The shifter looked over his shoulder. Surprise flitted through the familiar hazel eyes, and then he dove into the nearest elevator.
She cursed and ran for the doors. They shut a whisper too soon. She punched the call button and watched the floor indicator. The shifter was heading to the lower levels — probably to Gabriel's office.
A second elevator appeared. She punched the floor number and paced the confines of the elevator as it began its descent.
Why would a shifter come in here imitating Gabriel? What would Gabriel have that would be important enough for someone to take such a risk? Truth was, she didn't know. At no time in the last month had he brought her into his confidence — the only case she'd really been involved with was the rejects.
She stopped. It wasn't just any shifter. It was Rose. Here to get the location list of the remaining rejects. The woman had to be stark raving mad to take such a risk.
And yet, she'd made it past security without a hassle. Might even have gotten past her, had it not been for her weird ability to pick out certain races.
The elevator stopped. She squeezed through the doors before they'd fully opened, and ran into the foyer. The shifter was halfway down the hall, heading for Gabriel's office.
"A.D. Stern, please stop right there."
The shifter turned and fired. She dove to her left. Laser fire sizzled down her right leg, and she yelped. The smell of burning material mingled with stench of crisped flesh. Her flesh. The bitch had the laser set on full.
Ignoring the deep-set throbbing in her leg, she rolled to her feet and squeezed off several shots. The shifter ducked into the nearby hall, firing as she moved. The shots hit the wall inches above Sam's head.
Sam scrambled forward as a strident alarm shattered the silence. Footsteps pounded towards them. The shifter appeared, gun aimed. Sam dove to one side. A blue-white beam sizzled half an inch from her stomach, striking the wall behind her. Metal fragments zinged into the air, mini bullets that sliced past her hands and face.
She rose on one knee and fired again. Again the shot missed the fleeing shifter. She cursed. Security appeared from the hall to her left, weapons raised.
"That's not A.D. Stern," she said, pointing to the fleeing shifter. "Take her out immediately."
"Agent Ryan, please put down the weapon."
"For Christ's sake, didn't you hear what I said? That is not A.D. Stern. Stop him immediately."
Footsteps echoed in the silence. The shifter, running away. And the morons in security uniforms were letting her go. She swore and rose.
"Put down your weapon," the security officer repeated, "or I'll be forced to shoot."
There was no understanding in the security officer's dour features. No realization of the evil he was letting loose. All he saw was an agent firing at a superior officer. She had no doubt he'd shoot if she fired her gun again.
She dove for the hall anyway. As she hit the ground, she sighted on the fleeing form, and fired. The shifter jerked, her squawk decidedly unmanly as she stumbled into the wall. Then laser fire burned into Sam's body and she knew no more.
* * * *
Gabriel paced the confines of his prison for the umpteenth time. There had to be some way out of this box. Had to be. He couldn't let Rose get into the system and find the new addresses for the adoptees. She had to be stopped.He had no doubt that she would get into his office. The SIU, for all its security, hadn't really considered the problem of multishifters taking the form of their operatives. His only real hope lay with Sam and her odd ability to sense the evil in people.
Only he'd pissed her off so severely lately that she was likely to avoid him anyway. Especially given his lack of reaction to her none-too-subtle seduction attempt.
He punched the wall in frustration. It buckled under the force of his blow. Hope stirred, and he leaned forward for a closer look. Several of the rivets were missing in the strips holding the metal sheeting in place. Daylight gleamed through the small gaps.
This section of the refrigerator must have been built on top of existing walls — walls that had once been plasterboard. Over the years of abandonment, the plaster must have disintegrated, leaving only the insulation and the metal sheeting of the refrigerator itself.
This was his escape. He stepped back a pace, then booted the wall. The pinpricks of daylight became brighter. He kicked it again. A fist sized gap appeared along the left-hand side.
But as he raised his leg for a third try, pain hit him, flashing fire down his leg. He grunted and dropped to his knees, clutching his thigh and trying to regain his breath.
Fire hit again, this time his shoulder and side. Agony seared his brain, burned through his body. Then it was gone, leaving him shuddering and gasping for breath for far too long.
Sam had been hit. How or why he didn't know, but she was hurt, and badly. He had to get out of this damn prison.
He climbed slowly to his feet. The wall gave away after half a dozen more kicks, peeling back like dented butter. The room beyond was small and dust laden. The two small windows to his right were barred, though the glass had long gone. Not even his hawk form would get through the bars.
He climbed through the wall and walked to the door. It was locked. He stepped back and kicked it. The lock broke after the fourth boot, and the door slammed open. The hallway beyond lay wrapped in dusk. Light filtered in from the strip of glass high above, and dust, stirred by the door opening, danced lazily in the sunbeams.