by Carol Roi
Joe shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dee. My heart breaks for you. I know how much you love him; I can see it in your face right now."
"I can't think about that now, Joe. I have to concentrate on keeping the two of us alive until Cristo goes before the grand jury next week. Then I can worry about us." Or maybe just run off to the Himalayas. The rest of the drive to Seacouver was spent in silence.
Part 4
Ellison replaced the phone slowly in its cradle, his mind whirling. Blair and Dee were alive! He felt Megan tugging at him. "Jim, damn it, what's going on? Was that them? Are Sandy and Dee okay?"
"Um, yeah, yeah, they're fine. I gotta talk to Simon."
Captain Banks chose that moment to enter the loft. "Jim, Megan, " he began, "the fire department's still working on the vehicle. It'll be awhile before we can examine it."
Jim jumped in before Banks could go any further. "Sandburg and Pallas are alive. They just called here."
The expression on Simon's face was a mixture of joy and confusion. "How is that possible? We haven't gone over the car yet, but the bomb squad is saying the explosion was probably triggered when the ignition was switched off. There's no way that can be done from a distance."
Shaking his head, Jim said, "They didn't give me all the details, but they wanted to let us know they were okay." He knew Simon was going to hate the next part. "They're going into hiding. Even I don't know where they are."
"You didn't try to talk them out of it? No, scratch that, Pallas is just as stubborn as you are, Jim. This had to have been her idea. Damn it!" The tall man took a cigar from his pocket and bit down on it in frustration.
"She wanted to know if we could keep it quiet about them escaping the explosion, sir, and I think that's a good idea. If Cristo thinks they're dead, he won't keep coming after them."
Simon sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I guess I can call in a few favors, make it look like they died."
Megan, who had kept silent until now, spoke up. "If I may make a suggestion, sir? No one but the three of us knows I wasn't in Dee's car also. She was supposed to have picked me up at the station when she got her car, but Jim and I left before they arrived. If Cristo thinks both Sandy and I are dead, he may slip up and we can catch him. If not, at least we'll be able to testify."
Simon gazed at the Inspector, his expression thoughtful. "A good idea, Connor, but just where are we going to put you until then? The safe house is out, and here is too obvious. I'm sure Cristo will still be keeping an eye on Ellison, seeing if he's properly broken up over his partner's 'death'."
"I have a couple solutions for those problems, Captain," Jim said. "You still have that cabin up north of Seacouver, correct?" At Simon's nod, he continued, "I propose I take Megan up there until the trial."
"And just how are you going to keep Cristo from suspecting something, Jim?"
"I'll be dead too, sir. Despondent over the death of my partner, and two other people I was supposed to be protecting, I'll have a little 'accident' while cleaning my gun." The expression on his face was deadly serious.
Simon chewed the end of his cigar, knowing that this was the best plan they could come up with, but the vision of his friend eating his gun after Sandburg's death hit very close to home. "All right, Jim, I'll see what I can arrange. I'll put Rafe and Brown on the investigation, and Joel on getting the two of you out of here without being seen. I'm going to try to keep this in Major Crimes, with people we know we can trust. I won't, however, let them know Sandburg and Pallas are alive. They'll have to know about you, though."
Jim nodded in agreement. "Thanks, Simon, and I know Dee and Sandburg appreciate your help also." He glanced at Megan. "I guess we should start packing for a week in the woods."
"I'll get my stuff together," she said, and headed across the hall to Dee's apartment.
Simon watched her go, then said, "Are you sure the two of you are going to be all right? Nothing against Connor, but, and I hate to say it, I feel better when Sandburg is the one watching your back."
"I wish things were different, too, Simon, but I think she'll do fine. Chief's been working with her, and she has the raw talent for being a guide; we worked okay together on that robbery last week."
Despite his words, Simon could see Jim was worried. "How's she holding up?" he asked.
A small smile touched Jim's lips. "She's tougher than she looks, sir. Diandra's been working with her, working on getting her confidence in herself back, and I think things will be better now that Connor's chosen to take charge of her own defense."
"What about Sandburg and Pallas? Should I be worrying about them? This Sentinel/Guide stuff gives me a headache, and now that there are two of you... "
Jim felt a small knot of envy form in his stomach at the thought of Diandra and Blair together on a secluded island. "I don't think you have anything to worry about there, Simon. I'm sure the two of them are welcoming the time alone."
If Simon didn't know better, he could have sworn the detective's words held a trace of bitterness.
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Blair followed Dee into the bedroom of her apartment over MacLeod's dojo. Joe had dropped them off, promising he'd be back in an hour or so, giving them a chance to get cleaned up and packed, while he picked up some supplies for them. Sitting down gingerly on the bed, he dropped his backpack to the floor, and rubbed his eyes wearily. Despite the sleep he'd gotten in Joe's van, he was exhausted.
"You want the shower first, Lobo?" Dee called from the bathroom. She stuck her head around the corner of the door.
Blair shook his head. "You go ahead, you need it more than I do."
She gave him a wry grin. "Thanks, I think."
"You know that wasn't what I meant... "
She wandered the rest of the way into the bedroom, and dropped to her knees beside him. "You sure you're okay with this?" she asked.
"With the shower? Yeah, you can go first." Seeing her raised eyebrow, he said, "Oh, you mean with us running away and leaving Jim and Megan to fend for themselves? I understand it, but I don't have to like it. I'd feel better if we were all together."
Dee took hold of his hand. "I'd feel better if Cristo were dead, and this was all over. Have a little faith in Ellison, Lobo. He will keep Megan safe, and he knows I won't let anything happen to you." She reached up to stroke his cheek, and he pressed his face against her hand, finding solace in the intimate contact.
"I wish I knew what his plan was... " he started to say, when his backpack trilled. Snagging his phone out of the front pocket, he said, "Hello."
"Chief, it's Jim. I just wanted to let you know everything is taken care of here. Simon is going to issue a press release in about an hour, stating that you and Dee were killed when her SUV exploded. I just don't want you to worry about the other names in the statement."
Blair shot Dee a puzzled glance. "What other names?"
"Megan was in the car with you, and I had a little accident cleaning my gun," Ellison said, failing to keep the self-satisfied tone out of his voice. "That way it'll look like all Cristo's troubles are over, and maybe he'll lay off, figuring that the grand jury will fall through without the star witnesses."
"So we're all dead... where are the two of you going to hide out?"
"Simon's cabin is close to where Dee's taking you. Megan and I are going to head up there. That way we'll be nearby, but if Cristo suspects anything, he'll have to split his forces to get at us."
Dee nodded at Blair to show she'd heard Jim, then rose and headed for the shower. "You still there, Chief?" Jim asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Dee got everything; she's gone to take a shower."
Ellison's tone softened, "How are you doing, Blair? Are you okay with this?"
The anthropologist laughed. "Man, Jim, you two are so much alike it's scary. Dee just asked me the same question. Yeah, I'm okay. I'm better now that I know what you're up to."
"You weren't hurt in the explosion? How i
n the world did you manage not to get killed? Not that I'm complaining, but... "
"I... I'm just sore all over, and I sprained my knee, but other than that, I'm fine. Dee yelled at me to run just before the bomb went off; I think she sensed it somehow, but too late to stop it." He lowered his voice to a whisper, "She died, Jim. It was awful, and all I could think was 'thank god it wasn't you in the car with me'."
"Yeah, well, that's all I could think of too," Jim replied. "That was way too close, Chief. Look, they're getting ready to whisk us out of here, so if I don't talk to you before the court date, be careful, and stay safe. Take care of each other; watch her back, okay? I want to see you walk into that courtroom on Monday and blow Cristo away."
Blair managed to speak around the lump in his throat. "Sure, Jim, we'll be careful. You too, okay?"
"That's a promise, Chief." Blair cut the connection, and put the phone away, saying a silent prayer for all of them.
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Megan sat huddled in the passenger seat of a borrowed Bronco, watching as Ellison skillfully maneuvered the off-road vehicle along a one-lane dirt road. The snow that had started a few minutes after the fateful phone call from Dee had increased steadily as they'd climbed further into the mountains, and made driving treacherous. She was glad the Sentinel was at the wheel instead of her. She'd lived in the States for a couple years now, but had never gotten the hang of winter driving, seeing as Cascade was known more for its rain than its snow.
The past few hours had been a rollercoaster of actions and emotions. First had been the explosion, and the overwhelming grief she'd felt at the news that Sandy and Dee had perished, followed closely on its heels by the indescribable joy at the revelation they were alive. She knew from listening to Ellison's one-sided conversations with both Blair and Dee that the two of them should be dead, but weren't. She suspected there was a story there, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, at least not at the moment. But the next time she was alone with Sandy, she would get it out of him. Her lips curved up in a smile at that notion.
A sharp gasp from Jim jolted her from her thoughts. "Ellison! What is it?" He was clutching the steering wheel tightly, every muscle in his body rigid. "Jim!" she screamed, trying to get through to him, as the truck headed for the steep drop-off at the edge of the road.
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Blair crossed the wood floor of the dojo, and headed out the exit, carefully negotiating the icy stairs to the alley. Dee was still upstairs packing, more weapons he suspected, and had asked him to go see if Joe had returned. Setting his bags on the ground, he peered down the narrow street, wondering if the headlights turning at the corner belonged to Joe's van.
The hauntingly familiar sound of steel being drawn from a scabbard reached his ears, and he turned in the direction of the noise. A tall, trench-coated figure stepped from the shadows into the yellow light from the security lamp. "I am Oren Hale of the Philadelphia Hales, and I challenge you, Duncan MacLeod," he said, his voice level, and quite pleasant.
Blair stared at him, mouth open. This guy thought he was MacLeod? What drugs was he taking? After a few shocked seconds, he found his voice, "Sorry, buddy, you have the wrong guy. MacLeod's out of the country."
The lean man shrugged, and lazily brought his sword, a two-handed bastard sword, Blair noted, into a ready position. "Very well, then I shall have to make do with you."
He took a step forward, and Blair automatically stepped back, casting his gaze about for a weapon. This guy thought he was immortal? How stupid could this guy be? Blair didn't have a Buzz... oh, shit, he realized, he's picking up on Dee, who at two floors up was well within Immortal radar. "Now would be a good time to make an appearance, Dee," he thought, as he moved away from Hale's first swing.
"Caught you out without a weapon, eh little one? Too bad for you." He swung the huge blade again, and Blair darted to the side, feeling his injured knee protest. Having located nothing he could use to defend himself, Blair called upon Dee's training, ducking under the sword and landing a punch to Hale's midsection before dancing out of range.
They circled each other, Hale wary now that he knew Blair was going to put up a fight. For his part, Blair watched for an opening, and when he saw the tip of the heavy sword lower, he went for it, stepping inside the Immortal's guard and nailing him with a right roundhouse kick to the head. Hale staggered back, and Blair moved forward to continue the attack, but the slick pavement and his weak leg were his undoing. He slipped, and as he scrambled to stay on his feet, his left leg gave out, throwing him to his knees. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see Hale poised to deliver the killing stroke. Blair's whispered, "I'm sorry, Jim," echoed in the snowy silence.
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Grabbing the steering wheel with both hands, Megan yanked it to the right as she struggled to reach the brake. The Bronco fishtailed on the snow-covered trail, but headed away from the cliff, straight toward a line of trees. Jamming the transmission into neutral, she fought for control, sprawled awkwardly across the still unresponsive Jim. Missing a head-on collision with a Ponderosa pine by inches, the truck sideswiped a couple more, and came to a stop well off to the side of the road. Putting it into park, she turned to Jim, shaking him and calling his name. His eyes were open, but they were fixed on some point she couldn't see, far off in the distance, and deep inside him. If this was a zone out, it was like none she'd ever witnessed before. Still, maybe the tried and true method would bring him out of it. She began to rub his hand, speaking to him softly.
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Time slowed, seconds becoming minutes, and minutes hours. Blair felt the cold, wet snow soaking through the knees of his jeans as clearly as he saw the blade descending toward him. Footsteps pounded on wood planks, and he looked up past Hale's silhouette to the large black mare leaping over the stair rail. Her body twisted in the air, and shifted into Dee, her katana flashing in the faint light, sliding through flesh and bone and sinew as though it were paper.
She landed on her feet, facing the other Immortal, as dead fingers released their grip on his sword. Her free hand catching at his lapel kept his body from falling on Blair as Hale's head dropped to the ground, rolling to a stop a few feet away.
Time sped up to normal as Dee let go of the dead man, yelling, "Lobo, run!" A white swirling mist surrounded them, rising from Hale's body. Blair tried to stand, but his knee gave out again, Dee catching him as he fell. Energy crackled, and a bolt of lightening struck her from behind. Power surged through every cell of her body, down her arms, out through her hands, and into Blair. Never in his worst nightmares had he ever imagined such pain. A scream from the depths of his soul spilled from his lips, joining her voice in an agonized duet.
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Megan continued to talk to Jim, begging him, pleading him to come back to her. Sandy would never forgive her if anything happened to Jim. "Come on, Jim, snap out of it!" she growled in frustration. "You wouldn't do this to Sandy!"
At the mention of his partner's name, Jim twitched, and Megan felt relief flood through her, until the twitch turned into violent convulsions. Throwing herself over him, she tried to keep him from injuring himself.
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The Quickening lasted an eternity, lighting up the alley as bright as day. Bolts of energy continued to pour from the dead Immortal, bouncing off the walls, the stairs, the dumpster, shorting out the street lamps, and always, always grounding to the Champion and Guide caught in their deadly grasp.
It finally ended, leaving behind broken glass and a small fire burning in a puddle of oil. Diandra slumped to the ground, her arms still
wrapped around the anthropologist, her body humming with power. Inhaling a deep breath of ozone charged air, her head cleared. "Lobo?" she whispered, her throat raw from screaming. Turning him on his back, she listened for his heartbeat, finding it racing. Brushing her hand across his face, she found his skin cold and clammy, and no warm breath caressed her fingers. Goddess, he wasn't breathing!
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Jim's convulsions went on forever, or so it seemed to Megan, though in reality, she knew the episode couldn't have lasted for much more than a minute. When he collapsed against her, his body limp, her fingers went immediately to the pulse at his throat, finding it strong, but very fast. Leaning over, she listened for the sound of air rushing into his lungs, but there was none. Bloody hell, he wasn't breathing!
