THE GIRL NEXT DOOR

Chapter Six: Further Complications

The air in the container was cool and fresh but the conditioner unit was noisy and made sleep virtually impossible. Jesse didn't think he had ever felt so tired when he had done so little.

Ellie had been sleeping for a long time, by his watch a little over four hours, and Jesse knew that unless he woke her or she moved and the pain in her arm disturbed her she would stay that way for almost as long again. They had been in their metal tomb for more than a day, and his watch told him it was a little after two in the afternoon.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Jesse was sure he remembered reading about a French guy who lived in a cave for . . . no he couldn't remember how long, but when he came out he had increased the length of his day to 26 hours. Even now, when he had plenty of time to think about it, Jesse really couldn't see the point to that at all.

Realising that he was getting hungry again Jesse stood up and quietly made his way across to the refrigerator. He was trying very hard not to eat everything and leave nothing for Ellie, but it wasn't easy. The food had been very nice, not that it mattered in one way, they were, after all, a captive audience, but the bread had been real instead of plastic, and the fillings tasty and well, filling. Grabbing a small bottle of orange juice off the door and a packet of sandwiches which said BLT on the front of it Jesse closed the door and went back to where he had been sitting keeping a friendly watch over his sleeping companion. If only there wasn't a death threat hanging over them it might have been nice to spend some time alone with Ellie and get to know her a little better.

. . . . . . . . .

"I don't care how difficult it is, I need someone to get inside that warehouse, and he should be there ten minutes ago! If you can't find them then use the dogs, that's what we brought them for." Ron was almost barking himself as he yelled into his microphone and Mark gently touched him on the arm.

"It's not their fault, Ron, we need to let them act on their own instincts, they're the ones in the line of fire."

Ron swallowed down the hastily formed retort which had a lot to do with the fact that there was no 'we' involved as far as he was concerned. He knew that Mark had never worked for the FBI and had very little sympathy with their methods; the elder man was making allowances he didn't think he could make if his only surviving family member had just disappeared into a deserted warehouse in a hail of bullets. "No, I know, but dammit, Mark, I hate being here, when I should be there!" Ron looked back at the monitor as if it would tell him something different to what he already knew, but the screens were silent and still and he saw Mark distance himself mentally from the situation just for a moment.

Steve, you could just run your restaurant, go to the gym, jog along the beach and I would never ever call you a bum, or complain about odd socks in the dryer, or the line around your bath tub, just open that door and come out, please, Son.

. . . . . . . .

The sound of gunfire woke Jesse from his slumber and, as he jolted back to reality, he saw Ellie do the same and cry out in agony as her elbow protested.

"It's ok, careful, shhh, it's ok." Jesse saw the tears rush to Ellie's eyes, and he knew that they were caused both by the pain she was in as well as the awfulness of their situation.

"What was that noise? It … it sounded like guns." Ellie tried to swallow down her fear, but she was the most frightened she had ever been her entire life, and she had no idea whether she was ever going to get out of her predicament alive.

"Yeah, I thought that too. It sounded a little way off, but, well, it's kinda hard to work out where any noises are coming from in here, apart from the air conditioning, which is seriously getting on my nerves." He had hoped to get a smile and he did, albeit a small one.

"Jesse, is there a reason you are sitting way over there?" Ellie looked at the gap between them and hoped that he would move closer.

"I didn't want to disturb you, but I can move if you would like." As he spoke he did just that and was soon making himself comfortable on the sleeping bag next to her. "There, I'm not hurting you am I?" Jesse made sure that he wasn't anywhere near touching her bad arm, but he knew that the pain from it would make her tense and radiate outwards so he didn't want to knock her anywhere.

"No, no, you're not, but to be honest, I would rather have some extra pain and a cuddle than just the pain on its own." Ellie snuggled a little closer to him, enjoying both the warmth of his body and the feeling of him next to her.

"I wish I had something I could give you to help your arm, but I don't have anything on me at all." The gunfire had disappeared and Jesse felt Ellie relax a little in his arms, he had been glad to keep the conversation going if it kept her mind off of what was happening outside. He wanted to be rescued, but if no one knew where they were then gunfire wasn't a good thing.

"Jesse?" Ellie had been quiet for a while, just enjoying the sensation of the hug she had asked for.

"Mmmm," Jesse almost didn't want to answer, he knew that they were still in danger, but the world around them was quiet again now apart from that darn air conditioning system and he liked the feel of her in his arms.

"Do you like me?"

"Um, yeah, I do," Jesse wasn't really sure how to answer the question, "why do you ask?"

"I really like you, and I know that this is probably really forward and totally inappropriate, but I've never been locked in a container before, and if I'm going to die then I need to tell you some things first." The words had got faster and faster as she had spoken and in the end Jesse had gently placed his finger against her lips to stop her talking. To her surprise, and she guessed, Jesse's too, Ellie kissed the finger before starting to talk again.

"I … I watch you, you know, when you are running through the grounds, sometimes when you're coming home from work, I hoped that maybe one day we … we could have gone out together." A blush rushed up her face and Ellie stopped talking.

"Ellie, you don't have to," Jesse still wasn't sure what to say, he guessed that although what was happening to them was very real it was also an almost artificial situation and things that would usually take weeks or months might very well be dealt with over the next twenty four hours or so. He thought for a moment and then began to speak again. "I do like you, but, well, it's not long since I came out of a long term relationship either, I guess I was planning to take things slowly for a little while."

"And if we die in here? Wouldn't it be nice to know that we had at least done this?" She turned carefully in Jesse's arms and put her lips against his, she had known that they would be soft and warm and as she kissed him her whole body responded to the feelings he gave her.

For a brief second Jesse had been caught unawares, but then, still making sure not to touch her arm he began to kiss her back. Ellie was beautiful, fun, and . . . a wonderful kisser, the thoughts stopped and nothing else mattered to each of them but the moment . . .

. . . . . . . .

"So, have you finished?" Steve was still having trouble breathing, and he had a feeling that the bullet had done more damage than he thought at first.

"Finished what, Lieutenant?" Nicolayev looked at Steve and then down at the handcuffs which joined them together. How could he have been so stupid as to let himself get in this situation? The Koreans who had sent the money to LA were known to him, and he was most definitely known to them. It had been entertaining to string that stupid pup Hugo along and know that he was spending the money from the Far East. Trouble was they had spies everywhere, and they knew exactly what he had done. The fact that he didn't have the money made no difference to them, he'd tried to get it and that was a killing offence.

"Swearing at me in Russian." Steve looked at the bookie joined to him at the wrist and wished that there was another way to contain him. Until this very moment he hadn't realised just how much cheap aftershave the man was wearing, and combined with the fact that breathing was definitely becoming an art form both were making his head swim.

"Lieutenant, you have such a negative opinion of me, I am surprised at you."

"Yeah, right. Listen, I know that we aren't alone in here, wherever here is. We need to get ourselves somewhere safe as soon as possible and that means finding the back door to this dump."

"Lieutenant, I am disappointed, this is one of my best units, big, airy, light and clean."

"Light? I guess someone closed the curtains when they left last night then!" Steve could just about make out the outline of some of the other things in the warehouse, although his new buddy and pal was clear in his eye line.

"Lieutenant," Steve was getting heartily sick of being called by his rank the entire time, "if you really do want to get out of here alive, then first of all you need to stop talking, because each time you open your mouth you get a little paler, and then you need to let me lead the way towards the back of this room and maybe we can get out onto the dock. We have been in here a good ten minutes now, and I think that may be nine minutes too long . . . This way."

"And you told me you didn't know the floor plan!" Steve smiled at him, wished he hadn't and then let out a desperate groan as he felt himself being helped to his feet. Steadying himself, physically and mentally he leant over to his right and picked up his gun, relieved that it was he and not Nicolayev who had been nearest to it.

"Funnily enough, Lieutenant, I understand why you have attached yourself to me, but don't think it makes us anywhere near friends."

"Oh, trust me, I am real fussy who I consider to be my friend." Just the word made him think of Jesse again, even in a situation as bleak as this was he knew that he would be upbeat and cheerful, Steve also wished he was here, because he could sure do with some of those painkillers he knew Jesse always carried with him.

. . . . . . . .

"Wow," Jesse wasn't sure what else to say, the kiss had been far more passionate than he had been expecting, but then he hadn't really expected to be kissed at all.

"Yes, I would go with that, Jesse, thank you." Ellie's eyes were shining, and her face was a little flushed. Although he didn't think it was possible she moved closer to him and began to talk again.

"I am so sorry that you are here."

"You are? Do you always kiss people who you wished weren't here?" Jesse knew what she meant, but somehow he had a feeling that it was very important to keep things as light as possible.

"No, silly, you know what I mean." Ellie wanted to talk, needed to talk, somehow the pain that was taking over her entire being didn't seem quite so bad when she had something to say.

"Yeah, I do, but if they had taken just you and not me I would have been totally distracted until you were found, at least this way I can keep a close eye on you. I know that your arm is really hurting you, there is nothing I can do about that, but any other way I can help."

"Shhh, you are helping, more than you could ever know. Just looking at your kind face, your beautiful eyes, that crazy hairstyle you have, somehow the pain doesn't matter quite so much."

"And they say the British are boring!" Jesse gently touched her hair, it was a soft brown and fell in delicate curls to just below her shoulders "your hair is beautiful, not as crazy as mine, all of you is beautiful." He felt embarrassed, but Ellie was right, if only one of them survived this there would be things they wished they had said, and he had always thought her to be beautiful.

. . . . . . . .

The feel of his phone vibrating in his pocket took Mark out of his musings about his son; he had been able to escape into his mind, preferring memories of a happy child on the sand to the thought of an injured cop in a cold and damp warehouse.

"Mark Sloan, oh hi, Cheryl . . . oh, I've seen her ... yeah, I would say so, look we're at the command centre just a little way from the warehouse, Steve will have left details on his desk someplace, bring her here . . . no, I'm sure he'll hate it, but I can deal with that . . . yeah, bye." Mark folded his phone down and slipped it back into his pants, as he looked up again he saw Ron looking at him, his dark eyes hard as flint.

"So, who is coming here? And why do I get the feeling that I am the he who is gonna hate it?"

"Apparently, Hugo decided that he really needed to tell Ellie's mother where her daughter was, not a sensible idea, Cheryl now has a woman who she described as 'Margaret Thatcher on speed' refusing to leave the station until she is either, and I quote, 'reunited with her daughter, or face to face with the dolt who let her be taken in the first place.' It appears, though, that Hugo failed to mention where he was, or that he is the dolt in question."

"Mark, she can't come here, even having you here compromises the operation, to have, who did you say? Never mind, you'll just have to appease her and send her back to wherever she came from," Ron suddenly thought of something else, "without introducing her to me first."

Mark shook his head and returned his gaze to the monitors he had been avoiding for so long. "Why is nothing happening? There hasn't been any gunfire for a few minutes, why aren't your guys going in?" He looked back and Ron and could tell from the tall agent's face that there was something going on that he didn't know about.

"We can't go in."

"Why ever not, Steve is in there, you don't think he's alone and you're doing nothing to get him out." Mark was aware that his voice was gaining an edge of hysteria and he fought for control.

"We brought one of our explosives dogs with us, Mark, the place is wired."

. . . . . . . .

The door that Steve had silently prayed would lead outside turned out to be a connecting doorway from one warehouse to another. The knowledge that they would have to go across another wide-open space, armed but still feeling unprotected, hit him hard and he slowed up so much that Nicolayev, without meaning to, pulled on him suddenly and he was unable to stop himself from falling to the ground.

"Arghh!" The cry of pain was loud enough to echo and Steve tensed up, waiting for the bullets that would surely end his life, nothing happened though and he was pulled to his feet unceremoniously. That did cause something to happen, a sharp, instantly debilitating pain invaded the left side of his body and left him struggling so hard to breathe that Nicolayev actually stood in front of Steve so he could lean against him while the Russian held him up. As he did so the sound of a door closing somewhere echoed through the warehouse and both men knew they had to find cover immediately.

Cheslav Nicolayev looked round anxiously, he had to get out of the line of fire, and he had to get this cop there too. Not out of choice, the guy could die right here for all he cared, but they were attached and so it became a necessity. Looking around again he saw something, something big and he made his way towards it. If it was as huge as it looked from a distance then they must be able to at least hide behind it until the danger was past.

. . . . . . . .

The second kiss that they shared wasn't quite as unexpected as the first, but it was just as enjoyable. Jesse ran his fingers into Ellie's hair, concentrating on keeping his hands there and away from her arm. They were just relaxing into each others embrace again when they heard a noise which chilled them both to the bone and made them freeze in terror.

The door at the end of their prison, the small man sized door which was cut into the container entrance where the lorry had deposited them was, very slowly, opening.

Jesse carefully helped Ellie to her feet, indicating for her to keep quiet. Then once she was standing upright he whispered to her, "You need to stay hidden behind the refrigerator, ok? But when I call, no matter how it hurts, you have to run." He received a nod as an answer and then she made her way to do as she had been told.

Jesse looked around him wildly, needing a weapon, something to give them a few moments to get out of their jail. His eyes locked on the pail they had been using as a toilet and he took the lid off it and then moved so that he was down behind the door as it finished opening.

. . . . . . . .

"Yes, well, I'm sure that you meant well, but somehow I don't think that a doctor is going to be able to give me the type of information I need." The words were said politely, but forcefully, in a very British accent.

"Ma'am, Doctor Sloan isn't just a doctor," Cheryl sincerely hoped that she wouldn't be asked to explain that statement, she was very fond of the man, but had no real idea what his official remit was. Cheryl was saved from having to say anything further however, as she saw Mark, the picture of friendly calm, coming towards them.

"Mrs Fortescue, how nice to see you again." Mark smiled as he spoke and Cheryl wondered whether he had heard the English woman's outburst.

"Do I know you?" Lucinda Fortescue was momentarily caught unawares as she tried to work out who the man in front of her was.

"Yes, we met, albeit briefly, when you were visiting with your daughter, and I was helping a friend to move into the neighbouring condo. I'm Doctor Mark Sloan, I am a friend of Doctor Jesse Travis."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course, I am so sorry, thank you." Lucinda dismissed Cheryl with a wave of the hand and the female detective, after pulling a face at Mark, made a hurried and very relieved exit, heading over to where she could see Ron Wagner talking with another agent, so she could get some up-to-date information on her partner's whereabouts.

"Why don't we go and sit in my car, the area where the agents are working is restricted, and so we can't go there." Mark put his arm behind her and gently guided her in the direction he wished her to go. He knew it took him away from his only contact with his son, but this woman was worried about her daughter and maybe he could help her while taking his mind off his own problems for a while.

. . . . . . . .

Jesse pulled the bucket back so that he had a good shot when he heard a voice.

"Jess . . . no." Steve saw a flash of something and recognised the face of his best friend being somehow attached to it. He called out, using up more of his precious air and heard something clatter to the floor.

"Steve! Oh, yuk." Jesse hopped from one foot to the other and managed somehow to stop himself getting wet, or worse. He left the pail where it was and moved over to where his friend was steadying himself against the side of the unit. "Am I glad to see you, and your friend, whoever he is."

"Yeah, me . . . too, let me introduce . . . you . . .. to . . . Cheslav . . . Nicolayev." Steve's words were getting fainter and further apart as he continued to speak, and Jesse suddenly aware that his friend was injured moved a little closer to him. He recognised the sounds in Steve's words, the trouble he was having catching his breath and, though he would have to examine him first, he was pretty sure that he had at least one broken rib and possibly, though he hated to even think it, a punctured lung. Steve had gathered a little more breath and carried on speaking. "General all . . . round good guy . . . and Hugo's . . . bookie."

"Steve . . .'

"You, you are responsible for getting us into this, and letting Hugo get into debt, I HATE YOU!" Ellie, suddenly presented with someone to let her anger and anguish out against, launched at Cheslev from behind the fridge, punching him with her good arm and causing Steve to be jolted as well.

"Arghh . . . Ellie . . . no."

The sound of pain in Steve's voice stopped her in her tracks and Ellie backed off immediately, "Sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry." She turned away, tears rushing to her eyes and Jesse was torn, not knowing who to go to first.

Making the decision that Ellie could just be seated and then dealt with later Jesse put his arm around her, led her back to the sleeping bag and helped her into a sitting position. He kissed her tenderly on the top of the head and turned back towards Steve.

"Jesse . . . help . . . I . . . have . . . to . . . " Steve couldn't speak anymore but he knew how to help that, he reached round and undid the Velcro on his Kevlar vest as Jesse cried out.

"Steve, no!" The release of the pressure around Steve's chest didn't give him the reprieve he wanted, instead it increased the agony he was experiencing and, without another sound, he fell to the floor, finally unaware of the pain he was in.