Down!

by Debbie Pack

  Blair tied the final piece of rope in his hand to the makeshift harness, then slipped it over his shoulders, settling it into place and trying it for comfort. The rope bit deep into his shoulders when he gave it an experimental pull. That was going to get uncomfortable pretty quick. He continued speaking as he began to look around for something he could use as padding.

  With his vision growing dimmer he purposely avoided looking at Jim but knew his partner was leaned back against the wall. He had seen his eyes close a few moments before and let a faint smile cross his face. Whether he was asleep or not, at least Jim was resting.

  Something that looked promising for padding caught Blair's eye to the west side of the building where Jim sat. He stepped around the corner of the building, heading for the object. A weathered piece of canvas lay across a stack of what looked like cut fire wood. It made sense. At the time the sawmill had been active, wood burning stoves would have been the major source of heat around, and Blair knew from his own camping experience that often firewood was covered to help keep it dry.

  When he began to pull at portions of the canvas the rotting material gave way faster than he expected. Mold and bits of fiber floated upward into his face in a mini explosion. He tried to dodge the unexpected cloud, but in doing so, lost his balance and stumbled against the pile of wood. Flinging out an arm he caught himself just in time, then pushed himself back to both feet, only to stumble once more.

  The dizziness was back and when he blinked to clear away the fuzzy images before him they only became worse. His heart skipped a beat as he realized he could no longer see anything but blurry shadows.

  He froze in place, debating what his next move should be when all hell broke loose.

  * * * *

  Jim gave a start as he woke from a light doze. His heart pounded as he realized he had let his guard down. He shook his head to clear the sleep from his brain, silently cursing himself. How long had he been asleep? He glanced at his watch and realized it hadn't survived the caving in of the roof, but judging by the location of the sun, only a few minutes had passed.

  Jim shifted his weight, trying for a more comfortable position with his braced leg. He stopped mid-motion as the movement reawaken the pain. Anger flared at his helplessness and it took a great deal of self-control to keep from bellowing out his frustration.

  After a moment he listened and could hear Blair, just beyond his line of sight, speaking aloud, obviously for Jim's benefit. Blair's voice had lapsed into his lecture mode and was continuing with volumes of information on Native Americans and their culture.

  Jim smiled as he realized that it had been the calming effect of Blair's voice combined with the warmth of the rising sun and the strenuous exercise of the past few days that had lull him into such a relaxed state that he'd fallen asleep. *Damn that kid was good.*

  For probably the thousandth time he wondered how the offbeat graduate student had managed to work his way past the walls and barriers Jim had managed to erect around his life. Or for that matter, around his heart. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs. In all honesty it didn't matter how, the fact was he had and the impotent feeling Jim was experiencing at being unable to fully protect the younger man was eating at his soul.

  When they had first partnered, Jim had never planned for Blair to become as involved in police work as he had, but the anthropologist's aptitude and intelligence had helped bring more than one criminal to justice. He couldn't over look that fact. He was certain Blair had gotten much more than he had bargained for.

  Jim heard Blair's speech falter for a moment and automatically expanded his focus of hearing to include the younger man's heart rate and breathing. His partner's heart was racing again and his breathing had become ragged. Jim narrowed his eyes. He knew both signs were further indications of the head injury Blair was trying to hide from him.

  He felt anger rising again and knew it was directed toward several different directions. At Blair, for attempting to hide the injury, at circumstances in general for him being injured in the first place and at himself for his inability to do more for his injured partner. Reason told him he was doing the best he could under the circumstances, but his sense of responsibility told him otherwise.

  Blair had been right, they didn't have the luxury of being able to hold up until help arrived. With Whittaker close behind them they....

  Jim's face paled as his sensitive hearing picked up distant voices. He focused, filtering out the surrounding forest sounds.

  *I can pick him off from here.*

  *No! Not yet.*

  *Why not? We have them both now and you said yourself the FBI couldn't be very far behind. Let's do it and get the hell out of here.*

  Jim's heart pounded louder, almost overwhelming his efforts to hear the conversation.

  Someone with a cultured voice and soft British accent sighed in exasperation.

  *We don't know for certain that they still have the diamonds on them. Suppose they have decided to hide them along the way. I am not ready to chance ten million dollars to your impatient trigger finger, Morely.*

  *Look, Whittaker. At least let me take care of one of them. We don't need both.*

  *That, my friend, is where you're wrong. We may need one to use as leverage against the other.*

  Jim could hear the cold sneer in the other man's voice.

  *Alright, Whittaker. You win. This time.*

  Jim shook his head to bring himself back to his present position. He couldn't let them sneak up on him and Sandburg. They were already too close. Their options had just run out. He drew his weapon and fired toward the thieves at the same moment he yelled.

  "SANDBURG! GET DOWN!"

  A series of wild shots sent splinters of wood flying from the wall Jim was propped against. Blair had helped him move out into the warmth of the sunshine as they had prepared the travois. Now, he scrambled unassisted back to the limited safety of the collapsed building, trying to ignore the agony generated from his leg.

  Flat on his stomach, he leveled his gun in a two-fisted grip. Logic and an in-born sense of survival told him to locate the gunman, but a stronger sense drove him instead to search for his partner.

  With a desperate, sinking feeling he listened, praying to hear Sandburg's heartbeat. Despite the conversation he had heard, the shots that had been fired in his direction had come perilously close. If Sandburg had been moving when the gunfire had begun, one of the shots aimed in his direction could have found its mark.

  It took a moment to filter out the dying echos of the gunfire, but when he did Jim was rewarded with the frantic, familiar rhythm and immediately sent a silent thanks to what ever deity was looking out for the young anthropologist.

  "Sandburg," he called softly. He could tell the kid was nearby. "Sandburg," he called more urgently.

  "Jim?" Ellison heard the obvious relief in the wavering voice. "Oh god, man. I was sure they'd shot you."

  "I'm fine. Were you hit?" He knew Whittaker didn't want them dead until he was sure he had the diamonds in hand, but with the younger man's heart-rate and breathing so erratic, it was hard to tell if the sniper had missed or not.

  "Um...no, I wasn't."

  Jim noted something besides fear evident in Blair's voice. "Chief? What is it?" He recalled the falter he had heard in his friend's voice and the sound of his ragged breathing only moments before the shooting. The seconds stretched in to an eternity until Jim found himself wishing he could get his hands on the reluctant student. "Talk to me."

  "Um..I've got a little problem here, Jim."

  Ellison's heart pounded in his chest as he reminded himself that Blair had said he hadn't been shot. "What is it?" he demanded.

  "I...ah...I can't see, Jim."

  "What?!"

  "I can't see."

  There was a catch in the kid's voice that Jim recognized as the beginnings of a panic attack.

  *Dear God, what next?*

  Jim took a couple of deep breaths. He had to make sure his voice was calm if
he was going to be able to keep Sandburg calm. He closed his eyes and focused his hearing on Blair's heartbeat in order to visualize the younger man's location. He felt a slight twinge of relief as he pinpointed him just to the west side of the collapsed building. At least he was out of the line of fire for the moment. "Okay, Blair, stay where you are. I'll get you."

  "Jim. You can't. Your leg."

  Ellison smiled at his partner's continued concern in spite of his own condition.

  "You let me worry about my leg. Just stay put." Jim paused to listen to his partner's reaction. "Did you hear me. Chief?"

  "Yeah. Yeah. I heard, but I really don't think you should......"

  "Sandburg. I said stay put. And don't worry about my leg."

  "O...Okay."

  Jim heard the soft acknowledgment just before a second volley of gunfire erupted from a line of trees only fifty feet away. He fired off two shots, hoping to discourage closer advancement by the killers, then dragged himself further into the shelter of the building and toward the wall where he could hear Blair.

  A distant rumble caught his attention. The sounds were unmistakably the engine of a vehicle and it was coming from the opposite direction where the gunfire had originated. Was it Whittaker's reinforcement? Or help for Jim and Blair?

  Jim scrambled faster to the wall. He had seen a section of the wall about ten feet back from where he had pinpointed Blair's position. Haphazard repairs had been done on rotted wood years before and with any luck he would be able to pry them lose.

  The odds were strongly against them, but Jim would be damned before he'd let his partner -his friend- die alone and blind. If they were going to be killed, he could at least make sure they were together. And, if the noise he had heard to the west was Simon and help for them, then they needed to stall Whittaker a little longer.

  No longer concerned with any additional damage done to his leg, Jim reached the wall and began tearing at the shoddy repair with bare hands.

  His hearing immediately picked up the increase in Blair's heart before he realized his mistake in not informing the anthropologist of his intentions. "Blair. It's okay," he called through the wall, "It's only me."

  With a final push at the remaining piece of board, Jim stuck his head and shoulders through the opening.

  The sight that greeted him tugged at his heart. Sandburg was huddled against the side of the building, attempting to make himself as small a target as possible. The expressive face was pale in the morning light and the bruises along the left side of his head and face stood out in sharp contrast. The eyes that normally sparkled with life and a thirst for knowledge were fearful and wide beyond belief. "Chief. Come toward my voice."

  Almost instantly, Blair scrambled toward him. Blindly groping the area before him in an obvious attempt to reach Jim.

  Ellison grasped his hand as soon as it was within range and pulled the slighter man into the safety of the building. It wasn't much of a haven but it would give them a few minutes of leeway.

  Once safely inside, Jim pulled his partner into a fierce hug and maneuvered them both to a position where Jim could keep his eye on the doorway toward the killers.

  "You okay, buddy?" he asked, taking Blair's chin in his hand and forcing his head up for a better look into his eyes. When Blair remained silent, Jim shook him gently by the shoulders. "Hey?

  You okay?"

  Slowly, as if coming out of a fog, Blair nodded. "I think so," he said hesitantly.

  Jim continued to check his eyes and used one hand to lightly touch the injured area of his head. "Sorry," he said when Blair winced, "Can you see anything at all, Chief?" he asked.

  "I can see points of light but mostly, everything is dark."

  Jim continued to explore the injury, detecting a large swelling along the side of his forehead. Hopefully, the loss of sight was due to that swelling and should return as soon as the swelling was reduced. *It had to.*

  Another round of gunfire erupted, closer still. Jim wrapped one arm around Blair's shoulders with a short warning before firing at one of the gunmen he could now see beginning to approach. The man went down with a bullet in his heart.

  "Jim. What're we gonna do?"

  Sightless eyes flicked back and forth, as if trying to see beyond their uselessness. Jim snapped off another shot at a figure he saw gaining the courage to begin advancement.

  Things were definitely coming to a head. Whittaker's people were becoming more bold and Jim had heard multiple engines coming up the logging road from the west. Another assault was launched from Wittaker's people, peppering the old building with gunfire, forcing Jim to shut down his hearing once again and effectively keeping he and Blair pinned down as the killers advanced.

  With an eye toward the east and having to keep his hearing tuned down to prevent the thunder of gunfire from deafening him, Jim suddenly realized he had lost track of the approaching vehicles. If what he had heard wasn't help for he and Blair, he vowed to take out as many of them as possible.

  He had briefly entertained the idea of tossing the diamonds out to Whittaker as a diversion, but had squelched it when he realized the diamonds were the only thing keeping he and Blair alive. Once Whittaker had the diamonds, he'd have no further use for either of them.

  Jim could feel Blair's body trembling and knew it was taking a monumental effort by his partner to maintain his hold on reality. Blair was one of the most resourceful individuals Jim had ever known, but this was too much for even the most capable of persons. Being shot at was bad enough, but not being able to see what was going on....

  The situation seemed hopeless. Jim was crippled and couldn't make a run for it, Blair was blind and couldn't see to make a run for, Whittaker's killers were coming at them from the east and unknowns were approaching from the west.

  "Jim?" Blair's soft voice came from beside him.

  "Yeah, buddy. What is it?" Jim's eyes flicked quickly down to his partner then back to the doorway.

  "We're trapped, aren't we?"

  Ellison swallowed hard before answering. He hated the note of resignation he heard in Sandburg's voice but he knew this was not the time for sugar-coating. "It's not looking good," he admitted taking a deep breath.

  A faint whiff of a familiar odor tickled Jim's nose. He sniffed again and felt the first ray of true hope since the plane had crashed.

  *Cigars!*

  "I was afraid of that.....," Blair continued.

  Jim placed a comforting hand on Blair's shoulder to quiet him and let a smile fill his voice. "Don't write us off yet, Chief. I think the calvary's just arrived."

  "What?"

  "Shhhh...hold on a minute."

  Keeping his body between Blair and the open doorway, Jim turned enough to see shadows cross the opening he had created for the young man to crawl through a short time ago.

  "Jim?!"

  A smile spread across the sentinel's face. "Simon!" he called. "We're here. Inside the building."

  Jim heard the relief flood his captain's voice with the whispered, "Thank God."

  * * * *

  Simon had eased himself to the edge of the building and held his position. Waiting.

  When he and the FBI agents had neared the area of the abandoned sawmill and heard the automatic gunfire, Thompson had given the order to leave the vehicles and proceed on foot. So far, they had the advantage of surprise and Thompson had decided to use it in their favor. They had crested the rise surrounding the area during a third burst of gunfire and Thompson had given the order to surround the shooters.

  Simon had volunteered to make his way to Jim and Blair. Although he had not yet seen the two, the concentration of fire on the largest of the abandoned buildings led him to them in short order. When he heard the twin explosions of Ellison's handgun, he knew he had the correct place. He stealthy made his way to the building, sliding past a ragged opening to the front edge facing the snipers. A careful peek around the corner had assured him the gunfire was still aimed at the old building. He had nearly jump
ed out of his skin when Ellison had called to him, then after his whispered thanks, he had scooted himself back to the hole in the side of wall he had passed earlier.

  He stuck his head and shoulders into the opening, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer interior. What he saw made his stomach clinch.

  Besides the fact that more than half the roof and the majority of the back walls lay in shambles, he saw his detective leaning against the wall with a makeshift brace encasing his entire left leg. Both Jim and Sandburg looked exhausted and more than a little disheveled. He noted Jim's arm remained around the kid's shoulders as he fired his handgun once more. Sandburg's jump at the loud report was, in itself, not unusual but the rapid flicking of his eyes back and forth was. Simon had seen a look very similar to that on the kid's face after the Lash incident. He'd been dazed by the blows from the killer and still partially drugged, unable to focus on the concerned faces surrounding him, in effect, partially blind. Simon felt his stomach clinch again as Jim confirmed his suspicions.

  "It's okay, Chief. It's Simon."

  A tentative smile broke across the frightened face, partially hidden by long curls. "Simon," he breathed, "Man, is it good to s... that you're here. Hope you brought reinforcements."

  The larger man couldn't help but smile at the words. "Oh...I brought a few," he said, switching his gaze to Jim's injury. "How you doing, Jim?"

  "I'm okay, Captain. Glad to see you."

  "What about..." Simon's voice trailed off as he indicated Jim's leg.

  Another smile, this one more of a reassurance gesture, crossed Jim's face as he readjusted his hold around Sandburg's shoulders. "It's okay. My partner fixed me up."

  Simon saw a tentative look of nervousness appear on the younger man's face. It was unnerving to watch those normally sparkling eyes shadowed in fear and uncertainty. "Looks like he did a good job." The man knew he'd get the full story from Ellison as soon as things settled down.

  More shots began again, this time firing from the surrounding area. Simon knew Thompson and this men were making their move.