*Chapter 2*

Michael stepped back from the drill and accepted the water bottle Amir offered to him. Hours spent working the drill left his body vibrating like a tuning fork. He took a few cautious sips of water and sat against the sloping stone wall. He had been assigned to Amir's crew today and they were working one of the deeper veins. It was dangerous, difficult work, but Amir was one of the stronger crew leads willing to let his people rest every few hours to keep them more alert. An alert miner was less likely to make a mistake that could get people killed. Michael handed the water bottle back to Amir.

A few yards behind them another team of two worked the second small exploratory drill. Small was a misleading descriptor. Small really only meant that it could be operated by a small 2-3 man team. One of these small drills could easily catch a pocket of porous rock, spin you off your feet and crush your rib cage. If a miner was paying attention they could prevent mortal injury by recognizing the slight shift in vibration and hitting a panic button before things got deadly. The drone of the other drill made Michael's head feel like cotton, stuffed and sluggish. Even with all the precautions of ear plugs and hearing protection muffs he could feel permanent damage occurring.

The fifth member of their team was the safety. One guy who's sole responsibility was to stay aware and notice if the vibrations of a drill had shifted, to notice if the equipment testing the air was indicating a loss of oxygen. Amir rotated his crew members through their positions. It was a good idea, but after eight hours Michael wasn't about to trust that another exhausted miner was adequately monitoring their safety. Pushing himself up from the wall Michael wandered back to check the gauges and check that Jyrgal was still awake. It was an excuse to stretch his sore muscles. It was also an exercise to keep himself alert.

He was still trying to decipher what Larry's test meant this morning. It was bad enough that he was missing something, it was humiliating that it was something that was obvious to Larry. He needed to step back and reanalyze. It occurred to him that perhaps Martina's observation was a clue. Did Larry think malnutrition was taking it's toll? Did he think it was affecting Michael's ability to asses and react to a situation? Did Larry launch a physical attack just to test that Michael was still physically capable of carrying out the mission? It wasn't a move Michael would have made, but this was Larry. There was no predicting what motivated Larry. Michael also hadn't seen a mirror in quite a while. Did he really look physically unsound?

He leaned over to check the oxygen gauges. Nothing abnormal. Stretching back he raised his arms up to touch the rock of the ceiling. He closed his eyes and took a moment to block out his surroundings so that he could asses his physical state.

Sore, tight, exhausted, and slightly light headed. He was definitely underweight, but he couldn't detect anything that hinted at incapacitated. It mostly resulted in a tired dullness that made effort something Michael had to demand. At worst it would make him react a split second slow, but training and experience would make up for that. After having experienced recovering from being shot in the chest, this seemed trivial. A tremor he would have missed if he hadn't been concentrating sent goose bumps skittering up into his scalp. Michael's eyes snapped open and he shouted for Amir's attention.

Amir stood and took few steps away from the drill when the floor caved. The deafening roar emitted from the rock forced Michael to clutch his head. The rock beneath his feet writhed throwing him to his knees. Slivers rained from the tunnel ceiling, slicing through anything softer than stone. The portable lights burst in a shower sparks, plunging everything into complete darkness. The echoes died slowly to silence.

Sam twisted a beer bottle between his fingers watching the last few sips slosh back and forth. He was quietly sitting at the end of the bar alone. And if that didn't alert you that something was wrong, let me give you a little refresher course on Same Axe. Sam Axe is a social drinker. He can walk into any bar at any time and be chumming it up with the inhabitants, companionably regaling each other with stories from a shared past they will never realize Sam wasn't in. Second, Sam's charm stemmed from a natural tendency toward good humor and extroversion…

Sam sighed. Internal, witty subtext aside, he wasn't feeling himself. Last night he had failed to catch a peeping tom that a neighborhood watch had hired him for. Sure he would get another chance and no one was technically hurt. And yes, he needed the money, why else would he stoop to a job so below his skill set when there wasn't a lovely lady involved. Sam thought of himself as the type of guy to always see the opportunity of a situation. If you are going out and it happens to be raining, that's great! It means the ladies will be looking for someone to amuse them indoors, and that was Sam's specialty. On the other side of the coin, it also meant you didn't have to worry as much about containment for any job that involved explosives. You may not worry about explosives on a day to day basis, but then you probably don't have someone like Fi in your life.

Sam put the bottle down and stared out at the sun drenched people enjoying the beach, enjoying each other. Sam signaled the bartender for another beer. He missed Mikey. He worried that Mikey was in over his head with no one around to pull him out. The only way his friend would survive this long to be able to return to Miami is if he had found some one that could fill Sam's shoes. Sam wanted to see his friend again, but the thought of having anyone take Sam's place in Mike's life hurt a whole hell of a lot.

The bartender knocked on the bar to get Sam's attention. "Phone's for you Sam. You want me to keep your next beer on ice until you are done?" Sam puzzled through what the guy was saying trying to grasp the meaning. He glanced back to the pay phone on the wall and the receiver dangling as it waited to be picked up. "Uh, yeah, thanks man." Sam answered headed toward the pay phone.

"Hello?" he answered cautiously.

"Sam Axe, you navy SEAL types are so predictable. Just so you know, it should bother you that I knew exactly where you would be at 10:30 in the morning."

"Well, well, if it isn't my least favorite sociopath, what can I NOT do for you today?" Sam answered. Sam brightened, he would be unable to connect Larry to Michael. Now there was a silver lining for not knowing where Michael was. Sam felt his old self returning. Telling Larry he could go eff himself was an opportunity he wouldn't miss.