Im so sorry its taken me this long to update. I've been really busy this week and havent been able to get this chapter up till now. Thanks for being patient. i hope you like it.

Chapter Nine

Jordan's heart stopped. She had worked with the police enough to know that, in a situation like this, gunshots usually meant bodies. As the crowd started to resume their frantic behaviour, Jordan's eye searched for Seely. When she found the Detective she noticed that he was shaking his head and rubbing his hand over his eye's…body language that told her that now was the time to attack, now was when he would listen to her. She pulled her hand out of Garret's, and started walking towards the Detective. She could hear Garrets questioning calls from behind her, but she didn't stop…he knew she wouldn't stop. Her legs started carrying her faster a she neared the barricades. A young cop reached his arm out to stop her.

"I'm sorry Miss Cavanaugh, but you cant…" he started, but was interrupted when Jordan pushed his arm out of her way and walked straight passed him. She had never done what the police had asked her to do and she wasn't going to start now.

She made her way through the crowd quickly, dodging the people that got in her way. Seely had noticed her coming and took a few steps towards her, preparing for confrontation.

"Listen Dr Cavanaugh…" he started firmly, putting his hands up in defence. He was trying to calm her down, get rid of her again, but Jordan ignored him.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, "Did you hear those shots? He is going to die." Seely avoided her eyes and shook his head. Jordan could see that he wanted to do something, he hated that he wasn't helping a fellow officer in trouble. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the young officer who had tried to stop her at the barricades.

"I'm sorry Detective" he said grabbing onto Jordan's arm "She got away from us" Jordan tried to yank her arm free, but he held on tightly. The man stared to pull her away, back behind the barricades.

"Let go of me" Jordan yelled at the man, but he ignored her. She struggled, but the man was considerably stronger than she was…he was able to restrain her easily.

"Seely!" she called out to the man that stood there watching as she was dragged away "Seely…he needs your help…you cant just let him die." The Detective frowned and his shoulders sagged in regret.

"You need to do something" Jordan continued, but again her words seemed to have no effect on the man. She could she that he was feeling bad, somewhat responsible for the fact that Woody could die, but these emotions weren't inciting him to actions. And it was actions that she needed…that Woody needed.

Seely had turned away from her now, focusing his energy on something else…but she knew he could still hear her. With all her struggling, the officer had only managed to carry her a few meters away. He could definitely still hear her.

"Miss Cavanaugh" the officer said, "You've been ordered to remain off the premises" It was no use. She wasn't going to win. Seely was going to do nothing. Before the officer pulled her into the crowd she yelled out in one last attempt to get through to him…one last attempt to save the man she couldn't live without. Her words had drowned out the loud chatter of others around her, and Seely's body and tensed up at hearing them.

"Woody wouldn't hesitate to do the same thing for you!"

ooooooooooo

Woody wasn't a good aim with his left. In fact he was a terrible aim with his left. He had pointed the gun barrel at the man's shoulder, not wanting to kill him. The man had fired only moments after he had and the bullet had hit the shelves above Woody's head. A cry of pain had echoed through the warehouse as the man fell to he ground, blood spilling quickly out of his leg. Woody heard the running of footsteps, it hadn't taken long for the others to respond. Woody turned and quickly ran around the corner. He had gotten himself into big trouble. Everybody in the building would be looking for him…and there was nowhere to hide.

Woody ran to the door that he had spotted before, only to find that it led downstairs. Just as the one to the storeroom had. Woody cursed under his breath and then made a split decision. He ran down the stairs, closing the door behind him. Maybe these people wouldn't find him. Maybe it would give him enough time until help arrived. He walked cautiously through the dark corridors, not knowing what he might find. He could hear the banging of feet and the muffled yells above him. He held his gun up as he searched every room, every door, and every corner, for any danger at all. It was after he had done this that he had realized that there was no other way out. If he was going to escape he would have to go back through the door that he had come through.

As this realization hit him, Woody let out a long shaky sigh. He leaned back against a cold wall and ran his hand over his face. When the fabric of the bandage hit his skin he frowned in frustration, and grabbed at the makeshift bandage. With as much strength as possible he pulled at the material. Sharp stings of pain ran up his arm…but he didn't care. He pulled at it harder and harder until the bandage came off, then he through it onto the ground in rage.

He stood there against the wall, staring at the bandage…and thinking of her. If he never got out of here he wanted to remember, one last time, how her eyes lit up when she smiled, how the corner of her mouth turned up mischievously before breaking out into a grin, and how her hair curled into almost black ringlets when she let it dry naturally. He wanted to remember the smell of her perfume, the touch of her skin…and the taste of her mouth. Woody shook his head and tried to concentrate. He told himself that he was not going to die here. He knew he had to get out…for her, he had to get out.

A sudden banging made his attention turn quickly to what was going on above him. The shouting and the banging above him had suddenly turned much louder and more frequent. The sound of door being flung open echoed off walls and gunshots were being taken. Woody secured his gun in his now un-bandaged right hand and walked back toward the door. He stood at the bottom of the stairs listening to the commotion draw closer and closer.