He allows himself a second to breathe, but no more than that. She's OK, and even if the number of variables goes up at the simple word -- 'we' -- there's room for them to move. He relaxes, more his mind than anything else, as his whole body is now thrown into the effort of finding a way in. He pores over the hill of fallen rocks, calculating each action and subsequent reaction, predicting rocks falling in or tumbling out, structural damage, depth, difficulty.

"I think so," he calls, climbing over to the most favorable access point. "Listen, Kate. I need you to get yourself and anyone else back there away from this wall, OK? I'll keep talking, you just move as far away from this point as you can. Do you understand?"

He adjusts the straps of his shield, hand gripping tight. As much as he complains about the uniform, he wishes he had his tactical gear. The sneakers he's wearing don't grip as well, pants and shirt offering next to no protection, hands bare and already bleeding. But nothing's going to stop him from getting through. "I'm coming to get you."