Chapter 1: A/N: Hi guys! Sorry this chapter is so short! I came up with this idea a week or two ago and I've just been letting it grow. I'm going to guess this story will be between 10 and 15 chapters. I hope you like it! Please R&R! Thanks!
Samuel Braddock is extremely exhausted. The team is just finishing up a hot call; the subject is already cuffed and stuffed. The dumb teen thought it would be a wise idea to hold his girlfriend hostage at gunpoint on the roof of their school simply because he thought the cops would bend to his demand of 50 oz. of cocaine. Yeah, not happening. The kid fires a few shots into the air but nothing serious. Sam has been laying in his sniper perch kicking himself awake every two minutes. He is just so tired! Maybe it is from the two and a half hours of sleep he had last night or the lack of caffeine this morning. Either way, at three pm, Sam is dragging. By the time they finish with the call, (the girlfriend is uninjured, just a bit rattled) the team only has an hour left in their ten hour shift before they have all of tomorrow off duty.
As Sam is walking very slowly down the concrete stairs of the adjacent building to the school, he thinks he hears something. Warily glancing around, he doesn't find anything so he just keeps plodding down the steps a bit more alert. Again, Sam hears the noise. But again, nothing is there. He feels like someone is watching him. No, maybe it's just his imagination. He's almost down to the 2nd floor of the seven story building when something very heavy from the floor above him suddenly drops down onto him. Sam's head smashes into the concrete landing, knocking him unconscious. His body limply sprawls out across the tile and his right arm is twisted at a severe angle, clearly broken. His five attackers slink out from their strategically planned camouflaged covers. They are all men dressed in all black with ski masks pulled over their faces only showing their eyes and mouths. They kneel next to the SRU officer's body to quickly and silently strip him of his com-link, weapons, vest and cell phone. The ringleader points to another man in the small group, presumably the 2nd in-command.
"Help me carry him." The leader says quietly.
The two men lift Sam's limp body off the floor, one grabbing his arms, one at his legs; to carry him down the last two flights of stairs with the remaining three men protectively surrounding them.
Outside, the Team doesn't know what is happening. They hear Sam grunt and a quiet scuttle sounding around him but the line quickly turns silent.
"Sam! Sam, talk to me. Status. C'mon Sam, status!" Greg shouts.
Everyone grows sick with sorry when their teammate does not respond.
"C'mon Sam, speak to me!" Jules cries.
Greg shakes his head 'no.' "It's no use. The line's dead."
"Well, where is he? Why isn't he calling us?! Oh Greg, he's been shot. He's been shot and he's bleeding out or-or-or dead. We have to get to him!" Jules frantically concludes.
"Jules," Greg starts.
"Greg, there's movement on the front entrance." Ed says staring through his binoculars pointing to the building next to the school.
"Let's go get him." Greg states grabbing a shield.
Spike doubles up shields with Jules, Ed with Wordy and Greg on his own. The Team quickly approaches the parking lot of the looming building just as five armed men in black burst through the front door. Three immediately start firing at the SRU officers while the other two race for a nearby green van holding a limp body in their arms. Team one returns fire as the two men hop in the van as do the other three.
"They have Sam!" Jules cries as the green van speeds away.
"Winnie! Plate number: 8A37C ugh, they're too far away! It's a green Toyota van. See if those first numbers pick anything up." Spike says as they jump into their SUVs trying to follow the van.
"Boss, he's got a bad concussion." Terrance, the man 2nd in command, states checking over the young man slumped up against the back van window. "His right arm is broken in three different places."
He was formerly a paramedic, one of the best in his station. Then life happened. He'll spare you the details.
"It's fine." The ringleader states briefly glancing in the rearview mirror and tensely sitting in the driver's seat driving very fast through the back alleys. "It's fine as long as he's alive."
Terrance nods and grimaces. They had not pounced on their victim too hard, just hard enough to knock him out. However, the accidental dropping of the cop down the last flight of concrete stairs had not been planned. A small trickle of blood is starting to seep through Sam's thick blonde hair from the back of his head's harsh meet-and-greet with the concrete. The leader pulls into an old warehouse just as Sam starts to come around. The ex-medic winces as the cop's eyes flutter open and his hand flies to the back of his head. Sam starts to glance panicking at his captors as they drag him out of the van.
'Who are these men and where am I?' Sam thinks as his hands are being bound behind his back with duck-tape.
A large man grabs Sam's right arm and starts to pull him forward. The young cop yells in agony and refuses to move until the leader smacks him in the back of his head with the metal handgun. Sam breathes in sharply as the weapon makes direct contact with his wound. More blood seeps through Sam's hair as the barrel has broken through the skin. The leader shove the gun under Sam's jaw, the safety flicked off and with an icy hatred in his voice snarls, "Walk."
Sam reluctantly complies. The five men split off into different hallways until there is only the leader and the muscleman left. They lead Sam into a large room with half of the room brightly lit and the other half dim. A single metal chair sits in the middle. The muscleman sits Sam down in the chair then proceeds to wrap duck-tape around Sam's upper arms, bounding them to the top of the chair. He then bound each of Sam's legs to the two front legs of the chair. Meanwhile, the leader has dragged a stool over to the chair and placed a sniper rifle on it positioning it so the barrel is flush against Sam's right temple. He unravels a long, thin tube with a large red button on the hand-molded black handle. He wraps his hand around the handle, his thumb hovering over the red button.
"You see; if I push this button, a rush of oxygen will be forced through the tube and within seconds, expand the section of tubing in between the area in front of the trigger and the trigger itself essentially causing the trigger to be pulled, discharging a bullet which will puncture through your skull and kill you. Is that clear? Now, look at the camera when you are speaking." He says pointing to a barely visible video camera on a tripod in the murky shadows before Sam.
Sam gulps and prays his team will find him before it is too late. "What do you want from me?"
A/N: Ha! Cliffy! Hahaha! What can I say? I like making you guys sweat! Tell me what you think! I really think you guys are going to like this book; and I really hope you do! Please review! It makes me feel better! Thanks so much for reading!