Hard Rain

my position,
    strode down to the door, dropped to my side, and rolled under it.
    Lying on my back to keep my profile low, I raised my head and looked
    around. The structure was shaped like a large rectangle. There was a
    row of parked cars in front of each of the four walls, and two double
    rows lengthwise up the middle. The car that had just arrived pulled
    into a space in one of the middle rows. I rolled to a crouch and,
    keeping low, ducked behind a nearby car.
    The elevators and a door marked "Stairs' were at the far end of the
    rectangle, opposite the grated doors I had just come through. A woman
    got out of the car that had come in,
    walked over to the elevators, and pressed a button. A second later,
    the doors opened. She went inside and the doors closed behind her.
    I looked around. Concrete weight-bearing pillars were spaced every few
    meters throughout. There were no ramps, so I knew it was only one
    story. From its size and location, I gathered it was intended only to
    serve the residents of the building above.
    Ideally, I would have gotten to Yukiko just as she left her car. But I
    had no way of knowing which parking space was hers, and she might
    easily see me coming if my guess left me too far away. The only choke
    point was the elevators. I decided to set up there.
    I looked around for cameras. The only one I spotted was a large double
    CCTV installation mounted on the ceiling directly in front of the
    elevators, one unit facing the elevators, the other monitoring the
    garage. Except in high security installations, where CCTV is monitored
    in real time by guards, security cameras typically record to tape that
    gets recorded over every twenty-four hours unless there's an incident
    that makes earlier review worthwhile. In a residential setup like this
    one, it was a safe bet that no one was watching the garage right now.
    But they'd sure as hell be reviewing the tapes the next day. I was
    glad I was disguised the way I was.
    There was a metal guardrail set up in a U shape around the elevator
    entrance, with three breaks in it for access. It looked like something
    intended to force residents to use a separate freight elevator for
    bringing large items in and out of the building. For me it would serve
    a better purpose.
    I took out the fishing line and tied one end of it to the top left of
    the U at knee level. Then I ran the line along the floor around the
    bottom points and the right top point of the U
    so that each break in access was covered. I secured it lightly to the
    floor with the translucent tape, then moved over to the nearest pillar,
    letting the line out as I walked.
    Squatting low, I took out my key chain and used one of the keys to cut
    the line off. I put the spool back in one of the pants pockets along
    with the tape, then wrapped the excess line around one of my gloved
    hands. I stood and angled the dental mirror so I could see the garage
    door without having to expose myself from behind the pillar.
    I waited like that for about an hour. Twice I heard the garage door
    and I checked with the mirror. The first time was a blue Saab. The
    second was a black Nissan. The third one was white. A Beemer. An
    M3.
    My heart started kicking harder. I exhaled slowly and gripped the end
    of the fishing line.
    I listened to the car as it got closer, closer. I heard it stop just a
    couple meters away. She had a good spot. Probably paid more for it.
    I heard the door open and then close. Then the chirp chirp of an
    automatic door lock. I looked in the mirror to confirm that it was
    Yukiko and that she was alone. Right on both counts.
    She was wearing a black trench coat and high heels. A purse was slung
    across her neck and one arm. None of it was ideal attire for reaction
    or maneuver. But it looked good.
    I saw that her right hand was closed around a small canister. My guess
    was Mace or pepper spray. A woman, late at night, in a parking garage
    maybe this was nothing out of the ordinary for her. But I had a
    feeling she was thinking about Harry, and about me. Good.
    She was walking briskly. I watched as she approached the perimeter of
    the metal guardrail. My breath was moving in
    and out of my mouth in silent shallow drafts. One. Two.
    Three.
    I jerked hard on the line. It popped up from its taped moorings to
    ankle level and I heard her cry of surprise as she tripped over it. She
    might have recovered her balance, but those stylish heels were on my
    side. I stepped out from behind the pillar just in