Rats in a Maze




Carter wrapped his left arm around the beam that he was balancing on, while keeping his right arm slightly in the air. His hand was throbbing, but he couldn't let out a single sound. His brow was covered with sweat; drops rolling down his face, making it feel sticky. His body slightly trembled from a mixture of adrenaline and fear. He tried to control his knees from shaking so they wouldn't interfere with his precarious balance.

Carter squinted in the darkness and strained to see in front of him. He wanted to crawl away, but was unable to get his body to cooperate. The gunman was tearing the room below him apart, each crash and curse made him flinch. Carter didn't hear any movement in front of him, Mark was as still as a statue.

Carter couldn't control the slight tremors that ran through him and now his Legs were beginning to buckle. To avoid from slipping from his precarious position he leaned his face to the metal beam below and felt the coolness pressing on his cheek.

With his ear suspended above the ceiling tile, Carter could hear what the gunman was screaming. Carter began to pray for the guard to get tired and leave so they could continue their crawl. His fears only grew when he heard other people enter the room.

Xxxxxxxxxx

L.T. barreled into the waiting room, his eyes wildly scanning the empty area after finding two of his team members unconscious in the other room. He should have never trusted those two doctors to look after Murphy.

He grabbed the coffee table in front of him and rammed it through the nearest window. The blinds toppled, and shards of glass were sent flying in all directions.

"Damn bastards. I'll kill them both," he heaved.

L.T. retrieved a two-way radio from his pocket and turned one of the knobs. A signal chirped, and he took a deep breath. "Redbird to Fireball, come in please."

The room remained still and L.T.'s grip on the radio tightened, "Redbird to Fireball..."

"Explain the disruption of radio silence," hissed a reply.

L.T. stared at the floor, his eyes taking in the damage he had inflicted on the room. "We have a situation that needs your direct attention, Sir."

"I see............Remain in your location, we'll be right there," came a cold reply.

L.T. clicked off his radio and paced up and down the small amount of space in the room. His temper still flaring at the prospect of giving a bad report to his boss, he channeled his rage and punched a hole in the wall. He stepped back for a second and stared at the destruction in front of him, "I'll break more than fingers when I find all of you."

Xxxxxxxx

Peter stared at all the various screens. Bewildered, Peter stared at the various screens and consoles with their endless array of buttons, switches and knobs.

He could perform some of the most intricate heart operations, but he didn't know what to push or twist to get the right cameras to work. After franticly searching for the right way to operate the security system, Peter finally found the correct camera for the floor that contained Mark and Carter, but it could only scan the hallway.

Back and forth Peter trained the camera and not a soul was around. He decided to keep the camera locked in position and use a variety of others to see what was going on in the rest of the building. There were numerous offices that were absent of people as well. It was like the building was a ghost town. 'Where are all the bad guys?' Peter thought.

Peter was about to re-think his idea when he spotted Dave and Jill appear out of a doorway. They looked terrified and were running down to the other End of the hallway. Peter was certain that they had run into more trouble and was torn about what to do about it. He observed them turn to the right and he realized that they were out of camera view.

They had gone two floors up which meant they were now on the level that housed all the counseling rooms. For a moment this made the doctor wonder if there was a separate facility that monitored those rooms, he hated not being able to keep track of where everyone was. Peter was about to fiddle with the channels again when he saw three men march into the hallway where Carter and Mark were being held. Peter felt his muscles stiffen and he leaned closer to the screen. Two gunmen seemed to be flanking a shorter man who was dressed in what seemed like full military fatigues.

"Must be the leader," Peter said out loud.

The three gunmen entered the waiting room and Peter cursed. He still could not see what was going on in there and was overcome by a sudden wave of fear. Should he go down there? If so, what could he do? Peter slammed his hand onto the console; he was powerless in this situation. Peter glanced down at his fingers and noticed a blue button next to the knob he was using to scan the hallway. He pressed it and the screen switched to a view of another room. Peter stared at the monitor and after a second realized he was looking at the room connected to the waiting area that held Carter and Mark. He was so close to finding out what was happening in there.

Xxxx

L.T was still staring at the wall when the door beeped and three of his comrades entered the room. He held himself at attention when he saw his commander, and saluted the man. He gulped when the Colonel stared at him with heartless eyes.

"You broke radio silence," the shorter man said.

"Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir!" L.T. shouted.

"Explain."

L.T nervously looked at his fellow gunmen who held themselves stiffly at each side of their leader. L.T began to sweat and launched into detail about what had transpired. Afterwards he watched as the Colonel walked from one end of the room to the other. He stopped in front of the door that connected to the waiting room, and knocked on it.

"You tried the next room?" The Colonel asked.

L.T. shook his head. He watched listlessly as his commander snapped his fingers and one of his comrades inserted his passkey and opened it. Both men readied their rifles and stormed in. After several moments, the Colonel went in, leaving L.T no choice but to follow him.

"Seems that you lost two civilian doctors, one of which was in need of some kind of service from this hospital. Somehow Murphy was knocked out, Reynolds is unconscious and you're the only one left unharmed."

"Yes, sir." L.T stammered, his lip trembling. "But, there are four of them."

"Yes, four little mice running around nibbling around at our plans."

L.T nodded his head in understanding.

The Colonel turned to the gunman to his left, "Get me the file on the doctor that was sent here."

The gunman nodded and left the room in a hurry. The Colonel turned his back on L.T.

L.T. felt humiliated. Somehow he had let his superior down and he needed to make it up somehow. He tried to think of all the ways that his prisoners could have eluded them, when his mind flashed back to the waiting room. The coffee table had been moved; those sneaky bastards had climbed into the ceiling. With one of them hurt there was no way they could have made much headway. L.T smiled and his face lit up with enthusiasm.

"Sir..."

The Colonel did not turn to face his officer, he simply reached for his service revolver and bent his arm back behind him. The Colonel fired once, and then moved to peer down at the fallen body. A large pool of blood formed beneath his former officer. L.T's eyes were closed; a huge hole was spurting blood from a wound in the man's chest.

"You are not allowed to see the eyes of the man who takes your life. You lost that privilege because you were unworthy. I do not allow failures in this outfit, now I must cleanse your mistakes, starting with our dear doctors."

Xxx

Terror, shock, pain, the coolness of something against his cheek. Why were these sensations familiar? He couldn't move, no that wasn't it...it was that if he shifted ever so slightly then he would die. How ironic. He didn't dare open his eyes. It wouldn't do any good since they were in complete darkness.

'Dumb idea, John,' he thought.

All he wanted was for this whole thing to go away, he couldn't take this kind of fear again. His mistakes had dragged three people he cared about into the same horrible situation. When would he ever learn his lesson? Carter felt his body shiver, it seemed like if he trembled anymore then he would lose his balance and go crashing through the ceiling.

His right hand hurt so much. If he were a wild animal then his instincts would make him chew it off. God, if only he were disconnected from it somehow. He squeezed his eyes even tighter, so much so that it caused his head to ache. The only thing keeping him from crying out in anguish was the fear. It was like his hand was sending out pulses of agony in tune to his heartbeat, which was racing.

Carter silently laughed at himself, he didn't know why. Mark was right, this was an insane idea. They were in the ceiling, but what now? They would have to stay crouched over because the floor to the next level was above their heads. There was no where else to go, it wasn't like they could climb to the next floor or anything. Maybe he and Mark could just hide.

His hand continued to throb.

His mind begged him for some kind of relief from all the pain, from the thoughts that were consuming him. He bit his lip even harder at the idea of an artificially induced oblivion. A warm, fuzzy, cloud could simply make his mind forget all about the suffering.

No, that wouldn't fix this mess. He couldn't think like this, he had to be stronger, not only for himself, but for the others as well. He would just have to bear with the pain and work through it. His thoughts were scattered when he was forced to listen to the conversations below him. The leader was right below him, any screw up and they would be discovered. Carter cringed at every word spoken, every movement made.

It was so hot, and so stuffy trapped in between floors. He tried not to think About how uncomfortable he was, to remain ever so still; his breathing was too loud for his ears. There was more movement, a bit fainter now, and for a brief second, he thought they were safe. The ruse might have worked.

"Bang!"

The gunshot almost sent him toppling. Carter's body jerked at the movement, his hand protesting the restrictions the magazines placed on it. There had to be a hole in his lip from biting on it so hard to suppress a gasp. If he was scared before, then he was petrified now. The burden of suppressing any noise was making him dizzy. This whole experience was like falling down a never-ending pit, not knowing if you would hit the bottom.

Then there was more movement and then finally silence.

"Carter?"

Mark's whisper made him hug the beam tighter.

"Carter?"

His name was called a bit louder. He swallowed, searching for his voice, "Yeah?" He responded.

"I think we should move," Mark whispered.

"I don't know anymore," he replied, his voice barely audible.

"Carter, come on, we can't stay here, we need to find a place to hide," Mark implored.

"This place is pretty good."

His hand was burning now, no longer satisfied with just pricking sensations and spasms.

"Move it now, Carter. Follow me."

That was more like an order and somehow his body started crawling before his mind registered the movement. He moved on shaky knees and guided his way with his good left hand.

Xxxxx

Peter was terrified; no he was furious. There wasn't any sound from the screen, or he hadn't figured how to turn it on. He didn't need to. He watched in horror as the supposed leader had murdered his teammate in cold blood. He was mystified by their actions, it did appear as if they were searching for someone by the way the first two gunmen had stormed the room in some kind of commando style. One of them had been sent off, but Peter had lost track of him when the Colonel or whoever had pulled out his gun.

Then once things were clear, the rest of the terrorists, or whoever they were, had entered the room. This could mean that Mark and Carter had been left alone, or...

No, the other option was one that Peter could not consider, and it was one he wouldn't. The leader was upset about something; maybe Mark and Carter had done something, perhaps escaped. Peter shook his head, he would have seen them leave the room from the hallway, unless...

Peter was confused, he picked this room as an advantage and now all it seemed to do was complicate things. He caught glimpses of things and it only served to drive him crazy. He wanted to find out what happened to Mark and Carter. Peter watched the other cameras; the leader and his partner had left the room and entered the elevator. The surgeon remained where he was until he could determine where the lunatics were going.

"Damn it!" He cursed when the surgeon saw the Colonel and the other gunman get out of the elevator to the floor that Dave and Jill had fled to. They went down the same hallway and disappeared down the exact corridor where he lost contact with Dave.

"Great," he mumbled. Everyone was in danger and he had to make a choice. Peter didn't let his grievance with Malucci influence his decision, in the end, he knew that the resident would do the same thing if they were in each other's shoes.

Peter found some paper lying around and grabbed a few sheets. He crumbled some of it into a ball and cracked the door open. The cameras showed that his path was clear, but he remained cautious. He jammed some of the paper into where the lock would go and the door latched, but he could still open it without a passkey. Peter moved quickly now, he knew that the hallways would only remain clear for so long and he still had to worry about people in the stairwell. Without hesitation Peter moved quickly and headed downstairs to the last place he saw Carter and Mark.

xx

Dave wasn't sure what came over him, but he knew that they couldn't remain in the hallway. He couldn't be sure that they had left the stairs without alerting the guards. Jill seemed to have a destination in mind and he followed her down the hallway and they veered down another corridor. Jill was scanning different doors and stopped in front of one. With her hands shaking, she punched in several numeric numbers, the door clicked and she pushed it open.

Dave glanced behind him and saw only empty space. Relived that they had not been followed, he entered the room that Jill disappeared into. His eyes darted around; they were in a tiny room with several computers and file cabinets. Jill had all ready begun flipping trough folders in some desperate search for something.

"What are you doing?" Dave asked perplexed by the doctor's odd behavior.

Jill responded without looking up, "I'm not going to go bounding through this building without knowing whom I'm facing. I have a hunch about something."

Dave crossed his arms in front of him, "And I thought we were going to find some help."

Jill ignored him as she dug through folder after folder. This woman's pompous attitude was really getting under his skin, and Dave was not about to hide it.

"Listen here, Dr. Ebright, let's find something to call for help. My friends are still being held at gun point, or did you forget that?" Dave asked bitterly.

Jill spun around, grasping a file, "Listen here Matucci, Malucci, or whatever. This is my Center and I have my patients to think about. Who knows what the Hell is happening to them all?

I've worked too hard with too many of them to make some progress. Who the Hell knows what kind of damage has been done to them?"

"I left one of my co-workers back there and my friend came here because of your stupid insistence!" Dave fired back, his voice echoing in the room.

"I want to help both Dr. Carter and Mr. Sobreki. But right now, I think that this place has been taken over by colleagues of this man," Jill shouted back, thrusting a file into Dave's hands.

He stared down at it dumbly and flipped through it, scanning its contents. Dave slowly glanced up to face Jill's angry posture. "You're telling me that this is the place that the government sent Colonel Lance Talbert?"

Jill rubbed her eyes, "Yes."

Dave paced the tiny room, "The guy that was sent for competency testing for trying to blow up an army base because he said it was manufacturing nerve gas to use against the city?"

Jill leaned against the wall, "He was sent here to see if he could stand trial. A colleague of mine diagnosed him with classic schizophrenia and paranoid delusions. However..."

Dave was getting annoyed, "However what?"

"However, we do accept a lot of government funding."

Dave took a moment to realize the implications of Jill's last statements. "Are you telling me that this place falsified reports about his mental status?"

Jill didn't make eye contact with the resident, but she didn't have to, her body posture spoke volumes.

Dave was fuming, "No wonder this guy is pissed, but it doesn't explain why a bunch of goons are running around, now does it?"

Jill shook her head, "It doesn't mean he didn't have followers, he was Dishonorably discharged a year ago, he had time to recruit people." Jill explained.

Dave rubbed at his sore jaw; and winced when it sent pain shooting through the rest of his face. "We're all dead."

Xxxx

Mark was concerned when Carter seemed unwilling to continue on their trek, it had been the other man's idea to go into the rafters. The attending had been just as rattled by the appearance of more terrorists and he almost had lost his lunch at the thought that someone had been shot below them. When Carter seemed to have withdrawn within himself, Mark had to get forceful. The younger man always seemed to react to that.

They had been moving at an incredibly slow pace. He had lead the way, checking behind him on instinct to see if Carter was behind him, but the other doctor had a hard time crawling around with the use of just one hand. This had not been a good idea. They were lost and blind, and Carter was incapacitated in a way. He should be resting; the last thing that his injured hand needed was to be jarred around.

It seemed like they had only moved a few inches. Mark continued to put one hand in front of the other. It was difficult to follow the beam he had never done anything like this in his life. He was about to place his right palm down when he thought he heard a noise below him. It was a squeaking sound. The unexpected noise caught him so off guard that his hand missed the metal beam and it went straight down, punching a hole through the ceiling tile.

If that wasn't bad enough, the momentum of his arm carried the rest of his body with him and as soon as his hand busted through, he had fallen through the ceiling. Mark landed on the floor with a thud, both of his hands breaking his fall. As soon as he landed, he rolled instinctively to his side, losing his glasses in the process. Mark's wrists hurt from having all his weight thrusted onto them and he lay on his back staring up at the gaping hole in the ceiling.

His mind was screaming at him to get up, but his body was still recovering from the shock of falling. He knew that he hadn't broken anything, but what was throwing him for an even bigger loop was that he was staring up at the shocked expression of Peter Benton.

"Damn it man, you just scared the Hell out of me," Peter growled.

The surgeon bent down to give the bewildered attending a hand up. Mark got to his feet a bit shakily, "What are you doing here? Where's Malucci?" Mark asked, trying to recover slightly from the idea that he was talking to his co-worker at all.

Peter shook his head, a bit annoyed with the questions, "Later Mark, where's Carter?" The surgeon asked ,looking around the room.

Mark blanched, embarrassed, "God, I forgot. Carter." He called, staring up at the ceiling.

Peter followed his gaze unapprovingly. "He's up there?"

Mark peered at the hole with concern, "Carter, come on, climb down, Peter's here."

Peter was about to look for a way to climb up there when he saw Carter's face look down them from above. "Dr. Benton?"

"Carter, get the Hell down from there." Peter watched intently as his co-worker disappeared again.

Both doctors waited nervously, every once in a while peering at the door. So far no one had busted in, but who knew how much time they had? Peter could hear Carter moving around, knowing he would have to carefully come out feet first.

"Come on man, we have to get out of here. I found a safe place to hide out." Peter encouraged.

The surgeon looked Mark over, noting that the man had not suffered any injures from the fall. Peter breathed in and out heavily as he waited for his friend to come down. He was about to shout at him again to hurry up; when he saw Carter's long legs begin to descend from the opening. Carter slowly began to lower himself down with difficulty, and then he sort of dropped to the floor, hissing in pain.

Peter gave him a steadying grip to his shoulder as he watched him sway slightly on his feet. "Are you okay, Carter?" He asked, noting the magazines strapped around his hand.

Carter shook his head no, as he answered, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Peter and Mark watched as he took a step forward and then both doctors caught Carter as his legs crumbled beneath his weight.



Part 8
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