Chapter 1

Consciousness returned by degrees to Amanda. First and foremost was the pounding headache, starting behind her eyes and radiating all the way to the back of her skull. Taking deep, slow breaths, she opened her eyes to find herself surrounded in total darkness, a thick, inky blackness that did not dissipate no matter how many times she blinked. More slow, deep breaths helped remind her of her Agency training: check your condition, evaluate your surroundings.

Beyond the headache and blindness, she discovered she was lying in a fetal position on her right side, and her very bones seemed to ache as if she had the flu. She felt cold around her wrists, then heard the unmistakable clink of handcuffs. With difficulty, she gingerly pushed herself to a seated position, which did nothing to ease her symptoms nor the darkness which enveloped her. Touching her tongue to dry lips, she softly called, "Hello?" Then, more softly, "Lee?"

The ensuing silence seemed to swallow her voice, and it felt as overwhelming as her inability to see. Concentrate, Amanda. Use your other senses. Leaning down, she dragged the edge of her hands around the immediate vicinity of the surface on which she sat, which revealed that it was not an entirely smooth surface, perhaps particle board or subfloor. Carefully transitioning to her hands and knees, she leaned on her forearms, hands clasped in front of her, then gradually began to inch her way across the surface, concerned about any changes that might be ahead. It was difficult to gauge her progress; perceived movement seemed agonizingly slow, measured as it was by her exhales and the surprisingly comforting clinking of the cuffs in a climate of oppressive stillness.

Never before had she been a victim of such utter darkness.

Her almost mantra tic movement abruptly changed when her knuckles hit a vertical surface. Relief flooded through her as she ran her hands on it. Smoother than the floor, Amanda surmised that she was now next to a wall. Leaning her back against it brought her a small measure of relief. Somehow, being able to put her back against something gave her an illusion of security. Pulling her knees up against her chest also furthered that feeling. Other than her breathing and the occasional clink of the cuffs, there was no sound. The darkness felt as impenetrable as ever. She knew it was unbecoming of an agent, but found she could not choke back the sob that escaped her. What am I going to do?

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The first thing Amanda became aware of was the familiar denim smell of her jeans and gradually realized that she must have tipped forward on her knees and fallen asleep. Leaning back against the wall, she opened her eyes to find the darkness ever-present. A welcome change was her body aches had almost completely diminished. She was contemplating whether she should stand up to try to investigate her surroundings when she simultaneously heard a rustling and low moan. Any anxiety this might have produced immediately dispelled when she recognized the familiar, though strained, baritone muttering, "Amanda."

"Lee, Lee, are you awake?"

Several mumbles and moans followed along with a miraculous pinpoint of light before she heard him reply, "Amanda, is that really you?"

"Yes, it's me—oh, Lee," She couldn't help croaking with relief, "I'm so glad you're here."

The tiny light moved again. "What's going on? Where the hell are we?"

"Is that light coming from you?"

"Yeah, it's my watch. Why's it so damned dark?"

"I don't know. I woke here all achy on the floor. Are you cuffed, too?"

"Yeah, look, Amanda, let me find my way over to you. Keep talking—how'd this happen?"

"I wish I knew. As I said, I woke up achy, it was dark, and all I managed to do was find my way to a wall. I think I fell asleep for a while. I have no idea how long I've been here."

The tiny light bopping up and down stopped. "Uh, it's 11:32 p.m. Keep talking."

"It's not much, but that light makes me feel better. How'd you get here?"

"No clue." His voice indicating, he was not far away. "We left work at the same time, didn't we? Did you make it home?"

Amanda continued to follow the movement of light as she tried to think back. "This is weird."

"What is?" He grunted.

"I can't remember anything after we said goodbye in the parking lot. You?" She knew he was close, but couldn't help the squeal that issued forth when she felt him bump against her leg.

"Hey—there you are." She felt his fingers trailing along her leg and thigh until he was able to scoot up against her. His physical presence, as well as the cadence of his voice, calmed and soothed her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Sure wish you'd brought more light with you though."

"You and me both. Funny, I can tell this isn't my watch; don't know where this came from."

"What time is it now?"

"Damn, still 11:32. Amanda, I think the battery is dead, which means this light is probably going, too."

"So, we have no idea how long we've been here." She concluded as the tiny light flickered and disappeared.

"And, there goes our only light." Lee's aggravation was apparent.

"Now, what do we do?" She didn't need to see him; she could tell he'd switched to full agent mode.

"We don't know why or how we got here, and we're both handcuffed." He summarized, then, "What are you wearing?"

"Really? At a time like this? What do you care?"

"Might help us figure out what you were last doing." He reasoned.

Drawing her legs up to her knees again allowed her restricted arms to double-check her shoes. "I'm not sure what shirt I'm wearing, but from what I can feel, I think it's mine, something casual like I'd wear at home. I'm in jeans and tennis shoes."

"But you said you don't remember going home. You were wearing that shorter, tanned skirt at work."

"That's right." She was surprised he'd noticed. "You?"

"A collared shirt, jeans, and I think these are my favorite leather shoes." Then more sharply, "I don't have my holster or gun."

"The black ones I helped you pick out last fall?" She took his bump against her shoulder as an affirmative. "I don't remember you wearing jeans on Friday."

Lowering his voice to a whisper, "This place might be bugged, so let's keep our plans as quiet as possible. First thing, I'm getting this watch off."

A moment later, she heard the watch hit the floor somewhere ahead of them.

"Let's get us out of these cuffs," he continued quietly. "Can you get my lockpick from my collar?"

Amanda quickly found that her cuffs limited her mobility to reach higher than her chest. Finally, she whispered, "Put your head in my lap; I think I can get it."

As he scooted and shifted, she lifted her arms, but not quickly enough to keep her cuffs from hitting him.

"Hey," he protested, grabbing at her hands.

Head now cradled in her lap, Lee drew her hands down, and Amanda found the edge of his jaw, lightly tracing it with the tips of her fingers, gently traveling along his throat until feeling and releasing the device from his collar.

"Don't move," his voice came somewhat gravely as she felt his fingers fumbling slightly, then gently closing around hers, taking it from her. "Let's get yours off first."

Amanda nodded, then realizing he couldn't see her whispered, "Okay." More fumbling occurred, and then the sudden release of the extra weight around her wrists fell away. "Okay, your turn, sit up," she directed.

As he did, she felt the weight of her cuffs in her lap. Taking the pick from his left hand, she sought the opening and, with a few missteps, finally succeeded in freeing him. His hands engulfed hers as he whispered, "Great work, Partner, now let's figure out how to get out of this damned place."

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It's incredible how quickly senses begin to compensate when others are compromised, mused Amanda as she slowly and methodically ran her hands along the walls seeking an exit. She'd started this latest maneuver as part of Lee's whispered instruction about escaping their confined space. Between them, they'd been able to determine that the wall they'd been against was about ten feet wide. Based on Lee's height and reach, the ceiling was around fifteen feet high, which led them to believe that they were in a rectangular-shaped space. There were no apparent exits. Meeting up again at the opposite end of the room, Amanda joined Lee in his puzzlement and frustration.

"But we got into the room somehow," he reasoned, fumbling until he was able to clasp one of her hands. "It bothers me that neither of us can remember what got us here or how long we've been missing." He muttered. "Well, Partner, I'm open to suggestions."

The only response he received was a confirming squeeze of his fingers while she contemplated their condition. Reflecting on his first moments of consciousness, he'd been grateful for the tiny bit of light from that stupid watch. How terrified she must have been to wake up here alone in such cloaking darkness. Tightening his hand around hers, he knew beyond a doubt that her presence was the only thing keeping him focused and sane. The husky cadence of her voice and the comfort of her touch were further barriers against the crashing waves of his deep-seated terror of the dark.

"At least we're not cold." He was thinking of past experiences trapped in moldy basements, freezers, and of course, the Istanbul catacombs. While there wasn't an immediate verbal response, he knew she was working her way through something. He sensed it somehow in the tightening of her hand entirely around his own.

"There must be an outside air supply," she reasoned, then clarified, "I don't think we're in a basement or buried underground." There was no way to stop the shudder that coursed through him at that latter hypothesis, so Lee gladly focused on her first.

"Which means," her voice took on a firm and confident tone, "That there must be a vent or grate somewhere in here."

"When was the last time you rode on someone's shoulders, Amanda?" He had a sudden image of a miniature Amanda with a long ponytail boosted on a father's shoulders, which explained his shock when she countered, "Water volleyball during Spring Break when I was a Sophomore at UVA. Chad and I were a fantastic team."

The idea of any man touching her activated the protective streak that he'd always felt toward her. "No way," he drew her around behind him, "We're the best team ever. Hop on." As he crouched to his knees, he felt Amanda's hands trail down his back, then legs, thighs, and arms wrapped around him like a second skin.

"Hold on," he grunted, starting to rise, he grasped her hips to hoist her up to his shoulders, wrapping his arms around her legs to keep her in place. "Can you touch the ceiling?" He panted slightly at the exertion.

"Yes," she confirmed, "though just barely."

As little more at present than a means of transportation for Amanda, Lee's thoughts spun in a profusion of directions with everything coming back, in some way, to the woman on his shoulders. It was an intimate position. From the light, periodic bumping of her stomach against the back of his head to the tautness of her thighs, legs, and glutes, he found it easy to envision her as she'd described at Spring Break, with impossibly long, tan, shapely, bare legs; painted toes splashing in the water. His right hand ran lightly up and down her ankle, where he felt the cushiness of her sock as well as periodic contact with soft, warm skin. He became aware of her scent, which reminded him of the flowers she kept on her desk in the Q Bureau.

"What color bikini were you wearing?" He heard himself say.

"Hmm?" She was concentrating, "Oh…I think it had red, white, and blue stripes."

"A loyal patriot even then, eh?" He quipped but received nothing more than a tiny kick against his chest with the heel of her foot.

Then, "How'd you know it was a bikini?"

"Agent intuition." He patted the side of her leg smugly.

Lee added this vision to what had become a steadily growing awareness of Amanda King, the woman. He had never been immune to her beauty. From their first meeting, those expressive, almond-shaped eyes and her soft, chestnut hair captured his attention. Wearing it up accentuated a long, graceful neck. Her professional attire frequently showcased those fantastic legs and her tiny waist. Well-matched to his height, dancing with her was always a pleasure. Generally, a modest dresser, he could recall several evening gowns that molded themselves to her frame in ways not usually seen. His absolute favorite was still the gown she'd worn with him to the Russian Embassy on New Year's Eve. That image alone had kept him occupied for many nights.

Moreover, this beautiful woman was undoubtedly his best friend and partner. She was turning into a fabulous agent. Lately, he'd sensed that if he was brave enough to pursue it that a door might open for something beyond friend and partner. He'd taken some small steps in this direction with non-work dinners and an actual concert. Still, it was new territory for him, and he had no intention of treating Amanda King the way he'd treated previous relationships.

"Oh! I think I found something; hold still, please, Lee."

He was glad to hear the excitement in her voice, realizing that this had been missing since the moment he'd known she was with him in the darkness. From her description, it sounded like an ordinary grate, and when asked, she was able to confirm that it was wide enough for their bodies to pass through to the other side. Her disappointed moan warned him they weren't in the clear.

"It's screwed in all four sides, so I can't push it up." They tried using his lock pick to get some leverage to loosen the screws, but the pick was too small. "Wait, Lee, are you wearing a belt?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Take it off. It worked before, you know."

"Yeah, of course, I remember. Don't make any sudden moves, okay? I need one of my hands."

Amanda heard the distinct sounds of a belt being unsnapped and yanked through pant loops. Tapping her right leg, she stretched her same arm down into the darkness to make contact.

"Don't take all of them out. See if you can remove two so that the grate will dropdown. We need all the leverage we can to get out of here."

Moments later, she again admitted defeat.

"The tine's too big?" He guessed.

"Uh-huh." She blew out an exasperated breath, then, "I can try mine…forgot I was wearing one." Amanda gently handed down Lee's belt and held still until he put it back on. She released hers, careful not to flap it down against him. Soon, her crow of delight indicated success.

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It had been hard enough to concentrate positioned as she was on his broad shoulders, but the slight stroking of his hand against her leg that he seemed utterly unconscious of doing unnerved her to her very core. "I need a little boost somehow to get out, Lee."

"No offense," he muttered as she suddenly felt his hands slide up around her hips to her glutes, hoisting her the couple precious inches she needed to crawl over the lip of the opening. Her silence as she maneuvered herself to a seated position seemed interminable when to his relief, the timbre of her voice rang with joy, "I can see windows and daylight's coming through them!"

She quietly began to describe what she was seeing. Most surprising was the actual ability to see anything at all. She'd had to blink several times to convince herself of the reality. Daylight was coming from each end of an enormous room through sets of windows positioned high on sets of mechanized doors that could easily open to double semi-trucks. Beyond the immediacy of the windows, much of the vast building was in shadow. It appeared to be a warehouse. Spaced out at intervals throughout the building were rectangular structures that seemed similar to their own. She counted ten. Before Lee could comment, she added, "It's so still. I don't think anyone else is here."

He'd been attempting to hoist himself up by the grate, but his efforts proved futile. "Amanda," he finally admitted, "Any chance there's a rope or portable ladder up there?"

"Not here. I'll need to check around."

"Wait-Amanda!" He knew he sounded frantic. Get a grip, Stetson. In his best agent voice, "For God's sake, be careful and don't go too far."

Silence as thick as the darkness followed and then, so softly he almost didn't hear her, "I'm not leaving you down there, Lee."

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Ears strained to follow her movements. It sounded like she was slowly walking across the top of their enclosure. Lee's deep-seated panic began to build when he could no longer hear her. Despite the repetition of his mantra, all manner of horrible thoughts flashed through his consciousness, most of them about Amanda. He started pacing, feeling very much like the caged animal he was. The pacing and mantra eventually helped him formulate another plan. Immersed in the details, he practically jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice.

He knew before she finished her narration that her hunt had been unsuccessful, but his partner surprised him with her Plan B.

Her idea was to use their belts as pulleys against the hanging grate. Lee's belt was longer, and he was able to attach it to the grate's grill securely enough, but Amanda didn't have the upper body strength, even hooking her belt to the other side of it to get the leverage to pull him up. Defeated from their exertions and breathing hard, Lee panted the very words she dreaded, "You'll have to switch places with me."

Sensing how much she hated to retrench, he sympathized, "I know, I know." He was impatient though to try his idea. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course, I do." She immediately responded.

"Then come back down here. I think my plan will work."

Getting Amanda safely down was the priority. Following his instruction, she sat on the edge of the opening, as close to the hanging grate as possible. Then rolled over to her stomach and inched her way down until her legs dangled enough for Lee to catch her essentially free-falling into the enclosure. It was a lot like that childhood game she'd played; to let yourself fall backward and hope the person behind you was honest about promising to catch you. Trusting Lee was never the problem, but falling into nothingness was something altogether different. When she felt his strong hands around her ankles, she let go, sliding roughly down the length of his body like a clunky fireman's pole. Smashed against one another, she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him fiercely.

"Well done, Amanda." He pulled her even closer, both staying that way until their heartbeats grew steadier and their breathing relaxed. "Now, let's get out of this hell hole."

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He was positive that if he could see her face, that she'd be giving him one of her patented rolled-eyed expressions regarding something she completely disagreed about; her voice confirmed that suspicion.

"Let me get this straight. You essentially want to use me as a step-stool and expect that I've got the strength to help rocket-launch you up to the opening."

"That's the idea," he blustered, offering an olive branch, "then we use your idea with our belts, except I'll be on the outside and can pull you out."

"I may have done lifts as a cheerleader, Lee, but those girls weighed a lot less than you!"

Fumbling in the darkness until he found both of her hands, he grasped them tightly, then added, "What would you do if Jamie got pinned underneath a car?"

"I'd do whatever I could get whatever help was around, to get that car off him. You know that."

"I do, but what if there was no one but you, what then?"

She paused and then grimly, "I'd move heaven and earth to get it off him."

"That is exactly how you need to think of this. Keep that image in your head." As close as they were, she suddenly felt his forehead against hers. "You're a brave and strong woman, Amanda. I know you can do it. Please, give it a try."

How she ever did it would remain a mystery, and this after four failed attempts. Grumpy, exasperated, and sore from the unexpected weight of a full-sized man standing on her back, she wanted to pummel him when he coaxed, "One more time." Then, just as she felt the sensation of movement, she jumped from kneeling to standing, roaring in a way that reminded her very much of giving birth.

"Oof! Damn, that hurt!" She thought she heard him say, but her breaths came so loud, and her heart was pounding so hard that she had difficulty focusing and found herself curled in a fetal position trying to regain her equilibrium. "Amanda, you okay?" He was panting, too.

"Yeah, I need to...catch my breath. Just a minute."

"I scraped the hell out of one hand and whacked my face, but otherwise, I think I'm okay." Then, "I get what you mean about being able to see again."

True to his word, it was relatively easy for Lee to pull her out of the enclosure. Retrieving their belts, they leaned wearily against the other. While they rested, Lee asked Amanda to describe everything she'd observed when trying to find something to help him out. She hadn't ventured far. Even with the light from the windows, the room was still quite dark, though thankfully not like the tomb-like enclosure that they'd just escaped. He thought that the rectangles in the room looked very much like modified railroad cars, lacking visible wheels and a typical entrance. There was something about the shape of the warehouse that set Lee on edge, knowledge hovering near his consciousness.

"Maybe it's the silence." She suggested, "Ya know, it's like when the power goes out at home, and everything is quiet. Maybe there's no electricity."

"All the more reason then to get down from this thing and see if we can find a solution before it gets dark." Following Amanda's prior knowledge, they carefully crawled across the roof of the railroad car until meeting the ladder at its end, which took them to the floor.