Having Stevens at most three inches behind her had made her break out in cold sweat at first. But now it didn't seem so bad. However, her senses had intensified at his nearness. His size in contrast to hers and his warm masculine scent would have been all she focused on—if the tension around her wasn't so tangible. After setting up the last trap, Chris heard the low rumble of a generator. She'd tensed up—but not like the man behind her. She couldn't help but notice his heavier breathing. The temptation to give a glance behind her was fought with her determination to make it to the end of this tunnel in less than fifteen minutes.

Her spirits soared, seeing the "infamous" solid wood door up ahead. He bumped into her, knocking her out of her reverie. She reached behind her, grabbing the front of his jacket, semi-pushing him away. The way his warm but clammy hands gripped her shoulders had startled her—as though some of his inner thoughts had coursed through his fingers into her. Something was wrong. "You okay?" she dared to ask.

She received no answer.

.........................................................

Michael watched the silvery moon lighting up the sky along with a sprinkling of stars here and there—then he gave his attention back to his computer screen, being the work-addict he'd turned into. It seemed Stevens had not neglected to attach his tracker today. Those two green dots on the grid were as plain as day. Faithful Hopper never forgot her tracker. He smiled to himself. How in the world had she coped with the "Man of Steel" today? She was running into him so much. At that moment, the two neon green dots had formed a figure eight filled in. Why the two were so close for over ten minutes? He had no idea—which made him nervous. Having access to GPS satellites, he'd pinpointed where Hopper spent most of her time—on the Greenwood estate. That was where she was, but she seemed to be underground—with Stevens.

He had to wonder what she was doing there. She had not contacted Smith ever since she set foot in the country. To his own personal dismay, she hadn't used any of his gadgets either. If it had been Levi Stevens who had done that, he'd come to the conclusion that he thought he was too good of a shot to use them—but Christina Hopper wasn't like that. He remembered how she'd squeezed the life out of him while thanking him over and over for the "gifts." So he came to two conclusions; either she had not found an opportunity to use them, or she was never in the right place to use them.

But for whatever reason she was more than six feet under—but not dead, he'd wish the best for her.

Just then, he heard a knock on his office door. Who else was still around at this time except the janitors? The door opened without his consent. The dark hair was undeniable.

Lisa Troy.

He groaned internally. He smiled externally. "Hey there, Liquorice."

She claimed the empty seat in front of his desk. "You're being sweet today, I see."

He ignored the mocking tone of her voice and her attempt at a pun. He had to at least give her the least of his attention. "Yeah," he said simply.

She propped her feet on his desk. "So what have you been doing lately?"

Heck, where was her decency? Some type of dung seemed to be trapped under the soles of her black boots. What made her think she could just prop dirt on his sanitized desk? He fixed his irises on her darker ones. "Maybe I'd disclose if you'd get your mucky shoes off my space."

To his surprise, she consented—but then made her way around to him. And there she sat herself, next to his computer's monitor. "Seriously?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, covered in a black long-sleeved top. "What?" she shrugged.

"You in my space!"

Lisa was taken aback. Her presence bugged him? Well, he'll just have to put up with her. She slid off the desk and dropped to her haunches, placing her arms on his desk. She turned her eyes to what was on the screen. "What are we looking at?"

"What I've been doing."

Lisa had no idea what she was looking at. A large grid with a black background with green lines and two moving green dots meant nothing to her. She wasn't even sure if she was interested in knowing what they were. Evans was a total brain and she knew it. He hardly got recognition around here, so she figured they had something in common—at the moment. But apparently not anymore. He seemed busy doing whatever he was doing.

As of late, she felt underused. She no longer saw the thrill of being an agent. She'd only one out on one mission! What happened to her dream of being a ninja? She slapped herself for thinking something so juvenile. Seriously, a ninja? But there it flew. Christina Hopper had taken the stage with almost everyone, including her, expecting her to blow it. She hadn't even wanted to go out into the field! But there she was. Nothing had been heard from her ever since she landed. What was wrong with her that she hadn't been chosen?

"You don't know the heck what you lookin' at do you?"

Lisa cocked her head up at Michael's grey blank stare. Then she lowered her eyes for a time at one of his very artistic tattoos on his toned arm. "No," she replied simply, staring back at the screen. "But it's a good thing you do," she added in attempt to break some of the ice wall.

"You been pushing against my space bubble, girl."

A smile exploded on her face with a chuckle. She jutted out her pointer finger and poked his side. "Pop!"

Maybe she'd just made it worse.

"What do you want, Lisa?"

"A friend?" she said sheepishly. How in the world had that slipped out? Shame set her face on fire. She shook her head, ready to change the subject. "What are those two green polka dots?"

"Stevens and Hopper."

Lisa felt her jaw hinge open. Could life bring any more surprises? She glanced at Evans for an explanation. His demeanor screamed the word boredom. She turned her attention back at the screen. The dots suggested they were probably inches apart. How in the world was Hopper surviving with that guy? Even after just meeting Stevens for a few minutes, she'd instantly took to disliking him. How Hopper was able to stand him was a mystery. Then her mind turned to the worst. What if they had run into danger and Stevens was using her as leverage—or worse? "Bless Hopper's heart!"

"Amen."

..........................................................

It seemed under all her pushiness, this Lisa girl had some weight in her brain. He'd discovered that she had the same worries for Hopper. There was something they could agree on—Stevens did not rub on them in the right way. Even though Hopper had never admitted to disliking Troy or Stevens, he knew she did. Now here the Trapezoid was, all three sides repelling the fourth.

Looking into Lisa's perplexed face, he grinned down at her and raised his hand. "High five."

She chuckled half-heartedly—but gave him a resounding clap on the hand in agreement.

.........................................................

Chris hopelessly tried picking the lock with a long wire with the thought that it would give no trouble. Stevens was bent over her, lantern in hand. They both heard the wire snap. Chris assaulted the lock with her fist. Stevens cursed.

She snorted. "You're so encouraging in times of stress."

He said nothing, making her look up. His eyes looked a bit crazed and sweat glazed his brow. She could see the war in his eyes. He was fighting to hold on to sanity. She felt the prick of compassion. He had weaknesses too.

His hand brushed hers as he handed her the lantern. He pulled out a pocket-knife from his dark jeans. She stood by his side as he took her place bending over the lock. First, he pulled out the bent and misshapen wire and handed it to her without second thought. Moments later she heard click! And nothing was broken! The blade came back out as straight as it had gone in.

Chris excitedly turned the knob—before Stevens even straightened. Nothing happened. She rammed the door with her side. Nothing.

"Here," said Stevens—the first word she'd heard him say in this place that wasn't dirty. In her momentary surprise, she stepped aside. He forcefully turned the knob, and rammed his shoulder onto the door. The wooden thing growled stubbornly. Chris felt her heart soften as the man attacked the door so many times with his shoulder, she was sure it was bruised—both the door and his shoulder. But then like a bucket of ice-water on her head, she realized what he was doing wasn't really for her. This was their job—whether he or she liked it or not.

"Dang!" he whispered, "You deserve to be kicked!" He gave the door a side-kick, using his body as additional force behind it. It opened by a crack. Chris was enthralled nonetheless. She tossed the lantern into Stevens' arms and threw herself into the wooden thing, pushing it open all the way, paying no heed to the mess she was making on her clothes.

A foul smell greeted them as they stepped into the dungeon. Behind her, Stevens swept the light of their golden light over the miserable looking place. Things got stranger by the second. What was a dungeon doing under a Victorian house? The ground was dressed in debris from the ceiling that was falling apart above. Chris stumbled back into his chest, the sight of a body in the corner.

The door groaned then slammed shut behind them, making Chris jump and Stevens stiffen.

"What have we found?" Chris detected the pleased curiosity in his voice.

She stepped aside, allowed him to get a closer look on his own. She suddenly felt sick. She now knew what that offensive smell was—a dead rotting corpse.

.....................................................

It had been a while since Levi had stared into the face of a dead corpse. The dead body having been exposed to the air had decomposed faster. Even though it wasn't a naked skeleton yet, decomposition had gone so far until any way of identifying the person by features was impossible—evidence that this had not happened too long ago. But checking over the bone structure of the body without touching it, he came to the conclusion that it probably was a woman.

The same fiery rage he felt when facing Hide's gang swept over him at the sight of the gaping hole on the frontal lobe of the exposed cranium. He knew the weapon responsible for that bullet hole.

A '9mm Glock. 26.

His uneasiness of being underground in a small space vanished. Someone had gotten away with taking someone's life. And the crime evidently hadn't been committed too long ago. And whoever did it had done it in secret—in an old dungeon. Bile built up in his mouth. He had really good suspects—the dang filthy sacks of slime who owned this place.

This might have had nothing to do with chemical terrorism, but he had a feeling this was connected somehow. He silently vowed then and there that justice shall be served—more soon than later.

"Did we hit something worthwhile?" the feminine voice which held a nervous tremor asked.

Levi turned, but frowned at the tone in her voice. "I guess we did, Hopper." He paused for a second. "Why?"

She stood with her back against the wooden door. He took in her paleness in the golden light. She bit her lip nervously, her eyes wide with—fear? He neared her. "What's wrong?"

With trembling fingers, she brushed over the area where a door knob and lock should be. There was nothing—just a plain old piece of solid wood. Then she ran her finger over the frame of the door, emphatically showing him how the door was almost a part of the stone wall; it had no cracks whatsoever.

Levi instantly felt panic beginning to swell in his chest. "No," was all he could dare to say. As if all Hopper had shown his was an illusion, he gave the lantern over to her and ran his hands over the door, searching for a weak spot.

He found none.

He purposefully slammed his back against the door, Hopper beside him. He accidentally stared up at the roof that was falling apart. He ran his hand through his broad strip of hair and swallowed, attempting to get rid of the fear building up in him. This isn't happening.

He turned his head down to the woman beside him, his troubling thoughts mirrored in her eyes. It was better not to say it out loud.

They were trapped.

So it's up! And guess what? I did research for this chapter! Where would I be without the internet?

Anyway, thanks for reading, and hey! Tell me what you think on it. It hasn't been edited as usual so expect some typos here and there...

Stay classy!