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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
- - - -
Trapped.
Like an animal in a cage.
Jarod felt exactly like that as he stood in the hallway. One hand was on the gun at his side, ready to draw it if he had to. He didn’t have to look over at Samantha to know she was tense like he was, but he knew she was also scared; he could feel her fear. Jarod was scared too, but he knew that it wasn’t the time to focus on the fear; his first priority was getting Samantha and himself away from Steele.
“Now what do we do?” Samantha whispered.
“I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to do,” Steele said, his voice low and steady. “You two are going to accompany me back to my office, and we are going to have a nice, long chat.”
Samantha glanced over at her partner, waiting for him to make a decision; she trusted him with her life and knew to be prepared for anything he might have up his sleeve. Jarod stared at Steele for a few moments, then he nodded.
“Fine,“ Jarod replied. He glanced over at the young woman and saw the concerned expression; he gave her a reassuring look. He didn't have to see her eyes to pick up on her hesitation, but he recognized her acceptance of his decision even before she nodded slightly.
“But first, I want the tape.”
Jarod looked back at Steele; he was surprised and wondered how Steele could have known about the tape . . . unless he had followed them . . . . It suddenly made sense to the elder pretender: they had felt their necks tingle twice in one day, and the second time had been right before Steele showed up. Jarod made a living of statistics and odds, and he was willing to bet that Steele was responsible for the tingle that Jarod and Samantha felt outside Trask’s apartment earlier that day.
Suddenly, a pinging sounded behind the pretenders. They didn’t have to turn and look to know that it was the elevator. They kept their eyes on Steele, and Steele kept his eyes on the pretenders as they heard the sound of doors opening and a cacophony of voices. A crowd of agents exited the elevator and walked past the trio on their way to their desks, totally oblivious of the silent showdown taking place.
Steele stared at Jarod; Jarod got the hint and looked at Samantha. Samantha nodded and headed down the corridor; Jarod followed close behind her, and then Steele behind both of them. Jarod made sure to keep himself between Samantha and Steele; if he felt anything remotely dangerous, he wanted Samantha to have a chance to escape first. No one spoke as they walked to the office. Steele walked past them and stood beside his door as the pretenders entered, then he closed the door behind them. He walked over to his desk, but he didn’t sit; he rested his knuckles on the desk and leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the two people standing in front of him.
“Sit,” he said. The two obeyed. “Now, give me the tape.” Samantha and Jarod glanced at each other, then Jarod sighed softly and reached into his pocket; he pulled out the tape and handed it across the desk. Steele swiftly took it from him. He studied the tape for a few moments, almost as if he could know what secrets it held just by holding it; he glanced briefly at the pretenders before walking over to the television on the stand in the corner. He put the tape in the slot and turned the television on; he pressed the rewind button and grabbed the remote from the stand before walking in front of his desk and leaning against it, looking down at Jarod and Samantha.
Steele watched the two while the tape rewound. “Anything I should know about what’s on this before we get started?” he asked, his voice low. The two kept quiet; if it had been anyone else under his watch, Steele would have chalked it up to fear, but while there was fear in their eyes, along with caution and protectiveness, he knew their silence was a result of defiance; this did not please him.
The click-whirr-click of the tape stopping and then cuing the leader echoed through the tense silence, sounding like nothing so much as a bullet being rotated into a firing chamber. The two pretenders tried to cover any signs of being startled by the sound; they harbored no illusions here - if anything on that tape could be used as amunition against them in any way, this man could and would find it and use it.
Jarod knew when he was being regarded out of curiosity and he knew when he was being studied and measured; he knew that he should, in the interests of self-preservation, do his best to deflect any undue attention, especially from the likes of this man, but this was one of the rare occasions where Jarod didn't heed his own best judgment. Acting more on instinct and an almost petulant defensiveness, he caught Steele's calculating observation of him and turned it back on the man.
Steele knew what Jarod was doing to him, and he was not the least bit amused; he made a mental note to discuss the agent’s behavior with him at a later time, but for now there were other matters to attend to.
The agent glanced over at Samantha, and he saw her rubbing the left side of her neck, right under her jaw, almost like she was cradling it. He saw her eyes widen, and she slowly moved her fingers down to the pressure point on her neck. He watched as she started hunching over in her chair as she reached for her partner’s hand.
Jarod turned as he felt a hand clamp over his; he saw Samantha hunched over in her chair, her hands over her heart, and he could hear her breath coming out in short gasps.
Samantha looked at Jarod with an expression in her eyes that could only be described as fear. "Can’t . . . breath," she wheezed. "Chest . . . hurts." Everything in that office faded into the backdrop, including Steele, as Jarod’s attention focused solely on his young friend. "Nitro . . . tablets . . . in . . . the car."
Jarod briefly wondered for a moment if she was pulling a fast one to get them away from Steele, but the look of terror in her eyes let him know that she wasn’t kidding. Part of him started feeling parental and angry that she had kept yet another secret from him concerning her physical well-being; if the situation hadn’t been so serious, he would have started lecturing her on the value of honesty and trust right then and there, but he knew he had other things to tend to first. Once she was out of danger, he would have a long talk with her.
Jarod carefully helped Samantha to her feet, then he turned to Steele. “I’m taking her to the car to get her tablets,” he said.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” Steele replied, reaching for the phone on his desk.
“No,” Jarod said. “She’ll be fine once she gets her tablets.”
“I don’t care,” Steele replied. “If she has a medical condition, she’s going to the hospital.”
“Fine,” Jarod said without skipping a beat. He knew there was no way to get out of it without arousing suspicion. “But there’s no need to wait around for an ambulance; I’ll take her myself.”
Steele eyed him, then he nodded once. He dialed on his phone as Jarod helped Samantha out of the office, supporting her with one arm around her waist.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said softly as they walked slowly down the hall to the elevators. Jarod pressed the down button, and the doors to one of the elevators immediately opened; the two stepped in, and Jarod pressed the button for their level. The doors closed, and the elevator headed down.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jarod asked. He kept his voice low, but it was laced with anger and hurt and worry. He looked over at the young woman, and she put her head down. Her shoulders started shaking and she made quiet gasping noises. Jarod thought she was crying, and he leaned down toward her, softening instantly. “Sam, I -” Samantha lifted her head and tilted it back as if to feel a breeze on her face; she slid her gaze to the side to regard Jarod, her eyes shimmering with tears and something else.
She was laughing.
Jarod’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ as his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “Sam, what -”
“Oh, give me the Oscar right now!” the young girl grinned as she turned to face her partner.
“You mean, it was an act?” Jarod asked.
“I’d like to thank all the little people.” Samantha pretended to hold the small award as she talking to an imaginary audience. Her grin slowly faded as Jarod’s expression harden, his cheeks turning red, his lips setting in a straight line. “And, um, the tall people too . . . .”
“What the hell were you thinking?” Jarod asked in a voice that the young woman knew was reserved only for times when he was extremely angry. She cowered slightly.
“I was just trying to help,” she said quietly.
“By letting people believe you have a medical condition?” Jarod asked.
“Well, technically, I already do,” Samantha replied wryly.
“Samantha, you know what I mean,” Jarod said, frowning.
“So, you’re not at all happy I got us away from Steele?” the young woman asked slightly annoyed. She knew Jarod was mad at her; he only called her by her full first name when he was mad or concerned or upset. She folded her arms and sighed. “Look, if you don’t like it that much, we can go back up.”
“No,” Jarod said, his anger softening slightly. He was proud of her for thinking on her feet, but her ‘condition’ was going to lead to some things they’d have to eventually take care of. Later, he thought. Right now, they had the opportunity to make good use of their free time.
“Look,” he said; he made sure his tone told Samantha that they were going to be having a long talk about a few of her latest actions. “I’m not happy with the stunt you pulled, but we can use the free time to investigate Trask’s disappearance.”
“How so?” Samantha asked, sound a bit defeated.
“Why don’t you just trust me?” Jarod asked.
Samantha saw the gleam in his eye, and she groaned. “You know I hate it when you do that.”
“I know,” Jarod replied, grinning. “That’s why I do it.” The elevator stopped at their floor, and Jarod became serious. “Okay, just follow my lead.” The doors opened, and both pretenders exited, slipping back into their roles in case anyone was watching. They headed for their car, got in, and Jarod started the engine. The car pulled out of the parking space, and they drove away.
As they headed for the nearest hospital Jarod instructed his young friend on what they were going to do. By the time they reached Harris Methodist Southwest they had a plan. Samantha wasn’t too thrilled about it, but she knew she really didn’t have a choice in the matter; Jarod made that quite clear as they pulled into the drive leading to the emergency room. Jarod stopped the car, killed the engine, and hurried over to the passenger side, picking up Samantha as she started wheezing and gasping for air. He carried the young woman through the emergency room sliding doors.
“I need a doctor!” he shouted. A male and female attendant hurried over to the two, the male pushing a gurney.
“What happened?” the male asked as Jarod lay Samantha on the gurney. He rushed off to one of the cubicles.
“She’s been having chest pains,” Jarod explained.
“Can’t . . . breath,” Samantha wheezed.
“Please help her,” Jarod pleaded.
“We’ll do everything we can,” the female attendant replied as she started unbuttoning Samantha’s shirt. She removed a stethoscope and started listening to Samantha’s heart. “What’s your name, honey?” Samantha tried to talk, but she couldn’t. The female attendant looked up at Jarod as the male attendant came back with a small breathing bag and mask. He slipped the mask over Samantha’s mouth.
“Samantha,” Jarod replied. He caught Samantha’s eyes and gave her a silent ‘remember what we talked about and good luck’ look. She blinked once, silently saying ‘yes’ before the female attendant pushed the gurney down a corridor as the male attendant squeezed the bag, assisting the young woman with her breathing.
Jarod watched for a few moments, then he walked over to the desk. “Excuse me,” he said to the woman behind the desk. The woman looked up. “The young girl I just brought in is going to need a complete examination.”
“But she was just having trouble breathing and chest pains,” the woman replied.
“I know,” Jarod said, “but the FBI ordered a full examination.” He pulled out his badge to show proof. “J.D. Clyde. I’m her superior.”
“Who’s paying for this?” the woman asked.
“The FBI office said they’d pick up half the tab,” Jarod replied. He grabbed a pen and piece of paper, and scribbled an address on it. He handed it to the woman. “This company has graciously offered to pay the other half of the bill.” He gave his best smile to the woman, and she nodded. “And I’ll call the FBI and have them send over a sample of her blood; my colleague gets stressed out around needles, and I don’t think any of us want that right now.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll be sure to tell her doctor.”
“Thank you,” Jarod replied. “Oh, could you point me to the restrooms, please?”
“Down the hall, sir,” the woman replied, pointing.
“Thank you,” Jarod said. He headed down the hall and reached the restroom door. He glanced back and saw the woman with her back to him, doing some filing. Jarod’s continued down the hall, his expression changing to a smirk. Time to put his plan into action.
- - - -
Almost two hours passed before Jarod came to Samantha’s cubicle. He had changed from his FBI clothes into an bark blue EMS uniform, complete with matching cap and forged ID, tossing his other clothes into an ice box marked ‘Organ Transplant.’ He carefully pulled back the curtain shielding the cubicle and saw Samantha in a hospital bed. She wore a flimsy hospital gown, and a breathing tube was in her nose, reminding him of Raines. The young girl’s arms were crossed, and she looked positively ticked off. She glared up at him.
“I hate you,” she said bluntly.
“What’s the matter?” Jarod asked, pretending to look concerned.
“Oh, bite me,” Samantha growled. “You know, I wouldn’t have minded a couple of x-rays and a CAT scan or something, but they did a full examination on me - and I mean a full examination.” She narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”
“Maybe now you’ll start being honest with me,” Jarod replied. “Especially about your health.” Samantha snorted. “You ready?”
“You mind telling me what the heck you were doing while I was being prodded like a guinea pig?” Samantha asked.
Jarod simply smiled as he opened the icebox and pulled out another EMS uniform and matching cap. “I will after you get dressed,” he replied. “We’ve got work to do.”
(End of Chapter 7)
Trapped.
Like an animal in a cage.
Jarod felt exactly like that as he stood in the hallway. One hand was on the gun at his side, ready to draw it if he had to. He didn’t have to look over at Samantha to know she was tense like he was, but he knew she was also scared; he could feel her fear. Jarod was scared too, but he knew that it wasn’t the time to focus on the fear; his first priority was getting Samantha and himself away from Steele.
“Now what do we do?” Samantha whispered.
“I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to do,” Steele said, his voice low and steady. “You two are going to accompany me back to my office, and we are going to have a nice, long chat.”
Samantha glanced over at her partner, waiting for him to make a decision; she trusted him with her life and knew to be prepared for anything he might have up his sleeve. Jarod stared at Steele for a few moments, then he nodded.
“Fine,“ Jarod replied. He glanced over at the young woman and saw the concerned expression; he gave her a reassuring look. He didn't have to see her eyes to pick up on her hesitation, but he recognized her acceptance of his decision even before she nodded slightly.
“But first, I want the tape.”
Jarod looked back at Steele; he was surprised and wondered how Steele could have known about the tape . . . unless he had followed them . . . . It suddenly made sense to the elder pretender: they had felt their necks tingle twice in one day, and the second time had been right before Steele showed up. Jarod made a living of statistics and odds, and he was willing to bet that Steele was responsible for the tingle that Jarod and Samantha felt outside Trask’s apartment earlier that day.
Suddenly, a pinging sounded behind the pretenders. They didn’t have to turn and look to know that it was the elevator. They kept their eyes on Steele, and Steele kept his eyes on the pretenders as they heard the sound of doors opening and a cacophony of voices. A crowd of agents exited the elevator and walked past the trio on their way to their desks, totally oblivious of the silent showdown taking place.
Steele stared at Jarod; Jarod got the hint and looked at Samantha. Samantha nodded and headed down the corridor; Jarod followed close behind her, and then Steele behind both of them. Jarod made sure to keep himself between Samantha and Steele; if he felt anything remotely dangerous, he wanted Samantha to have a chance to escape first. No one spoke as they walked to the office. Steele walked past them and stood beside his door as the pretenders entered, then he closed the door behind them. He walked over to his desk, but he didn’t sit; he rested his knuckles on the desk and leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the two people standing in front of him.
“Sit,” he said. The two obeyed. “Now, give me the tape.” Samantha and Jarod glanced at each other, then Jarod sighed softly and reached into his pocket; he pulled out the tape and handed it across the desk. Steele swiftly took it from him. He studied the tape for a few moments, almost as if he could know what secrets it held just by holding it; he glanced briefly at the pretenders before walking over to the television on the stand in the corner. He put the tape in the slot and turned the television on; he pressed the rewind button and grabbed the remote from the stand before walking in front of his desk and leaning against it, looking down at Jarod and Samantha.
Steele watched the two while the tape rewound. “Anything I should know about what’s on this before we get started?” he asked, his voice low. The two kept quiet; if it had been anyone else under his watch, Steele would have chalked it up to fear, but while there was fear in their eyes, along with caution and protectiveness, he knew their silence was a result of defiance; this did not please him.
The click-whirr-click of the tape stopping and then cuing the leader echoed through the tense silence, sounding like nothing so much as a bullet being rotated into a firing chamber. The two pretenders tried to cover any signs of being startled by the sound; they harbored no illusions here - if anything on that tape could be used as amunition against them in any way, this man could and would find it and use it.
Jarod knew when he was being regarded out of curiosity and he knew when he was being studied and measured; he knew that he should, in the interests of self-preservation, do his best to deflect any undue attention, especially from the likes of this man, but this was one of the rare occasions where Jarod didn't heed his own best judgment. Acting more on instinct and an almost petulant defensiveness, he caught Steele's calculating observation of him and turned it back on the man.
Steele knew what Jarod was doing to him, and he was not the least bit amused; he made a mental note to discuss the agent’s behavior with him at a later time, but for now there were other matters to attend to.
The agent glanced over at Samantha, and he saw her rubbing the left side of her neck, right under her jaw, almost like she was cradling it. He saw her eyes widen, and she slowly moved her fingers down to the pressure point on her neck. He watched as she started hunching over in her chair as she reached for her partner’s hand.
Jarod turned as he felt a hand clamp over his; he saw Samantha hunched over in her chair, her hands over her heart, and he could hear her breath coming out in short gasps.
Samantha looked at Jarod with an expression in her eyes that could only be described as fear. "Can’t . . . breath," she wheezed. "Chest . . . hurts." Everything in that office faded into the backdrop, including Steele, as Jarod’s attention focused solely on his young friend. "Nitro . . . tablets . . . in . . . the car."
Jarod briefly wondered for a moment if she was pulling a fast one to get them away from Steele, but the look of terror in her eyes let him know that she wasn’t kidding. Part of him started feeling parental and angry that she had kept yet another secret from him concerning her physical well-being; if the situation hadn’t been so serious, he would have started lecturing her on the value of honesty and trust right then and there, but he knew he had other things to tend to first. Once she was out of danger, he would have a long talk with her.
Jarod carefully helped Samantha to her feet, then he turned to Steele. “I’m taking her to the car to get her tablets,” he said.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” Steele replied, reaching for the phone on his desk.
“No,” Jarod said. “She’ll be fine once she gets her tablets.”
“I don’t care,” Steele replied. “If she has a medical condition, she’s going to the hospital.”
“Fine,” Jarod said without skipping a beat. He knew there was no way to get out of it without arousing suspicion. “But there’s no need to wait around for an ambulance; I’ll take her myself.”
Steele eyed him, then he nodded once. He dialed on his phone as Jarod helped Samantha out of the office, supporting her with one arm around her waist.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said softly as they walked slowly down the hall to the elevators. Jarod pressed the down button, and the doors to one of the elevators immediately opened; the two stepped in, and Jarod pressed the button for their level. The doors closed, and the elevator headed down.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jarod asked. He kept his voice low, but it was laced with anger and hurt and worry. He looked over at the young woman, and she put her head down. Her shoulders started shaking and she made quiet gasping noises. Jarod thought she was crying, and he leaned down toward her, softening instantly. “Sam, I -” Samantha lifted her head and tilted it back as if to feel a breeze on her face; she slid her gaze to the side to regard Jarod, her eyes shimmering with tears and something else.
She was laughing.
Jarod’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ as his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “Sam, what -”
“Oh, give me the Oscar right now!” the young girl grinned as she turned to face her partner.
“You mean, it was an act?” Jarod asked.
“I’d like to thank all the little people.” Samantha pretended to hold the small award as she talking to an imaginary audience. Her grin slowly faded as Jarod’s expression harden, his cheeks turning red, his lips setting in a straight line. “And, um, the tall people too . . . .”
“What the hell were you thinking?” Jarod asked in a voice that the young woman knew was reserved only for times when he was extremely angry. She cowered slightly.
“I was just trying to help,” she said quietly.
“By letting people believe you have a medical condition?” Jarod asked.
“Well, technically, I already do,” Samantha replied wryly.
“Samantha, you know what I mean,” Jarod said, frowning.
“So, you’re not at all happy I got us away from Steele?” the young woman asked slightly annoyed. She knew Jarod was mad at her; he only called her by her full first name when he was mad or concerned or upset. She folded her arms and sighed. “Look, if you don’t like it that much, we can go back up.”
“No,” Jarod said, his anger softening slightly. He was proud of her for thinking on her feet, but her ‘condition’ was going to lead to some things they’d have to eventually take care of. Later, he thought. Right now, they had the opportunity to make good use of their free time.
“Look,” he said; he made sure his tone told Samantha that they were going to be having a long talk about a few of her latest actions. “I’m not happy with the stunt you pulled, but we can use the free time to investigate Trask’s disappearance.”
“How so?” Samantha asked, sound a bit defeated.
“Why don’t you just trust me?” Jarod asked.
Samantha saw the gleam in his eye, and she groaned. “You know I hate it when you do that.”
“I know,” Jarod replied, grinning. “That’s why I do it.” The elevator stopped at their floor, and Jarod became serious. “Okay, just follow my lead.” The doors opened, and both pretenders exited, slipping back into their roles in case anyone was watching. They headed for their car, got in, and Jarod started the engine. The car pulled out of the parking space, and they drove away.
As they headed for the nearest hospital Jarod instructed his young friend on what they were going to do. By the time they reached Harris Methodist Southwest they had a plan. Samantha wasn’t too thrilled about it, but she knew she really didn’t have a choice in the matter; Jarod made that quite clear as they pulled into the drive leading to the emergency room. Jarod stopped the car, killed the engine, and hurried over to the passenger side, picking up Samantha as she started wheezing and gasping for air. He carried the young woman through the emergency room sliding doors.
“I need a doctor!” he shouted. A male and female attendant hurried over to the two, the male pushing a gurney.
“What happened?” the male asked as Jarod lay Samantha on the gurney. He rushed off to one of the cubicles.
“She’s been having chest pains,” Jarod explained.
“Can’t . . . breath,” Samantha wheezed.
“Please help her,” Jarod pleaded.
“We’ll do everything we can,” the female attendant replied as she started unbuttoning Samantha’s shirt. She removed a stethoscope and started listening to Samantha’s heart. “What’s your name, honey?” Samantha tried to talk, but she couldn’t. The female attendant looked up at Jarod as the male attendant came back with a small breathing bag and mask. He slipped the mask over Samantha’s mouth.
“Samantha,” Jarod replied. He caught Samantha’s eyes and gave her a silent ‘remember what we talked about and good luck’ look. She blinked once, silently saying ‘yes’ before the female attendant pushed the gurney down a corridor as the male attendant squeezed the bag, assisting the young woman with her breathing.
Jarod watched for a few moments, then he walked over to the desk. “Excuse me,” he said to the woman behind the desk. The woman looked up. “The young girl I just brought in is going to need a complete examination.”
“But she was just having trouble breathing and chest pains,” the woman replied.
“I know,” Jarod said, “but the FBI ordered a full examination.” He pulled out his badge to show proof. “J.D. Clyde. I’m her superior.”
“Who’s paying for this?” the woman asked.
“The FBI office said they’d pick up half the tab,” Jarod replied. He grabbed a pen and piece of paper, and scribbled an address on it. He handed it to the woman. “This company has graciously offered to pay the other half of the bill.” He gave his best smile to the woman, and she nodded. “And I’ll call the FBI and have them send over a sample of her blood; my colleague gets stressed out around needles, and I don’t think any of us want that right now.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll be sure to tell her doctor.”
“Thank you,” Jarod replied. “Oh, could you point me to the restrooms, please?”
“Down the hall, sir,” the woman replied, pointing.
“Thank you,” Jarod said. He headed down the hall and reached the restroom door. He glanced back and saw the woman with her back to him, doing some filing. Jarod’s continued down the hall, his expression changing to a smirk. Time to put his plan into action.
- - - -
Almost two hours passed before Jarod came to Samantha’s cubicle. He had changed from his FBI clothes into an bark blue EMS uniform, complete with matching cap and forged ID, tossing his other clothes into an ice box marked ‘Organ Transplant.’ He carefully pulled back the curtain shielding the cubicle and saw Samantha in a hospital bed. She wore a flimsy hospital gown, and a breathing tube was in her nose, reminding him of Raines. The young girl’s arms were crossed, and she looked positively ticked off. She glared up at him.
“I hate you,” she said bluntly.
“What’s the matter?” Jarod asked, pretending to look concerned.
“Oh, bite me,” Samantha growled. “You know, I wouldn’t have minded a couple of x-rays and a CAT scan or something, but they did a full examination on me - and I mean a full examination.” She narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”
“Maybe now you’ll start being honest with me,” Jarod replied. “Especially about your health.” Samantha snorted. “You ready?”
“You mind telling me what the heck you were doing while I was being prodded like a guinea pig?” Samantha asked.
Jarod simply smiled as he opened the icebox and pulled out another EMS uniform and matching cap. “I will after you get dressed,” he replied. “We’ve got work to do.”
(End of Chapter 7)
