Page 6 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

“There’s plenty of air in here. Just relax.”

He rubbed her arms, his gentle touch distracting her.

“Why did they put us in here?” Of all the miserable places to get stuck in, this was the last one she would have chosen.

“I don’t know. Maybe to keep us handy.”

“For what?”

“Nothing good.”

Silence stretched out with the bony fingers of a long dead corpse, reaching for her, closing around her neck, stealing her breath. She whimpered.

“I can’t stay in here, Peter. I’ll go nuts.”

He sighed. “Then we have to get out.”

He released her, and she felt his body twisting like he was reaching for something above her head. He was so close his breath ruffled her hair. He brushed past her and was suddenly gone.

“What are you doing? Where are you going?”

“Trying to find another way out of here.” A second later. “Ah ha.”

“What?”

“A ventilation duct, I think. It’s got a grill in front of it.”

Georgia reached up and he pulled her onto the crates. She crawled on hands and knees, following him, until he took her hand and placed it on the wall. She stood and felt along the wall near the ceiling, her arms bumping his. There was a grill all right, but not a big one.

“I can’t go in there, it’s too small.”

“It’s this or stay here. Take your pick.”

Georgia bowed her head. Either choice was bad. The thought of slithering through that narrow shaft, with walls touching on all sides, made her nauseous, but the thought of staying in here was even worse.

“Ok, let’s try it.”

“I’ve got to get the screws out of this grill first.”

Georgia groaned. “How are you going to do that?”

She heard a soft clinking.

“The flat end of my watch strap buckle might work as a screwdriver.”

An overwhelming sense of impending doom washed over her. This was too much. So far today she’d witnessed several murders, been roughed up by terrorists, and was now trapped in a packed storage room with a guy who thought he was MacGyver.

Maybe it was just a nightmare?

* * *

Peter swore as hishand slipped, catching the sharp edge of grill. He could hear Georgia’s rapid breathing next to him and concentrated on getting the screws out. It was just his luck to get stuck in this damn coffin with a claustrophobic woman. Given the current situation, this kind of baggage was just what he didn’t need. Dammit, the last woman who’d depended on him in a life or death situation had ended up dead.

The last screw fell into his hand and he pulled the grill off, curving around Georgia so he could lay it on the crates.

“Ladies first.”

“Where does it go?” She sounded out of breath.

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