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He had no idea just where he was but he knew that he was moving -- a
curiously disorientating feeling considering he was lying down. Several
sensations, none of them pleasant, transmitted themselves to his waking brain in
a split second of overload.....
Ezra couldn’t help think... ‘Damn
this hurts,’
JD cursed again. Gawd Ezra weighed a
ton. How did Josiah ever manage to haul his butt around when time had called
for it in the past? With a burning side and choking, spasming throat JD dragged
Standish down the flight of steps. He didn’t have the lung capacity nor the
strength to lift the undercover agent. Besides with Ezra’s hands cuffed behind
his back JD didn’t think he could gain any leverage and lift his partner up.
Through the smoke and the heat JD
struggled to haul his burden toward the nearest exit. The young agent kept his
nose and mouth tucked into the crook of his shoulder as he backed his way down
the steps. Standish followed with a resounding thump...thump...thump.....
JD was not sure what had happened.
One minute he and Ezra had been checking the upper offices of the crumbling
office building and the next JD had found himself alone. The electricity to the
building had been cut long before they got there and the electric company still
fought to get the switches and circuits to cooperate.
Where the smoke and fire came from
was a complete mystery but the explosion from across the building had been a
definite clue.
When JD had turned to ask Ezra where
they should check next Dunne had found himself all alone.
Where the Hell had Ezra gotten off
too?
The Computer expert then backtracked
his steps peeking his head into long deserted offices checking for the missing
agent. The thin beam of his flashlight had sliced through the shifting greys of
deep long shadows. It had cut a swath through the milky blackness dancing
across overturned furniture hastily closed draws and littered floors. It was
the third office from the stairs that he had found Ezra.
The flashlight beam did not land on
him. No such luck. JD had peered around the corner of the office shining the
light at waist level cutting back the darkness with the narrow beam. When he
had stepped forward he tripped into feet. There laying on his belly with his hands
cuffed behind his back had lain Standish.
“Oh Shit,” JD had knelt beside the
undercover agent and quickly felt for a pulse. He found one immediately.
Standish had groaned in response and shifted a foot but had failed to waken.
“Easy Ez...yer gonna be alright,” JD
used his light to search the room, desperate to make sure a threat did not lurk
too close in the camouflage of the dark recesses of the room. As the light
splayed haphazardly around the room two things had happened simultaneously.
A loud explosion had split the air
rattling the very foundation of the building with bone shattering
intensity....and a body flew from a dark corner into Dunne and out the door.
The flashlight sailed from the agent’s hand out the office and over the railing
down to the main floor.
JD scrambled to his feet shouting,
“Federal Agent,” but the silhouette disappeared like a rat down a drain cover.
Smoke began to roll across the empty
warehouse. A loud roar filled the area. The air seemed to thicken and the
temperature suddenly started to rise.
Dunne took a step to pursue the
evading collar but he tripped over the sprawled legs on the ground.
Ezra.
Shit.
JD fumbled to find the lock on the
cuffs. He fumbled for the keys. Between the intensely growing heat and the
increasingly thick smoke Dunne abandoned his efforts.
“Come on Ez..wake up...wake up
Ez...we’re in some serious shit....Ezra!” JD slapped the Southerner’s face
trying to bring him around but to no avail.
Dunne’s chest constricted. He tried
to draw a deep breath but a hacking choking cough seized him. He collapsed to
his knees with watering eyes. Visibility reduced itself to just a few inches.
With watering eyes that burned with
fierce intensity, JD fumbled for Ezra’s shoulders, flipped the larger man over
and then proceed to drag him from the office.
JD backpedaled. He tried to recall
how far he was from the stairwell. It was a straight shot to the ground. This
old warehouse had been converted into an office building a few years ago but
the business had gone under. A suspected cigarette runner had been known to use
it as a storage house and a headquarters.
With rising panic and decreasing
ability to breath, JD dragged Standish toward the stairs.
The first step took him by surprise.
If he had not been leaning forward over Ezra and if Standish’s body had not
been so heavy JD would have tumbled backward down the steps. As it were he
stumbled but had himself anchored by Ezra.
With mumbled apologies JD stutter
stepped his way down the stairs. Standish’s lower body hit each step with a
thump.
Dunne fished for each consecutive
step with his toe. Satisfied that another stair lay solidly beneath the ball of
his foot he followed down to the next one. This continued for twenty five
steps.
The smoke had become blinding. His
breaths came in short painful gasps. He squeezed his eyes closed but tears
streamed steadily down his cheeks. Heat lanced his body in formidable waves. He
could feel the hair on his arms singe. The heat penetrated through the soles of
his sneakers.
His thighs and back burned with
their own intensity. Shoulders and arms ached and complained.
JD reached the last step and then
angled himself and his burden toward the door. He hoped.
Dunne didn’t want to admit it but
descending the steps had been a heck of a lot easier than dragging Standish
across a flat surface.
Smoke penetrated his eyelids. It
swirled up his nose and down his throat choking him. The pervading buildup of
carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide sapped the strength from him. Lethargy
seeped in and coated his muscles as red blood cells held tightly to their
precious cargo of oxygen. Muscles screamed for fuel.
JD saw lights flashing on the edges
of his vision. He felt dizzy even though his eyes remained closed. He became increasingly
lightheaded with each shuffling step.
Dunne choked back a frustrated sob
as he struggled backward tripping over his own clumsy feet.
He felt himself falling. He felt his
back smash into a horizontal bar. The bar collapsed with a muted click. And
something else gave.
JD continued to fall. The young
agent would not relinquish his grip on his friend.
With resounding disappointment and
disbelieve that he might have failed at something, the ATF agent spilled over
backward.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“There they are!” Buck hollered out
pointing and running across the parking lot toward the side exit as the duo
spilled from the door. Smoke billowed out and over the two collapsing bodies.
Team Seven converged on their agents
like a storm tide.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JD could not quite fathom what was
happening. The roaring in his ears drowned out everything even his own racing
pulse. He gripped Ezra’s shoulders refusing to let go.
“Damn JD let go we got ‘im,”
“Someone get these damn cuffs off
him,”
“We don’t have time for that....Git
away from the building!”
“EMT’s are over that way,”
JD couldn’t make sense of the voices
or who belonged to which statement but he recognized the tones of his team.
Strong hands gathered him up and
tossed him over a bony shoulder. The joint dug painfully into his gut and
stimulated a cough.
“Easy Pard’ yer gonna be ok,”
JD tried to open his eyes and get a
look at Vin but his eyelids refused to cooperate. Protective reflexes would not
be overridden.
JD then felt himself get lowered
onto something relatively soft. “Yea did good Kid,” Buck leaned over Dunne and
wiped grime and soot from his young roommate’s face, “Damn proud of ya kid.”
JD smiled under the praise without
opening his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ezra felt himself moving again.
Least this time the immediate discomfort of repeated abuse did not invade his
senses. Instead something smothered his nose and mouth. The back of his head
drummed painfully in synchrony with his pulse and try as he might he could not
take a deep breath.
He struggled to open his eyes but
they refused to respond and for some reason they burned. He could feel grit
under the lids.
“Let’s git these cuffs off him,” A
voice penetrated through the white noise. Josiah?
Someone rolled him onto his side. He
felt his arms get pulled forward.
Standish tried to talk, make a sound
but the contraption over his mouth and nose hampered his attempts. He panicked
and tried to take a deep breath. His lungs failed to cooperate and a hacking
cough wracked his body.
“Take it easy Ezra....don’t fight
us,” a familiar voice again...but not Josiah’s.
With new found freedom he tugged at
whatever covered his face.
“Whoa easy Ezra ya gotta keep that
on,” Nathan leaned forward and brushed the soot covered hand away from the
oxygen mask.
Standish recognized Jackson’s voice
and though comforted by it he did not find his situation soothing. In an effort
to decrease his sense of vulnerability he tried to sit up.
“Whoa pard’ you ain’t gonna be doin’
that for a bit yet,” A set of gentle but firm hands pushed him back down. Vin’s
voice.
Josiah knelt beside the wheeled
stretcher blocking the EMT’s immediate access to the downed agent. “Easy
Brother, ya got a bump on the head and too much smoke inside ya,” The
reassuring voice rolled through the fog.
“Why don’t you boys see to our
Brother Dunne,” Josiah gazed over his shoulder to the EMT’s, “Ezra here won’t
be too cooperative til he understands what’s going on,”
The two EMT’s were about to argue but
a sharp glare from Chris smothered any resistance.
Ezra tried to follow the voices with
unseeing eyes. He pivoted his head on the small square pillow craning and
stretching his neck trying to get a fix on the strangers that surrounded him.
“Ezra...” Josiah’s voice sounded
again, “Ezra jist relax...ya took a hit to the head...ya understand me...JD
dragged you out of a fire,” Josiah watched as the sweat and charcoal stained
face stopped its frantic movements and focused on his voice. Dirty hands fisted
and twisted the sheets of the stretcher.
“JD?” The voice rasped and mumbled
under the constant flow of oxygen.
“He’s fine,” Nathan cleaned one hand
and forearm and slid a preventative IV catheter home.
Standish nodded his head and then
wiped the side of his face on the pillow once again trying to dislodge the
oxygen.
“No you don’t brother,” Josiah
replaced the mask and simply nodded for one of the EMT’s to start their drill.
Chris stood back and watched his
men. He shook his head. A simple bust for illegal cigarettes turns into an
assault on a federal officer and a bombing. Only his team.
He watched as Buck and Vin hovered
over JD. Dunne coughed out a hoarse laugh at Buck’s antics and Tanner’s quiet
dry one liners. An EMT set up an IV and worked discreetly over the young agent
getting as much done as quickly as he could while Buck and Vin worked their
magic.
He switched his attention to the
second gurney. Josiah and Nathan worked in tandem with a second EMT discreetly
kept in the background. Standish’s resistance though muted by the oxygen mask
was easily discernible through his body language. The Southern kept his legs
bent knees pointing toward the sky. He shifted his legs constantly trying to
alleviate tension. Hands curled white knuckled in sheets.
Nathan worked quickly and quietly as
Josiah continued to talk and reassure the younger agent.
As if on cue the two gurneys were
loaded into ambulances. Neither downed agent would ride alone.
Chris turned and watched as fire
crews worked to put out the blazing building. Hoses snaked and twitched like
living beings. Water and fire met at the second story in a billow of white
steam. Firemen in turnouts and boots jogged every which way in their own
macabre busy dance of those fighting a dangerous enemy.
“You comin’ pard?” Vin’s hand on his
shoulder pulled him from his reverie. He really hated fire.
“Yeah let’s go.”
The end.