Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed or send along PMs. I'm sending virtual chocolate peanut clusters wrapped in bright ribbons and bows in gratitude. Any holes in the ribbons are the cats' fault – they insisted on helping. A big shout out to scousemuz1k for keeping me going when I was running out of steam. Onward – it's almost time for the new episode tonight. Woohoo!
Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.
Chapter 11
The knob turned in his hand, and he was almost brought to his knees by the flood of relief that swept through him. He jumped through the doorway and shut the door silently behind him in one swift motion that he prayed had been quick enough to go unnoticed by whoever had exited the elevator. He cautiously turned the deadbolt lock as quietly as possible and leaned back, breathing heavily as he struggled to regroup. Not knowing how much time he had before the search for him would start in earnest, he pushed himself upright off the door and looked around.
Praying under his breath that fate be on his side for just this one time, he started looking around for anything he could use as a weapon. Old wooden shelving stood against all four walls, filled with linens, bathroom and cleaning supplies, piles and boxes of unknown odds and ends. An old vacuum cleaner leaned tiredly against a wall next to a stack of brooms. Buckets were stacked haphazardly. Dusters hung from hooks. It was crowded, and the only light came from a small grate high up on the wall above the door.
No wrenches or hammers or other useful tools for hitting people over the head were visible. He did spot a box of flashlights, and was surprised to find one that worked. He tucked that away inside the sling binding his bum arm to his side. He eyed the brooms, wondering how useful they'd be in a one-armed fight with someone. He snorted, all he'd need is a horse and he could joust his way to freedom using a broomstick as a lance. Too bad they weren't Nimbus 2001 or Thunderbolts, he thought.
Keeping an ear open for noise from the hallway, Tony carefully explored further. A doorway sans door led into a small washroom. A utility sink was to one side, and what looked like a large electrical breaker box half his height and width was on the other. The sink was half filled with tubs of dirty liquids with crusted handles. Ripped open boxes of cleaners stood under the sink, and dirty looking scrub brushes were piled in a corner. There were no other doors or windows in the room save for the one he'd come through. Other than throwing soap flakes at the bad guys, he couldn't see much that could be useful as a weapon in the washroom.
Looking at the electric panel, he wondered if he could cause trouble by flipping breakers. Or, he thought, he'd just attract someone looking for the circuit box to fix the problem if he messed with it. Tugging the panel open, Tony found a snarl of wires running across the inside of the box in a tangled mess. Some wires were labeled, but most were just twisted into loops secured with ties, running from one side and out the other, or capped and ended hanging amid the mess. So much for tidy rows of circuit breakers neatly labeled.
Almost closing the panel door, Tony paused, seeing a small catch along the top of the opening. Fingering it, he mentally shrugged. Maybe he could destroy or cut power on the backside of the panel that would be harder to spot – might buy him extra time to escape in a darkened hotel corridor. He gave it a hard pull. The entire panel pivoted to one side, and a cold, damp smelling space revealed itself. Sticking his head in enough to suss out the area, he found a passageway, about two feet wide, and just high enough to graze his head if he'd been standing in it.
Tony gaped in astonishment. No way. Bloody hell, absolutely no way, he thought. He half expected to hear a director call "cut!" – these things just didn't happen in real life. Disbelieving his own eyes, he stood with his mouth literally hanging open for many seconds while his brain tried to reset itself. Hardly daring to breath, Tony reached out and touched the opposite wall behind the panel. It was real. Idly, he wondered how he'd write this up in his report - no one will believe it. Hell, he was close to distrusting his own senses right now himself.
Pulling the flashlight from his sling, he powered it on and aimed the light into the passageway. He could see by the light that the passage continued on to where the washroom's far wall ended, then continued around the corner away from the room.
Grimacing at how his shoulder would feel being forced to squeeze in such a tight space, Tony knew he had to explore the passage at least to the corner to see what was further on past that. He took the time to return to the bin of flashlights and find one more working one before returning to the panel. With difficulty, he managed to wiggle through the panel opening then carefully tug it shut after checking the floor for tell-tale scuff marks or footprints. Shuffling sideways, he was grateful he wasn't claustrophobic.
Breathing heavily, he hoped he wouldn't start coughing from the cold air. No telling how far sound would travel in here. Tony was worried even the slight scraping sound of his clothes against the walls might be loud enough for someone to hear. Reaching the corner, he shone the light into the new space, sucking his breath in at the sight of a rough set of makeshift steps leading downward and around another corner - this passage really did go somewhere. It only took him a second of pondering whether to return to the maintenance room before deciding to continue on. He wouldn't be cooped up there just waiting to be discovered.
-000-
After what seemed like an endless time of sliding along sideways, down steep steps, around corners, brushing through cobwebs, and hearing (imaginary, he wondered?) scuttling sounds at times that made him think of rats, he rounded one last corner to find himself at a dead end. Shining the light up and down the wall, he couldn't see anything resembling a door or panel, just a rough wall. By this time, he had the general feeling that he'd traveled down at least one floor, maybe more, but apart from that, he'd lost all sense of where he might be in the building.
His heart sank as he contemplated having to reverse his journey back to where he started. For a minute, he just closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall, trying to keep from sliding into despair. In frustration, he put his hand out flat against the end wall and pushed, hoping for some sign of a trap door. Nothing. Moving his hand further along, he pushed again and again, testing each section. There! He thought felt the wall give just a fraction. Tapping his fingers against the wall as quietly as he could, he heard the faint sound change as his hand moved along the wall. It sounded more hollow.
Hardly breathing, he pressed his ear to the wall, straining to hear any sound on the other side. Almost inaudible, he could just barely hear what sounded like machine noises. HVAC? Elevator shaft? No voices, no footsteps. What to do? Should he try and breech the wall? What if he found himself facing the backside of a boiler? Inside an elevator shaft? Or maybe the lobby of the building was inches away from him on the other side of the wall. Breaking through the wall then would certainly catch the attention of anyone in the lobby. Indecisive, he kept listening, hoping for more clues.
Finally, he realized he could stand there for hours listening without learning more. Maybe he could create just a small peephole. If he were careful, hopefully no one would notice. Hesitating for just a moment longer, he finally smacked the back of his head. If Gibbs were here, he'd probably have a headache by now.
Pulling his belt knife out from where he'd slipped it into a pocket, he carefully started twisting the point into the wall, fairly certain that he'd find sheetrock in short order. Blowing softly on the hole he was patiently boring through the wall, he kept his movements slow and careful. When he felt no resistance to the gentle pressure he had on the knife tip, he paused, listening carefully. Several minutes passed before he resumed, hearing nothing new. After he'd made an opening about a quarter inch across, he switched off the flashlight and moved to peek out, just to see….nothing.
-000-
Darkness. Was he through the wall? Or was there yet another layer…paneling? Still moving with slow care, he enlarged the hole to the size of a quarter, then looked out again. Still darkness. A faint, cold thread of air brushed his face, so he knew he was looking out into an open space at least. Risking discovery, he turned the flashlight on and shone it out the hole. A wall emerged from the darkness, about four or five feet from his location. He could just make out what looked like the handle from a broom or mop resting against the wall. No sounds though other than the mechanical noise, louder now. Well, nothing to do but go for it, he thought. He was getting colder, and wished he had a coat.
Gambling the noise wouldn't be heard, he enlarged the hole to a good foot across. He could now see another utility room on the other side of the wall, though it only had a handful of brooms, mops, and buckets stored there. It definitely was cold in the room, but it lacked the damp smell of the space he was in still. He started breaking the wall down now, shoving large pieces of painted sheetrock out of his way until he could slip into the room. The floating dust from the dry wall brought on a coughing spell, and until he brought it under control, he worried anyone passing by would hear the muffled coughs and hacks.
He finally stopped coughing and drew a sleeve across his face, wiping away the dust. Groaning softly, he wished he could just sink down and take a nap. His shoulder was aching from the bumping and dragging it'd gone through recently. Stop whining, he told himself sternly, once again feeling a ghost hand smack the back of his head.
Sticking the flashlight in a pocket, he moved to the door and after listening several more minutes for signs of life, he cracked it open and peeked out. It was a corridor, dimly lit, dirty linoleum flooring, scuffed and marred institutional gray walls, lined on each side with more hotel supplies. To one side he could hear what sounded like steam machines, and low rumbling. Hazarding a guess, he thought it was a laundry facility for the hotel. To the other side was darkness and quiet.
Slipping out of the room, he closed the door and moved into the darkness. When the faint light from behind finally dimmed to darkness, he pulled out his flashlight. The hallway continued on. Occasionally another hallway would cross the one he was moving along, but he continued on straight for a couple of hundred feet further before his eyes picked up the faintest light ahead.
Proceeding minus the flashlight, he finally came to a door propped open to what looked like a locker room, empty. Dirty piles of one-piece janitorial jumpsuits messily filled rolling laundry bins lined up along one wall, lockers along the other, benches filled in the open space between. Grabbing several jumpsuits, Tony found one large enough to cover his clothes, and pulled it on, grimacing at the smell. He ditched the sling and eased his hand into a pocket, hoping it'd be enough to keep the arm from moving around too much. Rolling up a pile of jumpsuits, he tucked them under his good arm, and assumed the lanky gait of a tired workman, head down, shoulders slightly hunched as he moved through the only other door in the room.
He passed through a laundry facility, through more doors and hallways until he reached a bank of service elevators. The few people he came across, dressed in service uniforms similar to his, exchanged a disinterested nod with him, yawning sleepily, but he didn't stop to chat. Grabbing a broom from several in a barrel, he pushed the button to call the elevator. Hotel. He was certain of it now. But which one - the same as he'd been in for the last couple of days? Given the small number of staff he'd come across, he guessed it was in the early morning hours.
Luck was on his side, and he made his way out the service door and into a back alleyway. Shivering, he moved toward the nearest street. Ditching the broom, he kept the roll of jumpsuits. It'd still serve as good camouflage. Slouching against the building wall just inside the end of the alley as if he were waiting for someone to pick him up, he carefully looked around. With a casual smile, Tony felt his spirits lift. He knew exactly where he was. And a plan started to take form in his head….
