, now wasn't a bad time.
She reached the house and parked. She sat for a few moments, just looking at it, collecting herself. She did not think much of her chances, but it had to be done and somebody had to do it. It had fallen to her.
She walked to the front door and knocked. No answer. She rang the doorbell and heard faintly from within, "It's open!" The voice was tough, uninviting. Kate took a deep breath and pushed open the door. It creaked loudly in the quiet house. "In the basement!" the voice called again.
Kate shivered though the day was warm. She tiptoed toward the basement door, wondering what they would tell her family. Killed in the line of duty? Probably. As she neared the stairs, she heard a faint rasping noise and gulped. She started down the stairs, which creaked and groaned with every step. He would definitely hear her coming; there would be no surprise. As she neared the bottom, a large shadow loomed against the wall and the rasping grew louder.
He turned to look at her and her knees turned to jelly. Her mouth was cotton-dry as she tried to squeak out an explanation.
"There-there's a-a Marine. D-dead. Tony-Tony's on his-his w-way there. I-I came to-to-to get-get y-you." Kate closed her eyes, waiting for the explosion. It didn't come.
"Oh. Okay. Let's go then," he said, calmly and rationally. Kate opened one eye cautiously. She was still alive! She saw now the frame of the boat, the cell phone in the jar of varnish, the sandpaper in his hand. She was so relieved she could barely breathe.
He laid the sandpaper down, brushing off his hands as he approached her. Noticing that she was not proceeding toward the stairs, he clapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.
"Come on, Kate," he started. A confused look crossed his face. "Why are you wearing Kevlar?"
"Oh, uh," Kate tried, her face reddening. "No reason."