Instinct - Part 12
Title: Instinct - Part 12
Author: Lindao
Pairing/Characters: Harold Finch, John Reese, Will Ingram, Nathan Ingram, OFC
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Survival instinct. Some people have it in spades. Will Ingram doesn’t have it at all. But his new girlfriend has enough for both of them. Unfortunately, she’s not who he thinks she is. And her Number just came up. If Finch and Reese are going to save a life - and a budding romance - they’ll have to find out who she is, who wants her dead, and why, even after she brutally dumped him, she won’t stop following Will all over the city.
Season 1, before Firewall.
Warnings: Language, violence
Word Count: 56,000 total
Note: Will is about to swear, Repeatedly.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
The girl was quick, fluid, very quiet. Reese was just a little quieter. He grabbed her from behind, his right arm completely around her shoulders, pinning her arms down, and his left hand over her mouth, holding her head tight and still against his shoulder. He moved his right leg to the side just in time to avoid the vicious donkey kick she aimed at his kneecap. “Stop it,” he said in her ear. “It’s Reese.”
She bit his hand hard enough to draw blood. He shook her, but he didn’t remove his hand. “Stop it,” he repeated.
She bit him a second time. Then she tried to kick him again.
Reese growled softly. He slid his injured hand up just enough to pinch her nose between his thumb and forefinger, pressed his bleeding palm against her mouth, and smothered her. Julie struggled wildly, fighting for air. He didn’t let her have any.
She tried for one last kick, one last bite.
Finally she slumped in his arms.
Reese kept his hand in place for five more seconds, then removed it just enough to let her breathe. “Nice try,” he murmured, “but I know you’re still with me.
She took a couple deep breaths and tried to lunge away from him. Since he hadn’t loosened his right arm, she went nowhere. “Are you going to stop,” Reese said, “or are we going to waste time going another round?”
Julie stopped struggling and stood very still, very tense in his grip. “Where’s Ingram?”
“I don’t have him,” Reese answered. “But I’m here to get him back.” He held his left hand out in front of her face. Her teeth had sliced into his palm, leaving two short, very deep incisions. Blood dripped from his hand onto the ground. There was probably more on her face and mouth.
She wriggled a little. “Let go.”
If he did, he knew, she’d either run, probably right into danger, or turn on him and try to claw his eyes out. “Not just yet. Let’s talk. You know this is a trap, right?”
“I know.”
“You saw Ingram’s friends?”
“Yes.”
“Did you call the cops?”
Julie shook her head. “They’ll get him killed.”
“So you just blew off all your training and came out here to get him by yourself?”
“Yes.”
Reese nodded. “That’s the kind of thinking I like in a girl. Do you have any back-up at all?”
“My handler’s coming.”
“Your handler,” John informed her, “sold you out to these guys.”
She went quiet for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Julie stood very still. Reese loosened his grip some, but she didn’t try to move away. She pulled one hand free and wiped her mouth, then wiped it on her jacket. “Who are they?” she asked.
“The blond guy you’ve been chasing is Rudy Gund. He’s a pro. The other five are just his flunkies.”
“What do they want with Will?”
“He’s bait. I told you, they want you. Dead. Tonight.”
The girl didn’t panic. She just stood in his arms and continued to gather information, calmly, methodically. Reese liked that about her. “Why?”
“So that no one finds out that Grandma’s trust fund is fifty million dollars light.”
The young woman shuddered, just once. “Schaeffer hired them?”
“Yes.”
“And it’s all about the money.”
“It usually is.”
“Please let go now.”
Reese dropped his arms. Julie turned, but stayed close. Studied his face. And didn’t try to rip it off. She took a tissue out of her jacket pocket and pressed it against his palm. “They won’t let Will go.”
It wasn’t a question, but Reese answered it anyhow. “No. They need you to die in the line of duty, trying to save him. Gund will drop a few of the hired hands, make it look like some kind of half-assed terrorist thing. But Will Ingram will not survive.”
Julie nodded. “Then I’ve got to go get my boy back.”
Reese put a hand on her shoulder. He wasn’t precisely restraining her, but they both knew he could. “Once they have you, they’ve got no reason to keep him alive. Stay here. I’ll get him.”
“No.”
“You don’t trust me.”
Her eyes never wavered. “I would trust you with my life just because Mark Snow wants you dead. With my life. But not with his.”
“His life is worth more than yours?”
“Oh, God, yes.”
Reese nodded. “I thought you might feel that way.”
“Mr. Reese,” Finch said in his ear, “this is a bad idea.”
Reese ignored him. He’d already made the calculation. Reese against six armed men: No problem. One of the six was a highly-skilled assassin: Still no problem. But Reese with a frightened and possibly resistant hostage against five guns plus one expert, and suddenly he didn’t like the odds. The girl could get to Ingram to go with her far more easily than he could. Essex with Ingram, and Reese’s hands were still free. Back to no problem.
If she’d been a civilian, he would have left her handcuffed to a radiator somewhere, complaining bitterly behind a gag while he rescued the young doctor. But Julie Essex was a professional. She wasn’t as well-trained as he was, nor as skilled, but she was a professional nonetheless. She knew the risks and the odds. And presumably she knew how to use a gun.
If the girl stayed outside, she was safe, but he might lose Ingram. If the girl came in with him, she was much less safe, but Ingram was much more likely to survive.
There was a final calculation, and it was a cold and brutal one that Reese made without hesitation: If they lost the girl, Finch would be distraught. If they lost the boy, Finch might be destroyed.
Finch had lost enough.
It helped that Julie was not only willing but adamant. He wouldn’t have ordered her to go, or even asked her to. But the way the odds stacked up, he certainly wasn’t going to force her to stay behind.
He released her shoulder and reached behind him for the pack Finch had brought. “Put this on.” He held a bulletproof vest out to her.
The woman took it, retreated half a dozen steps, and put it on without taking her eyes off him. Reese watched her with some amusement; clearly she knew exactly what the civilian treatment plan was and she wasn’t giving him a chance to grab her. “Relax. You can come along. I promise.”
She strapped the vest on tightly. “Why are you here?”
“Same reason you are. To get the boy back.”
She didn’t ask any more questions. Reese liked professionals. He handed her the pack, helped her slip it over her shoulders. “There’s a second vest in there. When you get to Ingram, put it on him and get him out. There will probably be zip ties. Have you still got a knife?”
“I’ve got one.”
“Good girl.” He reached for her head and she reared back. “Calm down. It’s an earwig.”
Julie took the device and put it in her ear. “How can you hear me?”
“Over your phone.”
“How long have you had my phone bugged?”
“Since you landed at the airport.”
“Fantastic.”
He checked the link. “Come on.”
They slid through the shadows around the side of the building, past the gate and into the work yard. “Can you prove it?” she asked.
“What?”
“The assassin, the money. Is there proof out there, somewhere?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“If we both die here, will they get away with it?”
Reese shook his head. “No. They won’t.”
“Good.”
“But let’s not die here, anyhow.”
“Okay.”
Reese reached the dumpster and climbed up, almost silently. He was not surprised when Julie followed him without assistance. Here at the back of the buildings the windows had only been installed on the first two floors; above, there were unfinished openings. He pointed to the third floor. “You’re going in there,” he said. “Ingram’s probably on the top floor. Find him, get him and then get down the northeast stairs. I’ll make sure they’re clear.”
“Six against one?”
Reese shrugged. “I’ll keep one hand behind my back, if you think that makes it more fair.”
Julie raised one eyebrow at him. “Do they just install some kind of ego chip when you join the Agency, or how does that work?”
He grinned crookedly. “Just get the boy. Don’t worry about me. I’ll try not to shoot anybody until you’re got him.” He checked his gun, watched while she checked hers. He’d had Finch bring heavier firepower, but after one look at the building he’d left it in the car. The interior walls were nothing but drywall; his odds of shooting right through and killing a friendly were too high for anything but handguns.
“Speaking of ego,” he said, “I have to know. Did you really sleep with Mark Snow?”
Julie nodded. “Well, no. Technically. I don’t remember any sleeping that weekend.”
Reese groaned.
“Mr. Reese,” Finch scolded in his ear, “Will Ingram’s life is still in danger. Is this really the best use of your time?”
It was, actually, Reese thought. He wanted Snow in the back of her mind. Their target had much the same mindset as Mark; he wanted her to have instant access to that way of thinking. He didn’t plan on letting Gund have enough time to toy with her, but the best-laid plans sometimes went wrong. A bit of mental defense never hurt.
“And to answer your next question,” Julie continued, “yes, the sex was really that good.”
“You could have lied about that.”
“You could have lied about the phone.” She looked up at the opening where the third floor window should have been. “Let’s do this.”
Reese set his feet, then locked his fingers together and bent slightly to offer her a boost. She put her right foot in the stirrup of his hands, pushed up swiftly, put her left foot on his shoulder, and then she was gone. Reese looked up in time to see her roll over the open windowsill and disappear into the building. He climbed down and went around the side of the building, in search of the first sentry.
____________________________________________________________________
Helpless. Will Ingram was in danger again, and Harold Finch was still helpless.
Finch sat behind the wheel of the car and glared at his laptop screen. He could look at the blueprints of the building. He could hear every word Reese and the woman said. What he could not do was be of any possible use to them. He put his hands on the steering wheel and squeezed as hard as he could. The motion caused pain to shoot up his arm to his neck. He held on, reveling in the pain for a moment.
The boy wasn’t halfway around the world this time. He was right there, inside the building somewhere. He was in danger, possibly in pain. And there still wasn’t a damn thing Finch could do about it.
It hadn’t always been like this. He could run once. He could have …
It was all a lie. He could never have kept up with the girl, not on his best day. He would never have been any use to Reese in this situation, even before his injury. He was not a physical man. He never had been. His talent was for …
Finch released the steering wheel. Relief washed up his arm neck. His talent, he reminded himself, was for intellectual pursuits. He could look at the blueprints, he could provide …
He stopped and looked over at the half-constructed building. The front and sides had all the windows in place. In the back, the only bottom two floors were fully enclosed. The space behind the building was enclosed behind a high temporary fence. It was always a challenge in the city to close in a site faster than the thieves could steal the building materials, while at the same time leaving openings to get additional materials inside. What they’d done here was typical. Seal off the easy entrances, and use a crane to get rest in through the unfinished windows. But building officials in the city were highly paranoid about things like fires in construction zones, because of the real possibility that a fire could spread to neighboring properties. So they were strict about security controls for any project as it became enclosed.
Which all meant, Finch realized, that somewhere there was a control panel. And that, that was where his talent came into play.
He tucked his laptop under his arm and slid out of the car. He looked around, then moved carefully through the gate and across to the construction trailer. It was padlocked, but that lock presented no great challenge. As a precaution, he carried the lock into the trailer with him. He snapped on the small work lamp and sat down at the panel.
A quick scan told him everything he needed to know. He tapped his earwig. “Mr. Reese?”
“Finch? Where are you?”
“In the construction trailer.”
“You said you’d stay in the car.”
“Yes, yes. But from here I can control all the interior door locks, and also the construction lights.”
Reese sighed. “Stay there, Finch. And stay off the girl’s feed.”
“Of course.” He set up the phones swiftly, so that Reese could talk to him or to Julie, but that the conversations could not overlap. The last thing they needed, at this juncture, was for Ms. Essex to connect Will’s Uncle Harold with John Reese, and she might be good enough with voices to do just that if she heard him.
Finch stretched his hands out over the control panel and mentally practiced the lay-out. It might be of no use at all, but at least he wasn’t sitting in the car. He set up the laptop on the counter next to him. “Let me know what you need.”
___________________________________________________________________
Reese caught the first sentry from behind and put him down with a single punch. He wasn’t sure how long he’d need him to stay down, so he secured his hands behind his back with a zip tie, gagged him, and tucked him into the first room to his left. “Finch? Room 102. Can you lock the door?”
In three seconds, the mechanical lock clicked. “Done,” Finch said.
“Good.” Reese drew his weapon and moved into further into the building. His main goal was to clear the stairway, but he didn’t want to give Gund a chance to trap them, either. He wished he had thermal imaging, maybe a little satellite view. He could ask Finch to get it, he supposed. For all he knew, Finch could manage it.
It was a scary notion.
He moved to the southwest staircase and started up.
___________________________________________________________________
Julie said, very quietly, “Reese, I’ve got one in the north sixth floor corridor, just off the staircase. He’s wandering. Doesn’t look very bright.”
“Can you get around him?”
“No problem.”
“Leave him, then. Find the boy.”
“He’s all yours.”
Reese nodded his approval. If the man wasn’t paying close attention, Julie could simply slip past him. Apparently she did, because the next thing he heard was a bit of frantic thumping that sounded like a chair being hopped on the floor, and then her voice again, in a whisper. “Will, stop, stop. It’s me. Shh, it’s me.”
The thumping stopped, and shortly after Will Ingram said, “Julie? What are you doing here?”
“Shhh.” There was a snap of zip tie being cut. “How come every time I turn my back, you let someone tie you up?”
“I offered to let you tie me up, but you wouldn’t go for it.”
Evidently, Reese thought, the boy wasn’t badly injured.
Another snap. “Don’t think I wasn’t tempted. Wiggle your toes. Get some feeling back in your feet.”
“Who are these guys?”
“Long story. Can you walk? Come here.”
“Julie …”
“Shh. Over here.”
“Julie, I am really sorry. I was a total dick at the airport.”
“Take your jacket off. Put this on.”
“What is it?”
“Second Chance. My personal favorite.”
“I love you, Julie.”
“Other arm. There. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’re very brave and very kind. I know everything important.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I … oww! Does it have to be that tight?”
“Only if you want it to keep the bullets out. Put your jacket back on.”
Reese grinned to himself. He came upon the second flunky. Like Julie’s sentry upstairs, this one was wandering. Reese guessed that the wanderers and the one he’d already subdued were meant to be the sacrificial terrorists in this little drama. He moved up behind the man. As he reached for him, the man turned around. Reese hit him hard in the jaw. The man staggered back, but he didn’t go down, Instead he bolted for the exit.
“No, you don’t,” Reese muttered. He caught him as he opened the door and dragged him back into the stairwell. The man swung wildly; Reese ducked it easily, hit him in the ribs and then caught the face again as he doubled over.
The man dropped. Reese was pretty sure this one wouldn’t get up soon, but he hauled him by the collar out into the hallway anyhow and shoved him into a room. He tapped his earwig. “Finch?” he called again. “Lock 204.”
Again the door lock clicked. “Done.” In that one word, Reese could hear his intense relief about Ingram.
“I like this lock thing, Finch.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
Reese went back to the stairwell, and back to listening to Essex and Ingram.
“ … one thing that’s important that I don’t know about you?” Ingram was asking.
“Three,” the girl answered. “I have eleven brothers and two sisters. This time tomorrow I’ll have a personal net worth somewhere north of Donald Trump’s. And I’m not really a blonde. Let’s go.”
“Wait. What?”
“Which what?”
“You’re not really a blonde? Yeah, that’s definitely a deal-breaker.”
The girl didn’t laugh out loud, but there was a chuckle in her voice. “Damn it, Ingram …”
And then there was silence.
Reese paused, frowning. The silence was wrong. Something had happened.
And then the girl again, very soft. “Stop it. We have to move.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know if I’d get a chance to do that again.”
Reese took a deep breath and kept moving. There were reasons operatives weren’t supposed to be involved with their assignments. Stopping in mid-rescue for a quick make-out session was just one of many. But the girl, at least, seemed to have recovered her wits. “Here’s what you need to know about wearing a bullet-proof vest: It won’t stop a head shot.”
“Well, duh.”
“Yeah, duh. You’d be surprised how not intuitive that concept is when guns start going off. Second thing. If I tell you to run, I mean it. There are stairs in that corner. Find them, get down them, and run.”
“I won’t leave you …”
There was a soft but distinct thump - of a young man’s body bring shoved against a wall, not with any great gentleness. “Listen to me,” Essex hissed. “If I tell you to run, it’s because I need to be sure you’re not under my feet when I move. Because I don’t have time to be tangled up with you. I need you to run so I can do what I need to do to keep us both alive. If I have to argue with you, it’s likely to get me killed. Got it?”
After a moment, very grudgingly, Ingram answered, “Got it.”
“Good. Stay close. Let’s go.”
Author: Lindao
Pairing/Characters: Harold Finch, John Reese, Will Ingram, Nathan Ingram, OFC
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Survival instinct. Some people have it in spades. Will Ingram doesn’t have it at all. But his new girlfriend has enough for both of them. Unfortunately, she’s not who he thinks she is. And her Number just came up. If Finch and Reese are going to save a life - and a budding romance - they’ll have to find out who she is, who wants her dead, and why, even after she brutally dumped him, she won’t stop following Will all over the city.
Season 1, before Firewall.
Warnings: Language, violence
Word Count: 56,000 total
Note: Will is about to swear, Repeatedly.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
The girl was quick, fluid, very quiet. Reese was just a little quieter. He grabbed her from behind, his right arm completely around her shoulders, pinning her arms down, and his left hand over her mouth, holding her head tight and still against his shoulder. He moved his right leg to the side just in time to avoid the vicious donkey kick she aimed at his kneecap. “Stop it,” he said in her ear. “It’s Reese.”
She bit his hand hard enough to draw blood. He shook her, but he didn’t remove his hand. “Stop it,” he repeated.
She bit him a second time. Then she tried to kick him again.
Reese growled softly. He slid his injured hand up just enough to pinch her nose between his thumb and forefinger, pressed his bleeding palm against her mouth, and smothered her. Julie struggled wildly, fighting for air. He didn’t let her have any.
She tried for one last kick, one last bite.
Finally she slumped in his arms.
Reese kept his hand in place for five more seconds, then removed it just enough to let her breathe. “Nice try,” he murmured, “but I know you’re still with me.
She took a couple deep breaths and tried to lunge away from him. Since he hadn’t loosened his right arm, she went nowhere. “Are you going to stop,” Reese said, “or are we going to waste time going another round?”
Julie stopped struggling and stood very still, very tense in his grip. “Where’s Ingram?”
“I don’t have him,” Reese answered. “But I’m here to get him back.” He held his left hand out in front of her face. Her teeth had sliced into his palm, leaving two short, very deep incisions. Blood dripped from his hand onto the ground. There was probably more on her face and mouth.
She wriggled a little. “Let go.”
If he did, he knew, she’d either run, probably right into danger, or turn on him and try to claw his eyes out. “Not just yet. Let’s talk. You know this is a trap, right?”
“I know.”
“You saw Ingram’s friends?”
“Yes.”
“Did you call the cops?”
Julie shook her head. “They’ll get him killed.”
“So you just blew off all your training and came out here to get him by yourself?”
“Yes.”
Reese nodded. “That’s the kind of thinking I like in a girl. Do you have any back-up at all?”
“My handler’s coming.”
“Your handler,” John informed her, “sold you out to these guys.”
She went quiet for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Julie stood very still. Reese loosened his grip some, but she didn’t try to move away. She pulled one hand free and wiped her mouth, then wiped it on her jacket. “Who are they?” she asked.
“The blond guy you’ve been chasing is Rudy Gund. He’s a pro. The other five are just his flunkies.”
“What do they want with Will?”
“He’s bait. I told you, they want you. Dead. Tonight.”
The girl didn’t panic. She just stood in his arms and continued to gather information, calmly, methodically. Reese liked that about her. “Why?”
“So that no one finds out that Grandma’s trust fund is fifty million dollars light.”
The young woman shuddered, just once. “Schaeffer hired them?”
“Yes.”
“And it’s all about the money.”
“It usually is.”
“Please let go now.”
Reese dropped his arms. Julie turned, but stayed close. Studied his face. And didn’t try to rip it off. She took a tissue out of her jacket pocket and pressed it against his palm. “They won’t let Will go.”
It wasn’t a question, but Reese answered it anyhow. “No. They need you to die in the line of duty, trying to save him. Gund will drop a few of the hired hands, make it look like some kind of half-assed terrorist thing. But Will Ingram will not survive.”
Julie nodded. “Then I’ve got to go get my boy back.”
Reese put a hand on her shoulder. He wasn’t precisely restraining her, but they both knew he could. “Once they have you, they’ve got no reason to keep him alive. Stay here. I’ll get him.”
“No.”
“You don’t trust me.”
Her eyes never wavered. “I would trust you with my life just because Mark Snow wants you dead. With my life. But not with his.”
“His life is worth more than yours?”
“Oh, God, yes.”
Reese nodded. “I thought you might feel that way.”
“Mr. Reese,” Finch said in his ear, “this is a bad idea.”
Reese ignored him. He’d already made the calculation. Reese against six armed men: No problem. One of the six was a highly-skilled assassin: Still no problem. But Reese with a frightened and possibly resistant hostage against five guns plus one expert, and suddenly he didn’t like the odds. The girl could get to Ingram to go with her far more easily than he could. Essex with Ingram, and Reese’s hands were still free. Back to no problem.
If she’d been a civilian, he would have left her handcuffed to a radiator somewhere, complaining bitterly behind a gag while he rescued the young doctor. But Julie Essex was a professional. She wasn’t as well-trained as he was, nor as skilled, but she was a professional nonetheless. She knew the risks and the odds. And presumably she knew how to use a gun.
If the girl stayed outside, she was safe, but he might lose Ingram. If the girl came in with him, she was much less safe, but Ingram was much more likely to survive.
There was a final calculation, and it was a cold and brutal one that Reese made without hesitation: If they lost the girl, Finch would be distraught. If they lost the boy, Finch might be destroyed.
Finch had lost enough.
It helped that Julie was not only willing but adamant. He wouldn’t have ordered her to go, or even asked her to. But the way the odds stacked up, he certainly wasn’t going to force her to stay behind.
He released her shoulder and reached behind him for the pack Finch had brought. “Put this on.” He held a bulletproof vest out to her.
The woman took it, retreated half a dozen steps, and put it on without taking her eyes off him. Reese watched her with some amusement; clearly she knew exactly what the civilian treatment plan was and she wasn’t giving him a chance to grab her. “Relax. You can come along. I promise.”
She strapped the vest on tightly. “Why are you here?”
“Same reason you are. To get the boy back.”
She didn’t ask any more questions. Reese liked professionals. He handed her the pack, helped her slip it over her shoulders. “There’s a second vest in there. When you get to Ingram, put it on him and get him out. There will probably be zip ties. Have you still got a knife?”
“I’ve got one.”
“Good girl.” He reached for her head and she reared back. “Calm down. It’s an earwig.”
Julie took the device and put it in her ear. “How can you hear me?”
“Over your phone.”
“How long have you had my phone bugged?”
“Since you landed at the airport.”
“Fantastic.”
He checked the link. “Come on.”
They slid through the shadows around the side of the building, past the gate and into the work yard. “Can you prove it?” she asked.
“What?”
“The assassin, the money. Is there proof out there, somewhere?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“If we both die here, will they get away with it?”
Reese shook his head. “No. They won’t.”
“Good.”
“But let’s not die here, anyhow.”
“Okay.”
Reese reached the dumpster and climbed up, almost silently. He was not surprised when Julie followed him without assistance. Here at the back of the buildings the windows had only been installed on the first two floors; above, there were unfinished openings. He pointed to the third floor. “You’re going in there,” he said. “Ingram’s probably on the top floor. Find him, get him and then get down the northeast stairs. I’ll make sure they’re clear.”
“Six against one?”
Reese shrugged. “I’ll keep one hand behind my back, if you think that makes it more fair.”
Julie raised one eyebrow at him. “Do they just install some kind of ego chip when you join the Agency, or how does that work?”
He grinned crookedly. “Just get the boy. Don’t worry about me. I’ll try not to shoot anybody until you’re got him.” He checked his gun, watched while she checked hers. He’d had Finch bring heavier firepower, but after one look at the building he’d left it in the car. The interior walls were nothing but drywall; his odds of shooting right through and killing a friendly were too high for anything but handguns.
“Speaking of ego,” he said, “I have to know. Did you really sleep with Mark Snow?”
Julie nodded. “Well, no. Technically. I don’t remember any sleeping that weekend.”
Reese groaned.
“Mr. Reese,” Finch scolded in his ear, “Will Ingram’s life is still in danger. Is this really the best use of your time?”
It was, actually, Reese thought. He wanted Snow in the back of her mind. Their target had much the same mindset as Mark; he wanted her to have instant access to that way of thinking. He didn’t plan on letting Gund have enough time to toy with her, but the best-laid plans sometimes went wrong. A bit of mental defense never hurt.
“And to answer your next question,” Julie continued, “yes, the sex was really that good.”
“You could have lied about that.”
“You could have lied about the phone.” She looked up at the opening where the third floor window should have been. “Let’s do this.”
Reese set his feet, then locked his fingers together and bent slightly to offer her a boost. She put her right foot in the stirrup of his hands, pushed up swiftly, put her left foot on his shoulder, and then she was gone. Reese looked up in time to see her roll over the open windowsill and disappear into the building. He climbed down and went around the side of the building, in search of the first sentry.
____________________________________________________________________
Helpless. Will Ingram was in danger again, and Harold Finch was still helpless.
Finch sat behind the wheel of the car and glared at his laptop screen. He could look at the blueprints of the building. He could hear every word Reese and the woman said. What he could not do was be of any possible use to them. He put his hands on the steering wheel and squeezed as hard as he could. The motion caused pain to shoot up his arm to his neck. He held on, reveling in the pain for a moment.
The boy wasn’t halfway around the world this time. He was right there, inside the building somewhere. He was in danger, possibly in pain. And there still wasn’t a damn thing Finch could do about it.
It hadn’t always been like this. He could run once. He could have …
It was all a lie. He could never have kept up with the girl, not on his best day. He would never have been any use to Reese in this situation, even before his injury. He was not a physical man. He never had been. His talent was for …
Finch released the steering wheel. Relief washed up his arm neck. His talent, he reminded himself, was for intellectual pursuits. He could look at the blueprints, he could provide …
He stopped and looked over at the half-constructed building. The front and sides had all the windows in place. In the back, the only bottom two floors were fully enclosed. The space behind the building was enclosed behind a high temporary fence. It was always a challenge in the city to close in a site faster than the thieves could steal the building materials, while at the same time leaving openings to get additional materials inside. What they’d done here was typical. Seal off the easy entrances, and use a crane to get rest in through the unfinished windows. But building officials in the city were highly paranoid about things like fires in construction zones, because of the real possibility that a fire could spread to neighboring properties. So they were strict about security controls for any project as it became enclosed.
Which all meant, Finch realized, that somewhere there was a control panel. And that, that was where his talent came into play.
He tucked his laptop under his arm and slid out of the car. He looked around, then moved carefully through the gate and across to the construction trailer. It was padlocked, but that lock presented no great challenge. As a precaution, he carried the lock into the trailer with him. He snapped on the small work lamp and sat down at the panel.
A quick scan told him everything he needed to know. He tapped his earwig. “Mr. Reese?”
“Finch? Where are you?”
“In the construction trailer.”
“You said you’d stay in the car.”
“Yes, yes. But from here I can control all the interior door locks, and also the construction lights.”
Reese sighed. “Stay there, Finch. And stay off the girl’s feed.”
“Of course.” He set up the phones swiftly, so that Reese could talk to him or to Julie, but that the conversations could not overlap. The last thing they needed, at this juncture, was for Ms. Essex to connect Will’s Uncle Harold with John Reese, and she might be good enough with voices to do just that if she heard him.
Finch stretched his hands out over the control panel and mentally practiced the lay-out. It might be of no use at all, but at least he wasn’t sitting in the car. He set up the laptop on the counter next to him. “Let me know what you need.”
___________________________________________________________________
Reese caught the first sentry from behind and put him down with a single punch. He wasn’t sure how long he’d need him to stay down, so he secured his hands behind his back with a zip tie, gagged him, and tucked him into the first room to his left. “Finch? Room 102. Can you lock the door?”
In three seconds, the mechanical lock clicked. “Done,” Finch said.
“Good.” Reese drew his weapon and moved into further into the building. His main goal was to clear the stairway, but he didn’t want to give Gund a chance to trap them, either. He wished he had thermal imaging, maybe a little satellite view. He could ask Finch to get it, he supposed. For all he knew, Finch could manage it.
It was a scary notion.
He moved to the southwest staircase and started up.
___________________________________________________________________
Julie said, very quietly, “Reese, I’ve got one in the north sixth floor corridor, just off the staircase. He’s wandering. Doesn’t look very bright.”
“Can you get around him?”
“No problem.”
“Leave him, then. Find the boy.”
“He’s all yours.”
Reese nodded his approval. If the man wasn’t paying close attention, Julie could simply slip past him. Apparently she did, because the next thing he heard was a bit of frantic thumping that sounded like a chair being hopped on the floor, and then her voice again, in a whisper. “Will, stop, stop. It’s me. Shh, it’s me.”
The thumping stopped, and shortly after Will Ingram said, “Julie? What are you doing here?”
“Shhh.” There was a snap of zip tie being cut. “How come every time I turn my back, you let someone tie you up?”
“I offered to let you tie me up, but you wouldn’t go for it.”
Evidently, Reese thought, the boy wasn’t badly injured.
Another snap. “Don’t think I wasn’t tempted. Wiggle your toes. Get some feeling back in your feet.”
“Who are these guys?”
“Long story. Can you walk? Come here.”
“Julie …”
“Shh. Over here.”
“Julie, I am really sorry. I was a total dick at the airport.”
“Take your jacket off. Put this on.”
“What is it?”
“Second Chance. My personal favorite.”
“I love you, Julie.”
“Other arm. There. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’re very brave and very kind. I know everything important.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I … oww! Does it have to be that tight?”
“Only if you want it to keep the bullets out. Put your jacket back on.”
Reese grinned to himself. He came upon the second flunky. Like Julie’s sentry upstairs, this one was wandering. Reese guessed that the wanderers and the one he’d already subdued were meant to be the sacrificial terrorists in this little drama. He moved up behind the man. As he reached for him, the man turned around. Reese hit him hard in the jaw. The man staggered back, but he didn’t go down, Instead he bolted for the exit.
“No, you don’t,” Reese muttered. He caught him as he opened the door and dragged him back into the stairwell. The man swung wildly; Reese ducked it easily, hit him in the ribs and then caught the face again as he doubled over.
The man dropped. Reese was pretty sure this one wouldn’t get up soon, but he hauled him by the collar out into the hallway anyhow and shoved him into a room. He tapped his earwig. “Finch?” he called again. “Lock 204.”
Again the door lock clicked. “Done.” In that one word, Reese could hear his intense relief about Ingram.
“I like this lock thing, Finch.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
Reese went back to the stairwell, and back to listening to Essex and Ingram.
“ … one thing that’s important that I don’t know about you?” Ingram was asking.
“Three,” the girl answered. “I have eleven brothers and two sisters. This time tomorrow I’ll have a personal net worth somewhere north of Donald Trump’s. And I’m not really a blonde. Let’s go.”
“Wait. What?”
“Which what?”
“You’re not really a blonde? Yeah, that’s definitely a deal-breaker.”
The girl didn’t laugh out loud, but there was a chuckle in her voice. “Damn it, Ingram …”
And then there was silence.
Reese paused, frowning. The silence was wrong. Something had happened.
And then the girl again, very soft. “Stop it. We have to move.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know if I’d get a chance to do that again.”
Reese took a deep breath and kept moving. There were reasons operatives weren’t supposed to be involved with their assignments. Stopping in mid-rescue for a quick make-out session was just one of many. But the girl, at least, seemed to have recovered her wits. “Here’s what you need to know about wearing a bullet-proof vest: It won’t stop a head shot.”
“Well, duh.”
“Yeah, duh. You’d be surprised how not intuitive that concept is when guns start going off. Second thing. If I tell you to run, I mean it. There are stairs in that corner. Find them, get down them, and run.”
“I won’t leave you …”
There was a soft but distinct thump - of a young man’s body bring shoved against a wall, not with any great gentleness. “Listen to me,” Essex hissed. “If I tell you to run, it’s because I need to be sure you’re not under my feet when I move. Because I don’t have time to be tangled up with you. I need you to run so I can do what I need to do to keep us both alive. If I have to argue with you, it’s likely to get me killed. Got it?”
After a moment, very grudgingly, Ingram answered, “Got it.”
“Good. Stay close. Let’s go.”