"Let me out now," Laurie yelled back.

"I've called security. They are on their way" Walter yelled, but his comment only resulted in another horrendous crash from within the storeroom. Giving up, he set his mind to clean up the airborne infection powder.

ADAM WAS PARKED on the playground side of the street just opposite Laurie Montgomery's house. He'd gotten there slightly earlier than he'd planned to give himself an extra cushion of time, but something had obviously gone awry. Although a few people had exited the building, neither Laurie nor her boyfriend had shown their faces.

Just when Adam was about to admit he'd have to return in the morning, his phone buzzed against his leg. It was one of his handlers in Washington.

"Where are you?" the man demanded.

"One hundred sixth Street on the Upper West Side."

"Get over to the Angels Orthopedic Hospital. The target is locked in a closet in a fourth-floor engineering space. An operative of ours is there. His name is Walter Osgood. Miss Montgomery must be extracted ASAP and then dealt with accordingly It should be a challenge, but we trust you are up to it."

Adam quickly hung up and started his vehicle. He then switched on the Beethoven and turned up the volume.

IN THE DARKNESS, Laurie was becoming desperate. She'd always been somewhat claustrophobic, and being locked in the way she was had awakened her childhood fears. The only sliver of light was found beneath the stout door, and she'd been unable to locate a light switch. After the first few minutes of pounding on the door and yelling in hopes of being heard by someone other than Walter Osgood, she'd groped about in the utter blackness. The storeroom was about ten by twenty feet, with shelving on both sides. It was in the very back that she'd found the sizable metal containers whose tops were secured like paint cans. She had no idea what they contained and thought they may well have been paint. By rolling one forward, she'd used it to heave repeatedly against the door. It had had no perceivable effect despite its weight, and she had to be careful in the darkness that it didn't bounce off the door and injure her.

For a moment, she did nothing except try to listen. It had been some time since she'd heard Walter moving about in the outer room. Unable to hear anything and finding that standing in the darkness was more harrowing than trying to avoid hitting herself with the multi-gallon container, she went back to heaving it at the door. On her second try, she heard a deeper sound as the can struck the door and a softer one when it hit the floor. Laurie guessed that the top had come off and the contents spilled.

Bending down, Laurie gingerly patted the floor as she moved her hand forward. There was no smell of paint, so Laurie assumed it had to be something else. All at once, she encountered a fine powder with her fingers. Slowly, she moved her fingers toward her face, warily sniffing the closer she came. It wasn't until her fingers were close to her face that she smelled anything, and even then she wasn't sure what it was. She guessed it was a type of cleaning product.

Laurie righted the container. It still contained about half of its contents. She pushed it to the side so as not to stumble on it. Then she was about to get another one when she heard sounds coming from out in the other room. It sounded as if it were a door closing.

Hoping it was someone other than Walter, Laurie began rattling the doorknob with one hand and pounding on the door with the other, all the while yelling "Help" over and over. Within the confines of the storeroom, her yells were almost painfully loud, but she imagined they weren't so in the other room. Everything was so insulated.

Laurie stopped her clamor. No one had come to her rescue. She heard muttering voices. Obviously, someone had joined Walter and hadn't rushed to her aid. It wasn't hard for her to imagine that whoever it was was in league with Walter, probably coming to get her out of the hospital. Panicking, Laurie tried to think of what she could do. She'd not even been able to defend herself from one man, much less two. Suddenly, she thought of the fine powder. It certainly wouldn't hold them off for long, but may be enough to get a step on them. Maybe she could get out into the corridor, where yelling and screaming could bring someone… anyone.

Moving up to the door, Laurie felt around for the open container. Reaching in with her two hands, she scooped up as much of the powder as she could. Then, stepping forward, she pressed herself against the wall on the side of the door that opened. It was none too soon, as the door was suddenly unlocked and thrown completely ajar. For a second nothing happened, and then a head cautiously came in along with what could have been a gun. Laurie threw the powder into the face, then rolled around into the doorway and pushed the man backward.

Without waiting for an instant, Laurie took off running. She saw Walter grab the man who had his free hand slapped over his eyes.

The ruse had caught both unawares and had been more effective than Laurie had even hoped. The problem was that she'd not been able to run toward the door to the corridor but rather toward the far door that Laurie had been told led to a second HVAC room. More important for her at the moment was that she'd also been told it too had an exit leading to a back stairway.

Although the powder had provided Laurie with the opportunity to run, it was not caustic enough to hold Adam down for long. Laurie had just managed to get through the adjoining door when Adam got his sight more or less back to normal, and he was able to pursue, although he was still coughing to a degree.

When Adam dashed into the second HVAC room, he had to come to a full stop. For a second, he did not see Laurie. Rapidly, his eyes scanned the high-ceilinged room with its tangle of ducting. He didn't see Laurie, but he did see the room's second door settling into its jamb.

There were large service elevators, but Laurie ignored them. Going through yet another door that Laurie sensed was locked in the other direction, she plunged down the stairs, which had two runs per floor. Originally, she was going to run back into the hospital on the OR floor below and make a large ruckus, but she had to ditch that idea with the fear of the door being locked from the stairwell side. Instead, Laurie continued down. Behind her, she heard Adam burst out through the door on the fourth floor.

Reaching the ground floor, Laurie exited out to the deserted receiving dock. To her right was the parking garage, to the left the ramp leading up to Fifth Avenue. Without a second's hesitation, Laurie ran to the left. At least she was confident the avenue would be filled with moving traffic.

Halfway up the ramp and despite her heavy breathing, she heard behind her the exit door bang open against the side of the building. At this point of full-fledged, headlong sprinting, her muscles were complaining in agony and each breath gave her a searing sensation in her chest.

Laurie got to the street. To her left almost a half a block away was the liveried doorman. At the moment, the sidewalk was devoid of activity. The street was a different story. As she'd expected, it was all but clotted with traffic moving at a slow pace. For lack of any other alternative, Laurie ran directly out into the middle of the one-way multi-laned avenue, causing several cars to brake precipitously before drivers angrily drove on. With both hands waving, Laurie tried to get a car, a taxi, a bus, anything to stop. When she saw Adam sprinting in the middle of the street, she started to run north against the traffic while still waving her hands and pleading for someone to stop.

"IT'S HER, for chrissake!" Angelo yelled the moment he'd seen Laurie appear, dashing from the hospital's parking ramp. He was out of the van in an instant. He and Richie had parked their respective vans just south of the ramp entrance at the north end of the hospital. Since the traffic went north to south, they'd decided it was the best place to be when Laurie came out the front entrance, which was what they had expected.