MITCH C CONNORS GOT INTO THE ELEVATOR. He was so tense he could hardly breathe. As if the prospect of finally catching Grace weren't overwhelming enough, he'd spent the past three days looking into John Merrivale's cover story for the day Lenny Brookstein disappeared. He had so much to tell her. So much still to do. He was so tense he could hardly breathe. As if the prospect of finally catching Grace weren't overwhelming enough, he'd spent the past three days looking into John Merrivale's cover story for the day Lenny Brookstein disappeared. He had so much to tell her. So much still to do.

"Seal off all exits and entrances. I want guys on the emergency stairs, in the kitchens, the laundry, everywhere."

"Excuse me!" A furious chief resident stuck her arm in the elevator just as the doors were closing. In her early fifties with short gray hair and a steely don't-f.u.c.k-with-me expression, she gave Mitch a piece of her mind. "What the h.e.l.l is going on here? This is a hospital. Who gave you permission to come storming in here like this?"

Mitch flashed her his badge, simultaneously pressing the b.u.t.ton for the sixth floor. He should have alerted the hospital authorities, but with a tip this good, there was no time for niceties. "Sorry, lady. We have good information that Grace Brookstein is in the building. If you'll excuse me..."

"I won't excuse you! I don't care if Elvis Presley's in the building. My job is to save lives. You have no authority...hey! Get out of there!" Turning around, the chief resident saw four uniformed cops pushing open the swing doors to the OR. Seizing his chance, Mitch physically pushed her out of the elevator. The last thing he saw as the elevator doors closed was the furious doctor running toward him, shaking her fist like a cartoon villain.

Grace had better be here. If she wasn't, he was in big trouble.

"LINDA R REYNOLDS. WHICH ROOM IS SHE IN?"

The staff nurse on the desk hesitated. "We're not supposed to give out patients' room numbers. Are you a family member?"

Mitch flashed his badge. "Yeah. I'm her uncle Mitch.e.l.l. Where is she?"

"Six-oh-five," said the nurse. "It's at the end of the hallway on your right."

Mitch was already running. He burst into the room, gun drawn. "Police! You're under arrest!"

A terrified orderly put his hands in the air.

"Jesus! What did I do?"

"Where is she? Grace." The man looked blank. Mitch corrected himself. "I mean Linda. The patient. Where did she go, d.a.m.n it?"

"Bathroom," the orderly stammered. "Three doors down. She'll be right back."

GRACE LOOKED AT THE GRATE COVERING the ventilation shaft. It was two feet square the ventilation shaft. It was two feet square. The same size as the crate I escaped from jail in.

As she climbed onto the toilet seat, then up onto the cistern, tears of pain filled her eyes. Her left calf was in agony. She bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from screaming and reached up with both hands. Dislodging the grate was easy. As she pushed it aside, a shower of dust fell into her eyes, temporarily blinding her, but there was no time to stop and recover. Digging her nails into the ceiling, Grace hauled herself up, squeezing her tiny frame into the ventilation shaft like dough into a pasta maker. Carefully, she replaced the grate behind her. Dust still stung her eyes like acid, but it didn't matter. Ahead of her was nothing but darkness. Inch by inch, she pulled herself forward into the void.

MITCH WALKED INTO THE LADIES' ROOM. There were three cubicles, all of them empty. There were three cubicles, all of them empty.

He turned to leave, then stopped. Walking into the middle cubicle, he ran his finger across the top of the toilet seat. The dust was as thick as sugar icing. Mitch traced a letter G G and looked up. and looked up. Could a human being fit in there? Could a human being fit in there?

Back in the corridor, he yelled into his radio.

"I need to see plans of the ventilation system. Blueprints. Where do those tunnels go?"

The chief resident stepped out of the elevator and pointed at Mitch. "There! In the blue shirt." Three burly security guards rushed toward him. Seconds later Mitch found himself being manhandled toward the emergency stairs while the resident looked on, arms folded, smiling with satisfaction. Talk about a ballbuster. Talk about a ballbuster.

"For G.o.d's sake! I'm a police officer. Do you realize realize what I could do to you guys for this? Let me go." what I could do to you guys for this? Let me go."

The biggest of the guards murmured, "You kidding, right? Do you you realize what realize what she she could do to us if we let go of your a.s.s? Trust me, Officer. You ain't got no idea." could do to us if we let go of your a.s.s? Trust me, Officer. You ain't got no idea."

GRACE'S VISION WAS CLEARING. SHE SAW light, faint rays at first, but they gradually got stronger. The tunnel forked left and right. The light was coming from the left. light, faint rays at first, but they gradually got stronger. The tunnel forked left and right. The light was coming from the left.

Grace moved toward it.

"I SWEAR TO SWEAR TO G G.o.d, IF WE'VE lost her because of this lost her because of this bulls.h.i.t, bulls.h.i.t, I will personally see to it they don't let you loose on a patient again with so much as a Band-Aid." I will personally see to it they don't let you loose on a patient again with so much as a Band-Aid."

It had taken fifteen minutes for Mitch's boss, Lieutenant Dubray, to fax the necessary warrants and consents to the hospital. Only once she had them in her hands did the chief resident order her heavies to let Mitch out of her office.

"Don't try to scare me, Detective." She laughed. "Haven't you embarra.s.sed yourself enough for one day?"

Mitch was about to hit back when one of his subordinates burst in.

"Blueprints," he panted, unrolling paper onto the desk.

GRACE LOOKED DOWN THROUGH THE GRILLE. The room was empty. This time it was tougher to wrench the ventilation panel free. Squeezed into the shaft like raw meat in a sausage skin, she was having a tough time getting any traction. Finally, with sweat from her efforts pouring down her back and chest, Grace pulled out the grille and eased herself down into the room below. The light was so bright it took a few seconds to get her bearings. She looked around. The room was empty. This time it was tougher to wrench the ventilation panel free. Squeezed into the shaft like raw meat in a sausage skin, she was having a tough time getting any traction. Finally, with sweat from her efforts pouring down her back and chest, Grace pulled out the grille and eased herself down into the room below. The light was so bright it took a few seconds to get her bearings. She looked around.

I'm in an X-ray room.

She wondered how long it would be before the technician showed up with the next patient. Do they always leave the lights on, or did someone just step out for a minute? Do they always leave the lights on, or did someone just step out for a minute? Voices outside the door answered her question. Two men were talking. Grace watched their shadows grow larger. Voices outside the door answered her question. Two men were talking. Grace watched their shadows grow larger. They're coming in! They're coming in!

MITCH STUDIED THE BLUEPRINTS. THE VENTILATION shaft had nine grilles on the sixth floor, each of them a potential exit. Mitch dispatched men to each one. The bad news was he'd lost fifteen minutes. The good news was there was no way out of the building, nor could somebody crawl between floors. It was a case of "what goes up must come down." shaft had nine grilles on the sixth floor, each of them a potential exit. Mitch dispatched men to each one. The bad news was he'd lost fifteen minutes. The good news was there was no way out of the building, nor could somebody crawl between floors. It was a case of "what goes up must come down."

"What's the closest exit to that ladies' room?"

The officer traced the tunnel with his finger.

"That would be...right here. X-ray and MRI room."

Mitch started running.

THE GRILLE IN THE X- X-RAY-ROOM CEILING was still hanging open. Grace hadn't bothered to try to cover her tracks. was still hanging open. Grace hadn't bothered to try to cover her tracks. She knows she's running out of time. She knows she's running out of time.

"I don't understand it," said the technician. "I've been here the whole time. I stepped out for literally thirty seconds. But if she got in here while I was gone, she'd have had to come past our reception desk. Liza would have seen her for sure."

"Hmm. So would my men," said Mitch. He scratched his head. "Is there any other way out of here?"

"No."

"No service elevator? Fire stairs? No window?"

"No. Look around you, Detective. This is it."

Mitch looked around. The technician was right. The room was a smooth box, empty apart from the humming X-ray machine and the circular MRI tube. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Then suddenly he saw it. In the corner. A laundry hamper, full of used scrubs. Then suddenly he saw it. In the corner. A laundry hamper, full of used scrubs.

Heart pounding, Mitch dived in, pulling out used scrubs like a starving man hunting for food sc.r.a.ps in a Dumpster. In seconds, the floor was littered with blue hospital gowns and face masks. But no sign of Grace.

He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"Okay. So she must have gone back into the shaft. Where's the next exit?"

GRACE WAITED TILL THEY'D GONE. THEN, releasing the locked muscles in her arms and legs where she'd pressed herself flat against the top of the MRI tube, she fell into the body of the machine, bruising her ribs painfully. She'd outwitted Mitch Connors for now. But how much time had that bought her? A minute? Three? Five? Despair washed over her. releasing the locked muscles in her arms and legs where she'd pressed herself flat against the top of the MRI tube, she fell into the body of the machine, bruising her ribs painfully. She'd outwitted Mitch Connors for now. But how much time had that bought her? A minute? Three? Five? Despair washed over her.

The whole hospital's surrounded. I'm never going to get out.

She contemplated giving up. Before she knew about Connie, and Lenny's betrayal, she'd never questioned why why she kept running, she kept running, why why she kept fighting. It was all for Lenny. She had to clear his name, to honor his memory. Now, for the first time, Grace realized that wasn't enough anymore. She needed another, better reason. She needed to fight for herself. She needed to save her own life. she kept fighting. It was all for Lenny. She had to clear his name, to honor his memory. Now, for the first time, Grace realized that wasn't enough anymore. She needed another, better reason. She needed to fight for herself. She needed to save her own life.

Easing herself out of the machine, she stood up.

I can't give up. I won't.

She picked up a set of scrubs from the pile on the floor and pulled them on.

GRACE WALKED SLOWLY TOWARD THE FIRE stairs, trying not to limp. stairs, trying not to limp. I have to get off this floor. Make it to ground level and try and bluff my way out of here. I have to get off this floor. Make it to ground level and try and bluff my way out of here.

The X-ray-department receptionist watched her pa.s.s but said nothing. With her blue paper hat pulled low and a surgical mask over her face, she could have been anyone. Beyond reception, two cops stood by the swing doors. Grace waited with her heart in her mouth for one of them to ask her for ID, but they, too, let her pa.s.s. She was almost at the emergency exit door. Just a few more paces.

"Hey. Hey, you! In the blue."

Grace kept walking.

"HEY!" The voice got louder. "Stop!"

Keep going. Don't look back.

"You can't go out of there. It's..."

Grace opened the door.

"...alarmed."

Sirens whooped. Bells, shrill and deafening, rang in Grace's ears. For a moment she panicked, frozen. In a few seconds, the stairwell would be crawling with cops. I'll never make it down six floors. There's no time. I'll never make it down six floors. There's no time.

She looked up and started to run.

MITCH'S RADIO CRACKLED. "SHE'S ON THE east fire stairs. Sixth floor." east fire stairs. Sixth floor."

His heart leaped. "Cover every exit."

"Already done, sir."

"Tell all units, you can draw your weapons but do not fire do not fire. Understand? No shooting."

"Sir."

There was no way out of the building. Outside the hospital, the media had already begun to arrive. Mitch knew none of his men would have leaked the story, but it was tough to send a hundred cops into a major New York City hospital without people getting curious. TV crews scrambled to set up their equipment, eager to capture the drama as it unfolded. Mitch thought, They're probably hoping for a shoot-out. How much would the first shots of Grace Brookstein's dead body be worth? They're probably hoping for a shoot-out. How much would the first shots of Grace Brookstein's dead body be worth?

He wished he could protect her. That he could stop her from running. Keep her safe, with him.

He headed for the roof.

GRACE LOOKED AROUND HER. This is it. The end of the road. This is it. The end of the road.

If only Manhattan's skyline were like a Spider-Man movie, where the next building over was always a short jump away. In real life, the eight-story hospital was sandwiched between two twenty-story towers. The only way down from the roof was via the fire stairs Grace had just come up, or an identical set of stairs on the western side of the building.