Chapter Twelve
With no visible flames or smoke, there appeared to have been a false alarm. Steve scanned the crowd as he reached the entrance but the face he'd hoped - needed - to see was not there.
"Sir, you can't go in there yet," a fireman told him, blocking the door. "We have to clear the building first."
Steve flashed his ID, aware that in his current state (dressed as 'Kevin' with a two-day growth of beard and a stubborn layer of trestle dust) he barely resembled the photo. "Federal agent," he said with authoritative urgency. "We've got a suspect - and another agent - still in there." Without pausing for further debate he edged his way inside.
There may not have been a visible fire to fight, but a life or death battle was still raging inside the building. One bullet had broken the hot water pipe that ran directly above the door, knocking it down to block the only exit and sending clouds of steam and scalding water into the tiny furnace room. The second bullet (fired as Sarah was falling) had torn into Jaime's leg just above the knee and traveled downward to lodge near her ankle, making a quick escape next to impossible.
Unsure of what Sarah's next move might be, Jaime had pulled the fire alarm to clear everyone else from the building. "Look," she began, circling behind the furnace, "I don't know who you think I am, but -"
"I don't care who you are!" Sarah's eyes glowed crazily as she, too, circled the furnace, dodging the hot water and waving the gun. "You're going to die! Then I'll get a new flunky and life will go on."
"Why'd you do it, Sarah?" Jaime asked softly, stalling for time. If they circled just a little bit more, maybe she could make a break for the door. "Was it the money...or something else?"
"You really are a stupid little twit," Sarah scoffed. "Of course it was money - and lots of it! On one side, I had people paying me to destroy that little science project NASA was building, and on the other, I got paid for every circuit delivered. Double the wealth!"
"And none of it for your couriers," Jaime deduced, "because you killed them."
"Well, not me personally, of course. But they certainly were a handy group. They'll do almost anything for the promise of a couple of thousand bucks, then..." Sarah's voice faded off into an evil, almost witch-like cackle.
"Who was paying you?" Jaime persisted. "You might get a reduced sentence if you -"
"Shut up! I won't be getting any sentence because I'll be leaving here without you. Like I said - life will go on." She raised the gun once more. "Except for you."
Jaime ducked instinctively just before a bullet whizzed past her head. "You've done so many good things in your career," she told her former 'boss'. "It doesn't have to end in ugliness. Why don't you just walk out with me now and -"
"I said shut up!" Sarah circled back toward the door as Jaime weaved and reached out to grab her. She got off one more shot, into the ceiling, as the door came flying open and the pipe sailed free, slamming her in the head and knocking her back to the ground. This time, she stayed down, cringing at the scalding water but too dazed to get up.
"Are you alright?" Steve asked anxiously, reaching Jaime in less than an instant.
"My leg isn't - but all things considered..." Emotionally and physically exhausted, she fell gratefully into Steve's arms.
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