Chapter Three: Kids for Victories

"Coach Wellstead's not in his office," Ed reported grimly. "I got blood on the desk, blood on the floor. There's signs of a struggle. We may have unauthorized persons in here. We need to sweep the building. Wordy's spotting. Sam?"

"I might have to go up and flank the boss, Ed," came the quick response.

"That's affirmative," Greg agreed. To Ed's relief, his boss sounded calm and in control. "I need Sam with me."

"Jules," Ed called.

"I'm about to sit down with Mrs. Hayward," Jules replied.

Sam piped up, "We could use her intel up here."

"Lou," Ed tried.

"On my way," Lou agreed. "Or I can start sweeping from where I am."

"Start sweeping," Ed decided. "I'll get some uniforms in here to secure the scene and join you in two minutes. Spike, keep your eyes open."

"Copy," Spike acknowledged from his spot in the truck. "Tapping into school cameras to see if I can spot our subjects."

Greg stayed focused on his task, leaving the errant coach to his team. "Carlton, I'm not gonna pretend to understand the pain you're in, but I now understand that Cory did not want to hurt you, that he was forced to."

"I started it," Carlton stated, so matter-of-fact that Greg was forced to hide his wince.

"No, you didn't start it," Greg retorted, "Coach Wellstead started it."

"I'm the one who folded- I stepped to the line, I can't even hit a free throw anymore." Self-disgust rang in Carlton's voice.

"Hey, Carlton, it's windy up here- just take a step back, just please take a step back." Greg was not losing this kid; not a young man that reminded him of his nephew.

"Nothing. No sign," Ed's frustration rang in his voice. "How's it read to you, Lou?"

Lou moved briskly through the halls, down a small set of stairs and started peeking into closed classrooms. His head was on a swivel, scanning for any signs of life or movement. "I don't know, the building's locked down," he replied. "Someone get in to assault the coach, or did he assault someone else?"

"All right, let's keep looking," Ed decided.

As Lou walked down the hallway, his attention was caught by a trophy case. "I got something," he called.

"What do you got, Lou?" Ed questioned.

"I'm at a trophy case, all basketball, and I'm looking at a photo of Doug Saunders," Lou reported.

"The janitor," was Ed's remark.

"Eastern Tech Warriors, 1993. Spike, any flags in the database?"

"No red flags in the database," Spike announced.

"Okay, but this is a familiar uniform," Lou mused. Snapping a picture, he added, "Uploading a picture to your phones."

"Got it," Spike sang out. "I'll start pulling more info, pronto."

With the principal at his side, Ed cornered the janitor, his eyes hard and unyielding.

"I didn't do anything to Wellstead," Saunders protested.

"Then where is he?" Ed demanded. "We know that you played for him, that you didn't make senior squad, and we know that you dropped out, right?"

For a change, the suspect didn't deny Ed's statements. "Yeah, that's right."

"You held a grudge," Ed concluded.

The other man shrugged a little. "I guess so; something like one."

"Did you go see him in his office today?"

"No."

"But you knew what Carlton was going through?"

"No."

"Yeah, you did," Ed countered. "You knew that Cory was being forced to beat him."

"No. No," Saunders protested again. But after a beat, he admitted, "I did, but I didn't- just like everyone else around here."

Ed reared back, confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Whatever it takes to win. Eastern Tech Warriors. Hoo-ah," the janitor replied, his voice flat, the faintest edge of anger breaking through. With a sigh, he revealed, "Every year he-he bonds the team by turning on the weak or the guys that are too strong, guys like Carlton." Angry now, Saunders spat at Principal McKechnie, "And you people turn a blind eye because he gets results." Without missing a beat, Saunders turned back to Ed. "For years, this place has been sacrificing kids for victories. Two decades."

Now it was the principal Ed was turning on; the woman protested, "That's not true. Basketball is out of my sphere."

Incredulous, Ed snapped, "Ma'am if you are in charge, this is your sphere." Dismissing the woman, he turned back to Saunders. "Look, Doug, we're here because someone else is going through what you've been through, and right now he is suicidal."

The anger was gone as Doug Saunders meekly nodded. "I know."

"So tell us what you know so that we can help. You can stop this."

"I only wish I had the guts to do it myself," Saunders replied. "I let Cory in the building, and I gave him the key to the boiler room."

"Okay," Ed acknowledged. "Lou, we have a location." To Saunders, the team leader added, "Come with me. You can help. Come on."

As Ed jogged towards the boiler room, Saunders hurried along behind him. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

Jules sat next to Carlton's mother and little sister. The tear-stricken mother explained, "A recruiter told me to get Carlton into Coach Wellstead's program. The man's a legend. City championships, regional titles, national titles. He landed kids NCAA scholarships. Some of them even made it to the NBA. I pulled every string I could." With a burst of fresh sobs, she concluded, "I pushed my son into his arms."

Jules shook her head. "We all want our loved ones to succeed," she pointed out softly.

The little girl sitting in her mother's arms looked up. In a move that reminded Jules, poignantly, of Alanna, the girl said, "It's okay, Mommy."

Carlton's mother cried, resting her chin on her daughter's head. But after a second, she lifted her head, eyes clear even as they filled with more tears. "Please bring my son down safe."

Lou knelt, examining the black vents outside of the boiler room as Saunders gave the pair a rundown of the boiler room's construction. Gloved hands explored the vents, searching for openings and any way to exploit the one gap in the room's defenses. "It's structural behind the drywall, two feet of poured concrete. The door is steel skin, solid core and barred from the inside."

"No windows at all?" Ed questioned as Lou leaned back on his heels and looked up at Saunders and his teammate. Saunders shook his head.

"It's like a bomb shelter," Lou remarked.

"Can we get eyes in?" Ed asked him.

"Maybe through the vent," Lou offered.

"Let's do it."

"Copy," Lou agreed, pushing himself to his feet and heading for the trucks. "Spike, get the snake cam out for me, please. And maybe we should switch places…if the door has to get taken down, I can bring the charge."

"Got it," Spike confirmed. "I'll get it out and be ready to go when you get here, buddy."

Behind the less-lethal specialist, he heard Ed ask, "Is there a phone in there?"

"Yeah," the janitor replied.

Lou grinned, just a little. They had a plan…now they just had to keep moving forward. One thing was for sure, though, the coach's days of sacrificing kids for basketball games were over.