Gabriel hit the ground running. Part of the old hospital building had already been demolished. Dust rose in a wave, stinging the night sky with the scent of decay and death.
He wrenched open the door to the command center. The two men inside turned around, surprise evident in their expressions. He flashed his badge. "You have to stop the demolition. We have an agent trapped inside the building."
"I can't. It's automated."
He grabbed the man's shirt and dragged him close. "Listen very carefully. I have an agent trapped inside. I want the demolition stopped, and I don't care how you do it."
"Okay, okay," the man stuttered. "We'll try."
"Don't try. Just do it." He thrust the man away from him, grabbed the flashlight that was sitting on a bench, and headed back outside.
Another muffled explosion ran across the silence. The old building seemed to shudder, and then the west wing came down in almost graceful silence. More dust rose into the sky.
He swore and ran for the central building, the area that had once housed the hospital's administration and emergency services. That's where she was.
The main doors were boarded shut, but several well-placed kicks soon fixed that. Dust rolled out to greet him, as thick as the darkness beyond the doorway.
He coughed, and turned on the flashlight. Another explosion rolled through the night, followed quickly by a muffled scream.
Sam. As yet unhurt by the falling debris.
He picked his way down the shattered corridor, heading for the emergency exit sign that gleamed brightly in the beam of the flashlight. The stairs beyond were a tangle of wood and jagged plasterboard. He shone the light upwards. Part of the ceiling had collapsed. It wouldn't take much to bring the whole lot down.
He continued on. Dust caught at his throat, making him cough, and the air became stale, almost hard to breathe.
"Gabriel?" Her voice rose from the darkness, full of sudden hope.
"Here." He swung the light to the left. Her voice had come from beyond the row of disconnected walls.
"I'm trapped," she said. "Hurry."
Another explosion ran through the darkness. He swore and wondered why the fools in charge hadn't yet stopped them. Surely they could throw a power switch. No power, no computer to regulate the charges.
Plaster and brick began to rain from the ceiling, deadly missiles that drew blood every time they hit. He ran through the maze, dodging and weaving the best he could. The flashlight danced across the darkness, briefly illuminating shadowed corners. None of them held Sam.
"Talk to me, Sam!"
"Here!" she said.
She was close, so close. He kicked his way through a doorway. "Again."
"On your right, through the door, I think."
There were two doors on his right. Letting instinct take control, he booted open the second of the two. The light picked out her dust-covered face.
He knelt by her side. The ceiling had half collapsed, covering her in plaster and wood. But that wasn't what held her. Chains did. Anger rose, swift and hard. The would-be assassin had better hope he wasn't the one who caught her.
"You okay?" He pushed the debris away from her body, grabbed the end of the chain and began to unwind it.
"Fine," she said. "How did you find me?"
He met her gaze briefly. Confusion and relief mingled in her smoke-ringed blue eyes. She wasn't aware of the bond she'd forged. Good. Perhaps he'd be able to close it before it got too strong.
"Long story." He unwound the chains from her legs and tossed them to one side. "Can you move?"
"I think so." She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. No sooner had she put weight on her left leg than it collapsed under her.
He grabbed her before she could fall back down. "Looks like you've done some damage to your leg." He slipped an arm round her waist, taking her weight — what little there was of it. "Let's get out of here."