Chapter 3 Sam
SAM
The call came in as Sam was halfway through a coffee that had already gone cold.
“Building explosion. Multiple casualties. Possible entrapment. Respond immediately.”
Her heart tightened as the dispatcher’s voice crackled through the station’s PA system, sending the firehouse into immediate action.
Mugs clattered onto tables, chairs scraped across the floor, and boots thundered toward the trucks.
Sam was on her feet in seconds, barking out orders as her team scrambled into their gear.
“Let’s move, people! We’re rolling in thirty!” Her voice was steady, cutting through the noise with the authority her crew depended on.
Within minutes, the fire engine roared out of the station, its siren piercing the air as they sped toward the scene.
Sam rode in the front seat, her sharp blue eyes scanning the skyline as they approached the chaos.
Black smoke billowed against the evening sky, a menacing pillar that marked their destination.
By the time they arrived, the street was a scene of utter devastation.
Shattered glass littered the ground, flames licked at the edges of the collapsed building, and terrified onlookers were held back by police barricades.
The acrid stench of smoke and gas filled the air, and Sam’s chest tightened as she surveyed the scene.
This wasn’t just a fire; it was a disaster.
“Quinn!” Jack’s voice broke through her focus, pulling her attention to the haphazard pile of rubble that had once been the building’s facade. “We’ve got people inside. Structure’s unstable, but there’s a void space near the southeast corner. If anyone’s alive, they’re there.”
Sam nodded, her jaw tightening. “You and Team Two handle containment on the west side. Ben, you’re with me. We’re going in.”
Ben, ever eager, gave her a quick nod, adjusting the straps on his helmet. His youthful energy had always been a source of both amusement and pride for Sam, but tonight, it added an edge to her worry.
The two moved swiftly, navigating the treacherous terrain of broken beams and shattered concrete.
The heat from the flames pressed against Sam’s back, and every step sent a shiver of unease through her.
This was bad. The kind of bad that made her stomach churn, no matter how many times she’d faced it before.
“Over here!” Ben’s voice rang out, full of urgency. He pointed to a small opening beneath a collapsed section of the building where faint cries for help could be heard.
Sam knelt, her gloved hands working quickly to clear debris as the cries grew louder. “Stay with us,” she called, her tone steady despite the chaos. “We’re coming for you.”
The void space was small, barely enough for them to crawl through.
Sam motioned for Ben to follow as they squeezed inside, their flashlights cutting through the suffocating darkness.
They found two victims, a man clutching his unconscious wife, and Sam’s stomach sank.
The woman’s pulse was faint, her breathing shallow.
“Ben, start stabilizing her,” she ordered, moving to check on the man.
Ben nodded, his movements quick and precise, but as he shifted closer to the woman, a low groan rumbled through the structure. Sam’s head snapped up just as the ceiling above them began to sag.
“Ben, move!” she shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him back just as the beam came crashing down. It struck him on the shoulder, sending him sprawling.
“Ben!” Sam’s voice was sharp with panic as she crouched beside him, her hands already checking for injuries. His face was pale, his breaths shallow, and blood was seeping through his turnout coat.
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, though the pain in his voice betrayed him.
“Like hell you are,” Sam snapped. “Stay still.” Her hands moved instinctively, assessing the damage. The beam had hit hard, but it hadn’t crushed him. Still, the blood loss was alarming, and she could feel the tremor of instability in the ground beneath them.
Her mind raced, weighing their options. The victims were still trapped, and now Ben needed immediate medical attention. Every decision felt like a gamble, the stakes impossibly high.
“Team Two, we need extraction at Point Alpha,” she barked into her radio. “Two victims and one injured responder. We’re losing time.”
The response crackled back instantly, but it felt like an eternity before they reached her.
Every second stretched painfully long as she pressed her hands against Ben’s shoulder, willing the bleeding to stop.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she muttered, more to herself than him. “You hear me? You’re sticking around.”
Ben tried to smile, his usual bravado dimmed by pain. “You’re too bossy to let me go anyway.”
“Damn right,” she said, her voice rough. But the fear in her chest wouldn’t ease.
When the extraction team finally arrived, they worked quickly to free the victims and load Ben onto a stretcher. Sam stayed close, her hand resting on his good shoulder as they moved him toward the ambulance.
“You’ve got this, Ben,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “You’re tougher than you look.”
He gave her a weak grin, but as the ambulance doors closed, Sam felt a wave of helplessness crash over her. For someone so used to being in control, the feeling was unbearable.
As the ambulance sped away, she turned back to the wreckage, her jaw tight and her heart heavy. There was no room for vulnerability here; she still had a job to finish. But as she stepped back into the chaos, her thoughts kept drifting to Ben and to the hospital where he was heading.
And for the first time since the call came in, Sam felt the faint stirrings of relief. She knew exactly who would be waiting for him when he arrived.
Roz Harrington.
The inside of the ambulance felt both too loud and eerily silent at the same time.
The wail of the siren outside was relentless, a high-pitched reminder of the urgency pressing down on Sam’s chest. Inside, Ben lay on the stretcher, his usually animated face pale and drawn, his breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps.
The paramedics worked quickly, their hands moving with mechanical precision as they stabilized his shoulder and monitored his vitals.
“Ben,” Sam said firmly, leaning over him. Her voice was steady, but her fingers gripped the edge of the stretcher tightly. “Stay with me, okay? You’re going to be fine.”
He blinked up at her, his dark eyes glassy but flickering with recognition. “Cap…I’m good,” he murmured weakly. “Just…need a nap.”
Sam’s throat tightened, but she managed a small, strained smile. “No naps. Not yet. I need you awake and annoying, remember?”
He huffed a weak laugh that quickly turned into a wince.
The sound hit Sam harder than she expected, a sharp pang of worry slicing through her chest. She glanced at the paramedic nearest her, searching for reassurance, but their tight-lipped expression only made the knot in her stomach twist tighter.
Her mind flashed back to Lila. The way she’d clung to life during the collapse, her voice trembling as Sam promised they’d get her out. And then, the moment she had to hand her over to the hospital, to Roz. It wasn’t just about trust; it was about letting go of control, and Sam hated that.
Now, it was Ben. Her crew wasn’t just a team; they were family. Every decision she made was for them, and now she was placing one of her own in the hands of someone else. Her thoughts churned as the ambulance sped toward Harrington Memorial, the weight of leadership pressing heavily on her.
As the ambulance screeched to a halt, the paramedics flung the doors open, and Sam jumped out, staying close as they wheeled Ben into the emergency bay.
The bright lights of the hospital were stark and jarring after the smoke and darkness of the rescue scene, and the sharp smell of antiseptic filled the air.
“Let’s move!” a nurse called, rushing alongside the stretcher. “Trauma team, OR two!”
Sam followed, her boots echoing against the tile floor. She wasn’t about to leave Ben’s side, not until she knew exactly who would be taking care of him. And then, as the stretcher turned the corner, she saw her.
Roz Harrington.
Roz appeared with the same commanding presence that had haunted Sam’s thoughts since the charity event.
Her choppy pink hair was tucked beneath a surgical cap, but there was no mistaking the sharp green eyes that swept over Ben with laser focus.
Roz’s calm, steady voice cut through the chaos as she assessed the situation.
“BP is dropping. Prep for a thoracotomy if the bleeding doesn’t stop,” Roz instructed, her tone clipped but controlled. She barely glanced at Sam before continuing. “We’re taking him to the OR now.”
“Wait,” Sam interjected, stepping forward. Her protective instincts flared as she placed a hand on the edge of the stretcher. “What’s the plan? What exactly are you doing?”
Roz finally turned her gaze to Sam, her expression cool and professional. “His injuries are severe. There’s internal bleeding we need to stop, his shoulder damage is worse than it looks, and he could have possibly neurological damage. We’re going to stabilize him in surgery.”
“How risky is this?” Sam’s voice was sharp, but her blue eyes betrayed the fear she was trying to keep at bay. “This isn’t just some random patient, he’s—”
Roz cut her off, her tone firm but not unkind. “I know who he is to you, Captain Quinn. And I know what I’m doing.”
Sam bristled. “You don’t get to dismiss me like that. I need to know he’s not a gamble.”
Roz’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. “This isn’t a gamble. It’s a calculated decision based on what’s best for him. I know you’re worried, but this is my expertise. Let me do my job.”