Danger Zone
By Divamercury
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Chapter 11
We had made it safely to an alley across the street from the office of William Gerald. Gabe and I scaled the fence into it without much problem and hoisted Mac over but, predictably (since it was my life), we ran into a snag before we could contact Gerald.
"NYPD! Stop and put your hands in the air!" a voice called out. The three of us froze and turned around slowly. Jake and three other cops were standing, gun's drawn, blocking our exit.
"Pez, you've got to make it across the street to Will. Don't worry; we'll lead them on a wild goose chase and keep them off your tail. But they might not follow us long! Hurry!" Mac whispered, and then we split up. Jake waved the three cops after Mac and Gabe and he followed me personally. I took a very roundabout way in making it across the street, sprinting through random alleys and down side streets, hearing Jake panting behind me as he ran.
"Pez! Stop! I'm supposed to bring you in!" he called between heavy breaths.
I wasn't phased by his shouts nor was I out of breath even after the extensive amount of running I had done. When I was satisfied with my job of confusing Jake, I dashed into Gerald's office and looked around for a receptionist. Seeing no one, I pounded on the door of the room where Mr. Gerald probably was and it opened a few moments later. A man about six feet tall with black, severely graying hair and brown eyes framed in black glasses stood before me.
"Yes?" he asked, seeming a bit surprised at my expression. It must have been anxiety and a little fear mixed in.
"Mr. Gerald, I need your help. But before I tell you what's going on, I need you to please hide me for a few minutes and don't let anyone know I'm here. Someone's on my tail and I can't let him find me."
He seemed to understand the gravity of the situation and, after taking a few quick looks around, ushered me inside. The office was small and rather bland: painted white, typical of a lawyer's habitat, furnished meagerly with just a desk, several chairs, and four bookcases full of law books, one on each wall. There was also a small closet inside, and he gestured to it. "Please feel free to hide in there and then when the coast is clear you can tell me the whole story. Oh, and please, call me William."
I thanked him fervently and slipped into the dark closet, closing the door behind me. The room was quiet as William resumed his work but about five minutes later there was another knock on his door.
"Mr. Gerald?" It was Jake.
William must have gone to the door, because the sound was less muffled the next time Jake spoke.
"Mr. Gerald, my colleague and I thought we saw a woman run in here a few moments ago. She's wanted for the murder of two police officers and the sad thing is that she is one herself. Can we have a look around?"
"Absolutely. I have nothing to hide, gentlemen."
It was almost like he stressed the last syllable to warn me. So Jake had brought company. Damn; it would be harder for me to get out.
Guess I'd better find a better place to hide in this mess,' I thought. They'll search the place for sure.'
I felt my way around in the large, messy closet, and surprisingly, found a large empty box with a blanket inside.
Why would a lawyer have a big empty box and a blanket in his closet? Hell, why would a lawyer even have a closet to begin with?' I thought. Well, guess Irons is right. There are no coincidences when it comes to the Witchblade. This was all probably predestined or some other shit like that.'
I decided to think about that later. I climbed inside the box and curled up, throwing the blanket over the top and smoothing it out, trying to make it look as natural as possible. I heard Jake and the other cop talking to William as they looked around in the tiny office, then heard the cop ask, "Hey, what's in there?" I froze.
"There's not much of anything in there worth looking at. A lot of old law books I don't use daily, mostly odds and endsit's really not worth your time, gentlemen."
"Everything's worth our time when we're looking for this woman, Mr. Gerald. She's armed and very, very dangerous," Jake replied seriously. I could just imagine the grave expression on his face. Since he was talking to the police, the lawyer had no real choice but to consent.
The Witchblade activated of its own will and converted to gauntlet form, ready to defend me from whoever took the blanket off my box. I heard them walk into the closet, barely large enough for them to fit in comfortably, and realized that they were relying on the light from the office to be able to see anything; they didn't have flashlights. I held my breath as I heard them curse when they stepped on or tripped over something as they searched through the contents of the closet. Luckily they didn't even bother my box at all. I heard them leave and Jake said, "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Gerald. We're sorry for disturbing you." Then their footsteps died away down the hall and I got out of the box, creeping to the door of the closet and looking out to make sure the coast was clear. When I was sure I stepped out.
"Miss? Are you all right?" He looked at me and his eyes widened. I looked down and noticed that the Witchblade was still in gauntlet form.
"You'reyou're the Wielder," he said in disbelief.
I nodded and approached him, shaking his left hand seeing as my right was slightly occupied. "I'm Sara Pezzini. I can't thank you enough for hiding me."
"Well, if they had been looking hard enough, they would have found you, I'm sure. It's truly a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Pezzini. I'm glad you've finally come, although I know that your situation must be dire for you to even be here at all."
"Please, call me Sara, William." Too much of the Ms. Pezzini' stuff made me nauseous really quickly.
"All rightSara," he conceded, like Ian in the fact that he was reluctant to not show the utmost respect at all times.
"Anyway, back to my point. The story that those two cops that just showed up here a minute ago fed you was all pure bullshit. I'm not armed save the Witchblade, and I didn't kill two cops. I did knock one out, and I'm not denying that I'm dangerous—" I said, winking, "—but I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. I just need you to take me to the Associates; I was told that they could help me. I need all the support I can get, and my friend Mac told me that you were the person to ask."
"Oh, Mac told you about us, did she? Well, she would know. Of course I'll take you. Come with me." He locked up the office behind him and took me to his car. The Witchblade seemed to trust him, so I did as well, but I was ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. We got into his car and sped away toward the warehouse district, not knowing what would be waiting ahead of us.
