The only difference between the
saint and the sinner is that every
saint has a past and every sinner
has a future.
-O. Wilde
"This way. The plumbing's through here!" A guard carrying a handheld machine gun states as he leads a brunette and her partner to a heavy metal door marked Service.
Once they're inside, the guard backs out. She sets her toolbox down and begins to case the small room.
The guard returns unexpectedly. "Where's the guy?" he asks as he moves toward her.
She raises a leg and kicks him, sending him flailing backward and into her partner who zaps the guard on the back of the neck with a taser. The man twitches and slumps to the ground, unconscious. Marcel quickly grabs him around the neck.
The woman turns.
Holding the guard's neck with one hand, Marcel pulls a stiletto from the sheath at the back of his belt and jabs it towards the base of the man's skull.
The chestnut-haired woman is on him in a flash, grabs the knife, and shoves him against the wall, trapping him with her forearm. She stares into his face in a warning.
"No!"
"He's a threat."
"He's more of a threat if they find a dead body!" The woman releases him.
After the guard is tied up and propped in a corner, the two of them stand below the open vent that leads into the duct system. The man cups his hands under her foot and lifts her up so she can pull herself into it. Once he's inside too, they crawl quickly through the system, moving horizontally until they reach a juncture and turn right.
"From here on in, absolute silence," she cautions. As they reach a ventilator shaft in the duct, a laser net protects the ventilator. Red shafts of light are crisscrossing every which way. Through the net, she can see the computer room below and the top of the technician's head.
In the duct, she signals to her partner, making a triangle of her hands. He wiggles forward and hands her a pyramid-shaped glass object. She uses it to intercept a portion of one of the laser net's beams. With the laser beam now captive in the prism, the brunette carefully moves it out of the center of the ventilator shaft and directs it toward another prism, clearing a path for them.
When they reach their destination, very carefully she starts to slowly and methodically remove the screws, being careful not to drop any of them on the pressure-sensitive floor.
It's eerily still in the locked-down computer room. No one is there, there's no sound but the gentle hum of the computer. Once she's trussed up, the brunette drops her head slowly into the room, her long chestnut locks falling in front of her.
A heavy Velcro strap binds her ankles together, secured by a rope that leads up into the ventilator shaft and through the set of pulleys. Marcel continues to lower her until she's nearly on top of the computer when she's abruptly jerked back up to ceiling height as the analyst enters the room.
The man crosses to the computer and sits down, a stack of work to his right. Just as he lays his finger on the keyboard, he reaches for a tissue and dabs his mouth. Abruptly he slides his chair back.
She hangs still as a stone, not daring to even breathe while he reaches for a garbage can and vomits into it. Wiping off his mouth, he drags himself to his feet and leaves, locking the door securely behind him.
The woman releases a pent-up breath and descends again, slowly but steadily, until she's hanging horizontally in front of the computer.
Above her, Marcel holds the rope, his jaw clenched, and sweat breaking out on his forehead.
She's three feet away from the computer. Stretching her arms out, she still can't quite reach. Looking up, the brunette gestures to her partner, pointing to the floor. Slowly, Marcel drops her another few feet allowing her to reach the terminal.
Her ear receiver hears ever so slight whispers. She reaches out to the keyboard and starts typing softly with gloved hands. The computer hums as she pulls a flash drive out of her leg pocket and slides it in. The computer accepts it with a soft whir.
The woman winces, even that soft sound is deafening in these circumstances. She types in the command, presses enter and the screen confirms it's downloading into the device. As soon as it's completed, she pockets the flash drive and signals Marcel to raise her up.
Inside the duct, he's holding the rope, his jaw clenched, sweat breaking out on his forehead. Slowly, he pulls and her body starts to rise. Marcel has her close to the ceiling but for some inexplicable reason, he stops pulling her.
She looks at him, wide-eyed, and gestures at him with a raised thumb.
He shakes his head no.
"What the fuck are you doing?" she mouths animatedly, still dangling just out of reach of the duct.
Holding the rope with one hand, Marcel holds out his other demanding the flash drive.
Still hanging, she refuses but her head snaps to the side when she hears someone at the door.
Finally, Marcel hoists her up. As he leans down to snatch the flash drive from her, she reacts quickly by pulling out her own stiletto.
He understands her silent threat. She's as deadly as she is beautiful.
"This isn't over," he mouths the words with a corrosive glare.
She shoots him a malicious glare of her own and after pocketing the knife, she throws some smoke canisters to create chaos, giving the two of them cover as they crawl back through the ductwork.
With the fire trucks arriving, she and Marcel lose themselves among the crowd that's exiting the building and make their escape.
Welcome to the new story. It's full length. This chapter sets the stage for the plot.
A huge thank you to Elena for the story idea and the cover image. I very much enjoyed working on this one.
And thank you, Eva, wouldn't be here without you.
I will post the next chapter soon.
Have a wonderful day.