Title: The Panic Room
Summary: What if when Team One went to save 'Spike' during the riot he wasn't there. Can they get to him before he becomes the next casualty? Based on eppy 4.02 'Good Cop'
Disclaimer: Sadly I own nothing from the awesomeness that is Flashpoint, that belongs to CTV, CBC and whoever else! Lol
A/N: Okay so I have LOVED Flashpoint since the first eppy but have been too nervous to post until now. I have summoned some courage and set my muse 'Alice' free with this idea and hope you like it. It's from Spikes 1st person POV. I also added a bit more to Spike's ordeal to add some drama and peril which I love to write best and hope that's okay and you all like it a little. Thanks in advance.
"Words in italics and double quotes – directly from the eppy."
The call was fairly routine; boss even thought that it would be okay for Ed to join the ride as there was minimal threat perceived at the start. That was about to change thanks to a group of revenge motivated hot heads. The tension when we had arrived at the courthouse was palpable and already tension and anxiety among the team had started to rise. But so far the day wasn't that amiss.
Grealy was to be escorted out the side door as the front is where the pesky media crews were giving strength to the gathering riot mob. The one thing about mob mentality is that it doesn't take long for one person to do something really stupid and the situation goes from bad to worse. That was about to happen.
"Spike we are pulling back. Spike you're blocked. We're pulling back until we can figure a way to get a clear path."
In that moment you tell yourself not to panic. The angry, vengeful mob outside wants Grealy, not you. But as you hear the chants, catch glimmers of hate in the eyes glaring at you through the darkened glass, eye the weapons in their hands, your heart rate elevates and you realize just how vulnerable you really are. But you have faced this before right? I have, just not alone. I usually have had my team at my side in a riot situation and that has given me strength or I have been inside watching the stupitidy from the safety of a control room. Today I am alone.
I watch my team pull back and tell myself that okay the mob pressing in around you will see the object of their hostility pulling back and will leave you alone until they get what they came for. However, I have been in too many of these tense situations to lie to myself and say that I am out of harms way in this semi-armored vehicle. I'm not protected and with only a few thin sheets of glass and aluminum siding between me and possible mortal harm. I'm trapped inside my own panic room and the temperature is rising.
I couldn't blame the father for wanting justice for his dead son, but his methods are short sighted and a tad barbaric and it was feeing the frenzy around the SUV and my anxiety was forcing my knuckles to wrap around the steering wheel tighter than I had even expected. I figured things would be better once the riot police had shown up, however, they just seemed to add to the heated tension that was simmering and about to explode with me right in the middle. Most I saw looked like teens just wanting to get in on the action, wanting to shout, yell, swear, push the cops around and do some minor damage. But today was different. The air in the crowd was different, almost sinister and I had a bad feeling that things were going to get worse before they got better for any of us. The riot police, who were supposed to help maintain the order, now seem to rile them up instead and I was right, today was about to get a lot worse. I just didn't realize how bad.
Then all hell broke loose.
All it takes is one person to take the lead and I saw that self appointed leader coming toward me. Alright spike don't panic I tell myself until I see something shiny and know I need help – and fast.
"They're swarming the truck! I need backup."
Suddenly the punk that is spearheading this flash attack instantly gathers an angry crowd to his side and the SUV is starting to rock. My exits were blocked and I was unable to turn the engine and move. Now I'm worried. Will my team get to me in time? If I leave now without backup or protection, my next stop will be the hospital. I have to stay put. Come on guys.
On the roof, at the doors, slashing the tires, hitting the windows. All I keep thinking is, where the hell is my team?
"Keepin' the doors closed." I told my team in a voice that even to my own ears sounded placid and somewhat under control. I see the kids faces, angry, swearing, shouting, hateful. They are pressing all around and my once mild panic has now risen and I'm wondering if I might come out of this with a few more scars than I did when I first woke up. Yeah that's gonna go over well when I get home tonight.
But the situation goes from bad to worse when I turn to my right just in time to see a the self appointed leader on the passenger side of the SUV with a steel baseball bat in his hands. The window shatters and I feel the small pieces of jagged glass cut my skin as I turn away a few seconds too late. I am now in full blown panic mode. These creeps have no regard for life at the moment, all they see is red and I'm the target painted with that very color.
I am expecting at any second that my team is going to come and pull me from this hellish nightmare but not before a homemade pipe bomb is tossed into the open window and my world explodes with a blast of searing heat and stinging smoke.
My eyes are burning, lungs heaving and chest on fire. My stomach is tight and my heart racing but thankfully my brain knows enough to undo the seatbelt and head for the back; I know the layout of this truck with my eyes closed and fresh oxygen is the only thing that will keep me alive right now. I figure the team must be close now and I hear my name being called. However, things aren't going to go as I suspect. My rescue is about to be delayed by fate itself.
At the same time two sets of doors open and for a few seconds I think I hear Wordy calling my name and to take his arm. But just as I am about to reach out my left arm for my team to pull me to safety, someone grabs my legs and jerks me toward the driver's side of the SUV and then pulls me clear of the dark smoky tomb. I don't bother to claw at the floor of the SUV as I don't know yet who's pulling me toward fresh air.
"Get him out of here," I hear a voice that isn't familiar hiss close to my ears as about half a dozen people start to press in around me, swarming with black masked angry faces, blocking out the small bits of light overhead and nearly stifling the air that my lungs are heaving to drink in.
"Spike!" I hear my name again but this time a different kind of panic starts to set in. My watery eyes struggle to open and focus but when they finally do, I see myself being dragged further from the van and my team swarming the SUV, looking for me as the mob shields my abduction in the opposite direction.
"He…" is all I manage before a piece of tape covers my lips, sealing in the last remnants of the putrid air that I was so desperately seeking to dispel from my aching lungs. I start to struggle a bit harder but am still a bit dazed from the bomb blast and the strange bodies pressing all around me makes it impossible for my team to see where I am. I kick at my attackers which wasn't a smart move as I receive a hard blow to the right side of my weary frame just as we near a dark van and I sag into their grasp.
"Get him inside," one of them demands of the others. I turn to see where the voice is coming from but all I see are dark eyes surrounded by black. Thankfully I am able to yank my right elbow free and take a swipe at one of my attackers, distracting them long enough for me to activate my mobile GPS that we all carry on us for cases like this before my arms are pulled behind my back and my wrists bound tightly with a plastic zip tie.
"Keep him out of sight until I give word," the one who had smashed the window earlier barks at them. I notice the scar...I have seen this guy before. I need to get to my team and tell them to bring him in. I gotta get out of here first though.
With that the van door closes, sealing me inside with three of the riot goons and my team outside looking for me. My lungs want to cough and soon I am on my knees with my head bent to the floor and my lungs constricting. The damn tape they used as a gag is keeping the putrid smoke inside my mouth and my eyes water instantly. I look up with a small pleading expression, blinking away some sweat and dirt and hoping they'll have enough brain cells to let me cough out the damaging smoke.
"Hey man I think he's choking."
"If we kill a cop we're screwed!" One of them argues as he makes a move to take the tape from my mouth.
"I don't care! Let him die. He's gonna anyway," the other argues back and my panic starts to build.
"Just shut up."
"Just keep it quiet cop," the first angry one growls at me as he rips the tape from my mouth.
I don't really care about sound right now, I just need to cough out the lingering fumes and hope that my lungs won't need to spend getting cozy with an oxygen machine.
"Listen…guys," I manage in a softer tone, not really wanting to piss them off any more than they already are and certainly wanting them to keep that damn duct tape away.
"Shut…up," the first one growls and I just nod and lean back on my heels. With my wrists held tightly behind my back, successfully fighting my way out of this new panic room is now moot. I'll just do myself more damage and that is the last thing my racing brain wants to deal with. I gotta be smart and calm, if that's possible.
"So um what do you do? You know on the job and all?" One of them asks.
"Shut up Jo…" the first one glares at his partner. I look at the one that is calling the shots and see only hatred in his eyes, his agenda isn't the same as the others and soon my anxiety has shifted toward nervous adrenaline. My escape is now top priority.
"I…don't mind answering," I pipe up and the conversation instantly stops. The silence inside the van is so thick, I could cut it with a knife right now; an odd respite from the chaos outside. However, that isn't easing my tension or stress since I am at a very obvious disadvantage with the three around me. As I look at them, all I see are three sets of eyes glaring at me behind covered faces and I know I now have to stall for time so that my team can find me. Almost ironic that I would be the one to be sitting behind the computer right now activating the tracker to find one of the team and they will soon be using my own equipment to find me.
"I'm the driver," I mention casually, not about to tell them just what kind of clearance or access I have.
"Ever shot anyone?" The third one who had been quiet up until now finally asks.
It's a loaded question but I don't really know what their game is and I have to be the one to set the tone here. I am hoping and praying they don't see the nervous glint in my eyes or hear the pounding of my rapidly beating heart. Come on Sam…Ed…where are you guys?
"He asked you a damn question cop!" The one who is now standing out as the leader of the three of them shouts at me. He leans in a bit closer and for the first time I see a small gun in his grasp. The panic room just took on a whole new look. This one means serious business and while I thought before he was only bluffing about me dying, the small object in his hands just changed things.
"No," I answer slowly, hoping they'll believe me. With my earpiece missing I am unable to tell just how close the team is but I'm sure they have activated my GPS finder by now. At least I am hoping they have, as the longer they delay the shorter this guys fuse is going to get and the more prominent that gun is going to become.
"Why not? Scared?" He asks with a mocking tone and I quickly swallow. "Ahh I think our little driver here is scared to shoot someone."
"I would be," the second one pipes up.
"That's because you wet your pants when you run a red light," the third one sneers.
Come on guys…my mind chants over again.
"You wanna shoot someone cop?"
"Hey man what are…" the second one starts only to have the first one cock the trigger and shove it into his so-called friends face; the third one just sitting quietly as he shakes his head and snickers.
"You wanna shoot my friend cop?" He turns to me with an angry glare. "Or maybe you want my friend to shoot me."
"What the hell?" The second one asks in a nervous stammer. "Put that..."
"Answer me cop!"
"Why do you want to kill your friend?" I ask with a slight frown. My head is pounding from the remnants of the pipe bomb and this moron's idea of a threat with his friend not lessening it by any means.
"Yeah nice try with the reverse psychology crap! Well it won't work," the first one glares at me in anger and hatred. Obviously this guy has a second agenda and it has nothing to do with the tense atmosphere engulfing the van outside. If only I had my earpiece and could hear my team feeding me something so that I coul try to talk this guy down from his potentially fatal actions.
"Why do you want to kill him?"
"Yeah Dave listen…"
"Don't say my name you idiot!" The goon with the gun shouts at his friend as the gun remains firmly pointed into his cheek. With his arm still wrapped around his friends neck, he pulls the gun away and points it directly at me. I try to edge back a bit on my knees but in reality I have no where to go and am running out of time. Hurry Sam…
"Now cop I asked you a damn question!"
"Do you want to die?" He asks with a gruff tone. "Because you are going to! Now answer me!"
"This isn't about the riot is it?" I counter.
"I asked you first!" He shouts before someone hits the side of the van. I quickly use the distraction to roll to my right and kick at the door before two sets of arms pull me back into the belly of the dark van. With my arms tied behind my back, my struggle is mostly in vain, but I am not about to go down without a good fight.
"Spike!" I hear my name and that spurs my adrenaline on to kick at the side of the van as the three behind scramble to keep me subdued. A gloved hand covers my mouth to keep me from calling out as I am wrestled to the floor, but thankfully their stupid little stunt has come to an end; and just in time I would guess.
The front doors open and I hear Sam and Wordy yelling at them to surrender just as the back doors are bust open and a few riot police are swarming into the opening, pulling out the three miscreants as my team pulls me back toward safety.
"Hold on Spike."
"Just in…time," I slightly cough as I feel myself being rolled onto my right side and the tight plastic zip tie cut from my wrists and my wrists pulled free.
"You okay?" Sam asks as I roll onto my back and sit up, lingering in place for a few seconds to allow my head to stop spinning before I answer.
"Yeah. Just a few extra bumps and bruises," I answer with a small cough, drawing concerned looks from my team. "Guys I'm fine."
"Okay we need to get inside and regroup," Wordy directs us.
I give them both a firm nod as we know we all have a job to do, the day is far from over and there will thankfully be time for pleasantries later. I get a few reassuring squeezes on my shoulders from my team and a look of concern and sympathy from the boss and Ed as we gather in the courtroom but my agitation is still strong.
"You okay?" Boss looks at me with his trademark fatherly gaze.
"Yeah I'm fine. We got a job to do right?"
It wasn't the time to argue and he knew that, heck he trained me that way and couldn't expect much of an argument in return as he knows he'd do the exact same to us; the job was first, our personal discomfort would have to wait. My head was pounding and I didn't even have time to clean the bloody cuts on my face. The riot was still raging on outside and that meant we still had a job to do. This day was far from over.
"Ah damn it," I gently curse as I carefully clean the cuts on my nose and forehead, wincing as the cool disinfectant dances with the chewed up skin around my face and bruised cheek. Going home looking like this isn't going to be fun exactly and I can just hear the barrage of annoying questions and the every second sentence asking me if I still want to do this in the morning.
"Hey," I hear a warm friendly voice behind me and look up to see Ed's reflection in the mirror.
"Hey," I answer before I look back down and finish my task before standing upright and offering Ed a small smile before I turn to him in wonder. "So…"
"Yeah fine. Just tired. Anything on those three guys?"
"The guy with the gun we ID'd as Dave Simpkin. Has a history of priors, mostly petty stuff but all run in's with the police. But six months ago his father was in an altercation with a police officer. Guess you can figure how that turned out?" Ed asks, not really seeking an answer.
"Did the father die?"
"Two nights later and his son Dave has been vowing revenge ever since. He'll be arrested for…well you know the rest right?"
"Glad you were with us today," I tell Ed in truth. "I know Sophie gave you that ultimatum but I'm glad you were there. Made things in that van…um less tense," I tell him in truth.
"I got a few minutes you wanna talk about what happened in that van?"
"No I'm okay. I think I'll just go home, have a beer and…turn up the TV very loud so no one asks questions," I look at him and conclude with a small nervous chuckle. "So I'll…see you tomorrow."
"Spike, you sure you don't want to talk about it? I read the report but I didn't get your personal take on it."
"A guy lookin' for revenge and the team saved the day before things got worse," I try to shrug it off. I'm sure Ed can see the conflict in my eyes which is why he won't let me leave without getting the bulk of today's events off my still slightly throbbing chest and knowing that I just can't go home and find some mental relief there. But in truth I don't want to go back into that panic room and relive those tense moments any longer than I had to earlier today. That's what I am telling myself I want, but in reality I am thankful that he can see through it.
"Hey come here a sec," Ed takes me by the arm and leads me to a small bench and we both sit down. He looks at me and offers a small frown, his warm blue eyes searching mine for the truth that he knows I'm actually needing to confess.
"It's okay to say you were scared," Ed starts in a soft tone. "Closed off from the team, unable to really fight back, a mob outside and your life on the line. You know usually it's us saving others from those situations and I think it leads us to just close off and say everything is fine. Spike that kid came to the riot today with the one thought to kill one of us no matter what."
"I guess I can understand where he's coming from."
"Spike...talk to me."
"Alright fine I was scared but…but that wasn't the worst part," I lean back and offer a heavy sigh. And while my body is begging me to just get up and walk out right now, head home and crash on my bed, my mind knows that I can't leave until I have told a trusted friend the hard truth; a friend who won't think less or judge me adversely. But I know that as hard as it's going to be for me to confess what I was feeling in that panic room, at the end of this confession it will have been exactly what I needed.
A/N: Okay so what did you think? Good? Lame? Should I go back into the writing closet? haha I wasn't sure how long to make it or what route to go but I do love to write action/peril/angst so am hoping this was okay. Constructive criticism is accepted but please don't flame as that isn't good for anything except toasting marshmallows! Lol I would appreciate reviews as it will let me know you liked this and let us know if you want more. So thanks so much for reading :D