A/N: So this is happening at roughly the same time as the previous chapter- things are going to get really cramped for a little while. Sorry!
El listened carefully for the subway rolling past, and found herself rubbing her chafed wrists subconsciously as she waited by the door. She'd be annoyed that Brooke hadn't thought to uncuff her in the last who-knows-how-many hours, but the girl was steadily looking worse for the wear and Elizabeth decided she was grateful that she was even thinking this clearly.
"You sure you can do this?" the blonde asked skeptically from her chair.
"More than I am that you could," Elizabeth replied, only half-joking. She wondered if Brooke noticed she was swaying slightly as she tried to keep her head up to maintain eye contact.
"Right," she conceded, taking a deep breath. "So: just remember to keep low to the floor and pause to listen at the second door. There should be a slight echo in the conversation if they're facing any way but the entrance. And remember to be fluid when you move—hesitation draws eyes." Brooke paused, and El held her breath as she watched the girl's own eyes become unfocused for a moment before clearing as she continued. "His phone is going to be on the corner next to the land-line and the stapler. If anyone moves—hide in the bathroom, then run when I give the signal."
El moved from her spot at the door back to the blonde's chair and she placed her hand lightly on her shoulder. "Everything's going to go fine—you'll see."
"Promise you'll run if I give the signal," her expression was desperate, and made all the more pitiful by being dirtied and discolored.
The brunette nodded, then slipped back into position just as the rolling of the cars came by. She slowly twisted the handle of the now-unlocked door and opened it a crack to sneak a glance into the hallway. She looked back once more at Brooke, then eased into the open corridor.
Making sure to stay low, Elizabeth passed the first door that contained the bathroom. She wrinkled her nose as she leaned against it, listening to the conversation coming from the open second door next to it.
"Right boss," Buckingham's voice was saying, the direction of the sound giving El the impression that he was pacing. "I got it—no word from you by half past and we take care of them. Yeah. Yeah, Ramsey's looking into it."
El couldn't hear the other, so she just hoped like hell and ducked past the door without looking, pausing briefly on the other side as she held her breath and listened.
"Yeah, we checked the docks this morning. They're still empty and ready to load," the voice continued, and the brunette quietly exhaled in relief.
Keeping down, Elizabeth crept further down the hall to where she saw a man facing a group of camera monitors: various screens with people wandering up and down stairwells, onto platforms, on the street, and one that displayed an empty hall that she would've bet money on was the hallway Brooke had said was on the other side of the exit.
She crept as quietly as she could, wondering how Brooke had thought this would work: if the man turned his head at all, he could easily see the woman squatting along the hallway and blow the whistle on all of them. However, as the wife of a Federal Agent, she summoned her courage and made her way to the desk, pressing herself up against the back so as little of her was visible from the man's seat as possible.
El turned slowly, inching up until her eyes could just see over the top, and then she realized why Brooke hadn't been worried: the idiot wasn't even watching the monitors—his eyes were completely trained on a muscle car magazine. The woman probably could've stood on the desk and tap danced and he wouldn't have turned his head. She moved her hands carefully onto the desk, quietly taking the small black phone from its spot and creeping back to the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Brooke was hunched over her chair, twitching slightly. Elizabeth ran to her, kneeling down so she could see into her fellow abductee's face.
"Brooke," she said coaxingly. The girl's breathing was shallow, and her eyes were half-closed. "Brooke? Come on honey, we're so close; don't do this."
Elizabeth watched as Brooke slowly shook herself awake, sitting up and trying to take a deep breath that caused her to break into a cough. Her face was drenched in sweat, and the pale color of her face was now tinged slightly green.
"Did you get it?" she asked, trying to straighten herself.
El held up the cell in triumph. "Assuming we get reception, Peter should be able to track us here," she told the girl happily, flipping the device open.
Suddenly, the phone beeped.
"I thought it was on silent- what did you push?" Brooke asked in confusion.
El stared at the phone in disbelief. "I didn't push anything—the battery's almost dead," she stated incredulously. "What the hell kind of criminal lets his cell phone battery run low?"
Brooke chuckled dryly. "Well, I guess when you have the Russian mob, the FBI, and a six-figure hit out on you, you end up scraping the bottom of the criminal barrel for what you can't do yourself," she observed. She looked at the other woman. "So what are we going to do?"
"When I was passing by the second door, I heard Buckingham talking," Elizabeth told the blonde. "I think Keller's going to the meet now—if he doesn't call them by half past, he's going to kill us."
Brooke's eyes went wide, and El wondered if this was the first time she'd ever really considered how this could end.
The blonde cleared her throat. "So, I guess you better make that phone call count."
Elizabeth nodded, and dialed Peter's cell.