RUNNING ON FUMES

by

PiperMerlyn

Chapter 1

The Chapters

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

Joe
 

This was not good.

The smell of smoke was getting stronger. We had to get out of here. For a moment, I wished desperately for some way to bend my arms even further to get to the pocketknife in my jeans pocket. Thank goodness those idiots didn’t search us.

“Joe,” Frank said, his voice hoarse and his gaze locked on the single computer in the ritzy law office.

“I’m working on it,” I muttered, trying to stretch my arm even more. Finally my almost-numb fingers brushed my pocket and I got the knife. Now the really hard part, clicking it open without slicing myself or my brother.

We were on what had seemed a simple ATAC assignment. Frank was an intern at a law office here in town, I was the intern’s annoying baby brother. Why I get stuck in that role, I have no idea.

A year ago, Nelson Torrey had passed away and handed his prestigious law firm to his only son and heir, Andrew. In less than six months, Andrew had money coming out the wazoo. He claimed it was an inheritance and whatever, but Dad doubted it and brought it to the attention of ATAC, or rather the agency ATAC works with.

Interestingly enough, in the last year several people who had entered the Witness Relocation Program had died under suspicious circumstances. Then it came out that the elder Mr. Torrey had a hand in helping those witnesses relocate.

I felt the knife blade scrape my arm and I winced, just as I felt the ropes tying us to the chairs fall away. Frank shot out of his chair, not for the nearest door but for the computer.

I coughed and pocketed the knife, relieved to see I hadn’t cut myself. “Frank, come on.”

“He stored those names on the computer. The names of the other witnesses, Joe. If I get those names we can stop them from being killed.”

I didn’t quite sigh. Wouldn’t have been too smart to take a deep breath in here anyway. I looked around the office for a way to get out. We’d heard the two goons who’d gotten the drop on us stuff a chair under the door after they locked it.

I shook my head. Talk about overkill. The office was once the upstairs parlor of the Victorian house that had been renovated to be used by the law firm. If I remembered correctly, there was nothing under that window except the concrete parking lot. Not a soft landing.

I grabbed one of the chairs we’d been tied to as I saw Frank settle in behind the computer, his fingers flying on the keyboard. “Hurry, Frank.”

I started to throw the chair at the window but wondered if that was a good idea. The window was original to the house, small curvy glass panes separated by wooden strips. It would be one thing to shatter the glass but the wood might not break so easy.

I adjusted my hold on the chair and slammed it against the window instead. I could feel the impact all the way up my arm bones to my shoulders.

The old wood cracked and splintered as the glass shattered. “Frank, we have an escape hatch.”

“This firewall is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Elegant,” he said, staring at the computer screen.

I groaned. “I’m more worried about the firewall on the other side of that door.”

“I gotta get through it. I have to get those names.”

I understood, I really did, although Frank has really bad timing when he gets all caught up in computer-speak. I shook my head and used the chair to bash more of the wood and glass out of our way. I leaned out and frowned, not just because of the view. Hmm, no sirens. Considering we weren’t outside the city limits, why hadn’t anyone noticed the place was on fire?

I leaned further out and noticed that there wasn’t any smoke coming from anywhere around the house. I narrowed my eyes and turned to stare at the door. In the original house plan the parlor was connected to a sitting room which was closer to the stairs leading down. The second floor was a copy of the first and I’d come several times with Frank to check the place out.

The first floor had kept the original kitchen and dining area while the parlor and sitting room had become the intern’s office and file room. Andrew Torrey had claimed this office for his – it had been his father’s – the sitting room had been for his secretary. Considering how the house was laid out, a fire in the secretary’s office could effectively keep us here until we died of smoke inhalation. Whether the fire would smolder or burn itself out, I didn’t know but it just hit me that I opened a window, letting in oxygen. I had a bad feeling that I’d just made things worse.

I looked closer and could see a flame here and there, at the bottom of the closed door. “Uh, Frank...”

“I’m through!” shouted Frank as he finally tore his gaze from the computer. I saw his eyes widen as he noticed the door. “Just got to copy the names.” He hit a few keys and the file started to download to a CD.

“File’s done,” announced the computer finally as more flames started crawling up the wooden door.

A second later Frank had the CD in his hand. He joined me at the window and leaned out. “I don’t hear sirens.”

“No ladder rescue today. We’ll have to jump.”

Frank shook his head. “Are you crazy? We’ll break something.”

I grunted. “Fine. You have a choice. Broken leg or dead.”

He glared at me. “You have such a way with words.”

“Hey, I gave you a choice.” I climbed up onto the sill and glanced down. We were only two stories up but that concrete looked very unforgiving.

“Jumping like that will break something.” Frank grabbed some pillows off a plush plum-colored sofa and set them on the sill. “Now sit and turn around, so you can climb out slowly. That would only leave a few feet to jump.

I nodded and soon found myself hanging onto the outer sill with my hands. I pushed away from the wall and jumped. My feet slapped the concrete and I felt the concussive shock all the way to my head. I landed hard on my rear and grunted. “Ouch.”

Frank tossed me the CD in its protective sleeve and jumped like I did. “Come on, we can’t be found here.”

I sat there for a moment and looked up at him. “Slave driver. I think I shattered every little bone in my feet.”

“Joe, come on. We have to get this to Dad pronto.”

I pushed myself to my feet, looked down at the CD and handed it to him. “Here. You take it. I don’t want to be responsible for that many lives.”

Frank rolled his eyes and we took off to where we’d parked the van. I spared one last look at the old Victorian house and sighed. Mission accomplished.

*****

We made it back home in record time. Dad’s car was in the driveway, so we hoped we could get to his office before we were waylaid. We didn’t see either Aunt Gertrude or Mom, so we ducked into Dad’s office before we got caught.

“....understand. Yes, I—“ My dad stopped talking and we turned around, feeling guilty we’d stepped into a private meeting. But I saw he was on the phone. Frank waved the disk at him and our dad grinned. “Yes, we have it.”

He talked a few minutes longer and hung up. “Good job.” He narrowed his eyes and sniffed. “Why do I smell smoke?”

I shared a look with Frank and we both sat down, after Frank handed the disk to Dad. I cleared my throat. “Things got a little...hot.”

Frank bopped me on the arm.  He never appreciates my sense of humor. He told Dad what had happened and I could see that Dad wasn’t happy. He muttered under his breath a few minutes and shook his head. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

I sat up straighter in my chair. “Dad, no. It’s good. We’re fine.”

Dad stared down at his desk. “It only takes one time for it to be a disaster. Last time...”

“Dad, we survived that assignment,” said Frank in a low voice. “We survived this one. We’re okay.”

“And how could I explain to your mother if something did happen?” Dad’s tone of voice sounded more like he was talking to himself, not us.

I leaned forward. “Dad...”

He looked over at me and then at Frank. “Maybe it should be disbanded. Although the idea in principle is sound, in reality it’s dangerous.

I shook my head. I knew what he was talking about. ATAC – American Teens Against Crime – was top secret. It had to be. Teenagers can get into certain places and situations adults can’t, no questions asked. If everyone knew there were teen crime fighters around, that wouldn’t be true anymore.

Dad had first come up with the idea when he saw how well we could get into certain situations. You would not believe how easy it is to not be noticed by adults simply because they don’t think teenagers or kids have a real thought in their heads at any given time. Trust me, we’re not all airheads.

I do know that Dad has a lot of pull with the powers that be that run ATAC but he’s technically not the boss. I’ve often wondered, with the whole Mission:Impossible-style of briefing us, that it might be some super-secret government agency. Frank thinks that’s a crazy idea.

Dad stared at the desk for a minute and then got to his feet. He headed for the door. I shot Frank a look and got up. “Dad?”

“I have to talk with your mother. You two had better shower and change. That smoke smell is pretty strong.”

He left his office and I turned back to Frank who was slowly getting to his feet. “Frank, if he tells Mom...we’ll never have another assignment again.”

Frank closed his eyes a minute and groaned. “Maybe we can play it down, make it more like the cases we got into before.”

I felt a chill race down my spine. “Aunt Gertrude...”

Frank actually went pale. “He wouldn't." 

I nodded, feeling a little weak myself. "We'll never hear the end of it."

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