A/N: I originally thought that I'd get this chapter posted about a week ago, but school and a bit of writer's block got in the way. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait, but let me know.

Chapter 4

"See if you can find us a way up to the lobby without going through that crowd outside," Sergeant Parker asked Spike, pacing back and forth around the grenade damaged parking garage.

The situation had quickly gone from a fairly straightforward hostage negotiation to a much more complicated series of events, dividing Parker's focus between his team members upstairs pursuing an unknown subject without backup and their teammates in the igloo. He tried to hide his frustration from Spike. He had let his guard down, become a little too comfortable, and now almost his entire team was in jeopardy.

"Well," Spike answered slowly, studying the building layout on the screen in front of him. "The main elevator's blocked behind there," he motioned toward to wall of debris separating them from Sam and Jules. "And I don't think they can get to it either. There's a service elevator not too far from the main elevator which looks like it might be still accessible, but..." He paused as he quickly typed in a new request, pulling up data from the building's maintenance server.

"But what?" Greg questioned impatiently.

"Thought so. Service elevator's jammed at the 12th floor. Subject probably took it, so there's no way we can use it without them noticing. Stairs... stairs, where are the stairs?" Spike pondered, his eyes quickly moving back and forth between the screen and his surroundings.

"There you are!" he suddenly blurted out after a few moments. "The door should be right behind those cars over there," he pointed across the garage. " Looks like there's stairwell access on the main floor just next to the security desk, which is right where Ed and Wordy are right now."

"Pack up. We need to have as much manpower as possible available upstairs," Greg said quickly as his phone buzzed in his pocket. "I don't want them going in without backup."

"Shit," he muttered quietly to himself as he finished reading Jules' text. Sam's down. I'm fine. Comms are dead. "C'mon," he said urgently, starting to help Spike stow the mobile command station equipment. "We need to get this situation neutralized and the building secure ASAP so we can get EMS in here."

As Spike zipped the last gadgets safely in his backpack, Parker typed a message back to Jules as quickly as he could get his thumbs to move across the tiny keys. Hang in there.

"Where is he?" the man yelled at the pretty young woman behind the reception desk.

"He's not here," she answered, trying her best to sound calm. She was glad she was sitting down because her trembling legs probably wouldn't have been able to keep to hold her up if she were standing.

"You'd better not be lying to me. If I find out that you are, there's going to be trouble," the man threatened, opening his jacket just enough for her to see the handle of the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

Her eyes darted back to the duffel bag in his right hand, wondering what was in it and realising that she probably didn't really want to know.

"You know, I'm not sure I believe you," the man mocked her coldly. "He's here, isn't he?"

"He's... he's in a meeting. He said he didn't want to be disturbed," the woman conceded nervously.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" he asked quietly. "Where... is... he?" He got louder with each word.

"I- I- I don't know!" the woman stuttered. "Maybe in one of the offices? Or... maybe the conference room? They move their meetings around."

"Well, if you see him," he said loudly as he moved in the direction of one of the doors towards the inner offices, "tell him an angry client is looking for him and not to go far. None of you want to make me any angrier." He lifted the duffel bag slightly, alluding to its possible contents, before yanking open a door and striding through, slamming the door behind him.

The woman looked across the desk to where another young woman, one of the office assistants, was hiding behind a large potted plant next to the water cooler. "Do you think he saw you?" she asked the assistant quietly.

"No, I'm pretty sure he didn't," she said with some certainty.

"Then get out of here!" the receptionist urged from behind the desk, picking up the phone to call the police but hanging up again quickly in a small panic. "Get security and the police. The phones are dead."

"You don't have to tell me twice," she answered, bolting from behind the plant and running for the door to the stairwell. With the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, she ran down the 12 flights of stairs faster than she thought possible.

She was so focused on getting to the security desk in the lobby that she almost ran into the tall brown haired police officer who had just stepped onto the main floor landing and was reaching for the door handle.

Well, what else are we supposed to do? Jules thought, looking up from the text message her boss had just sent and surveying her surroundings again. There was no way to get both of them out of their current concrete prison, but even if there were, there was no way to tell if it was safer outside or staying where they were.

The explosions seemed to have stopped but the damaged concrete around the igloo was continuing to settle, with occasional pieces falling around them.

She feared for Sam, not knowing anything about what kind of condition he was in or if there was anything she could do to help him.

He looked so peaceful laying there, almost as if he were sleeping, which only added to Jules' anxiety. She knew that if given the choice, he would look focused, maybe even a little angry; peaceful was not a look he did often when they were on a call, generally reserved for moments when he was interacting with distraught victims after they were safely removed from the situation.

"Sam," she said softly, running her free hand through his hair, quietly appealing to whatever part of his brain that may have been aware of her presence.

She let her fingers run free in his short hair while her eyes flicked between his face and her surroundings, trying to stay vigilant. She didn't want to take her hands off of him because despite his lack of response, just the feel of his hand in hers and his hair between her fingers made her feel less alone.

After what felt like an eternity, though it may have been only five minutes or even five seconds, Jules had no idea, she heard it.

"Jules?" he whispered, his eyes still closed. "What happened?"