The Serpent's Kiss

45

When Jill Church pulled the plug on the printer nothing happened. Derek, laying on the floor, arms over his head, looked up. “Agent Church, you’re getting reckless.”

Jill breathed a sigh of relief and held out her hand, which shook slightly. “You’re wearing off on me. Now what?”

“Dismantle these gas canisters and get into this desk. And I’d like to get into this computer.”

Jill nodded. Moisture dampened her forehead. She wiped her brow with her sleeve and said, “What can I do to help?”

Derek rolled over on his back, placed his tools on his chest and held his hand out for the flashlight, which Jill gave him. In exchange, he handed her the atropine injector. “Familiarize yourself with this thing. Just in case.”

Laying on his back, Derek studied the switch to the gas canisters. It seemed straightforward. In fact, he thought, it seemed too straightforward. If you pulled the wire, it triggered a switch that opened the regulator on the canisters. There didn’t seem to be anything more complicated than that to it. The canisters had been attached to the desk with a metal bracket screwed to the wood.

“Can you lean over the desk and look behind it?” he asked. “Without putting any weight on the desk?”

Jill gingerly did as he asked.

“What do you see?”

“An extension cord and dust. What am I looking for?”

“Something that might trigger the device or some other booby-trap if I take this damned thing off the desk.”

“I don’t see anything like that.”

“Okay. I’m cutting the wire. You read the directions on the atropine injector yet?”

“Just cut it,” Jill said.

He cut the wire. The wire sagged and nothing hissed or exploded. Derek, who had been holding his breath, let it out in a rush. “You dead?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. Okay. I’m going to unscrew this thing and hand it out to you.”

In his tool kit Derek had a small battery-powered screwdriver. He adjusted the bit, then cautiously unscrewed the bracket. When the screws were about halfway out he said, “Problem.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to drop this thing. You’re going to have to climb in here with me and hold it while I do the, uh, screwing. It’s going to be, um, cozy.”

Jill maneuvered to the floor and slithered in next to Derek. It was more than cozy.

Derek grinned. “If we die like this we’ll never live it down.”

“Shut up.”

“Watch the knee.”

“Just start screwing.”

Silence.

“Don’t. Say. A. Word.”

Derek reached up and completed unscrewing the bracket. Jill slowly pulled the canister away. Derek, lying on his back, was nose to nose with her, pressed against her, toes to chin.

“It’s not just a job,” he said. “It’s an adventure.”

“Shut the fuck up. Hold this.” Jill handed him the canister. Once he had it in his hands, she slipped back out of the foot well, reached in and took it from him.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Take that thing out of here.”

“Don’t do anything while I’m gone.”

“No problem,” he said. “The next thing we have to do is open the drawers. I’m going to spend the time you’re gone asking for forgiveness for my sins.”

Jill hefted the canister and picked up the diskette case. “I’m sure I won’t be gone nearly long enough, then.”