by Debbie Pack
Note: This story originally appeared in The Sentry Post, Vol. 2
DOWN!
By Debbie Pack
"Mayday! Mayday! This is Nancy, King, Ida, Three, Four, Six. We are experiencing engine trouble. Can anyone here us? Repeat....Mayday! Mayday! This is Nancy, King, Ida, Three, Four, Six. We are experiencing engine trouble. Can anyone here us?"
The engine of the little plane coughed again, this time with a finality and died. The pilot frantically began once more pushing buttons, twisting dials and begging the aircraft to restart. Finally, he shook his head in regret.
"Get your heads down gentlemen, just as I showed you," he called over his shoulder through the doorway separating the cockpit from the passenger section, "We're going down." He flipped a switch on the radio again, as his eyes began searching the mountains below for any available clearing he could find to try and land the plane. "This is Nancy, King, Ida, Three, Four Six. If anyone can hear us. We have engine trouble and are making an attempt to land. Our locations is approximately 100 miles east of Glidden Field...."
Blair Sandburg listened as Mike Ryan continued with the mayday call, giving the longitude and latitude for the benefit of any Search and Rescue team that, hopefully, was listening. Why, oh why had he thought this would be a good idea. It had to be some powerful deity that he had royally pissed off to come up with a revenge this wicked.
He glanced over at Jim to see how the detective was dealing with their current situation and was amazed to see his partner smile reassurance at him. Blair smiled back nervously and turned away, feeling his face redden. Ten minutes ago he had panicked, hyperventilating until Jim coaxed him back to coherency with calming words of encouragement. *It's okay, Chief. Calm down and breathe slow. That's it. Nice and easy.*
He forced himself to take another slow, deep breath, holding down the embarrassment he felt. Unfortunately, he shuddered when he exhaled. He was still scared out of his wits but at least he could take a breath now. He felt Jim reach over and give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Blair looked back up and saw Jim nod. The look on his face said a thousand time more than words could at this moment. *We're in it again, Chief. I know it looks bad and it may wind up being bad but no matter what happens, I'm here.* Blair closed his eyes in gratitude. Strangely, he felt better as he prepared himself for the crash landing.
* * * *
Jim couldn't help but admire his partner. Had it not been for Jim's friend they wouldn't have been on the small plane from Spokane.
The trial he'd been subpoenaed to testify at had ended earlier than expected. Jordan Sinclair had been a major drug dealer in the Pacific Northwest and Jim had apprehended him in Cascade. Sinclair's attorney had managed to get a change of venue for his client but it had only succeeded in stalling the inevitable. Jim's testimony had been completed yesterday and the jury had returned a verdict in record time. Sinclair had been convicted. Jim smiled inwardly. It had felt good to put the man away, no matter where the trial had taken place.
If only their luck had continued to hold out, he thought regretfully.
Last night he and Blair had tried to reschedule their flight back to Cascade, a full three days before they had anticipated. They had been put on standby for an 8:00 a.m. flight. Unfortunately, that had fallen through and the best the reservationist had been able to do was to schedule them for standby on the afternoon flight.
With several hours of nothing to do but wait, they had decided to hang around the airport area and grab an early lunch at a nearby restaurant that Blair had seen on their way to the hotel when they had first arrived. But, as they were leaving the air terminal, Jim had been hailed and turned to see an old Army buddy of his waving him down.
They had spent the next twenty minutes catching up on what they were doing in Spokane and what each had been up to since their last meeting. When Jim had mentioned their situation, the buddy, Mike Ryan, had offered them a ride to Cascade on the small plane he was shuttling back within the hour. It was an older plane and definitely not first class but it would be empty except for himself and he would welcome the company. Jim had hesitated knowing the small plane would only intensify Sandburg's fear of heights. He knew larger planes were a trial for the grad student at the best of times, but as long as his partner didn't look out the windows while in flight he usually managed to control his fear. Small planes on the other hand, were a different matter. He had been ready to refuse when Blair had spoken up and agreed to the offered flight home. Jim had turned to him in surprise, his eyes asking if Sandburg was sure he wanted to try. Blair had nodded with the confidence that he could handle the flight and Jim accepted the ride for them.
They had run into a storm half way back and had routed north to skirt the turbulence. Jim had maintained a close monitor on his partner's heart rate and breathing. Despite Blair's reassurances that he could handle the flight, the younger man had been pale and unnaturally silent since leaving the airport in Spokane.
Jim turned his attention back to the view outside his window. He had recognized Glacier Peak in the distance the first time the little plane's engine had coughed. In his mind's eye he formed a map of the area. Glacier Peak was in excess of 10,000 feet. Not as high as Rainier but definitely less accessible from the ground. He shook his head, this was not good. They were still east of the Cascade Range and the Snoqualime National Forest. He had prayed the engine trouble was only momentary and would not be repeated. When it coughed a second time and Mike had begun coaxing the engine at a frantic pace, he had flashed a look at Blair. Jim hadn't thought it possible but his partner's face was even more pale than before, and now his eyes were wide and staring. If they survived this and Blair didn't go catatonic on him, it would be a miracle and a half.
They began preparations for the crash landing as Mike had instructed. Jim watched his partner from the corner of his eye. Blair was moving a little slower than normal and his actions were more clumsy. He was almost paralyzed with fear but Jim was please to see he was at least making an effort. In a relatively short amount of time they were as ready as possible.
Jim checked to make sure Blair had remained in the appropriate crashed position, took a quick glance past the wall separating them from the cockpit, through the forward windows, then braced himself for the inevitable as he heard Mike shout over the protesting scream of stress to the small aircraft. "Hold on, Jim! This is it!"
Jim tensed as he felt the first branches of tall pines hit the underside of the plane and a jarring shook him all the way to the base of his spine. Amid the chaos he could vaguely hear an involuntary cry from beside him as Blair was shaken by the same force. He wanted to reach out a hand to the younger man and offer some small measure of comfort and encouragement but another jolt from the plane hitting more trees knocked his head against the side wall of the craft and he plunged into darkness.
* * * *
Simon looked at his watch once more and softly cursed with impatience. When Jim had called to ask him to pick he and Sandburg up at the smaller Glidden Airpark, he had said they would be in by 11:30 a.m. at the latest. Simon had agreed, glad to have his detective back early. To show his appreciation, he had planned to take Ellison and Sandburg to lunch before his 1:00 meeting with the Commissioner, but it was already 11:55 and still there was no sign of the small plane or Ellison and Sandburg. If they didn't land soon, they would have to wait until dinner. Simon swallowed against a rising knot of fear in his throat, determined to hold on to his impatience. A niggle of worry had worked its way into the back of his mind but he refused to give in to it. If he held on to his impatience, he wouldn't have to give in to fear.
The police captain moved to stand before large plate glass windows that looked out on the landing strip. The smaller airport was not nearly a busy as Cascade International but it seemed to be bust
ling with activity nonetheless. His eyes scanned the horizon in search of the plane. *Come on Jim. Where are you? Please be okay.*
"Excuse me. Sir?"
Simon turned at the hesitant voice. "Yes?" The knot in his throat grew and developed a twin in his stomach.
"Are you waiting for Mike Ryan's plane from Spokane?"
Simon nodded, "Yes. I am," he extended his hand with apprehension. "Captain Simon Banks."
"Captain?" the man inquired.
"Cascade Police, Major Crimes."
The man looked even more tense, "Oh...ah...Captain. Could you come with me?"
Simon's stomach finally twisted with force. What ever this man was wanting to tell him was not going to be good. He just knew it.
* * * *
The first thing that returned to Jim was a deep sense of exhaustion. Whatever he had been doing to cause it couldn't have been good for the human body. He was vaguely certain of that. It felt odd, not being able to remember where he was or what had caused him to feel so tired.
He cast about in his muddled brain for explanations. He was lying on his back and he could feel his gun pressing into his back where it still rested in the holster at his waistband. There was a heaviness across is legs, something warm. They didn't hurt any more than the rest of his body so he felt reasonably sure they weren't injured. An incredible pounding emanating from his temples and he was certain if he opened his eyes it would only compound the pain. Still, he couldn't remain in the dark forever. He braced himself as he forced open his eyes and blinked his surroundings into focus.
He was lying on the floor, looking out through a gaping hole in the side of....what?...a plane. That's where he was, in a plane. Along with the faint light, memory returned. The trial in Spokane, the quick end to the trial and the unexpected flight home with Mike Ryan. Sandburg's... Oh God! Blair! Jim's heart quickened with concern for his partner, as he forced himself to sit up. Blair had been siting beside him on the plane. His partner had panicked, on the verge of hyperventilation. Only Jim's past experience with Blair's anxiety attacks had enabled him to talk his partner back to a semblance of calm. He looked around the littered interior of the plane.
Where was he now? The seat where Blair had been sitting was empty. A half dozen possibilities crossed his mind, one being that Blair had already gotten himself out of the plane. He didn't think the slighter man wouldn't have been able to maneuver him out of the wreckage while Jim had been in an unconscious state. Possibly, he had left him and had crawled outside in search of help.
Jim stared at the gaping hole that had been sheared into the side of the small plane and felt his heart jump into overdrive. What if Blair had been thrown from the plane before it had come to a stop? His heart beat increased again as he frantically began pulling his legs from the debris with agonizing slowness.
A movement from the warm lump lying across his legs caused him to jump in surprise. A moan greeted his ears as he realized what the mysterious bundle was and began pulling rubbish from atop Blair's body.
"Hang on, Chief. Don't move," he ordered, pulling the last of the rubble off his partner and running sentinel sensitive fingers across Blair's back and neck. He sighed in relief as he found no indications of a break or fracture. He'd worry about legs, arms and the ever popular rib area as soon as he assured himself the young man was breathing properly.
"Jim?" Blair croaked, hoarsely.
"Yeah, Sandburg, I'm here," he said, continuing his examination.
"What happened Jim?"
Satisfied there was no spinal injury, Jim patted his shoulder and helped him to sit up. "I don't know exactly," he said, "Mike didn't say what was causing the problem.
Blair was beginning to move around more, disentangling himself from Jim's legs as concern for the safety of the pilot pushed the bigger man toward the front of the aircraft. Jim poked his head past the wall separating the passenger section from the cockpit. He swallowed hard, feeling nausea well up at the sight that greeted him.
Ryan had managed to bring the plane down to a lower altitude and leveled it out enough to keep them from slamming into the mountainside, but the pilot had been unable to prevent the tree branches from coming through the cockpit windows. A three-inch diameter branch had embedded itself into the pilot's chest. The man was long past caring that his last minute actions had saved his passengers.
Jim felt a movement beside him and reached out a hand, trying to keep Blair from seeing the body. Too late.
"Oh God!"
There was a flurry of activity as the grad student backed from of the cockpit and scrambled to the outside of the plane.
Jim found him twenty feet away huddled beside a tree, clasping his arms around his stomach in an effort to prevent himself from losing his breakfast.
"You okay?" he asked, leaning over to check the matting of blood he saw in the tangle of curls on the side of Blair's head.
Blair nodded slowly, "I'm sorry about that, man. I just wasn't prepared...you know?" He stopped speaking suddenly as sad eyes looked up at Jim. "He was your friend."
Jim nodded, "Yeah, he was and he didn't deserve to die like that," his voice trailed off, "Nobody deserves to die like that." He kneeled beside Blair, turning him slightly to get a better look at the source of the blood, "Turn around here and let me look at your head." Blair winced, despite surprisingly gentle fingers that probed the bloody area. "You took a pretty good hit here, Chief. Are you feeling dizzy at all?"
"Man, are you kidding? I've been dizzy since we took off from Spokane. This doesn't seem a whole lot different."
Jim smiled at the quip then released Blair's head and moved to face him as he held up a finger in front of his face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
Blair looked up and squinted with a frown. Jim saw the visible effort it required for him to focus his eyes. "One," he said finally.
It was Jim's turn to frown. It had taken Blair a moment to answer him. Not a good sign with a head injury but there wasn't much he could do about it here. Their first order of business would be to salvage what supplies they could from the plane and set up a camp until Search and Rescue could locate them. He would clean the wound and keep an eye on Blair. In all probability, his partner had a concussion and would bear watching until he could get proper medical treatment, but at least the injuries between the two of them had not been any worse. It was too bad about Mike's. Even though Jim had not seen him in several years it was still a loss and a shame.
"Jim?" Ellison was brought out of his dark thoughts by Blair's soft voice. "Hey man, were you zoning on me?" he asked in genuine concern.
Jim shook his head, "No. Just taking stock, Chief," he stood up, "Wait here. I'll be right back." He turned and made his way back to the plane before Blair could argue with him and returned within a few minutes with the first aid kit.
Blair sat as patiently as was possible for him while Jim cleaned the gash on his head. "You...ouch...you have any idea what happened to the plane?"
Jim shook his head while he continued with his task, "No. Mike had said something about the engine recently being repaired but...."
Blair pulled away from Jim, his face paling and his eyes demanding, "He did what!?"
A grimace crossed Jim's face. "Did I forget to mention that?" he asked innocently, then attempted to cover the statement with a shrug of his shoulders. "He said it had been repaired."
Blair's eyes widened as he felt his blood pressure escalate, "Evidently, not well enough," he said in disbelief, then sighed in exasperation, "Man, I can't believe you. You let us catch a ride with a guy you haven't seen in God knows how many years on a broken down piece of......"
"Will you calm down, Sandburg. It had been fixed." Jim's tone was edging toward impatience.
"You want to tell that to your friend Ryan?"
The moment he said the words, Blair regretted them. It wasn't Jim's fault the plane had crashed. Hell, it probably wasn't even the pilot's fault. He was just taking his nerves out on Jim and he could see
by the look on his partner's face that the words had hurt his friend.
"Hey," he said softy with regret, "Jim. I'm sorry, man. I shouldn't have said that. I was out of line."
Jim nodded his head in acceptance. He knew Blair was still feeling the aftereffects of the close brush with death they had experienced and he knew his partner didn't mean the hurtful words. "It's alright, Chief. We're both a little tense right now."
"Still, man, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Just let me finish here," he said turning Blair's head back to finish cleaning and dressing his wound.
With the exception of Mike's death, they weren't really in that bad of shape. Both of them had escaped with apparently minor injuries. Jim would keep a close watch on Blair for any sign of problems but otherwise, they had been incredibly fortunate, especially in light of their usual run of luck. Jim shook his head as he continued to work. It seemed to him that his partner had a natural ability for seeking out trouble. Jim often wondered if his friend got into as much trouble before he had partnered with him as he had since. He suspected he did, only a different breed of trouble. Blair just seem to be one of those individuals who attracted misfortune.
Jim put the finishing touch on the bandage then turned the younger man back to face him. "Still dizzy?"
"A little, but not much."
"Okay, you rest here," he said patting the anthropologist's shoulder, "I'll be back in a bit."
"Jim. I can help," Blair said, starting to rise.
The detective pushed him back to the ground, "Not yet, Chief." He looked hard into Blair's eyes with meaning, "I can do this alone. You wait here."
Blair's face paled as he realized what Jim was going to do. He nodded quietly, settling against the tree once more and concentrating his efforts on not listening as his friend removed the pilot's body from the plane.
* * * *
Jim finished the gruesome task and returned to the spot he had left Sandburg. He felt his heart jump as he rounded the back edge of the plane. The younger man's head was slumped forward on his chest. Jim hurried to his side, cursing himself for not paying closer attention to his partner's heartbeat. He listened carefully for a moment before placing a hand on the slender shoulder. The beat was strong. Jim breathed a little easier and gently shook him awake.