by Carol Roi
When Blair is finally satisfied with what they've done, they return to me. Once again, he helps me walk, only this time it's not far, just to a huge fir whose low hanging branches drag on the ground. "Both of you, in there," he commands, pointing. I crawl underneath the limbs and lie on my stomach in the snow, quickly realizing it's an ideal hiding place. Esme follows in a moment, after Blair removes something from the pack she's carrying. He sticks whatever it is in his pocket, then stamps another false trail over the marks we made sliding under the tree.
That task complete, Sandburg walks into the center of the clearing and draws his staff, twisting the two ends together until they lock into place with a snap. He drops the pole on the ground, the snow deep enough that it vanishes from sight. Walking over to one of the trees, he grabs a limb and hauls himself up until he's hidden among the branches. I watch as his hat flutters down to rest at the base of the tree. What in the hell are you up to, Blair, I wonder.
Now comes the hard part: waiting. I can hear the three men following our trail, but it will be a couple minutes before they reach us. Peering out between the branches, I can barely see my partner. He's crouched on a limb about ten feet up the tree, and his heart is pounding. I smile as I pick up his whispered words. "Don't look down, man, don't look down."
"Hey! Over here!" Three men dressed in snowmobile suits and carrying handguns enter the clearing. They come to a standstill at the sight of the maze of tracks.
"What in the hell is this?" one of them asks.
"A pitiful attempt to fool us," the one who appears to be the leader says. This must be George. "Esme! Come out and we won't hurt you!"
I glance at her to find she has her hands over her ears and her eyes squeezed shut. Her heart is racing, but she makes no sound.
One of the men spies Blair's hat. Walking over to the tree, he bends to pick it up. A bone-chilling cry issuing from his lips, Sandburg drops from his hiding place, landing feet-first on the man's back, knocking him into the tree trunk. His head impacts the wood with a loud thunk, and he is down for the count. Two shots ring out as George and his friend fire in Blair's direction, but my partner is no longer there. He is diving forward in a somersault, rolling to his feet with his staff clasped in both hands. He sweeps George's feet out from under him, sending him sprawling, his gun flying from his grasp to land in a snow bank. The opposite end of Blair's staff strikes the third man's arm, forcing his weapon up. Sandburg follows through with a back roundhouse kick to the head, and in less than thirty seconds, he is the only one left standing.
I am... speechless.
George makes the mistake of trying to go for his gun. The end of Blair's staff slams into his chest. "Uh-uh. Don't even think about it. On your stomach, hands behind your back." The man complies, and I now realize what Blair had retrieved from his backpack. He wraps the zip-tie around the man's wrists and tightens it, then does the same for the other two men. Collecting their weapons from where they had fallen, he finally turns toward our hiding place. "You can come out now."
Esme scoots out from under the branches, dashes across the clearing, and throws her arms around Blair. "Oh my gosh, you saved me! I can't believe it! That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"
I crawl out into the open, thinking the same thing. I have seriously underestimated my partner. I knew he had spent a great deal of time training with Dee, but I... I don't know what I had thought he was learning. I'd watched them work once, and at the time, I suspected it was a show put on for my benefit. Now I know differently. I never doubted his abilities as my partner, or his willingness to protect me. I just never suspected he was so... proficient at it.
Disentangling himself from Esme, Sandburg comes over to give me a hand up from the snow. "Come on, Jim, let's get these guys back to the cabin, and hopefully the rangers should be along soon."
I nod at him. "I can hear a helicopter. Hopefully that's them." He gives me his staff, and leaning on that and Esme's shoulder, I make it back to the cabin. Blair brings up the rear with our three prisoners.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Several hours later the local authorities have come and gone, taking George and his friends with them. Despite my desire to get headed back to Cascade, Sandburg has decided that I'm not up to the long drive after my earlier exertions. I secretly agree with him, but I argue because he expects it. Now I'm back in bed, and he's in the chair beside me, holding out a cup of soup. Esme is curled up in blankets on the floor, finally able to sleep now that George is in custody.
Blair notes my interest in her sleeping form as I take the mug from him. "You know it's not over yet."
"Hmm?" I manage around a mouthful of broth.
"For Esme. It's not over yet. She still has to stand trial for embezzlement. Unless Frank suddenly shows up." He peers at me over his own cup.
"What? You think we should go looking for him?"
He grins at me. "There's that psychic link between us. You read my mind."
"Chief... " But it's only a token protest. I know that with a minimum of arm-twisting he will convince me to go along with him.
His talk of psychic bonds reminds me of the dream I had during my fever. I debate telling him about it, but decide against it. I mean, I don't know if it was really a spirit vision, or just a feverish hallucination. What's the sense in getting his hopes up only to break his heart again if it isn't true? I take another drink, my eyes on him. He is watching Esme sleep. It's obvious she's developed quite a crush on him after this afternoon's heroics, and it looks like it's returned. No, I decide, I'm gonna keep Dee's cryptic words to myself for now, do a little investigating on the sly. If--no, when--I find out something concrete, I'll let him know.
But right now I'm just content to enjoy the feeling that for once all is right in the world. Reaching over, I give his forearm a squeeze. He raises an eyebrow at me. "What's that for?" he asks.
I give him a smile. "Just my way of saying thanks for saving my ass again, Chief."
Blair grins right back at me, his eyes shining in the firelight. "I think I'm gonna like the Jim Ellison of the new millenium."
"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," I tell him. He lightly punches my arm, laughing. Closing my eyes, I fall asleep to that wonderful sound.
Finis
