By 8:00 that morning, when his friend in the precinct impound yard called to say he had just towed in a car with his cell phone inside, he decided the joke had gone far enough.
Jim checked the phone, noting the dead battery with a shake of his head. He had just turned to storm back upstairs to his office when he spotted the pack in the back seat. He reached in, pulled the pack out and gave it a quick glance. "Find what you're looking for?"
Jim glanced up, "Yes, Alan, thanks." He waved to the yard chief and hoisted the pack over his shoulder.
Back upstairs Jim tossed the pack and phone onto his desk, nodding at Simon as he walked from the coffee pot to his office.
"Man, I forgot what the morning after can feel like." Simon said as he passed.
Jim smiled, "You're not getting any younger."
Simon gave him a dirty look, then glanced around the office. "Hey, where's your trusty sidekick?"
Jim's smile left as he sat down behind the desk, fingering Blair's pack. "I don't know." he replied. "His car broke down last night. It's in the impound right now. I told him to take a cab, even gave him the cash." He glanced at the cell phone, "I gave that to him, but the battery is dead. I'm not sure if he left it on all night in the car or what." He was just taking the back off the phone when the unmistakable odor of leaking battery acid assaulted his nose. Jim looked back at the pack and began to open the clasp. "The battery's bad."
"Hey, wait a minute, Jim. You can't go rifling through his stuff." Simon held out a hand. "He's probably at the University, working on a ride home or something."
Jim shook his head, "No Simon, I checked." He opened the pack and paused, hands poised to begin emptying the contents. "No one saw him in the lecture audience, no one's heard from him. His car got towed in. Something's not right." He had stopped before reaching into the pack, and now just held it open as wide as he could. "At first, I thought he might just be mad at me." He glanced up at Simon, "He wanted the truck last night. But he wouldn't do this. He would have called, at least found a phone and left a message. This isn't him at all." Jim gazed back into the bag, focusing on the contents. Just the usual assortment of books, notebooks, and such. Then, as he was closing it back up with a shake of his head, he spotted something.
"Simon, put out an APB." Jim said matter-of-factly. He stood, picked up the bag, and turned to leave. "There's blood on this."
Simon took a step forward, "Wait a minute, Jim. Are you sure it's blood? It could be old. It could be from any number of things." He was shaking his head skeptically. "He's only been gone a few hours."
"No, Simon, this isn't something Blair would do." Jim continued down the hallway towards the elevator and hit the down button. "I'm taking this down to forensics, see how fresh it really is." He entered the elevator. "Just get that APB, please."
Jim pushed the 'door close' and proceeded down to the lab. On the way down he fingered the blood smear with Sentinel touch, feeling the residual dampness that told him this blood wasn't even 12 hours old. Dammit, Blair, where are you? The elevator was taking forever to descend two floors. Jim tried to think of any other reason why there would be fresh blood on Blair's pack. Other reasons for Blair not coming home, not calling him. There were none. His friend could be a little flighty. He could be an emotional roller coaster at times. But no matter what he was, he was not irresponsible. He would have called. Finally the elevator stopped and he pushed his way through the doors, walking down the short hallway to the lab. He quickly searched for a technician.
"Julie, I need your help with something." He found who he was looking for and set the pack on a counter. "See this, the blood right here?"
Julie put her glasses back on and took a close look at the bag. "Yep, I see it." She looked back up at Jim. "What do you need?"
"I need to know how fresh it is, and make sure it's human." he replied.
"That's it? Just how fresh and what species?" Julie sounded surprised.
Jim furrowed his brow in frustration. "I think it might be Blair's, he's missing." "Oh my God." Julie replied, picking up the bag and walking over to her equipment. "What happened?"
"I don't know." Jim replied, following her. "He didn't come home last night, and they towed his car in this morning, with the pack and my cell phone inside."
Julie stopped what she was doing and looked up. "You know Jim, Blair IS a grown up. Are you sure there's something to worry about here?"
"Can you just check the blood, please?"
"Okay, give me a couple of minutes." Julie replied, returning to her work.
Jim turned to pace the small room, anxiously waiting, and wondered what he expected to find. So what if the blood was human, and fresh? He had no idea Blair's blood type. He was pretty sure the University wouldn't know either, unless Blair had attended a blood drive. He could check with DMV, see if he was an organ donor, maybe they would have that. Jim rubbed tired eyes, reluctant to admit to himself just how little he knew his housemate.
It was always Blair doing the asking. Blair wanting to know facts about Jim and his life. Hell, Blair even knew his PIN number. And he knew next to nothing about Blair. Not that the kid had ever volunteered any information. Opinions yes, but...
"Well, I can tell you it's about 6 or 10 hours old." Julie announced. "And it's definitely human."
Jim nodded, "Anything else?"
"Well, sure. I can type it for you, what's Blair's blood type?"
Jim opened his mouth to answer and heard his named called out. He turned to find Jenkins standing at the entrance to the lab, a concerned look on his face.
"Mike, what is it?" Jim's own blood ran ice cold. Oh God, here it comes.
"Jim, Simon wants us both in his office. He said it was urgent." Mike Jenkins turned back toward the hallway as Jim joined him. "He wouldn't say what, but to get you and get up there now."
Jim nodded. "Stairs." he said, leading the way past the elevator. They both took the steps two at a time. "Any ideas? Is this about Blair?"
Jenkins shook his head, "Blair? No, I don't know. He just said hurry."
They pushed through the doors and walked quickly towards Simon's office. Jim's heart was pounding, but he knew it wasn't from the run up two flights. During the climb, Jim had briefly wondered what he would do, who would guide him if Blair was gone? Then realizing the selfishness of that thought made him more angry.
As they entered the office, both men took note of the look on Simon's face.
"What's wrong, Simon?" Jim asked, bracing himself.
He hung up the phone then waved towards the television set beside his desk. "A messenger brought this in, just after you went downstairs." His voice was shaking, Jim thought. "I just called the Chief, and the FBI."
Jim raised his eyebrows, beginning to feel annoyed with the delay. "What's going on?"
"They've got Darryl." He sat down hard in his chair. "And your wife, Mike."
"What?!" Jenkins exclaimed. "Who does? Who has them?"
Simon reached for the remote control and pressed 'play'. "That's not all." he said.
Jim watched as the tape began. It was out of focus at first and shaking, but then it focused, and Jim focused. "Oh my God." He could see Darryl, Sara Jenkins, and Blair. Each one obviously tied up, sitting on the floor behind the man who stepped in front of the camera.
"Gentlemen." the man began, "My brother Cliff, and my cousin Bob, that'd be him holdin' the camera there, we've got a proposition for you. Actually it'd be more of a trade, I guess."
They saw a second man enter the picture, Jim noticed a large knife in his belt. "It's simple, folks." he said. "We've got someone you want, you've got someone we want."
The man moved and the camera changed focus. Fear gripped him as he watched the second man, with the knife, approach Blair. He grabbed him by the shoulders and heaved him up, slamming him into the wall. As the camera man moved forward, Jim strained to get a closer look at the captives. Blair was bleeding from a cut across his jaw, and there was dried blood covering a g
ash above his right eye. A knot formed in Jim's stomach as the man who had lifted him up pulled the knife back out of his belt. God, no!
"You release our brother, Samuel Jackson...we release your friends."
Jim started, leaning forward as the knife was brought up against Blair's throat. "You don't release our brother..."
The knife flashed, and Jim held his breath, willing the blade not to move, not to slice across his friend's throat.
Suddenly the knife did move, and Jim heard Blair cry out as the blade cut through not his throat, but his shoulder. He clenched his jaw, feeling helpless with anger, as he watched Blair's attacker shove him back down to the floor.
"I think you get the picture." Frankie continued. "We trade these three, for our brother. 10pm tonight. We'll tell you where next time. Oh, and, if we even smell the Feds, you won't find their bodies for months."
Simon turned off the video.
Part 2
* * *
"My God, they've got Sara!" Mike exclaimed, still disbelieving what he had just seen. "But how, she should be at work! Oh God, they're going to kill her!"
Jim took Mike by the shoulders and gave him a quick shake, but before he could voice the reassurance that he didn't even feel, he was interrupted.
"Excuse me, gentlemen." The Police Chief had entered the room as the tape was ending. He turned to wave two other men inside and closed the door. "These two men are from the FBI, Special Agents Flynn and Michaels. They'll be taking over this case as of right now."
"Taking over?" Jim asked, looking from Simon to the Chief. "Helping out, maybe, but not taking over."
"Jim..." Simon began.
"No, Simon. Not this time." Jim replied, anger coloring his face.
"Detective Ellison, you are off this case as of right this minute." The Chief said, waving his hands to include all three men. "You are too personally involved, each of you. This is kidnaping, and extortion, and that's Federal territory. End of discussion."
Jim set his jaw, clenching against words he wanted to say, and considered each man for a moment. He knew they were correct, as far as proper police procedure went. He knew Simon, and Mike, wouldn't be able to stay objective in this case. He also knew, that if left to the Feds, he would never see Blair alive again.
"So, what do we have on these three men?" he asked, forcing stillness into his voice.
"Not much, yet." Agent Flynn replied, setting a briefcase on top of Simon's desk. "We know they are the family of convicted murder Samuel Jackson, and they are holding hostages in exchange for his release."
Jim was incredulous, "That's it?! That's all you have, and you expect me to just go sit at my desk and wait for this to be over?" He looked from the agent, to Simon, to Mike, and back again. "I picked that up from the first two minutes of that damn tape!" He was raising his voice now.
"Detective! You are off this case." The Chief commanded.
"Chief, Detective Ellison is highly trained in this type of rescue work."
"Captain, you and officer Jenkins may stay, we'll keep you informed as we go along." Michaels said, removing the tape from the machine. "Detective Ellison, you are welcome to tag along. But I will accept no interference. Any input you contribute will be accepted. But my best advice to you is to back off. Let us handle this, it's what we do."
"I'm not backing off." Jim replied
"Is Mr. Sandburg a relative? Have you known him for long? Detective, we will keep you informed, but you are off this case, and as far as I am concerned, not a vital link to it at this time, other than being a casual acquaintance of one of the captives." Michaels turned to Agent Flynn. "Take this to the lab for a detailed analysis." He turned back to Jim, "If that situation changes, we will call you."
Jim was seething, but he willed himself to calm down. Glancing around the room, he let his gaze pause briefly on Agent Michaels, then turned to Simon. "Okay, maybe he's right." He said, forcing a lightness in his voice that he didn't feel. "Keep me informed, will you Simon?"
"Jim?" Simon started to rise but Jim was already heading out the door, letting it swing shut behind him.
Once out of the office, Jim headed straight for his desk phone. He had to check his Rolodex for the number, and briefly worried that she wouldn't be there. Finding what he wanted, he dialed the phone, watching as Flynn left Simon's office and walked down the hall.
"Lab, Kathy speaking."
"Kathy, it's Jim. I need a favor."
* * *
Guiltily, Blair had to admit he was glad for the company of Sara Jenkins and Darryl. He didn't like the fact that they were in this mess, but having them here kept him from going crazy with fear himself. His shoulder had stopped bleeding quickly, another hint that it wasn't too serious. His head still hurt, but he wasn't sure if it was from the impact of the tire iron, or the situation he was in. It had taken Sara a while to calm down, and Darryl was pretty shaken, but after a few hours alone, they had pretty well accepted the fact that this ordeal was going to last some time.
"I have to go to the bathroom." Darryl said, sheepishly.
Blair raised his head and was opening his mouth to speak when they all heard the door opening again. He turned, fleetingly praying it was Jim coming to the rescue, until he saw Cliff and Frankie enter.
"Just so you don't think bad of us, we've decided to let you three use the facilities." Cliff said, walking over to Blair. "But I'm warning you, any funny business, and the girl gets it first."
Blair glanced over to Sara, then back to Cliff. He decided silence was the best answer, unsure if a response would bring on another attack, and afraid it wouldn't be him who was hurt next time. He just nodded.
"Good boy." Cliff reached down, pulling Blair up by the shirt. As his hand pushed into the cut on Blair's shoulder, he had to grit his teeth so as not to cry out again. Cliff lifted the smaller man easily to his feet, pushing him ahead, towards the door.
Blair could barely walk at first, his vision blurred again for a moment and he staggered a little, finally gaining control. Cliff had a hand on his back, and as he glanced behind, he saw Frankie had stayed, standing next to Sara. As he was pushed through the door and down to the right, Blair glanced around, trying to figure out where they were. It was definitely a ship. Gun metal grey, lots of rust. The Naval scrap yard? Or maybe an unused cargo ship? Cliff stopped him just in front of another door by grabbing his shirt.
"Right here." He said. Turning Blair around he forced him roughly face first against the wall. "Remember, any tricks, and the lady will regret it."
Blair was silent, trying to pull his injured shoulder away from the pressure of the wall, as Cliff reached down and unlocked the small padlock that held the chains around his wrists. Before Blair could free his hands, he was pushed into the small bathroom and the door slammed and secured from the outside. He shrugged his hands loose, rubbing the feeling back into them as he examined the red, sore marks left by the chain. He was glad to be alone for a moment, he thought he wanted to be sick. Okay Jim, any time now. There was a bang on the door,
"You got five minutes, use em' well." Cliff called from the hallway.
Blair had a response formed, but changed his mind. It was easier to keep silent, say nothing. If he didn't participate in this, he could convince himself he was just a bystander, outside of himself, and it was happening to some other idiot dumb enough to trust a stranger on a dark road alone at night in the city. Speaking out hadn't done him any good with psychotics before. There was a mirror in the room and he wiped it clean, taking a better look at his injuries. The cut above his eye was ugly, the eye partially swollen and the skin turning black. His face had a two inch slice along the jawline but it didn't seem to be serious. He pulled the shirt away and examined his left shoulder. It had bled more than he thought, but a cautious examination told him the blade hadn't gone deep.
Blair took a long breath, feeling a little shaky again. There had to be something he could do. What if Jim didn't come in time? If they brought the video rec
order in again, if he could whisper, tell Jim what he knew...But what did he know? That they were in a ship wasn't going to be much help in this area. But if he could find some identifying marks. He searched the bathroom for anything that would tell him the name or class of ship. Just as Cliff began to open the door, he spotted it.
"Time's up."
Blair moved back instinctively as Cliff opened the door. Briefly he had considered using the door to knock the man out, make a break. But the door swung inward, useless.
"Turn around." Cliff demanded, reaching out and grabbing him by the left shoulder. He quickly scooped the chain from the floor where Blair had let it fall.
Blair winced, "Hey come on, I'm not fighting here."
Cliff laughed, "That's right you ain't." He pushed Blair into the hallway and back against the wall, pulling both hands behind his back.
Blair allowed his hands to be chained again, not struggling, but trying to force a little more give in the restraints this time. Now that he could feel his hands again, the chains hurt. This time Cliff merely wrapped his wrists, neglecting to interlace Blair's fingers.
"Back to your little friends. It's nearly time for another film."
Blair allowed himself to be pushed back to the cargo room without struggling, passing Sara Jenkins along the way. Frankie was escorting her, presumably cousin Bob was with Darryl.
Cliff shoved Blair against the wall. "Come on kid, you're going now too." He picked up Darryl and shoved him back the way they had come. Blair watched as cousin Bob stepped over to stand beside him.
"You and your cousins...must be a close family." Blair heard himself say. He was sure he had decided not to say anything. Hadn't he?
Cousin Bob didn't speak, just stood there, staring down at Blair.
He shrugged, raising his eyebrows for a moment. "You guys always pick on women and kids?" What was he doing?
The Victims Page 2
