Fighting for Salvation (19)

Okay, I realize that this is like, the shortest chapter I have ever written. But it was necessary to up the tension. Hopefully it won't be too long before the next chapter gets posted as well. Enjoy!

            "Everyone to the ground!" one of the men roared, firing off a couple shots into the air.

            The parishioners fell to the floor as one, some screaming, some crying. Ava glanced over at Jen, reassuring herself that her friend was still okay. Jen gave her a small nod, despite the fear looming in her eyes. Looking around, Ava tried to count how many gunmen there were, but all she could really tell from her position was that there were more than seven. She silently cursed the fact that she didn't have any weapons on her – she never brought her gun to church. Something about the very idea was repugnant to her.

            A movement to her right caught Ava's attention, and she turned her head. One of the older priests was moving down the aisle toward the gunman who had spoken. She could see that his hands shook, but he kept his face passive as he approached them.

            "Please, gentlemen," he said quietly. "Why don't you just tell us what you want. There's no reason for any violence."

            Without any hesitation, the gunman lifted his weapon and shot the priest in the head. As the old man crumpled to the ground, the screams in the cathedral rose to a higher pitch. Their captor turned to look at his hostages.

            "We're here to deliver a message," he declared loudly.

 

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            "Tony!" Mason bellowed as he barreled out of his office and down the stairs. "Turn on CNN. NOW!"

            Frowning, Tony did as his boss asked. As the news came onto the screen, he found himself watching a reporting standing outside of St. Patrick's Cathedral in downtown Los Angeles.

            "For those of you who have just joined us, I'm standing in from of St. Patrick's Cathedral. There have been reports of multiple gunshots from inside, and the doors are barred. We have also heard screaming, presumably from the hostages inside. Law enforcement officers are trying to negotiate with the gunmen, but so far have not had any luck. But a source in the police department tells me that CTU – the Counter Terrorist Unit – has been called in."

            "Oh my God."

            Tony turned to see Michelle Dessler standing beside him, a hand over her mouth as she watched the TV screen. She had joined CTU shortly after the attempts on President Palmer, replacing Nina. So far she was working out well, quickly befriending both Ava and Tony.

            "What?" he asked, seeing worry etched across her features.

            She opened her mouth to answer when Mason stepped in.

            "They're releasing a video," he told them.

            "A video of what?"

            "I'm guessing their demands. They won't give it to authorities. They're sending a video feed through the news network."

            "How the hell are they doing that?"

            "Beats me. But apparently these guys are more sophisticated than your usual hired gunmen."

            The two men quieted as the picture on the screen changed. A figure hidden in darkness faced the camera, the shadows obscuring their face so that an I.D. was impossible. When they began to speak, it was obvious that they were using a voice changer to mask their identity even further.

            "You are probably expecting me to lay out my demands here, so that we can negotiate and you can save the lives of the hostages inside of St. Patrick's. But I am here to inform you that I have no demands. I do not want anything from you. There is nothing you can give me that would make me change my mind about what I'm about to do. This is about power, plain and simple. I have it. You don't. I can do anything at anytime, and there is nothing that you can do to stop me. These people inside of St. Patrick's will die – everyone single one of them. No negotiating or threatening will change that fact. My men have no concern for their own lives – their only mission is to prove to you that you are utterly powerless."

            The shadowy figure disappeared, and the inside of the cathedral became visible. Tony realized that they were looking at a live feed now. Mason yelled into the phone beside him before slamming it back down into its cradle.

            "Who was that?"

            "The network. They're trying to figure out where the video is coming from, but somebody is overriding their systems. I think we've just been introduced to a major player."

            One of the gunmen appeared on the screen, his black mask making it impossible to know who he was. Bending down, he dragged a young woman up off the floor, holding her in front of him so that everyone watching could get a good look at her face. She was sobbing, her body quaking with fear as her captor held her in place.

            "This is only the beginning," he growled.

            Bringing up his weapon, he shot her in the temple.

 

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            "Oh shit," Tony cursed, moving closer to the big screen so that he could get a better look.

            "That's what I was about to tell you," Michelle said quietly. "She was supposed to sing during the service."

            "What?" Mason demanded. "What are you talking about?"

            Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. Lifting a finger he pointed to two figures on the floor of the cathedral, their eyes wide as they watched the scene around them unfold.

            "Ava and Jen. They're there. In the cathedral."

 

           

 

Sabotage

Title: Sabotage
Fandom: House
Rating: R for language
A/N: This is my first attempt at anything House-related. Hope you enjoy. Thanks to Rory for helping me out with the plot!

            Let me tell you how this all began. It was House's fault, no matter what he says. If he had just left Wilson alone, none of this would have happened…

 

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            "What the hell were you thinking!?" Wilson demanded as he charged into the room.

            "That Britney really shouldn't have worn that outfit at the VMA's?" House replied, looking up from his whiteboard.

            Wilson's face contorted in rage as he seemed to search for some kind of retort to House's indifference. I shared a nervous glance with Foreman – neither of us had ever seen Wilson so angry before.

            "Do you know that you almost destroyed my car? It's going to cost $300 to fix it!" he finally exclaimed.

            "If I had almost destroyed it, it would have cost you at least $500."

            "Dammit, House! You had no right to do that!"

            "It was only a joke. If you and Cameron can't take a joke –"

            "A joke?" he scoffed. "You messed with my car so that it would break down. If I had gotten to the highway, I could have been killed! You steal my cell phone! And then you call Cameron and you lie to her about where I am! Just so that you can ruin our first date."

            "Aha!" House exclaimed. "So it was a date!"

            "Fuck you, Greg," Wilson spat out, before turning on his heel and storming out of the room.

            "You're stupid. Do you know that?" Foreman asked.

            "Hey! Did you know you're black?"

            I sighed, frustrated by House's childishness. "Why don't you just tell Cameron that you like her instead of sabotaging her dates?"

            "I don't like Cameron," he muttered.

            "Obviously. This is all about how much you like Wilson. Can't stand to see him paying attention to anybody else."

            House let his mouth drop open in an expression of exaggerated shock. "Gasp! Was that a veiled joke questioning my sexuality? Chase, you swore you'd never tell!"

            I just rolled my eyes. I knew that there was no arguing with him when he got like this.

            "It doesn't really matter," Foreman said as he stood up and headed for the door. "Cameron's moved on. Sabotage all the dates you want – she's interested in Wilson now. Not you."

 

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            I found Cameron in the lab, running tests on a patient's blood work. She gave me a small smile, but I could tell that it was taking a lot of effort to stay calm.

            "Hey," I said.

            "Hey."

            Sitting down next to her, I wracked my brain for some way to comfort her.

            "House is an idiot," I finally said.

            "What?"

            "House. He's an idiot."

            "What did he do this time?"

            "Well, he's the reason you're upset, isn't he?"

            "No. I'm upset over Wilson."

            "Why?"

            "Because he stood me up last night to go out with Cuddy."

            I frowned, certain things starting to click into place.

            "Wait. You haven't talked to Wilson today?"

            "No. I don’t trust myself to stay calm."

            "Did you tell anyone else about last night?"

            "Foreman."

            "You told Foreman? Why?"

            Cameron shrugged, confused by my questions.

            "Because he was giving me a hard time this morning. I just snapped and told him to leave me alone. It was bad enough that I had been stood up, I didn't need his crap on top of it."

            "He must have told Wilson," I murmured, lost in my own thoughts.

            "Chase, what are you talking about?"

            I looked at her closely. "Cameron, Wilson didn't stand you up."

            "Yes he did. House said he saw him –"

            "House is full of shit. He messed with Wilson's car so that it broke down and stole his cell phone so that he couldn't call you. Then he lied to you about where Wilson was."

            Her eyes flashed with anger.

            "Are you sure?"

            "Yeah, I'm sure. Wilson just came in and ripped House a new one! I've never seen him so angry before."

            Cameron nodded, taking deep breaths as she let everything process.

            "Okay."

            "Okay?" I asked. "That's it?"

            "I'll deal with House later. Right now I have a patient."

            I really didn't like the look in her eyes.

 

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            "Are you okay?" Foreman asked again.

            House glared at him. "I'm fine! Stop asking!"

            "You seem…hyper," I suggested.

            "Oh, so I'm not allowed to be in a chipper mood then? That's reserved for bleeding-heart women and silly-sounding Australian blokes?"

            "You're bouncing off the walls," Foreman interjected. "Are you on something?"

            "You mean other than Vicodin?" I asked icily. Then I stopped, staring at House suspiciously. "You haven't upgraded to anything else, have you?"

            "Seeing as how I don't have a prescription for anything else, that would be illegal, Chase."

            "Like that's stopped you before," I retorted.

            When we reached the landing of the stairs, Foreman turned and put an arm out, forcing House to stop.

            "Seriously, House. Something is wrong. Either you're on meds or you're doing more serious drugs."

            "You're such a downer. I thought the token black guy was supposed to be fun."

            "We're not letting you work on any more patients until you tell us what you're on."

            "I think the patients will enjoy me more like this."

            Footsteps caused me to turn around, and I saw Cameron charging up the stairs. Fury blazed in her eyes, and her hands were balled into fists. I wondered if I should step between her and House, but quite honestly, I wanted to see the bastard get what he deserved.

            "House!" she yelled.

            "Cameron!" he said theatrically.

            Spreading his arms, he suddenly twirled, his cane stretched out from his left hand. It collided with Cameron's chest, knocking her off-balance. Her arms wind-milled for a second or two, but just as Foreman and I reached out to grab her, she toppled backwards, crashing down the stairs.

            "What are you doing down there?" House asked quizzically.

            I rushed down to see if she was okay, Foreman right behind me. Kneeling next to her, I lifted her leg, probing gently. She hissed in pain.

            "It's broken," I sighed. Then I turned to look up at House. "You broke her ankle."

 

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            "This is all my fault," Wilson moaned as he walked into the exam room.

            Cameron smiled at him.

            "I beg to differ."

            "How? I'm the one who changed his meds."

            "So that was you? Chase said they were sure he was on something. What was it?"

            Wilson looked down at the floor. "Xanax."

            He was surprised when she laughed.

            "That would explain his mood then," she said.

            "But if I hadn't switched them, you wouldn't have broken your ankle."

            "True. But if House weren't addicted to painkillers, he wouldn't have been tricked into taking the wrong meds, either."

            "Yeah, but –"

            "And, it's what he deserves for ruining our date."

            "About that…do you think there's any chance we could try it again?"

            "I hope you're not suggesting I hobble around while you take me out to some nice restaurant."

            He smiled. "Not at all. I'm suggesting I come over to your place tonight and cook you a nice dinner."

            "I really like the sound of that."

            "You two are gross," Foreman stated as he walked into the room.

            "That's your fault," Cameron pointed out.

            "It's my fault that you're gross?"

            "It's your fault that Wilson found out about House's tricks. The only way he could have found out was if you told him that I thought I'd been stood up."

            Foreman shrugged.

            "Don't think this means I like you, Cameron. I just wanted to piss House off."

            "Regardless," she smiled. "Thank you."

            He returned her smile.

            "You're welcome."