Two heartbeats later the noise began to bleed away. Silence reigned for several more heartbeats, and then a hissing began, softly at first but gaining in momentum. Water began to seep into the locker.
The sprinklers. Some of them must still be active, despite half the ceiling coming down. He waited several more minutes, and then cautiously touched the door. Hot, but not unbearable.
He turned the handle, but the door didn't budge. He shoved harder. A crack of light appeared along one edge. Through it, he could see chunks of concrete, scattered about like some giant's abandoned toys.
He shifted around until he could get his feet against the door, and then pushed with all his might. The door buckled under the force he applied, but eventually, the slabs of concrete moved enough so that he could climb out.
Water misted the air, quickly soaking through his clothes.
He lifted his face and closed his eyes, allowing the moisture to cool his fevered skin.
Then he remembered his new partner. He quickly picked his way across the rubble to the locker that held Illie. The door moved slightly and relief swept through him. At least he hadn't managed to kill yet another partner.
"Hang on," he said. "There are several concrete blocks piled up against the door."
He threw them to one side and forced open the locker door.
Illie scrambled out, his face red and suit stained black with sweat. "Now that was an experience I don't care to relive."
"Yeah, pretty awesome," Gabriel muttered The viaphone rang into the silence, a shrill sound that made him jump. He dug it out of his pocket.
"Stern," he said, studying the mess that had once been a lab. What had probably saved them was the far wall—only a third of it had melted under the intense heat of the maelstrom.
The rest had held, offering this lab some form of protection.
Sam's features appeared on the vidscreen, blue eyes clouded with worry. "Gabriel? Are you okay?"
Gabriel swore softly and rubbed a hand across his eyes.
He'd hoped that by shattering their working relationship, he'd break the psi bond that was growing between them. That obviously wasn't going to happen—or maybe it was just too soon to have any real effect.
"Yeah, I'm fine, but I can't talk now."
It came out sharper than he'd intended, and the warm concern left her face, replaced by an iciness he'd seen all too often of late.
"Sure. Talk to you later."
She signed off before he could say anything else. Gabriel shoved the viaphone back into his pocket. Way to go, he thought sourly. Continue speaking to her like that and she'll definitely remain a part of your life.
"You know," Illie said casually, "you really could do with some tutorage in the art of speaking to a woman."
"Shove it up your ass," he muttered, and turned at the sound of footsteps.
Half a dozen white-suited men came into the lab, some carrying hoses and others medical equipment. Prepared for the worst, Gabriel thought.
"They're surprised," Illie muttered. "They didn't expect to see us alive."
"Relieved surprise, or annoyed surprised?" One pointed to a setup.
Illie hesitated, studying the approaching white suits.
"Relieved."
So if this was a setup, these men didn't know about it.
One white suit separated from the pack, pulling off his breathing mask as he approached. "Assistant Director Stern?
Glad to see you alive, sir."