Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: A 'Random Idea' that crossed my mind, something of a Heroes crossover. Comments and feedback are always appreciated.
Hide and Seek - Chapter Five
Downtown Los Angeles, CA
There was a light knock on the door and Rachael jumped in fright. Beside her, his face a reflection of her of fear, retired tech sergeant Frank Wood gave her hand a gentle pat. The pair looked at each other until a second knock got Frank to his feet. He shuffled across the room which was a mirror image of Rachael's across the hall. Rachael extended one hand to stop him, his name on her lips, when a voice called from other side of the door.
"Frank, it's Rose, open the door!" At the sound of his neighbors urgent request Frank hurried to throw the lock back and yanked the door open. Still clutching her dented kettle Rose hopped inside, moving rather sprightly Rachael thought for a woman pushing eighty. With Rose inside Frank shut and locked the door.
"Well?" Frank asked the old woman impatiently.
"I didn't say a thing," Rose said, punctuating herself with the kettle. Frank leaned back quickly to avoid getting struck with the utensil and slipped carefully around his neighbor to sit on the edge of his bed.
"Good. Uh, honey – just how bad is this ex-husband of yours?" Frank asked Rachael.
"Bad Mister Wood," Rachael said. "So are his friends. I don't think any of them would hesitate to shoot first."
At this Rose harrumphed loudly, drawing her five foot frame to its full height. She extended the kettle and announced, "I should have thumped him good when he turned around! That'd teach a man to go around hitting ladies!"
Frank shook his head. He took Rachael by the arms and met her eyes.
"This place isn't safe for you anymore," he began. Rachael nodded, swallowing hard as she digested the news. "I'm sorry a nice young woman like you met such a horrible man. But you got to run."
"I know," she breathed and Frank released her. At the door Rose had her ear pressed to the wood.
"First," Frank said turning to the small dresser beside the window. He pulled open the top drawer, his arthritic swollen hands diving under the neatly folded shirts. Rachael watched him remove a slender wooden case. When he opened it she hissed sharply, shaking her head as he pulled out a small pistol.
"No, no, no," Rachael said firmly backing away from Frank. He stopped, the gun cradled in his hands.
"Rachael, if your husband is willing –" Frank began and sighed when Rachael shook her head again.
"Never Frank, I will not hurt another person," Rachael said vehemently. She breathed a small measure of relief when Frank put the pistol back into its case.
"How are we going to get her outta here?" Rose asked sharply.
"There's the fire escape," Rachael suggested looking from Rose to Frank for approval. The old man's brows furrowed deeply. He thought for a moment then shook his head and gave a grunt. The expression worried Rachael who nervously asked, "What?"
"I'm sure he or one of his friends is keeping an eye on the front doors," Frank said. Rachael's shoulders slumped.
"Yes, probably. Probably the alley too," Rose added.
"It's too dangerous to stay here," Rachael said. "They will search this place room by room. I know they will."
Rose chuckled. Frank turned a curious gaze to his neighbor. She winked at him and met Rachael's puzzled face. "You up for a little adventure Rachael?"
"Rose, what are you thinking?" Frank asked slowly with a cautious tone. Rachael saw the look in his face and the wide grin on Rose's and felt a flutter of anxiety.
"There's an old laundry chute, most of the doors are boarded up, but up here, it's just been hidden by a picture," Rose said. She pointed in Rachael's direction with the kettle. "Our girl here is thin enough, she could slide down, land in the basement and slip out from here without anyone the wiser."
"And how do we know there's something there to catch her fall?" Frank asked.
"Last time I looked there was a cart with sheets," Rose said and Rachael had a feeling she was trying to convince herself the memory was accurate.
"Okay, but – how do I get out of the basement?" Rachael asked.
"That will be a bit tricky; you'll have to go back up to the first floor and down the hall. Miss Cooke moved out of her room, it's still empty. You can climb out her bathroom window," Rose said in a rush of excitement. Rachael looked to Frank who shrugged.
"Alright, it's worth a shot," Rachael sighed.
._._.
Sure enough, when Frank pulled the framed watercolor from the wall, there was a door for the laundry chute. The residential hotel hadn't used the chute system in years. Covered for all that time the paint and wood looked a little fresher where it had been hidden by the cheap painting. Rachael grasped the knob and pulled the door down. The musty smell from within the chute wrinkled Rachael's nose. She looked over her shoulder for reassurance from Frank and Rose.
"Good luck honey," Rose said, embracing Rachael with surprising fierceness.
"Be careful," Frank said holding the door while Rachael opened the folding chair they'd brought from his apartment. She stood on the chair, and feeling a strange mixture of stupidity and apprehension, and climbed awkwardly into the laundry chute.
._._.
Frank and Rose stood side by side, staring at the door and listening for a scream that never came. There had been a muffled series of fading thumps and then an anti-climactic silence. After a moment Frank turned to Rose.
"When was the last time you looked in the basement?" he asked.
"When I lost Tiger," she said without taking her eyes from the door.
"Didn't your cat die?"
"That he did, poor Tiger. Ate the rat poison the manager put out in the basement."
Frank nodded and fell silent. After a moment he looked at his neighbor. "When did that happen?"
"Last winter."
._._.
Rose's memory had been correct and Rachael fell into a cart of forgotten bed sheets and towels, stirring up a cloud of dust. Coughing Rachael sat up and hauled herself over the edge of the cart where she tumbled weak-kneed onto the bare concrete. The laundry chute had been uncomfortably tight, Rachael had worried the whole way down she'd become lodged in the darkness.
Despite her desire to stay there on the floor Rachael forced herself up and she used the cart to get back onto her feet. She didn't want to run again, she was horribly exhausted and wanted to stay there in the dimly lit basement with its soothing silence. But that man, Smith was probably still lurking in the building, and as long as Rachael was there people like Rose and Frank were danger.
There were windows in the basement, three of them the size of cereal boxes and covered with stout iron bars. Rachael patted at the dust clinging to her shirt and moved quickly up the stairs. At the top she put her ear to the door first and strained to hear something more than the muffled sounds of a television. After a moment she braved opening it. Cautiously peering into the hallway Rachael saw she had a chance, Smith was mingling among the people in the lobby, talking to them and showing a picture she assumed was of her. Taking a deep breath Rachael slipped out of the basement.
._._.
"Gracias," Face said, slipping Rachael's photograph back into his pocket with frustration.
"De nada," the old man said returning his attention to the bowl of soup before him. Face left the common kitchen with its reek of pine-scented cleanser. His disappointment lifted as he came into the hallway to see Rachael herself walking in the opposite direction. Soundlessly Face approached her, quickly closing the distance between them.
"Don't panic," Face breathed in her ear, putting one hand over her mouth and stifling her frightened scream. "We're here for your protection. There are two men searching the shelter for you as we speak."
Rachael was rigid and Face wasn't entirely sure she understood the situation. He took a breath, "If I take my hand away do you promise not to scream?"
She nodded, but as took his hand away she brought her knee up and slammed her foot into his insole. Surprised Face grunted and sagged at the knee taking his weight off the injured foot. Rachael leapt away and he reached out, missing her by a fraction only to brush the cotton of her tee with his fingers.
"Damnit," he hissed hoping on his good foot as Rachael sprinted down the length of the hall, barely slowly as she slammed her weight against the emergency exit. He set off after her, bellowing over his shoulder for Hannibal. Rachael skidded to a stop in the threshold, clinging to the alley door as she got a look at B.A. and Murdock. Face swore as they stared at her in surprise and the second they waited before springing into action was just long enough. Stepping back into the hallway Rachael pulled the door shut with her leaving his teammates in the alley.
"Miss Strathmore!" Hannibal called coming into the hallway at a jog. She turned at the sound of her name, her back against the door, and looked from Face to Hannibal with wild eyes. Face stepped to one side letting Hannibal join him. "It is important that you trust us. There are men already here, looking for you."
Rachael shook her head.
"You don't have a choice," Face said trying to keep his tone gentle, but his foot still throbbed.
"Please, just go," Rachael said in a shaking voice. "It's safer for you."
"Miss Strathmore, we're quite used to danger," Hannibal said assured her. At the lobby doors Rachael saw the backlit figures that had become part of her recurring memories. Face followed her gaze and nudged Hannibal. Someone at the shelter had directed the goons next door.
"Time to go," Face said with a smile, advancing on Rachael and taking her firmly by the arm. Hannibal pushed open the door and they slipped quietly into the alley.
"We need to get moving," Hannibal said grimly, rounding the van and sliding into the front seat. Still holding Rachael by the arm, Face propelled her towards the backdoor. Murdock hurried to slide the door open for them. He gave the nurse a crooked grin as she stepped inside then looked at Face.
"Hey, Faceman – you limping?"