He had no idea just where he was but he knew that he was moving -- a curiously disorientating feeling considering he was lying down. Several sensations, none of them pleasant, transmitted themselves to his waking brain in a split second of overload.....

 

Ezra couldn’t help think... ‘Damn this hurts,’

 

JD cursed again.  Gawd Ezra weighed a ton.  How did Josiah ever manage to haul his butt around when time had called for it in the past?   With a burning side and choking, spasming throat JD dragged Standish down the flight of steps.   He didn’t have the lung compacity nor the strength to lift the undercover agent.  Besides with Ezra’s hands cuffed behind his back JD didn’t think he could gain any leverage and lift his partner up.

 

Through the smoke and the heat JD struggled to haul his burden toward the nearest exit.   The young agent kept his nose and mouth tucked into the crook of his shoulder as he backed his way down the steps.  Standish followed with a resounding thump...thump...thump.....

 

JD was not sure what had happened.  One minute he and Ezra had been checking the upper offices of the crumbling office building and the next JD had found himself alone.  The electricity to the building had been cut long before they got there and the electric company still fought to get the switches and circuits to cooperate. 

 

Where the smoke and fire came from was a complete mystery but the explosion from across the building had been a definite clue. 

 

When JD had turned to ask Ezra where they should check next Dunne had found himself all alone. 

Where the Hell had Ezra gotten off too? 

 

The Computer expert then backtracked his steps peeking his head into long deserted offices checking for the missing agent.  The thin beam of his flashlight had sliced through the shifting greys of deep long shadows.  It had cut a swath through the milky blackness dancing across overturned furniture hastily closed draws and littered floors.  It was the third office from the stairs that he had found Ezra.

 

The flashlight beam did not land on him.  No such luck.  JD had peered around the corner of the office shining the light at waist level cutting back the darkness with the narrow beam.  When he had stepped forward he tripped into feet.  There laying on his belly with his hands cuffed behind his back had lain Standish. 

 

“Oh Shit,” JD had knelt beside the undercover agent and quickly felt for a pulse.  He found one immediately.  Standish had groaned in response and shifted a foot but had failed to waken. 

 

“Easy Ez...yer gonna be alright,”  JD used his light to search the room, desperate to make sure a threat did not lurk too close in the camouflage of the dark recesses of the room.  As the light splayed haphazardly around the room two things had happened simultaneously.

 

A loud explosion had split the air rattling the very foundation of the building with bone shattering intensity....and a body flew from a dark corner into Dunne and out the door.   The flashlight sailed from the agent’s hand out the office and over the railing down to the main floor.

 

JD scrambled to his feet shouting, “Federal Agent,”  but the silhouette disappeared like a rat down a drain cover. 

 

Smoke began to roll across the empty warehouse.  A loud roar filled the area.  The air seemed to thicken and the temperature suddenly started to rise.   Dunne took a step to pursue the evading collar but he tripped over the sprawled legs on the ground. 

 

Ezra.

 

Shit. 

 

JD fumbled to find the lock on the cuffs.  He fumbled for the keys.  Between the intensely growing heat and the increasingly thick smoke Dunne abandoned his efforts.

 

“Come on Ez..wake up...wake up Ez...we’re in some serious shit....Ezra!”  JD slapped the Southerner’s face trying to bring him around but to no avail. 

 

Dunne’s chest constricted.  He tried to draw a deep breath but a hacking choking cough seized him.  He collapsed to his knees with watering eyes.  Visibility reduced itself to just a few inches.

 

With watering eyes that burned with fierce intensity, JD fumbled for Ezra’s shoulders, flipped the larger man over and then proceed to drag him from the office. 

 

JD backpedaled.  He tried to recall how far he was from the stairwell.  It was a straight shot to the ground.  This old warehouse had been converted into an office building a few years ago but the business had gone under.  A suspected cigarette runner had been known to use it as a storage house and a headquarters. 

 

With rising panic and decreasing ability to breath, JD dragged Standish toward the stairs.

 

The first step took him by surprise.  If he had not been leaning forward over Ezra and if Standish’s body had not been so heavy JD would have tumbled backward down the steps.  As it were he stumbled but had himself anchored by Ezra.

 

With mumbled apologies JD stutter stepped his way down the stairs.  Standish’s lower body hit each step with a thump. 

 

Dunne fished for each consecutive step with his toe.  Satisfied that another stair lay solidly beneath the ball of his foot he followed down to the next one.  This continued for twenty five steps. 

 

The smoke had become blinding.  His breaths came in short painful gasps.  He squeezed his eyes closed but tears streamed steadily down his cheeks.  Heat lanced his body in formidable waves.   He could feel the hair on his arms singe.  The heat penetrated through the soles of his sneakers. 

 

His thighs and back burned with their own intensity.  Shoulders and arms ached and complained. 

 

JD reached the last step and then angled himself and his burden toward the door.  He hoped.

 

Dunne didn’t want to admit it but descending the steps had been a heck of a lot easier than dragging Standish across a flat surface. 

 

Smoke penetrated his eyelids.  It swirled up his nose and down his throat choking him.  The pervading build up of carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide sapped the strength from him.  Lethargy seeped in and coated his muscles as red blood cells held tightly to their precious cargo of oxygen.  Muscles screamed for fuel.

 

JD saw lights flashing on the edges of his vision.  He felt dizzy even though his eyes remained closed.  He became increasingly lightheaded with each shuffling step. 

 

Dunne choked back a frustrated sob as he struggled backward tripping over his own clumsy feet. 

 

He felt himself falling.  He felt his back smash into a horizontal bar.  The bar collapsed with a muted click.  And something else gave.

 

JD continued to fall.  The young agent would not relinquish his grip on his friend. 

 

With resounding disappointment and disbelieve that he might have failed at something, the ATF agent spilled over backward.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“There they are!”  Buck hollered out pointing and running across the parking lot toward the side exit as the duo spilled from the door.  Smoke billowed out and over the two collapsing bodies.

 

Team Seven converged on their agents like a storm tide. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

JD could not quite fathom what was happening.  The roaring in his ears drowned out everything even his own racing pulse.   He gripped Ezra’s shoulders refusing to let go.

 

“Damn JD let go we got’im,” 

 

“Someone get these damn cuffs off him,” 

 

“We don’t have time for that....Git away from the building!” 

 

“EMT’s are over that way,” 

 

JD couldn’t make sense of the voices or who belonged to which statement but he recognized the tones of his team. 

 

Strong hands gathered him up and tossed him over a bony shoulder.  The joint dug painfully into his gut and stimulated a cough. 

 

“Easy Pard’ yer gonna be ok,” 

 

JD tried to open his eyes and get a look at Vin but his eyelids refused to cooperate.  Protective reflexes would not be overridden.

 

JD then felt himself get lowered onto something relatively soft.  “Yea did good Kid,”  Buck leaned over Dunne and wiped grime and soot from his young room mate’s face, “Damn proud of ya kid.” 

 

JD smiled  under the praise without opening his eyes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ezra felt himself moving again.  Least this time the immediate discomfort of repeated abuse did not invade his senses.  Instead something smothered his nose and mouth.  The back of his head drummed painfully in synchrony with his pulse and try as he might he could not take a deep breath. 

 

He struggled to open his eyes but they refused to respond and for some reason they burned.  He could feel grit under the lids. 

 

“Lets git these cuffs off him,” A voice penetrated through the white noise.  Josiah? 

 

Someone rolled him onto his side.   He felt his arms get pulled forward. 

 

Standish tried to talk, make a sound but the contraption over his mouth and nose hampered his attempts.  He panicked and tried to take a deep breath.  His lungs failed to cooperate and a hacking cough wracked his body. 

 

“Take it easy Ezra....don’t fight us,”  a familiar voice again...but not Josiah’s. 

 

With new found freedom he tugged at whatever covered his face. 

 

“Whoa easy Ezra ya gotta keep that on,”  Nathan leaned forward and brushed the soot covered hand away from the oxygen mask. 

 

Standish recognized Jackson’s voice and though comforted by it he did not find his situation soothing.   In an effort to decrease his sense of vulnerability he tried to sit up.

 

“Whoa pard’ you ain’t gonna be doin’ that for a bit yet,”  A set of gentle but firm hands pushed him back down.  Vin’s voice. 

 

Josiah knelt beside the wheeled stretcher blocking the EMT’s immediate access to the downed agent.   “Easy Brother, ya got a bump on the head and too much smoke inside ya,”  The reassuring voice rolled through the fog. 

 

“Why don’t you boys see to our Brother Dunne,”  Josiah gazed over his shoulder to the EMT’s, “Ezra here won’t be too cooperative til he understands what’s going on,”

 

The two EMT’s were about to argue but a sharp glare from Chris smothered any resistance. 

 

Ezra tried to follow the voices with unseeing eyes.  He pivoted his head on the small square pillow craning and stretching his neck trying to get a fix on the strangers that surrounded him. 

 

“Ezra...”  Josiah’s voice sounded again, “Ezra jist relax...ya took a hit to the head...ya understand me...JD dragged you out of a fire,”  Josiah watched as the sweat and charcoal stained face stopped its frantic movements and focused on his voice.  Dirty hands fisted and twisted the sheets of the stretcher.

 

“JD?”  The voice rasped and mumbled under the constant flow of oxygen. 

 

“He’s fine,”  Nathan cleaned one hand and forearm and slid a preventative IV catheter home. 

 

Standish nodded his head and then wiped the side of his face on the pillow once again trying to dislodge the oxygen. 

 

“No you don’t brother,”  Josiah replaced the mask and simply nodded for one of the EMT’s to start their drill. 

 

Chris stood back and watched his men.  He shook his head.  A simple bust for illegal cigarettes turns into an assault on a federal officer and a bombing.  Only his team. 

 

He watched as Buck and Vin hovered over JD.   Dunne coughed out a hoarse laugh at Buck’s antics and Tanner’s quiet dry one liners.  An EMT set up an IV and worked discreetly over the young agent getting as much done as quickly as he could while Buck and Vin worked their magic.

 

He switched his attention to the second gurney.  Josiah and Nathan worked in tandem with a second EMT discreetly kept in the background.  Standish’s resistance though muted by the oxygen mask was easily discernible through his body language.  The Southern kept his legs bent knees pointing toward the sky.  He shifted his legs constantly trying to alleviate tension.  Hands curled white knuckled in sheets.  

 

Nathan worked quickly and quietly as Josiah continued to talk and reassure the younger agent. 

 

As if on cue the two gurneys were loaded into ambulances.  Neither downed agent would ride alone. 

 

Chris turned and watched as fire crews worked to put out the blazing building.  Hoses snaked and twitched like living beings.  Water and fire met at the second story in a billow of white steam.  Firemen in turnouts and boots jogged everywhich way in their own macabre busy dance of ones fighting a dangerous enemy. 

 

“You comin’ pard?”  Vin’s hand on his shoulder pulled him from his reverie.  He really hated fire.

 

“Yeah lets go.” 

 

 

The end.