Ducts, Regrets, and Blood

Brighton Complex – Air Ducts

Wedged into the tight space, unable to move, Sam tried hard to cling to consciousness. He quit sweating about the same time Ed managed to talk down the subject and realized he was in deep trouble. When the Scorpio shot was not required, he began backing out of his Sierra One location the same way he came in because the vent he sighted through was too tiny for him to exit.

Sam still couldn't quite wrap his head around what happened. One minute he was inching backward, his foot caught on something, he kicked to get loose, continued backing up, then he was falling and couldn't stop himself. In his less than stellar condition, overheated, he failed to realize he must've dislodged a partition covering an old vertical shaft.

Not sure when his descent ended, having blacked out on the way down, he found himself with one arm pinned at his side with his Remi, and one above him. So tightly jammed, breathing became difficult and reaching his phone impossible. Unfortunately, the heat, stale air, and constriction kept him in a constant fuzzy state. He had no idea how much time passed, his arm with his watch the one alongside his body.

His first clear thought came in conjunction with his team leader barking at him for status. Ed was a hard, demanding man, who Sam respected and could deal with … many of his COs in the military would make Ed look like a pussy cat in comparison. Embarrassed to be stuck, he had only uttered the two words. But it cost him … his world dimmed afterward into grayness and anything anyone might be saying was lost on him.

En Route to Brighton

Spike peered at the blueprints as Lou drove. He contained his anger, at himself, to focus on the situation. "Ed, he went in from the access panel on the fifth floor. Though a snug fit, the shafts appear on the specs to be wide enough all the way to where he set up Sierra One. I don't see how he could get stuck."

Disgusted with herself for assuming Sam went with Boss since he had been patrolling with her today, Jules suggested, "Maybe the heat in the building changed something … perhaps he isn't so much as stuck, but perhaps incapacitated. We all were sweating bullets in there."

"The vents would have less fresh air too, be hotter than the rooms," Wordy interjected. He felt sick to his stomach that they left Sam. The rookie might be a little much to handle, always one for actions before words, but that didn't excuse any of them for forgetting about him.

Greg glanced at Ed in the driver's seat. His team leader's jaw was clenched tight, and the waves of self-recrimination surged off him. "Ed—"

"WHAT?" Ed snapped, letting the fury he held for himself burst forth.

"Sam will be alright." At least Greg hoped he was … if not, well, he didn't want to think of that possibility. Never in his career had he ever made such a grievous error with a fellow officer. Yes, he had been miffed at the way Holleran placed Sam on the team without his input, but nothing would absolve him of his disregard for Sam's safety.

"You don't' know that! Dammit, how the hell could I leave without him? I checked on everyone … made sure they had water before we left." Ed halted his remarks as the boulder in the pit of his stomach grew. "No that's wrong. I didn't check everyone … I forgot about Sam." Ed slammed his palm on the steering wheel.

"We … we forgot. This isn't just on you. He's been on our team for only a few weeks, and well, we …" Greg trailed off, his next words sounding hollow in his mind and nothing more than a weak excuse … we aren't used to looking out for him yet.

Lou blew out a breath before interjecting, "Sam's been reticent ever since the drug dealer warrant call where the kid died. I'm not sure what words Ed and Sam shared by the ambulance, but whatever they were, Sam quit offering suggestions. He just came in and did what we told him. I think his quietness is a factor in today's events."

Ed wanted to hit something. This was on him. The safety of his team … WHICH INCLUDED SAM … was on him. Sam's words about not treating him like a member of the team wrapped around Ed's throat and constricted. He still couldn't believe he slammed Sam into the EMS rig that day … that he let Steve's words get under his skin, and second guess Sam's abilities. Sam sharing the reason he left the military walloped him, especially the rough undertone of intense emotion the ex-soldier tried to hide. The weight the younger man must bear for a friendly fire incident which killed his best friend must be enormous … and Ed kicked himself for turning a blind eye.

Pulling to a stop outside the building, Ed slammed the gear into park and hopped out. "Jules, you're the smallest. I want you and Wordy to go to the access panel and you to go in and locate where he is stuck. Lou, you're with me … let's get to the fifth-floor room and check the vent where he took up the sniper position. Spike, need you on the blueprints … once we locate him, we gotta figure out how to get him out the fastest way."

Greg headed straight for the EMS rig and the paramedic who waited for them. "One of my men is stuck in the ventilation system. He's been in there for at least five hours."

Brad arched a brow wondering how an SRU officer got stuck when the team just arrived. "Five? Likely going to be dealing with heat exhaustion. What floor?"

"Fifth. Though we are not sure exactly where he is. Once we find him, I'll inform you." Greg turned and trotted after Ed and the others as the medic began to pull out the gurney and supply boxes.

Brighton Complex – Fifth Floor Room

After procuring the only ladder available from the maintenance guy on the first-floor, Ed wondered if it would support his weight. Without another option, he climbed the wooden ladder which used a screwdriver through a hole to hold one of the legs in place as Lou stabilized it. Jules would probably cringe and lecture him about safety for using this decrepit thing.

Ed got the distinct impression this building might appear fresh and new, but it was only refurbished in a slapdash manner. Using his flashlight, he peered into the small vent, hoping to find Sam, but only viewed empty space. "SAM! SAM."

He waited for a response, straining his ears for the slightest sound. Getting none, Ed said, "Sam, if you can hear me and can't talk, at least knock."

As the ladder wobbled, Lou increased his grip, not wanting to add Ed to the potentially injured. "I think the heat got to him. He hasn't responded to any of our calls over the headset."

Brighton Complex – Air Ducts

Jules shimmied through the ducts, taking many turns along the lengthy path to the vent, and becoming drenched with sweat in short order. The heat was much worse inside the square sheet metal tube. "Guys, it's really hot in here … don't know how Sam managed for so long." A new fear popped in her head. God, please don't let him be dead.

Making the final turn, Jules peered down the empty stretch of duct, dimly lit by Ed's flashlight from the vent about three hundred feet from her position. "Not possible. He's not here."

"Jules, come forward … there is something askew about a hundred feet from me. I can't tell what it is," Ed relayed.

Crawling forward as fast as possible, her sweaty hands slipping on the slick metal, she wished she wore her gloves. Getting closer, the penlight clenched in her teeth glinted off metal. She removed it and said, "Looks like a panel of some sort." Jules' eyes widened as she stopped, peered down a vertical shaft, and spotted the top of their blond-haired rookie. "FOUND HIM. Spike, there's a shaft here … about one hundred feet from the room's vent. It runs vertical, not horizontal."

She reached across the opening to get a better view and her fingers landed on the edge. "Sam, are you okay?" She waited for a beat for any sound. Not seeing any movement, she moved her hand back and it came away sticky. "He isn't responsive and appears to be wedged in … only his head, shoulders, and one arm are visible. I don't recall this on the schematics. Spike, he's too far down for me to reach. Maybe about eighteen to twenty feet. No other ductwork appears to be connected from what I can see."

Outside Brighton Complex

Spike's laptop sat open on the hood of the SUV as he rescanned the blueprints submitted for the remodeling. "Nothing on these prints. Gotta see if I can find the original plans."

He pulled out his cell phone and called his friend who worked at the planning commission since he couldn't find any other documents online. "Hey, Wade, me Spike. I need a favor. My teammate is trapped in the ventilation system at Brighton Complex. He's in a duct I can't find on the plans. Can you go to the archives and check if there are originals? Oh, and hurry … he's been stuck for a long time, and it is critical we get him out fast."

His buddy agreed, and as Spike waited on hold, he said, "Winnie, we're probably gonna need a fire rescue crew. At twenty or so feet, that will put Sam somewhere between the third and fourth floor."

"Copy," Winnie replied as she monitored their communications. She called the direct line of the fire department dispatch.

When Boss appeared next to him, Spike requested, "Can you grab the thermal imager from the back? Might need it to locate exactly where Sam is."

"On it." Greg hustled to the rear of the SUV to obtain the device.

Listening to Wade when he came back on the line, Spike nodded. "Snap a photo and send it to me. Thanks." He hung up and clenched his hand. "Whoever filed the updated blueprints failed to record the vertical ductwork from when the building was originally built back in the 1940s. Seems like they didn't strip them out, only sealed them off. Heading to the third floor. Meet me there."

As Spike and Greg hurried inside, Jules said, "I'm going to stay here in case he wakes."

"No. I want you out of there," Greg responded. "One down with heat exhaustion is enough."

With reluctance in her tone, Jules replied, "Copy," and began to back out. Her fingers hit something sticky again and she moved the light to check. She sucked in a breath and searched the area closer when she spotted the dark crimson mixed with gooey glue on her hand. "Guys, Sam's bleeding. There is a sharp edge on the opposite side … didn't see it at first. There's a trail of blood down the shaft too, enough that it's got to be a significant cut."

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AN: As promised a quick chapter.

AN2: I wanted to play with and explore the characters a bit differently than in the BOL series so this isn't connected to my previous stories. But it will still have lots of Sam whump ... just a different backstory for him and some changes in his interactions with the team.