Sophie leaned back against the rear doors of Lucille and removed the glasses that had been part of her latest characterization. She was looking forward to getting out of the stuffy business attire and into a more relaxed and flattering look. Although, she admitted to herself, she could make any look work. She looked up to see Nate walking towards her, hands in his pockets and just the faintest hint of a grin on his face.

"Did you enjoy your moment of gloat?"

"I don't know what you mean." Nate tried to look innocent, and failed miserably.

"Oh Please, there is nothing you enjoy more than watching the mark realize he has been had. You revel in it."

"One should always take satisfaction in a job well done. Where is everyone?"

"Hardison and Parker are in the van putting everything away. Eliot is either finishing his final sweep of the area, or getting the phone number of the cute receptionist. Maybe both."

Nate shook his head and walked over to the sidewalk, looking up and the down the street for Eliot. He could see the receptionist at the desk in the lobby of the building they had just left, so he knew the phone number scenario wasn't right. That wasn't to say he hadn't already added her number to his collection. For someone who could be so terribly menacing, Eliot had a charm with the ladies that was worth serious scientific study. So, Eliot was likely somewhere within a two block radius, making sure that there was no one taking undue interest in the activities of the team before they headed home. He brought whole new level of meaning to the word cautious. Just as Nate had decided to summon the Hitter home via the earbuds, Eliot's voice was in his head. From the sound of his breathing Nate could tell he was running hard. "Boarded up building on fire 2 blocks south at the waterfront. There are people in there though – I can hear them. I'm going in."

"Eliot hold off – Hardison is putting in the 911 call. Let the pros handle this."

"Nate – there are people in there. I'm going in."

Nate jumped out of the van before Hardison had brought it to a full stop. They could see white smoke billowing from broken second story windows. Off to the side a small group of people stood, apparently in shock. Sophie hurried over to find out what they knew.

"Don't know where the fire started. The door was blocked and we couldn't get out. Then this hole just appears in the wall and this guy came running in yelling at everyone to get out. He tore the wall down with his bare hands – who the hell does that?

"Where is he now?"

"Still in there I guess. He heard there might still be couple of the kids sleeping in the loft."

Sophie looked up where the smoke had turned to an ominous grey. She shouted to Nate when she saw the shapes in the window. At the same moment Eliot's voice was in her ear. "Get someone over here to catch the kids". He was lowering someone from the window – someone small. The spectators ran over underneath, and caught her as she dropped the final few feet. Sirens could now be heard in the distance, and Eliot disappeared into the building again. A few seconds later the dropping process was repeated.

"Get everybody away from here – there are barrels of something up here and they are starting to make noise.

"Eliot the professionals are here. Get out – get out now."

"I will – just gotta check one more spot. There were three sleeping bags up here."

Nate turned to the kids who had been rescued. The older one, all of 7, shook his head. "Just the two of us".

"Eliot there's nobody else. Get out now."

"I heard. I'm coming down the –"

The end of the sentence was lost in the explosion and fireball that burst from the upper story windows. Nate and several of the spectators were blown off their feet as the fire trucks pulled in. Hardison pulled him to his feet as the team looked up to the building, not ready to acknowledge what they had just seen.

40 minutes later the worst of the fire seemed under control. They were still pumping water, but the rush of activity had slowed. Most of the "residents" had been taken to shelters or hospital, with a few still standing on the side lines, looking on mutely. Hardison and Sophie were trying to talk to them, to find out what had happened, but everyone was still in shock.

Everyone kept trying to raise Eliot on the earbud, but after 30 minutes Hardison turned off the main monitor. It was too hard to see Eliot's transmission light on, with no activity.

Parker had disappeared a few minutes after the explosion. She was spotted a few minutes later on a nearby roof, watching the activity below, searching for what she knew she wouldn't find.

Nate was trying to listen in on the conversations he could hear with the fire captain. He was pretty sure the word arson came up – more than once. But he was having trouble concentrating. The earbud was buzzing, as if all the radios and walkie-talkies were creating static. He started to reach up to remove it, when he realized the static had a natural underlying rhythm. "Hardison – I need you at the van."

A minute later the back door of Lucille opened and Nate pulled him in. "Easy man, I'm coming". "Mute the static" "What" "Turn the monitor back on and mute the static on Eliot's receiver. There is something else there." A few seconds later there was silence is the van, nothing coming in on the receiver. "I was sure I heard something".

"Hang on, let me boost this…" The silence ensued again, but was quickly broken by a weak wheezing gasp for breath, and then another.

"Where is he – find him."

Nate ran out to alert the rescue crew. "You have got to be kidding me. No way anybody could be calling from in there. The fireball was huge, and the smoke since then is too thick to see through. The building is unstable – I can't send anyone in."

"Got the location Nate. "

"They won't take it. Hang on Eliot; we're coming in for you."

What started as a no became a rasping cough.

"Look, you are just a few feet away from a back exit – we can do this."

"Where is the door" The rawness of Eliot's voice made Nate's own throat ache.

"Sliding ramp on the wall behind you – maybe 12 feet away."

They heard nothing but grunts and swearing for the next 30 seconds as they ran to the back of the building, circling behind the firefighters still wetting down the structure. The building groaned and swayed with the added weight of the water, and sections were beginning to buckle. As they rounded the last corner ½ the roof caved in before their eyes. When the dust settled, all they could see were piles of debris. Then one of the piles moved.

Eliot smelled the smoke before he could see any haze in the sky.He scanned the skyline, and tracked out the direction of the winds.Only took a couple of seconds to determine the fire was near the waterfront – probably one of those abandoned warehouses. Tin structures with not much to burn in there but lots of troubled or homeless folks taking refuge.As he got closer he could hear the buzz of growing panic.Why was no one leaving the building?Smoke was clearly filling the place, and flickering light showed flames near the back.Then he saw it – crates, debris and a general collection of crap barricading the front door.The doors vibrated as people pushed against them to escape – but there was too much blockage.Eliot's eyes darted back and forth, looking for another way in.There – to the right.It wasn't much of a hole, but there was a vent there.It might just give him the leverage he needed. Nate was in his ear, telling him to wait, but that wasn't his style. He grabbed a crate as he ran passed to climb on for access.Reaching up with both hands he grabbed the vent cover off and started to pull at the riveted seam.Slowly, too slowly, he could feel it moving.He stopped for a moment, closed his eyes and centred himself.Some had told him once that he looked like the Hulk when he got that look on his face.He kept meaning to check that out with Hardison to see if it was a good thing – Eliot didn't do comics.What he did do was strength.The rivets began to pop like buttons on a shirt, and in less than a minute there was an opening though which the trapped squatters ran.He could still hear noises from inside.There was a cracking and popping sound, and when he saw the metal barrels he knew something was heating up in there that would not remain contained for long.The writing on the side saying Caution – Toxic, did not encourage him.As he turned to follow the fleeing crowd out, he heard someone ask about the kids upstairs, and raced toward the ladder.At the top, huddled together were two scared kids, hiding underneath three sleeping bags.The math concerned him.They seem to look more terrified of him than the fire, until he remembered the Hulk face.Trying to put a smile on, he scooped up one in each arm and ran to the loading window in the front.He had been so focused on the situation that it took him a minute to realize he was still hearing Nate and Sophie in is ear yelling at him to clear out. "Get someone over here to catch the kids". He lowered the girl as far as he could, then let her go to be caught by the crowd below.The boy was next. He kept shouting to Nate, but notice his voice was getting hoarser with each sentence.

"Get everybody away from here – there are barrels of something up here and they are starting to make noise.I gotta check one more spot.There were three sleeping bags up here."It was getting harder to breathe, and to focus.By the time he heard Nate tell him there were no other kids, he was nearly to the back of the building.He started to let them know that was his escape plan when he heard the rushing of air pushing past him, with the heat and force of the explosion. He could feel himself falling, but never felt the landing.

He was hearing voices in his head.That couldn't be a good sign.Trying to push himself up he realized instantly he had a dislocated shoulder and gasped out in pain.That was followed by a bellow as his raw throat seized up.The bellow just made it hurt more, and he willed himself to stop reacting.Breathing was shallow gasps – anything beyond that was impossible.His lungs wouldn't accept the effort.He recognized the voices as coming from the team, but couldn't respond to them, and even if he could get up escape, he had no idea of where to go. He felt himself passing out again.

"Eliot – we're coming for you".

"No" The effort to scream came out as a squeak, but still ripped is throat apart.They couldn't come in to this.He forced himself to talk. "Where is the door?"12 feet – it might as well be a mile.He dragged himself, writhing with every movement.He tried to guess how many bones were broken, muscles torn, but he couldn't focus.Couldn't breathe anymore.Through blurring eyes he saw the ramp and dragged himself to his knees for the last few feet.He sensed rather than felt the force of air behind him again, this time created by the collapse of the building.It pushed him off the ramp and into the debris below.The voices in his head kept calling his name, yelling at him to breathe.He tried – and failed.