Author's Note: I finally got them through the crisis! I was going for tense rather than action-packed in this chapter, so I hope it works okay. I was pretty damn tense writing it, anyway. :D Please let me know what you think! And yes, there is likely to be medical inaccuracy in this chapter, but I kinda don't care. :p
The maintenance elevator seemed to take an eternity to descend to the sub-basement. Jane fidgeted, her fear for Roman increasing with every foot the elevator travelled. He'd been silent through the comms since they'd been marching Shepherd to the car, and that must have been close to ten minutes ago. He could easily be dead if his injuries were severe enough.
When the elevator doors opened, the paramedics froze, gasping at the sight of the huge bomb placed by the support pillar nearby, and the bodies of the four Sandstorm recruits Roman had killed. "It's okay," Jane reassured them. "It's not active. My brother, the one we're here to find, he tampered with the bomb in advance."
"If you say so," the older paramedic, who looked to be in her fifties, said dubiously.
"I swear. Roman!" she called, knowing it was futile, but unable to help herself.
She took the lead, searching the dusty, grimy space as the paramedics took the pulses of the Sandstorm members' bodies. As she caught sight of a familiar boot protruding from around the other side of a pillar, her breath seized.
"Over here," she called, and sprinted to her brother's side. "Roman, I'm here."
He was unconscious, sitting upright against the pillar, his khaki shirt saturated with blood. His lips were pale, his breathing undetectable to her gaze, and she sobbed, checking for a pulse as she pulled up his shirt. He'd been shot in the left side of his abdomen, though she couldn't remember which side was more dangerous. His pulse against her fingers was faint and erratic, scaring the hell out of her.
Oh, god. 'Struggling a little', Roman? This is what you call 'a little'?
The paramedic team gently manoeuvred her aside, snapping into practised action as they confirmed Roman was alive, assessed his injury and carefully moved him to lie flat on the ground. They checked his airway, staunched the blood flow as best they could, and fitted him with an oxygen mask. Then, carefully, they transferred him to the stretcher they'd brought.
Jane knelt nearby, helpless and useless, as her only blood relative was prepared for transit to the hospital, knowing the prognosis was likely to be fifty-fifty, if that. He was so pale and lifeless, the pool of blood where he'd been sitting a dire reminder that he'd already bled far too much.
As the paramedics raised the stretcher on its wheeled frame, Jane lurched to her feet as well. They headed back to the elevator at a fast pace, the urgency of Roman's situation clear on the faces of the medical professionals.
"Will he make it?" Jane asked, as the elevator car began to rise.
"Hard to say right now. He has a chance. We'll take him to Mount Sinai. Do you want to ride in the ambulance with us?"
Jane opened her mouth to answer in the affirmative, but then remembered the ruins of SIOC, and reality hit her. They still had Shepherd's missile to stop, and Roman would be on the operating table when he got to the hospital, out of her reach. If they couldn't stop the attack, she wanted to be with Kurt, not stuck on her own in a hospital waiting room as the nuclear fallout hit.
Quickly, she reached into the right-hand pocket of his pants, where she'd seen him slip his coin earlier. She wanted him to keep it on him, for luck, but she was afraid the hospital would strip him down, and the coin would fall out of his pocket and get lost. It just looked like any other low-value coin, though it wasn't US currency.
The paramedics were giving her odd looks, but she didn't care. They didn't know. They wouldn't understand.
"No, get him to the hospital. I'll join him there later. Please, don't let him die." She touched her brother's expressionless face for a brief moment, then stepped aside as they left the elevator, fighting tears.
The paramedics spirited him away before she could react further, joining a second team of paramedics with a patient on an identical stretcher inside the main elevator. Sickened, Jane realised the other man was Director Pellington, and he seemed to be doing about as well as Roman was.
She skirted the crime scene tape to move around the edges of SIOC, her thoughts racing incoherently, contradicting each other when they did form actual ideas. I should be with Roman. I should be with Kurt. I have to stop this attack. There's nothing I can do—it's out of my hands!
Jane tried to anchor herself, holding tightly to the coin she'd taken from Roman, attempting to stave off a panic attack. But she felt her composure slip away as her eyes met Parker's lifeless gaze. Had he been the one who'd shot Pellington?
Oh, god, how many more people are injured or dead because I trained them to raid this place so effectively? This is all my fault. I had weeks to find the truth. I should have done more. I…
One of the Bureau medics, whom she vaguely recognised, emerged from the conference room and noticed her. "Hey, you don't look good. Come on, slow your breathing, that's it."
Jane attempted to breathe slowly and deeply, her tactical vest suddenly seeming to weigh a couple of hundred pounds. She tore at the straps fastening it to her body, and the medic helped her pull it off over her head.
A minute later, she was more in control, and shot the guy a quick, forced smile. "Thanks. I should go check in with my team."
"Take it easy," he responded, but she was already striding towards Patterson's lab, where she predicted Kurt might be. Her lungs were burning from the brief panic attack, and she was shaking, but she was determined to get through the immediate crisis, and offer what assistance she could.
Had it been thirty minutes since Shepherd had initiated the missile strike yet? Jane had no phone or watch, and even if she looked at a clock, she wouldn't know how much time had passed since she'd gone down to the sub-basement. Either the threat was neutralised by now, or they were all running out of time.
Ten minutes earlier…
As Kurt used his keycard to enter Zero Division, Patterson caught up to him. "Hey—the spoof beacon's all set up. It'll keep trying to reach the missile, but the original signal is still interfering for now. Heard you say you were gonna try Borden again. Thought you might need me here, too."
"Right. He'd have to be suicidal to hold out on us now, but you never know." They made for Borden's cell.
Borden got to his feet uncertainly, his features becoming alarmed at their stressed appearance. "What's happened?"
"We got Shepherd, but not before she triggered the missile strike, and our people in DC can't find the beacon. We have fifteen minutes or less," Kurt summed up.
The blood drained from Borden's face. "What do you need?"
"Is there anywhere you can think Shepherd would tell her people to hide the beacon? Anywhere law enforcement wouldn't think to look?" Patterson asked.
Borden paced away from the cell partition, agitated. "I don't know, I, um…"
Kurt forced himself not to rush the therapist, though he was so tense that his shoulders ached. Come on… Come on…
"It's a long shot, but when he was a child, Roman used to hide things under a loose floorboard in his bedroom. He still does, to this day. Shepherd's always been amused by that. Maybe she told her people to do the same to the beacon."
Kurt dialled Zapata.
"Anything?" she said, wasting no time on greetings.
"The only place Borden can think to direct you is under the floorboards."
Zapata groaned. "Weller, there are a lot of floorboards in this house, and I don't have a fucking chainsaw handy!"
"Start in the bedrooms. A kids' bedroom, if one is decorated that way. The floorboard you're looking for should already be loose. But this is a long shot. Have some of you keep searching more conventional places, too."
The line went dead.
"I'll stay here, in case anything more comes to him. You should get back to your lab; look over your code again, in case there's a problem," Kurt said to Patterson.
"Will do. I, uh, I got an accurate time of impact from the satellite's launch data. I sent the timer to your phone. If we get past the point of no return before they find the beacon, we'll have about ninety seconds until…the end. I know it's not much time, but I thought I'd let you know…so you can try to go to Jane." She touched his arm on her way past, and in that small gesture, he read a 'goodbye, just in case' that gave him another flare of anxiety.
He was failing his people. Failing the country he'd sworn an oath to protect. And all he could do was stand here with a damn terrorist, hoping Reade and Zapata could pull off a miracle, while Jane tried to stop her brother from bleeding out, and his agents waited for him to explain why they'd had to weather an attack on SIOC without him earlier today.
"Thank you for staying," Borden said, breaking the silence. "Being alone right now would be—"
"I didn't stay to keep you company," Kurt snarled. "I stayed because I'm waiting to see if you can think up other locations. So start thinking."
Borden nodded and lapsed into silence, sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.
Kurt's phone rang. "Could I get an update?" Nas asked, an edge to her tone.
He'd completely forgotten about her. Presumably, she was trying to get more information about the beacon out of Shepherd, even knowing it would be futile. "Patterson can redirect the missile if they destroy the beacon, but Reade and Zapata still can't find it. I'm with Borden to see if he can remember anything. Jane took the paramedics down to Roman; I can't call her because her phone is at my apartment, so your guess is as good as mine if he's okay. Shepherd?"
"In a holding cell. She's not talking, not even when I work the parental angle." Nas sighed. "The EMP I was trying to source came up a dead end. They found one with a large enough radius, but it's thirty-five minutes' journey from the target location."
Kurt closed his eyes. "Thanks for trying, Nas."
"I hate being powerless," she confessed, the same frustration and fear in her voice as he felt. "All of these deaths, the injuries, the trauma—maybe for nothing?"
He knew exactly what she meant. "Patterson says we'll have about ninety seconds between the point of no return and detonation. If it comes to that, I'll let you know…so you can call someone you love and tell them goodbye."
"Thank you. I-I appreciate that," she said, sounding taken aback, and hung up.
Kurt stared into space as the seconds ticked away, the phone in his hand silent and still. He wanted to call Jane so badly that his chest ached, but Shepherd hadn't allowed her to have a phone while she was undercover.
Less than eight minutes until the cut-off point.
He took off his tactical vest, feeling as though he couldn't get enough air, then leaned against the wall. If it came to it, he could call Sarah on his way to Jane. At least she'd be out of the blast radius, and out of reach of the fallout. His sister and nephew were the only two people he cared about who would make it out of this alive, since they were in Portland.
Goddamn it, this can't be the end. Jane and I have been through so much to get here. The whole team has suffered. Mayfair died for this. We can't just let this happen, but there's nothing—nothing—more that I can do.
The seconds on the timer Patterson had sent him moved as slowly as treacle, yet every time another minute ticked away, his stomach sank a little more.
Is this really how it ends? Is Jane even still here? Did she go to the hospital with Roman? He swallowed hard at the thought that he might not even get to say goodbye. It would be unlikely that he'd get to her within ninety seconds even if she were in the sub-basement—if she'd left the building, there was no chance.
Two minutes until Patterson's code would be unable to do anything to stop the attack.
At least I found Taylor. As painful as it was, I got closure for her death. And Jane taught me how to open up, let my team in. I'm proud to call them my friends. Patterson. Reade. Zapata. Even Nas, in a strange way.
Jane. I wanted so much more time with her—
His phone display flashed with Reade's name, and his heart leapt, his hand clumsy as he answered the call. "Reade?"
"He was right. We found it; we destroyed it! Please tell me that was enough to stop this thing?"
"Call Patterson," Kurt said, and hung up. If there was more she needed them to do, talking to him would only waste time.
"What—?" Borden asked.
"If you're not dead in three and a half minutes, we stopped it," he said abruptly, and yanked open the door.
With a quick text to Nas on the way, he headed for the lab, hope and anxiety scrambling his brain.
"Patterson," he started as he reached the doorway—then shut up as he moved to her side. The scene in the lab gave him the answer to his unspoken question.
The timer on Patterson's screen was counting down from thirty-eight seconds, and her lab was full—agents, administration staff and lab technicians were clustered around, all watching quietly. One lab tech was praying under his breath in Arabic. An admin assistant was holding a rosary, her lips moving silently and her eyes closed.
Jane was with Patterson, pale and tense. Somewhere along the way, she'd stripped off her tactical vest, too, and her hands were bloodstained.
"Jane," he murmured, reaching her side, and she immediately leaned into him, not saying a word.
"Roman?" he murmured, wrapping his arms around her. Her warmth seeped through his shirt, and even though they were seconds away from being unable to prevent a major nuclear attack, he took comfort from her presence.
"They won't know until they get him on the table." She spoke into his shoulder, her voice trembling a little. "They said he has a chance."
He squeezed her more tightly as she trailed off, then released her enough that they could both turn their heads to watch the timer, their arms still around each other.
Even if it all goes to hell…at least we have each other in these last few minutes.
"Come on, come on, come on," Patterson whispered, her hands clasped together over her heart.
"Patterson…?" Zapata said through the speakerphone connection, her voice uncertain.
Nineteen seconds. Eighteen.
Nas moved up beside them, wrapping her arms around herself as though to protect herself from their impending demise.
"I threw it in a glass of water, just to make sure," Reade said. "Unless this thing's waterproof, snap-proof and impact-proof, it's dead."
Twelve seconds. Eleven. Ten.
"Oh, please," Patterson whispered, a hitch in her breathing. "Please, please, please…"
Please, Kurt's own thoughts echoed, though he was unsure if he was directing them at a deity, the universe…or if he was just personifying Patterson's damn program as something that would listen to their entreaties. After everything we've been through, we need this.
Seven seconds. Six. Five.
Someone sobbed behind him. Kurt kissed the top of Jane's head without tearing his eyes from the screen, unsure if he was offering reassurance to her, or taking it from her. Jane took a shuddering breath, her body as tense as marble in his arms.
A box with green text flashed up onscreen. CONNECTION ESTABLISHED.
"Yes!" someone cried jubilantly, just as Kurt realised what the message signified, and Jane sagged against him in relief. Patterson gave a stunned whoop of triumph, her fist punched high in the air, then turned to grin at the assembled audience.
The lab became a babble of thankful chatter and applause as Kurt hugged Jane tightly, laughing with sheer relief, his eyes still glued to the screen as though he expected the result to reverse itself at any moment.
The timer had stopped with three seconds to go.
That was too damn close.
"Nice work, Patterson," Kurt said, releasing Jane to give their friend a hug. Patterson was trembling, and he didn't blame her.
"I owe you a drink," Reade chimed in.
"Screw that. I owe you ten drinks," Zapata said, laughing breathlessly.
"Couldn't have done it without you guys," Patterson said, grinning. "And I do mean that literally."
She turned to Jane. "It's so good to see you. Sorry your welcome was a little delayed."
Jane gave her a quick hug. "It was worth waiting for you to save the lives of a few million people."
"Jane's there?" Zapata said over the line. "Hi, Jane! Glad you're home safe!"
"Ditto," Reade said. "See you when you get home. Drinks for you, too."
"I'll hold you to that," Jane said, smiling. "And I think we owe you a few, as well."
"Zapata, Reade," Kurt addressed them. "Nice work. Get back home, so we can all celebrate properly."
"I'll drink to that," Reade joked.
Zapata snickered. "Not as much as Patterson will."
As other people gathered around to offer thanks and compliments to Patterson, Kurt stepped back. Jane and Nas followed him, and he drew Jane against his side again, still unable to believe she was here.
"Well, that was bracing," Nas said, relief in her dark eyes. "Hard to believe it's only noon. Jane, well done. I know Patterson's the woman of the hour, but you and Roman were the ones who gave us the advance warning about everything, so…thank you. You made this mission a success."
"Thanks, Nas." Jane tried a smile, but the mention of Roman had obviously taken her thoughts back to her brother.
"Do you want to go to the hospital?" Kurt asked gently. "I'm gonna have to stay here and take care of the aftermath, especially since Pellington's out of action, but there's no reason you can't go."
She shook her head, surprising him. "The paramedics said he'd go to surgery as soon as they got him to the hospital, and it's an abdominal shot, so it'll be hours yet. I…I don't want to go to the hospital alone, not if I can't do anything but sit around and wait for news."
"Okay. Whatever you need." Kurt kissed her forehead gently.
"The paramedics said they'd notify me if he…if he died on the way there, but I should call the hospital now we know we're safe. Make sure they have my contact details."
"Does he have insurance?" Kurt asked, his mind skipping ahead to the inevitable hospital administration.
Jane gave a bleak shrug. "I doubt it, not under his own name. Shepherd kept us out of digital systems. Maybe under a fake name, but I don't know if he can legally use that."
Nas patted her shoulder kindly. "He got shot helping to save the country from a major terror attack, and provided the bulk of the information we needed to stop it. Register him as uninsured for now, and I'll see if I can pull some strings to get his medical bills covered."
"Thanks, Nas," Jane murmured gratefully.
As Nas moved away, Kurt looked down at Jane, his heart aching at how weary and detached from everything she looked. "You call the hospital, and I'll meet you in Zero Division when I've made sure everyone knows what their next steps are. Okay?"
She nodded, reaching up to touch his cheek with an attempt at a smile, then headed for the door.
Kurt resisted the urge to just drive them back to their apartment right now, lock the door, and pretend the outside world didn't exist. Instead, he turned towards the gathered personnel, all still processing the fact that they wouldn't be dying today.
At times like these, being the boss was the last thing he wanted. But until he could delegate the tasks that needed to be done, he had to keep on top of everything, the way Mayfair would have.