Down!

by Debbie Pack

  Simon returned the smile as the federal chief turned and left. Before long his thoughts returned to Ellison and Sandburg. He only hoped he was right and that the two had indeed decided to head west. It would be morning before they could continue the search and if he was wrong, it could mean his friend's lives.

  A short time later, Simon Banks rubbed his hands over a weary face and stared into the flames of a campfire as Thompson sat down beside him, offering a cup of steaming coffee.

  "Tired?" the federal agent asked.

  Simon nodded. He hadn't noticed how tired until he'd sat down a few minutes ago. "More than I realized."

  Thompson sipped his own coffee while he too stared into the flames. "So what is the Cascade Police Department doing with an anthropologist on it's Major Crimes staff?" he asked straight-faced.

  The question caught Simon by surprise and he choked on a mouthful of coffee. "You don't waste words, do you," he said after regaining his breath.

  Thompson smiled without looking at him. "I'm a curious man."

  Simon shook his head in wonder, "No kidding."

  After a few seconds of silence, Thompson pushed a little more. "Well?"

  "You're not going to give this up are you?"

  "Nope." He hid a slight grin.

  Simon sighed and prepared to justify Sandburg's presence in the Unit with the practiced half-truth once again. Simon was sure the young 'King of Obfuscation' would be proud of him. "He's a Ph.D. candidate doing his dissertation on the sub-culture relationships within the police department and specifically within the high stress unit of Major Crimes. He and Ellison have worked so well together, I assigned them as unofficial partners."

  "So he tags along to crime scenes for a dissertation?"

  Simon grinned at the thought. Thompson wasn't the first to question Sandburg's presence. "Not exactly. You see, the kid's a genius. He's all the time coming up with obscure facts out of nowhere and they always seem to benefit the investigations." He paused and let a smile cross his face. "At the same time he can also be the most exasperating person I've ever met. But, Ellison's arrest record has certainly been phenomenal since the kid began observing. We've learned to take the good with the bad."

  "So why hasn't he gone through the academy."

  Simon smiled into the night, "As Sandburg puts it...He won't cut his hair."

  Thompson finally turned to look at him, disbelief clearly visible in the flickering light provided by the flames, "You're kidding."

  Simon shook his head, "No. Well maybe partly. If it came right down to it, he'd probably go but he's serious about his dissertation and his job at the University. He's content with things the way they are now."

  "Maybe he just needs a little persuasion."

  Simon turned back to the federal agent. "No John. Don't even think about it. Ellison would be all over you before you could blink."

  "Why should he object?" Thompson frowned.

  "Because, Ellison sees Sandburg as his responsibility, like a little brother, and he protects him with a fierceness that would put a mother bear to shame. The kid and Jim have shared an apartment ever since Sandburg's place blew up about a year and half ago. Ellison's not too pleased at some of the situations Sandburg gets into but the kid keeps bouncing back in to police investigations anyway. So Ellison protects him as much as he can."

  Thompson smile into the firelight once again. "I can't wait to meet this pair.

  * * * *

  The shelter Jim located had proved to be only a small cave into the side of a rocky outcropping. Situated ten feet up the side of an incline with three-quarters of the entrance circled by rocks along the outer edge, it was made to order for them. The area in front of the opening was well protected from sight and would enable them to have a fire for warmth without worrying that it would be seen in the dark by their pursuers. The cave was small, barely four feet by six feet but at least it would help keep them warm for the night and dry if the rain started.

  Jim left Blair to wait at the base while he checked it out and by the time he'd returned to report all clear the younger man had been half asleep.

  "Sandburg," he said, bringing Blair back to wakefulness with a gentle shake. "Come on. Let's get up there and settle in. You can sleep in a minute."

  Blair nodded without being able to see Jim's face. "Sure, Jim, what ever you say."

  Jim smiled at the trust he heard in that voice. It was a heavy responsibility to know Blair was willing to place his life in Jim's hands but when he stopped to think about it, that's what the student had been doing since they had first met.

  They reached the top of the embankment without trouble and both dropped flat with exhaustion, backpack and roll still in place.

  "You sure this is unoccupied?" Blair's voice came through the darkness as his eyes hesitantly looked around the dim interior.

  Jim fumbled with the strap on his pack, releasing it from his shoulders as he answered, "What's wrong? Don't you want to share?" he asked with a half-grin. He heard Blair struggling out of his own backpack.

  "I don't mind sharing, man, but I do mind winding up as a midnight snack for Smokey the Bear. That..," he shivered slightly, "is not in my itinerary."

  "Well, I don't think you have to worry," he said, his sentinel vision seeing clearly in the dark, "This place is barely big enough for the two of us. You'd know if Smokey was in here," he finished.

  "So, can we curl up and sleep now?"

  Jim could hear the hope in Blair's voice and longed to give in to their mutual exhaustion, but survival was something that had been ingrained into him during his army days and he shook his head.

  "Not just yet." Blair sighed as Jim reached toward the back of the cave and scooped up a handful of the dry leaves and twigs that had gathered in the deeper area. "How good are you at starting a fire without a match?"

  In the darkness, Jim could see a smile cross his partner's face as the younger man reached into the pocket of his jeans. "Not nearly as good as I am with a lighter," he said proudly, holding up a disposable lighter.

  Jim grinned back, amazed again Sandburg's resourcefulness, "One of these days, you're going to have to tell me why someone who doesn't smoke carries a lighter."

  Blair began building a mound of the leaves and sticks, "I was a Boy Scout, man. Haven't you ever heard of always being prepared?"

  Jim couldn't help but laugh, "You! A Boy Scout?"

  Blair looked up with mock hurt on his face, "Jim. I'm crushed that you would doubt me."

  Jim continued to laugh, "I'm sorry, Sandburg, but the thought of you in a uniform, any uniform, is just not....," his voice trailed off as he searched for the proper word.

  "Believable?" Blair helped.

  Jim nodded, "Yeah. I'm sorry buddy, but that's it. Believable."

  Blair sighed, but smiled as the first of the flames began to catch and burn, "It would be kind of far-fetched, wouldn't it? Naomi would have just loved that."

  "'Loved' is not what I would have called it."

  A fond smile crossed Blair's face as the fire gained strength, "Probably not," he said then look up a Jim from the warming glow, "What now?"

  Jim made a move to leave the sheltered area, "You keep that going and I'll be right back." he said beginning to move down the embankment again.

  Blair's hand darted out across the small fire for Ellison's arm. "Wait, man. Where're you going?"

  "I'm going to collect some wood we can burn. We'll need it."

  Blair made an attempt to follow, "I'll help," he said.

  Jim stopped him with an hand on his shoulder, "No. You wait here."

  "But, Jim......."

  "Sandburg," he said in a patient voice, "It's dark, we're in a strange area and we don't need you falling and hitting your head again, besides," he paused with a smile and indicated his eyes. "I have a bit of an advantage over you in the dark." He waited until Sandburg released his grip. "You keep this going and I'll be back in a minute."

  Reluctantly Blair agreed and sat
back as Jim disappeared into the night.

  Before long they had a small but warm fire heating the interior of the cave and a stockpile of wood that should last them well through the night.

  The fire they had built inside the cave was moved to the outer edge of their shelter for the night and the small nylon tarp that Jim carried in his pack was placed on the floor to provide a measure of protection from the damp ground. It wasn't the Holiday Inn but it was the best they could do. Neither man had expected to be able to sleep, but the day's events along with a profound weariness won out and exhaustion claimed them in restless slumber.

  * * * *

  Sunlight filtered into the cave opening the next morning, straight into Jim Ellison's eyes. With one eye clamped shut, he craned his neck toward the offending sunbeam. Sore muscles protested as he began to shift his position on the ground. He stopped short as he became aware of a warmth nestled into his back and realized that sometime during the night Blair had managed to scrunch himself next to Jim, seeking the additional warmth that two bodies generated. Jim carefully edged himself up and away from the still sleeping young man, regretting the loss of the shared heat himself. He didn't remember Sandburg scooting closer but he did remember feeling warmer during the night than he had expected to feel.

  Jim reached back to the remainder of their firewood supply and began stoking the embers to life once more as his partner began to stir.

  "Morning, Sunshine," he called softly and watched in amusement as Blair groggily sat up and immediately wrapped his arms around himself.

  Grumpy blue eyes glared at him as the anthropologist began rubbing his hands up and down his arms for warmth.

  "Morning," he answered without enthusiasm. "I suppose coffee is out of the question?"

  Jim smiled in mock sadness, "Sorry, honey. I forgot to go shopping yesterday."

  Blair gave him a second glare, "You...are not funny at this time of the morning."

  Jim gave a short laugh as he stood. "Come on. Let's see what we can do about breakfast."

  Blair frowned as he came more awake, "What are you talking about?" he asked rising as Jim reached for the tarp and began to fold it.

  "I can hear a stream about a half a mile from here," he paused, stuffing the cover into his pack before putting it in place on his own back, "I don't know about you, but I could use a drink about now."

  Blair gave a little jump and grabbed for his backpack, looking completely awake now. "Oh, hey! Wait a minute," he brought out an empty plastic bottle. "I brought this, just in case," he said, handing it to Jim. "We'll be able to bring some with us."

  Jim stared at the empty water bottle with a smile. He remembered Blair buying it back in Spokane before they'd gotten on the plane. His partner was always thinking.

  * * * *

  True to his exceptional hearing, a half mile from where they had spent the night, they found a small stream. In the early morning light Jim could see several trout swimming just below the surface. He smiled wistfully as he watched them at the height of their feeding time. Man, what he wouldn't give for a pole and a few lures.

  He began to pat through his pockets in search of something, anything, that could be used as a makeshift hook.

  "What are you looking for Jim?"

  "Something to use as a hook," he explained to his partner. "I don't suppose you have anything on you? A safety pin or something similar?"

  Blair pulled his pack off his back and reached inside. He often carried odd bits of stuff in the trusty pack. After a thorough search, the best he could produce was a paper clip. He held it up to Jim apologetically. "Sorry, man. This is the best I can do."

  Jim took the clip and began examining it thoughtfully. An idea formed in his head. Maybe if he... Yeah.... He grinned as he reached for a rock the size of his fist and began working the end of the clip back and forth.

  Blair watched, impressed as he realized what Jim was attempting. After a moment, he sat down and removed one of the laces from his shoe. If Jim was up for wilderness survival, he was willing to give it a try. He left Jim working on the makeshift hook and taking the knife they had salvaged from the plane, went to a small grove of deciduous saplings and cut two straight branches, approximately one inch round and almost three feet long.

  By the time he returned, Jim had finished with the hook and had managed to secure it through the end of the shoe lace. He held it up, eyeing the creation skeptically. Not exactly standard issue but what the hell. It was worth a shot. Besides, if it didn't work he could always try the old standard of 'tickling the fish out of the water'. He looked toward the flowing water and hoped it didn't come to that. The water looked cold.

  A shadow crossed his path and he looked up as Blair handed him one of the poles and sat down with the other.

  "What are you doing?" Jim asked, nodding at the branch the young man held in his hands.

  Blair began cutting away part of the bark at one end, sharpening it to a point. "I thought I'd give spear fishing a try," he said, grinning up at Jim.

  "You expect to catch anything with that?" He tried to suppress a grin.

  Blair frowned at him, good-natured, "About as much as you do with a paper clip and a shoe lace."

  Jim looked thoughtful for a moment. "Good point," he conceded, turning back to his improvised fishing pole, "Now for some bait." he turned his eyes to Blair expectantly.

  "Don't look at me, man. I provided the hook and line. You're on your own for bait."

  Jim grinned at his partner once more before going to search the surrounding area for something suitable for bait. Neither of their ideas might work but the fact that they were doing something was a relief. It gave them a sense of control over their situation. They weren't as helpless as they had felt the day before.

  Jim was trained in the art of survival and Blair was a survivor by instinct. If it hadn't been for the possibility of killers being after them, they would have no problems getting themselves out of their current situation.

  Blair finished his whittling then stood and hefted the spear experimentally. "Well," he announced, more to himself. "It's not a Cree fishing spear but...." His voice trailed off as he approached the edge of the stream to try his luck.

  To each of their amazement, before long both men had been responsible for one fish each. It wasn't much and not nearly enough to satisfy their hunger but it was certainly better than nothing.

  After finishing their meager meal and a quick laugh about Blair needing his shoelace back, they were ready to continue their journey.

  "How far to the logging road?" Blair asked settling his backpack in place. When Jim didn't answer him he turned and found the Sentinel in a familiar stance. Blair knew he was listening to something in the distance. "What is it, Jim?" he asked, automatically placing a hand on his partner's arm to anchor him and prevent a zone-out.

  Jim held up his hand for a moment more of silence. Blair knew the routine all too well. Jim would tell him what he was hearing when he'd gotten all the information.

  After a few moments he turned his head back toward the west, concentrating in that direction for a moment.

  "Jim?"

  Ellison shook his head to bring himself out of his concentration. "They've found our trail," he said simply.

  Blair's face paled. He knew from the look on Jim's face that it wasn't rescue that had located their sign. "How far?"

  "Not close. I can hear them but the terrain they have to travel is going to slow them down. The problem is they know what direction we're taking.," he sighed before continuing, "We'll have to do some hard traveling to keep ahead of them." Jim turned to look at his partner, his eyes first landing on the bandage on Blair's head then searching his partner's face, "Are you up to it?"

  The younger man nodded with a grin, feeling comforted by Jim's concern. "I'm fine. I've been hit on the head before, remember?" He flashed another quick smile at his partner before starting along their chosen track.

  Jim reached for his pack to hide his concern. "I kno
w," he mumbled beneath his breath. "That's what worries me." Sandburg's numerous blows to the head were one of Jim's main concerns regarding the student's well-being.

  Blair stopped and turned back to Jim as a thought crossed his mind. "What was that other about?" he asked, nodding his head toward the direction that had caught Jim's attention the second time.

  Jim's frown intensified as watchful eyes scanned the western horizon, "We've got a storm coming in," he stated.

  Blair perked up, "How can you tell?" he asked, his voice rising as enthusiasm built.

  Jim's face softened at his partner's interest. Blair was ever the scientist. "I can feel the change in barometric pressure," he said, using his fingers to imitate touching the air.

  Blair's face broke into a wide grin, "Really? That is 'so' cool."

  Jim smiled at his partner's excitement but quickly sobered as they began walking, "Not yet, Chief, but it will be," he murmured. If it got very cold, they could be in for more trouble. Neither man was dressed for an extended stay out doors in cold weather. Jim knew he could adjust to it with the help of Sandburg and his imaginary dials. Too cold? Turn down the sensitivity dial, but Blair didn't have that advantage and he was more susceptible to the cold than Jim. "Come on. Let's go." Jim turned Blair around and ushered him ahead of him. They'd have to make sure they didn't waste time now that they knew they had people on their trail.

  * * * *

  Hours later they were still going. Jim knew they were still traveling uphill but the rate of incline had slacked off during the past half hour. He paused to catch his breath, hearing Blair stop as well and drop to the ground against the same tree Jim was using for support.

  "You okay, Chief?" the detective asked as his eyes scanned the area ahead of them.

  Blair was breathing heavy. "Oh yeah," he panted, "I'll make it."

  Jim smiled as he turned his hearing behind them. He had been attempting to keep track of the people behind them since he and Blair had started out that morning. At times he'd catch the faint echo of voices but could tell they were still too far away for even his sensitive ears to hear clearly. That was good. It meant he and Blair were doing a good job of keeping ahead of their pursuers. If they could maintain the lead they had on them, there was a very good chance they could reach the authorities before the thieves could catch up with them.