Chapter Ten

Piece Number Eight was in his pocket in a tiny (sealed) yellow envelope and Steve was alone. There'd been no time to cal for back-up or even alert Jaime. His 'benefactor' had sent him directly into a deserted, dead-end alley where he was to wait for a contact who would trade a larger envelope for his small one. The contents - five thousand dollars - would be his to keep. Except Steve knew that what was coming his way was not money...and he intended to be ready.

"Where's Kevin?" Jaime asked, deciding instantly that finding Steve was more important than staying hidden.

"Who?" the men asked so numbed by their own lives that they barely glanced up from their cots.

"He was first in line - and first to sign in," Jaime explained. "I watched him come inside."

"Oh - the new guy?" Dave asked.

"Right. You saw him?"

"He was right behind me - like he didn't know where he was going - then...he wasn't."

"Where'd you see him last?" Jaime pressed gently.

"Back in the -" Dave's eyes (and everyone else's) grew wide as the door flew open with an angry slam.

"Jessie, what are you doing here?" Sarah King demanded. Jaime opened her mouth to answer but the 'boss' was on a roll. "Didn't I tell you..." she seethed, her face twisted with anger. "Never mind. We need to talk - NOW." Sarah moved toward the door with an attitude that made it clear she expected Jaime to follow. Silently, Jaime did. "Wrong," Sarah insisted, grabbing Jaime's arm as they approached the street exit. "You're not leaving." She opened the furnace room door and, with a gun she pulled seemingly out of nowhere, forced Jaime inside.

Jaime took a good look at the gun and the woman who stood between her and the door. "So...I guess I'm fired, huh?"

Steve didn't have much time to ponder the irony of being at a 'dead end' before a set of quick footsteps broke the silence. He could barely make out the tall, lanky form in the darkness but his ears confirmed what his eyes were trying to tell him.

"Aw, man," the low, friendly voice sighed, "you shouldn't be out here."

"Benny?" As his 'friend' ambled toward him, Steve was jerked backward by the quick violent snap of a wire around his neck. Dangerously close to blacking out, he reached up with his right hand to break the wire's deadly grip and kicked backward toward the doorway that shielded his attacker. At the same time, unexpectedly strong hands began to pull and Steve felt himself fall forward.

"Who are you?" Sarah demanded. "And why are you really here?"

"I thought you read my background file..." Jaime hedged.

"A brilliant work of fiction." Sarah motioned toward the back of the furnace room. "Get over there, against the wall, and sit down." Her eyes stone-cold, she cocked the gun. "I'm not joking; do it now." She pulled several lengths of rope from a hook on the wall and, still holding the gun in firing position, tied Jaime's hands tightly behind her back. "FBI?" Sarah speculated as she secured Jaime's legs from ankle to knee with thick coils and strong knots. "OSI? NSB? They'd probably pay plenty to get you back...but I don't have time for that." Standing just feet away, she leveled the gun toward Jaime's head. "And you have no time left at all."

Sarah was right about that. There was no time for questions, reasons or talk of any kind. Almost on auto-pilot, Jaime's bound legs swung upward, connecting squarely with Sarah's knee caps, breaking the ropes and landing Jaime on her feet - all in one brilliantly-timed split second of motion. Sarah flailed angrily, managing to fire two shots before her head slammed into one of the boilers on her way down. Except for a loud, ominous hiss, the whole world seemed to go silent.

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