Ralph broke a ground-floor window to gain access to the building, hoping he wouldn't set off countless alarms in the process. When nothing happened, and he managed to get out of the office he'd found himself in without anyone seeing him, he began to gain a certain degree of confidence. He kept very close to the wall, searching through the unfamiliar corridors for the stairs. Never had he wished so fervently for his power of invisibility. But the suit was upstairs with Bill and Pam, and it wasn't doing anyone any good balled up in a grocery bag. He knew he had to get his hands on it damn quick, before someone got hurt. Exactly how he would accomplish that was a problem he would deal with when he got upstairs. How to get upstairs was the problem immediately at hand.

The corridor ended in a "T" shape just ahead and Ralph padded silently to the corner and peered around. There were stairs, all right. And standing in front of them was a man in a guard's uniform, but Ralph wasn't about to bet the farm whose side he was on. Ralph pulled back quickly before he could be spotted.

The stairs were out, then, and the only other way up was the elevator, which was a few yards behind him down the hall. The elevator was out of the guard's line of sight, but… take the elevator upstairs? Ralph didn't think it was the best idea in the world, but it was the only idea he had to work with at the moment. He moved back and pressed the "up" button and the lights above the sliding door began to descend. Five, four, three…

Ralph fidgeted, looking about worriedly. The guard was just around the corner, after all, and he had no suit between him and the bullets that were likely to come from the guard's gun if he discovered Ralph. The numbers moved altogether too slowly.

Finally the doors began to open, and as they did, the characteristic 'ding' of the arrival bell reverberated down the previously silent corridor just as Ralph had begun to feel a bit cocky. He pulled on the doors to get them to open more quickly He could hear the thud of the guard's boots as the man began to run down the corridor. Of course he hadn't missed the sound; it echoed down the corridor like a gunshot in the Grand Canyon.

The doors slid closed just as the guard reached the elevator bank, and the lighted numbers above the doors began to climb again. The guard opened the master panel beside the elevator and used a key from his ring to trigger the manual switch. In a moment the numbers slowed, stopped… then crept downward again. Keeping the key in the lock with one hand, the guard readied his revolver with the other.

The numbers reached "1" again and the doors opened. But the car was empty. He stuck his head inside to check things out; still nothing. He put his gun into his side holster, removed the key and allowed the doors to reclose. Short circuit… anything could happen with the cheap wiring they had in these newer buildings. Satisfied that nobody was trying anything funny, the guard returned to his post.

Shortly after he moved away, the numbers above the door climbed upward again. Inside the elevator car, Ralph had dropped down from the emergency panel in the ceiling, his clothing disheveled and stained with smudges of machine oil that Pam would have a fit over when she saw them. They wouldn't come out of cotton, she'd tell him… if he could get her out of this mess before something happened to her. Ralph straightened his jacket and allowed himself the luxury of a deep breath to steady his nerves. He'd come too far to back out now.

Some minutes later Ralph was pulling himself forward on his elbows through a ventilation duct. His back brushed the top of the duct with every forward motion; it was dark and tight and beginning to look like not a very good idea at all. But Ralph was fairly certain he would come out in the office area. He could hear voices, and there was a light up ahead. Slowly, silently, he made his way forward.

Finally something had come out the way he'd planned. Through the grid in the wall he could see some of the hostages and some of the terrorists. And one of those hostages was Pam. Ralph felt a wave of relief mixed with fear wash through him. Seeing her was the easy part. Getting her out of there would be the difficult maneuver. He was prone, flat on his stomach to avoid being seen, and for a moment he considered trying to attract her attention. Instead, he removed the communicator from his pocket and spoke into it very softly. "Bill?"

The voice was no more than a whisper, but Bill could make out the sound of his name. Discreetly he removed his own device from his pocket and turned toward the wall to conceal his conversation. "Now what is it?"

Ralph frowned. This was not the reply he'd expected. "Where are you?" he asked.

Bill's shoulders dropped. He was getting more than a little tired of stupid questions. "I'm in a cocktail lounge in Miami Beach; where do you think?"

"I mean where exactly," Ralph shot back. "I can't see you."

Bill was about to fire back another snide remark when the meaning of what Ralph had just said got through to him. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the air shaft," Ralph whispered. "I can see Pam through the grill."

"Ralph, what are you doing?" Bill demanded. "You're not bulletproof now, you know!"

"No kidding. Listen, Bill. You've got to find a way to get me the suit. Where is it?"

"It's… in the bag on my desk. Ralph, this is nuts. It's impossible."

Ralph squinted out the narrow view afforded him and spotted the brown paper bag sitting on his friend's desk. "I know," he replied. "So, how are we gonna do it?"

That was it, then, Bill thought to himself. The kid had gone over. He was a real, card-carrying nutburger if he thought he could pull off this Superman stuff without the jammies. "I don't think you understand, kid." Bill spoke slowly and simply, as if to a small child. "We got no cavalry on this one. You gotta get outta there before they spot you."

"In less than half an hour they're gonna start killing hostages," Ralph reminded the agent. "You know that means you and Pam, don't you?"

"It's gonna mean you too if they find you in that shaft," Bill's authoritative voice crackled through the receiver. "Willya get outta there before someone gets hurt?"

Ralph's brain was in overdrive seeking a plan. "Wait a minute! I think I've got it!"

"Got what?"

Another thing Ralph had from his hiding place was a clandestine birds-eye view of the narrow mail chute behind the row of desks on the far wall of the room. "Where does the mail slot go?"

"The basement, I guess. What do you…"

"That's it." Having a great idea felt almost as good as interrupting Bill. "Put the suit in the mail slot. I can pick it up in the basement."

"But…"

"Just do it, Bill!"

"Ralph…"

"See you." Ralph repocketed the communicator and moved away from the grill, beginning to back out of the air shaft. The first thing that happened was that his suit coat began to creep up backwards over his head, and before he'd gone two feet he was in danger of backing right out of the jacket. He didn't mind that so much; he just hoped he wouldn't get stuck like the Grinch in the chimney in that Dr. Suess cartoon. Slowly, carefully, he began his exit.

Bill was still trying to get him back on the communicator. "Ralph," he whispered harshly. "Ralph, you…"

Pam, attracted by Bill's hissing, joined him in the corner. Before she could ask, he summed up the problem for her. "Well, it's official; he's gone nuts."

"What?" Pam felt she needed a little elaboration on that one.

"Never mind," Bill shook his head. "Can you give me a good diversion while I try and get at the suit?"

"What about the suit?"

Bill sighed; quick instant replay was in order, if they could afford the time-out. "Ralph's in the building. We gotta get him the suit."

Pam looked around. "Where?"

"He's in the air shaft," Bill explained with all the patience he could muster. "And he's got a really good chance of getting himself killed if they catch him."

"Oh, no…"

"Yeah, well, here we go again. Can you get the goon to glue his eyes on you for a coupla seconds?"

"And how would you suggest I do that?"

"Well… I…"

Pamela Hinkley was a very attractive woman. Ralph knew it. Bill knew it, and he wasn't above exploiting any and all resources at their disposal to try and save their lives. Pam, on the other hand, was in control of that particular resource, and she was a firm believer in conservation. "Oh, no, Bill," she breathed, turning on him. "No. No way."

"Come on, it's for a…"

"No!"

Bill motioned for her to keep her voice down. "That slob's been givin' you the eye for…"

Pam shook her head vehemently, refusing even to discuss it.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud. All right, you don't wanta play in the major leagues, you take a dive or something, just get their eyes on you for a few seconds."

Pam stared at his incredulously. She'd expected something much more original. "A dive?" she echoed.

"Just go horizontal on 'em all of a sudden. Make like a…"

"Bill, that is so dated. Nobody falls for that one anymore. When was the last time you planned a diversion?"

This couldn't be happening, Bill insisted to himself. In fifteen minutes those guys were going to start punching holes in peoples' vital organs and he couldn't even map out a decent scenario without Pam going all Women's Lib on him and deep-sixing a perfectly good plan. "Do we have time for this? Willya just play the…"

Bill was cut off when Rahim approached them and spoke to Pam. "Come here." It was the same voice Bill hadn't liked earlier, the one that had said there wasn't anything to worry about. When a guy holding a live grenade said that, it was a good time to question his veracity.

Pam played it dumb. "Me?"

"Come here," Rahim repeated evenly.

"I like it here, thank you."

Before she could think of anything to add, Pam heard the loud click of the hammer on a handgun being pulled back from behind her. She took a deep breath before turning to see what was happening back there, although she had a pretty good idea.

But she was wrong. She'd expected to find the gun at her back, and was not in the least bit relieved to find it pointed at Bill instead. Aram stood at point-blank range with his gun leveled at Bill's head. Bill was trying to act nonchalant, but he wasn't stupid. Six inches plus a .38 slug… well, he didn't like those odds much at all. He raised an eyebrow to Pam to suggest she do as she had been told.

"All right," Pam nodded, her mouth dry. "If you feel that strongly about it…"

She approached Rahim and he grabbed her arm to yank her roughly to him. Pam went limp as overcooked asparagus and Rahim had to keep her from falling to the floor. Aram lowered his gun and turned to Pam as well, and Bill dropped back, realizing that he had his diversion. For the first time since the takeover had occurred, the ball was in his court.

He didn't stop to notice if anyone was watching as he retreated to his desk. If anyone was, and they said anything, he was dead and he might as well step in front of that .38 voluntarily. But he had no time to worry about it. Either he moved now or they moved them all out later in those bags with the six-foot zippers. With difficulty because of the handcuffs, he managed to pull the suit from the bag and slip it piece by piece into the mail slot. When he had finished, he turned around to catch the end of Pam's act. Luck was with them, and about time too… everyone in the immediate area had their eyes on her, and Rahim was still holding her up.

"Stand up," he ordered roughly.

Pam, still laying it on thick, struggled to her feet. "I'm sorry…" she said, feigning dizziness. "I have this pathological fear of guns… I can't even watch Bonanza…"

Rahim pointed to the clock on the wall. "You see there?" He took her chin in his hand and pulled her to face the clock. "You have exactly fifteen minutes to live."

Pam had been trying to stay calm, but it was fast going out the window. The red second hand on the clock seemed to be going faster than she'd ever seen one go before. She cast worried eyes at Bill. His eyes went to the mail slot and then back to meet her own. She understood; the plan had been implemented. It would be fifteen minutes before they knew if it worked or not.

00o00

To Ralph it seemed like the ventilation shaft had been longer coming out than going in. It had been a day of distorted perspectives. But he'd finally made his way back to the broken grating where he'd let himself into the air system and was currently trying to make his way to the basement. All of the exits were clearly marked, and finding the stairs hadn't posed much of a problem. He entered the stairwell and let the pneumatic door swing shut behind him.

Aram, patrolling the corridor, saw it settle shut. He drew his weapon and stealthily worked his way to the stairs. He flung the door open and looked inside. The stairwell was empty, but he could hear descending footsteps. It wasn't any of the men from their group; it could only be an unauthorized intruder. Aram holstered his gun and hurried back to report to Rahim.

Rahim had adopted Carlisle's office as a combination command center and commando rec room; that was where he currently held Pam and Bill. Bill surmised that this meant he was second on the execution schedule, and the idea of dying in Carlisle's office held no appeal for him at all. Aram knocked once and entered, delivering his message in a way that should have made Rahim proud. "An intruder."

Rahim's face darkened. "Where?"

"The rear stairs."

"Find him," Rahim instructed. "Silence him."

Aram nodded and ran toward the door. There was another of their men just outside, and Aram gestured for him to follow. Together they headed back to the stairwell.

The sound of the door at the bottom falling shut reached their ears as soon as they started down. The two men quickened their pace.