Lethal Exposure. Elisabeth Rees

she asked, looking at his face lit up by the glow from his cell phone. “I think we’re in trouble here.”

      He put his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her face. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Rebecca,” he said solemnly. “I promise.”

      As if to mock his words, the elevator began to shudder again, falling a couple of feet with two quick jumps. Rebecca’s knees hit the floor as she felt her stomach dropping away with the sudden movement. She reached up to take Jack’s hand, and he pushed her down to the floor.

      “Stay down,” he said. “It’s safer.”

      Rebecca knelt on the floor and assumed the most natural position—one of prayer. She closed her eyes and asked God to deliver them from the danger that had sought them out. She had prayed hundreds of times while on photography assignments, surrounded by war and destruction, and the Lord had never failed her. She just needed to put her faith in Him. Within moments, the elevator had settled into a stable position, with no hint of movement. Rebecca strained her ears for the toe-curling sound of metal grinding against metal, but it appeared to have abated. She looked up at Jack, who had placed his cell phone on the floor and was attempting to pry open the doors with his fingertips. His biceps flexed with the powerful effort. When the doors eventually slowly opened, he was faced with a bare brick wall.

      Jack looked at the ceiling. “I can climb out onto the roof and see how far from the next floor we are. We may be able to climb up.”

      Rebecca looked down at her bandaged hand. Even though the injury was slight, the strength in her left hand was decreased. She didn’t know if she was capable of climbing through wires and cables in a dangerous elevator shaft.

      A muffled voice in the darkness provided a beacon of hope. “Hello. Is anyone in there?”

      “Yes,” Jack called. “There are two people in here. Can you help us out?”

      “Stay where you are,” the voice called back. “I’ll activate the emergency override and manually wind you down, but be patient, because it’s mighty slow.”

      Rebecca then recognized the voice as Hal, the building security guard. “Thank you, Hal,” she shouted, jumping to her feet. She quickly added in a murmur, “And thank You, God, for sending him.”

      As the elevator began its sluggish, shuddering descent to the ground, Jack held Rebecca close in his arms. When the motion became a little smoother, she pushed against his torso and placed herself to his side, holding on to a rail on the wall for balance. He mirrored her stance, remaining by her side in the darkness until the familiar sight of the white foyer came into view.

      Rebecca felt as though she was emerging from a cave. They had been trapped inside for only around fifteen minutes, but their eyes had obviously adjusted to the darkness. They both instinctively used their hands as shields against the glare of the sun.

      Hal took her arm as she stepped out onto the polished marble floor. “I’ve never seen an incident like this before,” he said. “It’s the strangest thing.” He took off his cap to scratch his bald head. “Hope you two aren’t too shaken up.”

      “We’re fine. Thanks, Hal,” Rebecca said with a voice that was as calm as she could manage. “Please make sure you stop anyone else from using this elevator until it’s been thoroughly checked and repaired.”

      “Of course, Mrs. Grey,” Hal replied. “I’ll speak to Mr. Orwell right away.”

      The mention of Simon’s name seemed to spur Jack’s resolve to make a speedy exit from the building. “Let’s get outta here,” he said. “Before anything else happens.”

      “You’ll get no argument from me,” she said, heading for the revolving door.

      When they stepped out into the crisp air, Rebecca’s body gave a shiver. It wasn’t just the February day that caused her chills. She was shaken up by the thought that somebody was tracking them, putting their lives in danger, possibly trying to silence her forever. Jack took off his jacket and laid it over her shoulders, rubbing her arms to keep them warm.

      “Stay here while I bring the car around,” he said. “You should keep out of sight.”

      She nodded, glancing back to see Hal behind the front desk talking into the telephone, no doubt informing Simon that the elevator had suffered a serious malfunction, trapping the paper’s lead photographer inside. But would Simon be surprised? She found herself questioning whether Jack’s distrust of her editor was justified after all.

      Then she caught sight of Jack’s yellow car in the corner of the lot. She reached into his jacket pocket and found the Porsche keys nestled inside.

      “Hey, Jack,” she called after him. “Why don’t you drive your car, and I’ll drive mine?”

      He spun around, and his eyes locked on the car keys in her hand. She put her thumb on the black fob that activated the unlock mechanism on the doors. Jack broke into a run and shouted, “No! Somebody might have been here while we were inside!” but it was too late. She had already pressed the button.

      In the next moment, she saw a flash of yellow bounce before her eyes as the car skyrocketed into the air on a ball of flames. The shock wave took her clean off her feet, and Jack’s arms wrapped themselves around her while she was in the air. The last thing she felt was his body go limp as they both fell hard to the ground.