Against the Rules Read Online Free Page A

Anger and desperation roiled in his gut as he unconsciously stabbed each key as though they were to blame for his intolerable position. Instantly, anger gave way to cold, hard fear as ACCESS DENIED appeared on the screen. Fuck .
    Before he could clear the message and try again, the phone rang. “Foster, this is Chief Donley. What is your interest in subject four-six-two?”
    Oh shit . “Chief,” Foster stalled to consider his options. “How ya doing? How do you like your new posting? Is it true what they say about the desert heat?”
    “Heat is heat. What is your interest in four-six-two?” Donley replied.
    “I’ve been hearing some talk on the street about a possible hit on a snitch. The intel is sketchy, but reminiscent of the botch job on four-six-two. I wanted to make sure the handler in charge had him out of the area.” Foster listened to his racing heart as the seconds ticked by.
    “Send me what you’ve got,” the chief finally responded.
    Foster was still busy. “Yes, sir—” He realized he was groveling to a dial tone.

Chapter Two
     
     
     
    Chantel felt like a saboteur as she stared down at the mammoth machine. There had to be a way to break it, but everything she had tried, Janet had been able to fix it. If she didn’t break it properly this time, Janet was bound to catch on. Who would have dreamed that a paperclip purposely deposited into the bowels of the machine would have no effect? If she had done it by accident, it surely would have discombobulated the entire copier in the blink of an eye. So far, Janet had unjammed three different, precisely placed, miniscule pieces of paper, a paper clip and a pencil. What was it going to take?
    Finally, she had it. After running to her room, ducking beneath windows like a rowboat on a turbulent sea, she then grabbed her fingernail polish and ran back. Slowing the instant she entered the office, she did her best to look calm and reserved as usual. After waiting for everyone to take their turn at the copier, she ran a multitude of useless copies until she was alone in the room. Then she opened the covers and painted every sensor she could find.
    Wilma, the battleaxe that worked the front desk, came up behind her and managed to scare her out of a few good years, but just made small talk while she put papers in the mailboxes.
    Chantel waited a few minutes more for the polish to dry, then tried the machine. It worked perfectly—or didn’t work, as the case may have been. Only one copy managed to find its way out. She almost strained a neck muscle concealing the shriek of joy that threatened to give her away.
    Feigning irritation, she told Janet that the fricking machine was broken again and that she desperately needed it. She left strict orders to call her the minute the copier guy got here—she wanted a word with him! Janet gave her an odd look, but agreed.
    As soon as she’d dropped her students off at gym, Chantel ran to the copier room only to be severely disappointed to find it empty. Bored, but unable to leave, she began cutting construction paper into small squares. Just to keep her hands busy, she removed the Ellison machine from the cabinet and began cutting out letters. It was childish, but she waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of the yummy copier guy.
    The door finally swung open and in he walked carrying two black cases and looking very official. In an attempt to look like she was there working, not pathetically waiting around in hopes of seeing him again, she continued to press the handle of the Ellison machine down. Only this time, instead of the red construction paper, her fingers were under the press. To make matters worse, she realized she had the words R-E-E-S-E—L-O-V-E-S—C-H-A-N-T laid out for the whole world to see. She tried to pull her fingers free of the press and move the letters into an unreadable pile, yet every ounce of pressure she used to pull her hand free her other hand used to hold it in place. By the time she was sure