The Element of Surprise

Burglary - Part 2

I jolt awake at the sound of clattering in my apartment.

Normally, I'd turn on the light in sheer panic, but being an FBI agent, I keep it dark and hold my breath as I listen...

There it is again.

My heart spikes when, this time, the clattering sounds closer to the bedroom. Instinctively, I reach for my gun on my nightstand, only to realize I left it strapped underneath the end table in the entry way.

Shit.

Think, Estella, think...

Sucking in a quiet and shaky breath, I creep out of bed and stalk towards the door. It's left open on a crack big enough for me to peer through. Indeed, there are two shadows moving down the hall - in the kitchen, I figure.

Tiptoeing back to bed, I grab my phone and put it on silent before dialing the last number I called without looking at the screen.

It rings once... twice...

Then...

"Estella?"

"Rossi?" I whisper, surprised and relieved that he was the last person I called, "Someone's in my apartment."

"How many?"

"I'm not sure."

"Are they armed?"

"Also not sure. My gun's in the entry way, I can't get to it."

"I'm calling the Bureau. Get under your bed and don't come out until help arrives."

"Okay."

"I'm serious, Stella, stay in your room."

"Promise," my throat tightens when he hangs up and leaves me with the sound of footsteps roaming my apartment.

Doing as he told, I roll underneath the bed and lie on my stomach, keeping my eyes glued on the door. The moment it opens, I'll... do what? Shoot them? With what gun? I left my second gun at the Bureau to sell my suspension to the team - which also turns out to be the one I keep on my nightstand when I go to sleep. But I need a weapon, anything, a blade, a belt, a stick...

A light bulb flickers on in my head.

I have a pair of scissors in the first-aid kit in the bathroom, which so happens to be only a few feet down the hall. I could retrieve them and hide under the bed in less than two minutes.

'No, Rossi told you to stay put.'

Rossi's not the one lying under a bed without a weapon with possible murderers roaming the house. I need those scissors.

With my mind made up, I ease myself out from underneath the bed. For a second or two, I remain on one spot, listening where the sounds are coming from. Judging from the clattering, I pinpoint it coming from the small study nook in my living room. No doubt, they're unplugging my laptop and grabbing everything they can get their hands on.

There is still no way of knowing if they're armed, so I stealthily open my bedroom door and enter the hallway, stepping on the outer edges of my feet to eliminate all sounds. One step... two steps... come on, two more...

I hear someone approaching from the kitchen and, in a flash, I just about dive into the bathroom and hide behind the door, hoping this room isn't next on their list to raid. But then it hits me, what if this one is checking up on my room to see if I'm still asleep? If they find the bed empty, they'll go rabid.

In a beat, I slip my fingers into the cabinet above the sink and feel around for the first aid kit.

The dull creak of my bedroom door sends my heart skyrocketing.