Chapter 8

It seemed as if the darkness swallowed up anything either of them wanted to say, but it was only an excuse for the chasm of time that caused Sam to stand his ground and wait. A dim emergency light flickered to life behind a frosted panel over their heads, and their eyes adjusted.

The Senior Axe cleared his throat and asked, "So, what do we do now?"

Sam was grateful that his father hadn't panicked. He was as cool as could be, as if this was just a minor glitch in his day that would soon rectify itself. Sam looked around and found no way to get out. He hated modern elevators. The designers counted on the people inside waiting for rescue, and he just wasn't that kind of guy. Realizing that he had no choice, Sam reached for the small door under the control panel and retrieved the phone receiver inside.

"Yeah, we're stuck in the elevator, I think between the fourth and third floors... the Darabant Hotel... no, nobody's injured. It's just a little stuffy in here, and there's two of us, so we'd like to get out of here ASAP, okay?" With a sigh, Sam hung up the phone and announced. "They're working on it." The elder man chuckled, crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall, irritating Sam. "What's so funny?"

"You, Sammy. You can't stand to be stuck in an elevator with me. Do you really hate me that much?"

"There are plenty other people I'd hate being stuck with even more. You don't even make the top ten, so don't get all giddy about it." He sighed again and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. "Might as well make ourselves comfortable. It'll be awhile if the Miami Fire Department has to come rescue us."

"Hopefully it'll just be an electrical issue that's easily resolved and we'll be moving again soon," Axe the Senior offered. He stood for a few minutes still leaning against the wall, but as the silence deepened and the stuffiness in the car rose, he decided it was best to join his son on the floor. "Until this incident, I was ready to give your wife five stars for her hotel."

"She's not my wife, Dad. Not yet anyway."

"Oh yes, that's right. I forgot about that. Whatever happened to what's her name? Amanda?"

The name was like a burr under Sam's skin. Too much pain and heartache associated with it led him into too many beers and mojitos, even after everything had been tied up in a neat bow and he was through with her.

"I'd rather not talk about her," Sam ground out as he stretched one leg out and rested his arm on a knee. He tilted his head back against the panel wall. "'Cause then we'd have to talk about you and Mom. Care to have that conversation?" He smirked at his father, and when there was no quick answer, he said, "I didn't think so. Don't mess with me, or you will be sorry."

Axe the Senior released a long, heavy sigh. This wasn't going at all like he hoped. First of all, he didn't plan on being trapped with his son in an elevator. Second, he didn't intend to incite him with the memory of his ex-wife. He only saw the end of the tunnel where they reunited and forgave all those years, but the execution of how to get there had been murky all this time. Maybe he avoided pondering it because he knew all along that the guilt was on his shoulders to confess. Sam had good reason to be angry with him, because he was an innocent victim along with his mother.

"Son... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up. I mean, it's not like what I did. From what I understand, Amanda left you. I abandoned your mother and you." He paused when Sam's eyes slid up to study him. "I loved you both, but I was selfish and thought I found something better."

"So you ran off, dumped us like trash, and wiped your hands clean of us," Sam responded, the long-delayed pain coursing through his center and seeming to leak through every pore as he began to sweat in the warm confines. "Was she worth it?"

"No. She dumped me within six months." Sam Senior expelled a breath. "It was too late to go home then. I paid dearly for my mistake."

"Oh boohoo, you weren't the one left behind," Sam snapped. "You weren't the one who had to get a part time job and go to school to help Mom because that paltry alimony you gave her, that filthy blood money, wasn't enough to get us through." Sam felt like a cork had popped, and everything burst out of him without abandon. He wanted his father to know exactly what he'd done to his family by deserting them.

"She could have asked for more," he offered.

"She was too ashamed, constantly asking what she did wrong. Everyone thought you guys had the perfect marriage and then all of a sudden it was over. All her friends were stunned. She stopped seeing them because every time she'd go to the card parties they'd sit and talk about it. They might as well have slashed her with a knife, because that's how much it hurt. Every time." Sam paused, attempting to regain his composure with a swipe of his hand over his face.

"I didn't know."

"No, you didn't because you never bothered to find out," Sam retorted with a rising voice. "We struggled, Mom isolated herself, and I worked my ass off going to school, working, and playing football. You know... of course you wouldn't... I almost gave up football because you were always so proud of me, and I didn't want that. I didn't want to do anything that would make you happy." He swallowed. "But I didn't let myself fall into that trap, like Mom. I played for me, because I knew I had an opportunity to go to college and be something a hell of a lot better than my old man."

Tears stung the back of Sam's eyes. He rested his head against the wall again and waited for the memories to retreat to the recess where he'd kept them barricaded all his life. He half expected his father to say something to defend himself, but silence rained down on them.

Finally, his father spoke. "I don't blame you for being angry, Son. I readily admit that leaving your mother was wrong and selfish, and I understand that it hurt both of you deeply. I just... I just don't know what to say to alleviate some of the pain."

"There's nothing you can do. What's done is done." Sam turned his head to examine the panel housing the phone. It seemed like hours had passed. Where was the rescue they needed? He snorted. "Waiting for help is kind of a funny metaphor for what happened with Mom and me. You left us floundering, trying to figure out how to make it, to save ourselves. Like we sit now, trying to figure out how to save ourselves from this, whatever it is. Only we can't. Like Mom and I, we couldn't get out. Sure, my income helped, but things were really lean."

"I..."

Sam held up a hand to stop him. "Thank God I earned that scholarship. After I got out of school and joined the Navy, I sent home what I could." The corner of his mouth tipped up. "When I became a SEAL and got extra hazard pay, I'd send that home. She was always grateful but always worried about my safety because I was all she had." The memories began to close up his throat, but he managed to speak despite the obstacle. "Then she got sick, and I was half way around the world in the middle of a mission that I couldn't just drop and be there before she passed. I guess I just ran away and abandoned her, like you did us."

"Sammy, all children grow up and leave eventually. You can't blame yourself for not being there for her all the time. You had a life to live, a career..."

"I could have gone to school closer to home and done something else. I could have earned a degree that would have gotten me a job close to home. Only I didn't. I thought about myself and what I wanted." Sam let out a breath. "Thanks for teaching me that lesson, Dad."

The words stuck into the senior Axe like shards of broken glass, and he winced at the delivery. "I'm sorry. That's all I can say. If I could go back and change how your life turned out I would, but I can't do that."

"I know." Sam sounded defeated, as if emptying his soul of all the hurt and anger had drained him. It felt good to get it off his chest finally. But in the end it didn't change anything. Maybe it took a burden off of him, but that was about it.

"I suppose my example also had something to do with your womanizing ways," his father said.

"How do you know so much about me," Sam asked, his voice on edge.

Smiling, the older man replied, "Believe it or not, I've kept track of you all these years. I followed your successes on the football field. I was so happy for you when you got that scholarship and graduated. I envied you, even, because you had a world of opportunities that I could only dream of." He shifted his position and sat away from the wall and a little closer to Sam. "It was a lot more difficult to keep tabs on you when you were in the Navy, especially when you were on the SEAL team, but I moved to Washington for work and made some friends who knew things. They kept it on the down-low and didn't give me many details, but at least I knew you were doing honorable things." He sighed. "That's where you're different from me."

"Not everything I did was honorable, Dad."

"I'm sure. Like the women..."

"Oh please, don't start with that. It's not like you're innocent in that regard." Sam snorted and gathered up his legs, bringing them close, prepared to stand his ground if necessary.

"Neither of us is. Sammy, after I left your mother and Rachelle left me, I wasted a lot of time and money on women and drinking." He lowered his head, then got up the courage to look Sam in the eyes. "I feel most responsible for that. I not only hurt you, I showed you a bad example of how a man treats a woman. I wasn't looking for love, just a good time, and I left behind a lot of broken hearts. I'm not proud of that and I doubt you are in your case, either."

"It wasn't just about using women. Not for me, anyway." Sam tried not to think about it, but now it was in the open and he had to come clean. "I was honestly looking for love. Mom loved me, but after you left, there was a tiny wedge between us. I didn't even know what it was, I just knew that she'd distanced herself a little. I tried so hard to please her, to make her love me like she used to, but she was incapable. Maybe it was her way of coping. I don't know." He blinked, afraid he would start crying in front of his father. He couldn't, wouldn't, do that. He'd exposed himself enough.

"So you were looking for the devotion that you missed," the older man deduced and nodded. "That makes sense, since you've obviously found what you were looking for at long last."

"Yes. I was looking for love and security. That's why I picked rich women, but they were divorced or widowed. Whenever I found one who was married, I thought of Mom and broke it off right away." He swept away another bad memory from his mind. "Elsa and I started out, and it was crazy. At the time I was just looking for someone who could help me blow off some steam. I wasn't looking for commitment. She was obscenely rich, widowed, and had a voracious appetite for..." He cleared his throat.

His father chuckled. "No explanation necessary. So you fell into bed with her and took advantage of everything she had to offer. Been there, done that."

"Yeah. She called me her 'Boy Toy', and I called her 'Big Momma'," Sam continued. "But somewhere along the line, when she started helping me and my friends bankroll some of the things we were doing, I got her into the loop of what as going on, and our relationship changed. I started trusting her more than I've trusted any of the others, and she opened up to me. It was a beautiful thing." His narrative ended on a whisper.

"You fell in love for real this time?"

Sam nodded, and his voice softened. The hostility from earlier was gone, and instead he dwelt on the goodness of Elsa and her love. He talked about her and how much she meant to him, how he sometimes held her through his sleepless night because he was afraid she would disappear. He revealed how he almost lost her several times, and how on one mission he'd almost died without her ever knowing how he felt.

"When I was zip tied to that pole and Rebecca was looking for a way out, I didn't think I was making that trip with her. I thought she was done with me and she'd kill me. So I called Elsa. If Rebecca found out, she would probably kill me for sure, but I had to take the chance. I got Elsa's voicemail and left a message, and I prayed that I would get another opportunity to tell her I loved her to her face."

After Sam spent himself telling his story about Elsa and him, he sat hugging his knees and sweating. They'd been there long enough for the heat inside the car to become almost unbearable.

"That's a beautiful story, Sammy. And I'm glad that you've finally found the right woman. Now if only I could be so lucky."

The corner of Sam's mouth twitched up as he said, "You're in the right state, Dad. Lots of single old ladies around here."

His father laughed, his baritone booming in the small space. "I only came down here to see you." He sobered and continued. "I couldn't live with myself anymore, knowing how much I'd hurt you, and now I realize that the damage was much worse than I suspected. But you're healing, and I want to do the same. If you'll let me."

"I don't understand. What can I do for you?" Sam stared at him.

"Be my son again."

Such a simple request on the surface, but with so many painful undercurrents, it might not be so easy. "Why?"

"Because maybe a part of you might miss our relationship?" The old man's eyebrow rose along with a hopeful smile.

"I'll have to think about it," Sam replied.

"I know it'll be different. This time I won't have to get on you for taking the five-fingered discount on that Red Ryder gun."

Despite himself, Sam let out a soft chuckle. "Don't worry, Dad, I've perfected stealth. But I only do it when necessary."

Laughing, the older man said, "I'll bet you could teach me a few things with you and your friends doing all those spy things."

"Yeah. Speaking of, I think it's time I try to call Mike. Obviously we're not getting any help from out there." He picked his phone from his pocket. "Oh good, I'm getting some bars." He hit the speed dial and waited. "Hey, Mikey, it's me... yeah, I'm fine, my Dad is fine." He listened a moment and chuckled. "Yeah, of all the dumb luck, we wind up stuck on an elevator together, but, uh, it's not so bad." He glanced at his father as he reported, "We managed to clear some air a bit. But it's getting too damn stuffy in here, and if someone doesn't rescue us soon, I don't know what's gonna happen."

After a little exchange, Sam hung up and put the phone back into his pocket. His father, anxious for some good news, asked, "Well? What did your friend say?"

"This is more than just a mechanical failure," Sam replied. "The motor that runs the pulley system is on fire, so they're concentrating on getting that out before they try to rescue us."

"But... but won't we fall?" Fear was in the senior Axe's eyes.

"There are brakes on this thing, so as long as those don't fail, we'll be fine. Mike told me that the car is between the second and third floors, not the third and fourth, so if we do fall, it won't be that catastrophic."

"Oh, that makes me feel a lot better."

Sam snorted. "Well, now you know what my life is like a good part of the time. At least when I'm working with Michael Westen."

After another hour, the two men heard noises coming from above the elevator car. Muffled voices mixed with banging and clanging. Then one voice came through loud but echoing in the shaft.

"Sam? Sam, it's Michael. The fire department is here and they're working to get you out. Just sit tight both of you and they should have this done soon."

In response, Sam banged a fist twice on the side of the car, and the sound rumbled up the shaft. He got to his feet and smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt. "Well, this is it. They'll have us out soon."

"Yes." His father stood beside him, his eyes even with his son's but slightly below. "What happens after this?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm really ready for that swim. Then we'll all go to Carlito's for some drinks and dinner, and just enjoy freedom." He smiled in pleasure. It dimmed a shade when he turned to his father and asked, "Would you like to join us?"

"I don't want to intrude."

Sam shook his head. "It wouldn't be an intrusion. If you want to be a part of my life again, meeting my friends and hanging out with them is a pre-requisite. You're better off finding out now if you can't handle them."

His father laughed and smiled, the first warm expression he'd shown his son in years. He braved placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Is it presumptuous of me to think that this means I'm forgiven?"

"I don't know if you're quite forgiven yet. I'm working on it, though." Sam's eyes crinkled with a thin smile. "Let's see how it goes."

"Sounds like a good idea to me." His grip on Sam's shoulder tightened as the floor appeared to drop out from under them and they left their stomachs between the third and second floors. "Sammy!"

"Hang on!" Sam dropped to the floor and held onto the rail, and his father did the same on the opposite side of the car.

Metal screeched as the emergency brakes kicked in and the momentum slowed. It didn't stop, however, until the car landed at the bottom of the shaft with a deafening bang that shook it and the occupants. The aftershock caused Sam Senior to bash his head against the flat wide rail. The lights were out again and the two sat in pitch blackness.

Breathing heavy, Sam asked, "Dad, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah, just knocked my noggin a bit. What about you?"

Sam shifted and stood. "I'm fine. We must be at the bottom." He felt along the wall until he found the doors. He tried to pry them open. "Crap, these doors are really stuck. Mind helping me?"

"No problem." He stood and used his hands and the sound of his son's voice to find the door. He touched Sam's back, then slipped to his left. "Okay, I'm here. Let's do this."

The men wedged their fingers into the narrow seam between the doors and each pulled a door away from the other. It took a lot of strength, but they managed to pull them apart. "We did it, Son!"

"Yeah, but there's another door here, and we're below it by a few feet. It's going to take some leverage to get them open."

"How about if we can loosen one of these rails, we stick that in between the doors and pry them open?" Instead of being afraid, the elder Axe felt a rush of excitement as he worked through this problem with his son. He had a feeling this was old hat to Sam, but for him, it was a novelty.

"The metal is probably too soft, and we might do more damage to it trying to rip it off the wall. Let me think a minute." A few seconds later he snapped his fingers. "We can still try to use one of the rails, only if we can reach the mechanism that opens the doors. If we push on it just right, it might open."

"Sam?"

"It's Mike again." Sam addressed his friend, "Yeah, Mike, we're okay! We've got the car door open, but the door on your end is still closed."

"Yeah, they're working on that. Just hang on."

Light streamed through the three foot gap between the floor and the top of the open elevator car door when the rescuers pried open the outer doors The men inside shielded their eyes from its brightness, although it was only from the fluorescent lights in the maintenance hallway in the basement.

"It's great to see you, Sam," Michael grinned and held out a hand.

"You too, Mikey. Hey, why don't you go first, Dad. I'll help from here." He bent at the waist and created a step with his two hands. "Come on. Mike'll get you from above."

"Thank you, Son." He stepped into Sam's hands and grabbed onto the floor above to pull himself up. Michael grabbed onto him and assisted him in threading his body through the narrow exit.

Sam gripped the floor and used the railing to help boost himself out of the car. Michael pulled on him and helped him to his feet. Maintenance and rescue personnel stood nearby discussing the accident and looking for a cause for the brake failure, but the three men were oblivious. Michael looked Sam in the eye and on an impulse took him into his arms and hugged him.

"When Fi called me and told me you were stuck in the elevator and there was no good way out, I came right over. I was hoping we could avoid this." He swept a hand across the scene. "Why didn't you try to get out?"

"I wanted to, but... well, Dad and I wound up having an interesting discussion," Sam answered with a smile. "Mikey, this is my Dad, Sam Axe Senior. Dad, this is my best friend Michael Westen."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Michael." He gave Sam a sidelong glance. "So this is the fella who's gotten you into so much trouble over the years, huh Sammy?"

Laughing, Sam replied, "I've gotten myself into plenty of trouble without his help. But yeah, this is the guy." He looked around and asked, "Where are Fi and Elsa?"

"In the lobby. I told Elsa to stay up there because I didn't want her to have to see if things went bad. Fiona stayed with her even though she wanted to come down here and help."

A warm, satisfied smile stretched across Sam's face. "Good old Fi. She's another person I can can always count on." The smile wiped away when he realized what he was implying, and even if it had been true, hopefully things would be different now between him and his father. "Say, why don't we just go to Carlito's now and skip the pool?"

"You want to go to Carlito's," Michael asked. "You almost got killed, and you want to go drink."

"What better time, Michael," Sam Senior exclaimed. "We've gotta celebrate surviving, and Sammy and I still have a lot of catching up to do." His eyes lit on his son's. "A lot of years to review and get over, so we can start again."

"That's right," Sam agreed. "So let's go. Good thing we're not underdressed, because I don't know about you, Dad, but I'm not exactly eager to go up the elevator just to change."

"Me neither, Sammy." He grinned at Michael. "Well, let's go. I'm eager to meet your girlfriend and get to know all of you."

Michael gave Sam a look as his father led the way to the stairs that would take them to the lobby. Sam shrugged and by his expression told Michael that something miraculous happened in that elevator. The two men didn't just survive. All the years of animosity were peeling away, leaving something shiny and new behind. Michael smiled and clamped a hand on his friend's shoulder. He was glad that Sam had this golden opportunity, because he would never be so lucky.

The last thing Michael's father said to him was, "I'll see you in hell, boy." Michael hoped that some day he would meet him again, only in some place a little more pleasant. Until then, he would do his best to help Sam and his father restore their relationship so that all those years ago would disappear and become meaningless.

Thank you to everyone who was patient with me. Sorry it took so long to finish; that's not normally how I work. As I was writing this story, it started going in a direction I didn't want it to go, but I couldn't figure out how to fix it. A month away put me on a different direction, and I hope that the end result was worth the wait!