Thank you so much for your reviews. Please know I look forward to them, read them all, and appreciate every one. They are gold!
I finished another chapter last night. Guess what that means...? Enjoy!

Just a note from this point forward. I have set this story in the 1990s, so please understand the technology and popular culture will reflect that. I lived through the 90s but I lived through them in Australia, so if I fudge anything American, please forgive me. If you didn't live through the 90s, well get ready for an oldie to tell you about 'way back when'! :D

Still with Ranger in this chapter...

Chapter 3

I had been told once that if a lift dropped, the best idea was to lie flat on the floor. The idea of jumping before it hits the ground is just an urban myth, and is more likely to cause injury than prevent it. I would have had to have reflexes like lightening to follow that instruction, though. The drop happened so suddenly and I barely had time to grasp the railing and hold on. I would never have had time to get the woman on the floor without tackling her down.

The emergency break finally engaged with a screech and dragging jolt.

I estimated we had fallen at least two floors before it engaged, and I would be lying if I said I hadn't been worried. By reflex, I managed to catch the woman before she was thrown forward onto the floor, snagging her jacket and pulling her up. She looked up at me with panicked eyes and I could see she was completely shocked and frightened. I spoke to her soothingly, holding her against me, and not even realising I was speaking Spanish until her look changed slightly to reflect slight bewilderment to mix with her shock.

I switched to English. "Relax, babe, we're OK. The emergency break has engaged, and we can call for help."

Babe? Where the hell did that come from? Yes, she was attractive, but really? I told my mouth to reengage my brain before I speak again. Pull it together soldier! I admonished myself. Ranger. I have been cultivating a street name since my return to civilian life. It helped on the streets, and it also helped me to maintain a persona. I was trying to call myself Ranger more in my head. I knew I would always be Carlos to my family, but Ranger was who I was trying to be.

She looked a little less panicked, but her cheeks seem to pink a little. Whether it's because of me holding her against me, calling her babe, or just the shock, I wouldn't begin to guess. Though it would be nice, in any other circumstance, if it was because of me holding her. Up close, her body was soft and warm, and certainly seemed to be curved in the right places. And her eyes were a vivid blue, wide and dilated in creamy skin. Holding her was no hardship. Once again, I told myself to engage my brain before I embarrassed myself.

I reached out to press the emergency button. To my dismay, it did nothing. No alarm, no light, no phone ringing. I am no expert, but I am guessing it doesn't work any better than the rest of the fucking elevator. I pulled out my cell phone, although I did not know who I was going to call. It didn't matter anyway. The elevator may be old and broken, but the steel and concrete housing was thick enough to do a good job of blocking the signal.

I tried to think of something to do. I gently moved the woman away from me to lean her against the wall and moved to the doors. I am strong, I work out daily and can bench-press more than most men, but the doors were tough to get open. I only managed to open them a couple of inches to see blank concrete walls and the bottom few inches of the outer doors at the very top and very bottom of our doors. Obviously, we hadn't stopped anywhere near level with the floors.

"What are you doing?" The voice was still slightly shaky, but low and even enough to indicate she was not about to flip out.

"Trying to open the doors," I replied brusquely.

"Why?" I flicked her a glance. I normally maintain a blank face as much as possible not to convey any emotions or show weakness, but she still must have caught a hint of my incredulity at the question.

"Uh, I mean… you pressed the button. Won't that call for help, like you said?"

I sighed inaudibly. "Not working." I couldn't hold the doors open much longer, despite my strength, and I let them go with a slight grimace. Not much luck that way.

I looked up. Conventional wisdom says there should be an escape hatch in the ceiling. If I could get it open and climb up, I might be able to open the doors to the floor above. However, when I looked up, the ceiling seemed to be four light boxes covered with plastic panels, and I couldn't tell if any of them masked the hatch. At least the lights were still working. I was not confident the woman wouldn't panic completely if we went dark. I reached up and tried to nudge the light panels to see if I could find a latch or lock. I'm not short, at six feet, but I was stretched up to reach the ceiling at nine feet and I wouldn't be able to do this for long.

I looked over at the woman. She was wearing a slim skirt suit, so she probably wouldn't be keen to do a lot of climbing but needs must. "I'll bend down, and you climb on my shoulders." She looked truly puzzled now.

"To do what, exactly?" A little bit of Jersey-girl attitude was starting to peek through.

"I'm trying to find us a way out, but I can't feel where a ceiling hatch might be. I want you to take a closer look and feel around the edges for hopefully a latch or lock."

She looked dubious at this and seemed to measure my height with her look. "Won't I bang my head on the ceiling sitting on your shoulders?"

"I'll stand up slowly and stay a bit crouched if I need to. You just need to tell me where you want me to move. It won't be elegant, but at least it should get us out of here." Eventually, she nodded hesitantly.

I squatted down with my back to her. She put her bags on the floor and I could hear her rustling her skirt to get herself ready. Her hands came to rest hesitantly on one shoulder and the top of my head as she slid one long leg over my other shoulder. Blood rushed south automatically as I felt that warm, soft, slim leg slide around my neck. When she balanced to slide the other leg and I felt her panties pressed against the back of my neck, the rest of my blood rushed to join in, and I hoped very much she couldn't see the front of my dress pants from her perch. I tried to focus on the situation and the task and ignore what was pressed up against the back of my head.

Once she was balanced on my shoulders, I stood slowly, trying to gauge how close to the ceiling she was, and stopped when I heard her say, "OK, that's high enough. Can you move to the left a bit?" I complied, and she felt around the light panel. I moved to the right when she had no success and she felt around the second panel at the front. Shuffling backwards, we repeated the process in reverse at the rear. I could see from my crouched position that she was really trying but was unsuccessful.

I was disappointed but lowered her carefully back to the floor. She climbed off, thankfully swinging her legs over instead of sliding them this time and straightened her skirt as best she could. Once again, I told myself not to think about what caused the wrinkles in the front of her skirt as she had her legs wrapped around me.

She looked at me expectantly. "What now?" I shook my head.

"I'm out of ideas at the moment. You got any?" I rallied back. She looked a bit sheepish but shook her head.

"Are you sure the button isn't working?" She reached over to press it again herself, then began pressing the other buttons to try and elicit a response. I reached over to stop her.

"Pretty sure nothing is going to work in terms of opening or closing the doors or calling for help. And I'm very sure I don't want this thing to move again, since it doesn't seem to want to stop." She looked horrified for a moment at the thought and desisted pressing buttons.

"But how are we going to get help? You have a cell phone. Can't we call the fire department or something?"

"No signal." She pulled out her own cell and sighed in confirmation. Her shoulders slumped.

Suddenly her face lit up with an idea. It was a very attractive expression. "Can we try opening the doors again to see if we get a signal?" I didn't have any confidence it would work, since I thought it was probably more the concrete shaft than the elevator that was blocking the signal, but I appreciated her lateral thinking and problem solving. I nodded.

"I'll pull the doors open and you try and get a signal. They're not easy to open and I have nothing to jimmy them open with, so you're going to have to be as quick as possible if you get a signal. I won't be able to hold them for more than a couple of minutes." She nodded resolutely and got her phone out.

I moved back to the doors and braced myself before pulling the doors apart. I managed to get them about half a foot apart and she quickly moved up close to the doors and started moving her phone about trying to get a signal. Her brows creased and I could see she wasn't getting anything. I could feel the muscles in my arms start to twitch.

"Can't hold it much longer," I gritted. She moved back away, and I released the doors.

"Nothing," she said dejectedly. I nodded.

I was starting to feel hot in the enclosed elevator and with the exertion, so I took my jacket off and pulled the tie off my neck. I moved to the side of the elevator and sat down on the floor. I hated not being in control with a burning passion, but if there is one thing the Army teaches you it's how to wait patiently. I set myself to wait.

She looked at me for a moment before finally mimicking my actions with her own jacket and sliding down beside me, our legs stretched out in front of us.

We began to wait.

Thank you again for your reviews. Guest reviewer JB, if you're going to take up residence in my head, are you willing to pay rent? :)