The Victims

by Kristine Williams

  Bob said nothing. God, Blair thought, shut up stupid! Inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief for having had nothing more to say. Bob was just standing there, silent. A few minutes later, Frankie returned with Sara, pushing her against the wall next to Blair. He glanced at her, trying to smile. She still looked terrified, but she had every right to be. Soon after Cliff came back with Darryl.

  "Bob, go get the camera." Cliff ordered.

  Blair watched as cousin Bob left, returning almost immediately with the camera and holding it up, facing Cliff. They were standing a few yards away. Blair waited until Cliff began to speak, then, quietly...

  "Jim...it's a cargo ship...the Aggripa..." Blair spoke as softly as he could. He didn't think even Darryl or Sara heard him, but he was sure Jim would. If the tape was delivered...and Jim saw it...and got there before...

  He hadn't been paying attention to what Cliff was saying, and hadn't noticed Frankie moving over to grab Sara by the arm. What he did see was the gun.

  "Ten o'clock, tonight, or she is the first to go." He was saying.

  Sara screamed. Blair lunged at Frankie,

  "Leave her alone!"

  Cliff was immediately behind Blair, grabbing him around the neck. "You wanna go first, pretty boy?"

  Blair couldn't breathe. Cliff's arm was around his throat. He struggled, out of some instinctual need to inhale, and the arm tightened. Black spots began to appear across his vision. He stopped struggling, hoping the arm would loosen. Some part of him didn't want to pass out, not when Jim would see this.

  Just as blackness began to envelop him, Bob shut off the tape and Cliff tossed Blair down. He fell to the floor, breathing hard, and had to close his eyes. He heard Sara being pushed to the floor and heard her light crying. He thought Darryl was saying something, but he was still breathing too hard, and his ears were ringing. Jim, please....I won't ask for the truck again, I swear.

  * * *

  Jim rewound the tape for the hundredth time, grateful his friend in the FBI lab had still been speaking to him after their last, unfortunate date. He knew, if Kathy wasn't still angry with him, that she wouldn't mind making a copy for him, unofficially of course. He also knew this time he'd have to make good on his promise to call her. And he was certain the FBI's crime lab wouldn't find anything he couldn't find, and possibly find sooner. Every time the tape played, he found himself focusing on Blair, reassuring himself his friend was ok. But this tape was now five hours old. What was happening now? Was Blair still alive, right now?

  Every time he closed tired eyes, pictures flashed vividly across his mind. Pictures of every DB he had ever discovered. This time he saw Blair in each one. Kidnappings almost never ended successfully. But they had never been so personal. Darryl, Sara Jenkins...They had been taken because of who they were related to. Blair had been taken because of him. Jim inhaled deeply, willing the visions to drain with the breath he exhaled. This isn't helping anyone.

  He hit play, listening again to as many sounds as he could pick out, trying to see something he didn't see before. Nothing. Nothing was working. Why couldn't he hear more? See more? Why wasn't he able to find them? The only sounds he had managed to come up with were metallic echoes, but from what? From where? He was startled out of his thoughts by a knock on the door to the lab room he had commandeered.

  "Jim? I wondered where you went." Simon entered the room, followed by a very pale Mike Jenkins.

  "Simon, I can't get it." Jim was frustrated with his own inability. "I've tried and tried, and I can't get any more from it." He waved to the tape still playing back on the machine. "I think it's a ship of some sort, but which one? Where?"

  "Jim, they sent another." Simon held up the tape that Jim hadn't seen him carrying. "I had our lab copy it before the FBI saw." He tossed the tape to Jim. "They sent it by courier to my house." Mike said. "My in-laws are visiting. I haven't even told them yet."

  "You should go home, Mike." Jim took the first tape from the machine. "This isn't doing you any good."

  "What about you?" Simon asked. "Jim, this is no easier on you than us."

  Jim turned to Simon, remote control in his hand. "What do you mean, Simon?" he said, irritation coloring his controlled voice. "Blair's not a relative, remember?" He shot the agent's words back at his friend, realizing as he did that Simon really wasn't the enemy. But someone had to be.

  He turned back to the television and hit 'play', watching with Sentinel vision for new clues. Focusing on Blair in the background he saw the younger man's lips moving. Jim quickly changed focus, as Blair had taught him, and heard what he had been hoping for.

  "Simon, I know where they are." he announced. Just then he heard Mike swear behind him and he changed focus on the film, just in time to see someone choking Blair. His stomach tightened as he watched, intently eyeing his friend, trying to determine his health. He saw Blair's knees begin to buckle just as the tape ended, leaving behind white snow where his partner had been

  Mike turned, his face red with anger. "Where are they?"

  "Simon, I'm going after them." Jim said. "You can tell the Feds, they can be backup if they want, but I'm going in there."

  "Jim, where? Where are they?" Simon asked, putting a restraining hand on Jim's arm.

  "A cargo ship, the Aggripa." he replied. "Mike, call the Port Authority, find out where that ship is docked. Simon, you can go to the Feds, I'm going after them."

  Jim pushed his way past Simon and opened the door, not giving Mike a chance to wonder how he knew the name of the ship.

  "I'm coming with you." Simon was resolute. "They have Darryl." He followed Jim down the hall to the stairway. Mike had found a phone and was dialing, nodding to them to proceed.

  Jim and Simon gathered enough guns and armor for a small war, then met Mike at the truck behind the Precinct.

  "It's docked at Pier 61." Mike said as he caught up, pulling on the bullet proof vest Jim handed him. "Registered to Peru, but seized when the company went bankrupt for back docking fees." He checked his gun, and grabbed a few more. "The Feds are looking in the Naval scrap yards. They're way off base, those yards are patrolled."

  "Jim, are we sure we should do this?" Simon seemed suddenly unsure. "The Feds..."

  "Simon, you do what you have to do." Jim replied, climbing into the truck. "I have to do this. Blair is in there because of me, I can't sit back and hope the Feds can get him out." He held the passenger seat forward so Mike could climb into the back. "I'm the reason he's in there, I'm going." He paused, waiting for Simon to get in. "What'll it be, Simon? That last tape is at least an hour old...what's happening to Darryl right now? I can't wait for the Feds."

  Simon gritted his teeth and climbed into the truck. "I hope you know what we're doing."

  They drove as quickly as they could to the shipyards, in silence, each man dealing with his own demons. They pulled onto the pier and Jim parked the truck at the opposite end of the dock, hiding it as best as he could behind a pile of shipping crates. Mike had taken out a jar of shoe polish and smeared his face, handing the jar to Jim who then did the same.

  The sky was beginning to darken with the false dusk of an overcast Fall afternoon. They hurried carefully to the freighter. Jim stopped, just before the gangway, and knelt behind a huge metal cleat. Simon and Mike ducked behind him.

  "Anything?" Simon asked, whispering.

  Jim concentrated, scanning the deck for any sign of a lookout. Seeing no one, he listened for movement, but he couldn't penetrate the ship, couldn't focus clearly enough. The sounds of metal, waves, and seagulls began to overwhelm him.

  "It's clear." he said. "They must be inside."

  "If they're still there." Mike had been scanning the deck with binoculars and hadn't noticed Jim not using a pair. "What if they moved? What if they..." Jim turned, "We don't have any other option. We have to go in." He looked at Simon. "Are you ready?"

  Simon nodded. He turned back to Mike. "Okay?"

  "Okay."

  Jim lead the way up the g
angway to the ship, motioning each man to take one of three hatchways leading into the main body of the freighter.

  * * *

  "Darryl, how you holding up?" Blair found it easier to be concerned with Sara and Darryl's well being than worry about his own, identical situation.

  "I'm okay." Darryl replied. "My dad will get us out of here."

  Blair nodded.

  "Do you think they'll really make a trade?" Sara asked, shifting around for a more comfortable position on the hard floor they had all been sitting on for so many hours. "What will happen to us if they don't?"

  We'll die horrible deaths. "I don't know." And it will all be on tape. "We just have to believe that Jim, Simon, and your husband--that they'll get us out of here before that happens."

  She fell silent again and Blair didn't offer more. He couldn't. He felt helpless. Completely helpless. What would Jim do if he was here? What was he doing right now to secure their release? Had he heard Blair telling him the name of the ship, or was he too emotional to focus? Was he even being shown the tapes? Was he outside right now, taking care of their captors?

  Blair closed his eyes tightly for a moment, trying to banish the questions he had no answer for. He thought about the University. At least he wasn't being missed, having finished grading and handing out finals for that quarter. He briefly wondered what had become of his car, and remembered leaving the cell phone on the front seat. Had Jim known the battery was dead?

  "How long have we been here?" Darryl asked. "I'm hungry."

  Blair shook his head, "I don't know Darryl."

  Suddenly the door opened and Blair held his breath as Cliff entered, followed by Frankie. Bob wasn't with them this time, nor was the video camera. Blair was glad of that. It seemed to have been several hours since the last taping, and Blair was pretty sure if one of them was to be killed, it would be filmed.

  "One more comfort stop." Cliff said. He reached down, picking Darryl up. "Then it's show time again. One of you is going to put on a star performance. Frankie, you take this one." He pushed Darryl towards his brother, then reached down for Blair.

  Blair tried to stand without being hauled up, and couldn't help the revulsion he felt when Cliff's hands locked around his shirt. He knew what they meant, knew that one of them was going to be killed. But which one? Some choices...a woman, a kid...or me.

  Cliff smiled, shoving Blair ahead of him. "You don't like me much, do you?"

  Blair stepped through the hatchway, turning left as Cliff pushed him. "What's there to like?" he asked.

  Cliff just laughed, stopping long enough to pull the door closed, locking Sara in alone. They continued down the hallway to the same room Blair had used earlier. He realized then that Darryl must have been taken to another room. Cliff once again pushed him into the wall, unlocking the restraints and shoving Blair in before he could free his hands.

  Blair shook the chains off as the door was pulled shut, letting them fall to the floor again. He used the facilities, then stood at the sink for a long time, letting the cold water cool burning wrists. He was so tired! Physically and mentally. It seemed like weeks since his car had broken down. Since he had been standing in Jim's loft, making his bid for the truck. Everything was so out of control and he was helpless to do anything about what he now felt sure was going to happen. He splashed water on his face, willing it to wake him from this nightmare. Jim, if you are ever going to do something, now would be a good time. His hands were shaking. This feeling of helplessness was nearly overwhelming. His life, Darryl's, and Sara's, were in the hands of desperate men. Men who were obviously willing to kill strangers to get what they wanted. Blair just wasn't used to this. He had seen, and even experienced, some pretty wild stuff since meeting Jim. But how did someone get used to this?

  He heard the banging against metal that told him Cliff was coming in, and stood back, waiting for the door to swing in. There were footsteps, more clanging sounds, muffled voices. Blair froze, listening. Suddenly the door burst open and a gun was shoved in his face.

  "Sandburg!"

  "Captain?!" Blair was incredulous, then concerned. "Where's Jim?"

  "He's here." Simon had lowered his gun and motioned for Blair to come out of the bathroom. "Mike took care of one down the other hall. He had Darryl."

  "Is he okay?" Blair asked, glancing around for any sign of Jim. He saw Cliff lying on the floor, unconscious, with hands cuffed behind his back.

  "Yeah. Come on, let's get you out of here. Mike's gone to get Sara."

  Simon was turning in front of Blair, to lead the way out to the deck, and didn't see Frankie stepping around the corner facing them.

  Blair didn't call out, why he didn't know, but pushed Simon sideways back into the tiny room.

  Part 3

  * * *

  Jim stopped and tried to make out where the voices were coming from. He could hear them, but the echoing of the metal ship was confusing his sense of direction, like a carnival fun house. The sounds seemed to be coming from everywhere. He could feel his heart pounding, the blood rushing through his ears mixed with the voices. Then he heard, clearly, Blair's voice. Something inside settled down, as if a switch he hadn't been able to reach was turned on. His heart rate slowed, his senses cleared...focused into one. Quickly now he ran through the maze of corridors, following the voices. As he rounded a corner he came up behind the younger of the three men he had seen on the tapes, his gun raised.

  Jim reached for the gun. His eyes had been tightly focused on the trigger, watching it squeeze back just as his hands closed around Frankie's arms from behind. He knew how fast a bullet traveled, but with his Sentinel focus, it seemed to happen so slowly. He watched, almost mesmerized, as the bullet left the gun. With nauseating clarity he saw it cross the corridor, enter Blair's left side, travel through skin, muscle, viscera, then burst through, slamming into the wall.

  Jim brought his knee up and Frankie's arms down, hearing as well as feeling both arms break with the impact. He tossed the now screaming man down, wrenched the gun away and threw it down the hall. Without even giving him a second look Jim turned and ran down the corridor.

  "Sandburg!" Blair was lying, motionless, on the cold metal floor. "Blair, answer me dammit." There was blood covering his shirt, blood on the floor.

  "Jim!" Simon put a hand on his back, trying to get past him and out of the bathroom he had been pushed into. "Jim, where's Mike?"

  "I'm here." Mike called out from the opposite end of the corridor.

  "Oh my God." Sara, who had been trying to hide behind her husband looked down at Blair. "Is he...?"

  "No! Simon, get an ambulance down here, now!" Jim was frustrated with them for still standing there. "Sandburg, come on answer me. Blair." He had taken off his flack jacket and now placed it under Blair's head as a crude pillow. Blair's eyes were open, trying to focus on his own. He said nothing and Jim realized he was losing consciousness. "Come on Chief, I need you, don't check out on me now." He pulled up the bloody shirt and took his own off, using it as a bandage as he applied pressure to both entrance and exit wounds. Mike had left, taking Sara to join Darryl and get to a clear area for the cell phone.

  "Jim?" Simon was kneeling now behind Jim in the narrow walkway.

  "He's bleeding, Simon." Was all Jim could say. Blair was unconscious, his already bruised face pale. God, where was that ambulance? "I can't stop the bleeding."

  Simon stood, "Help me get him up, we'll take the truck."

  Jim quickly tied his shirt around his friend's waist then lifted him as gently as he could, with Simon taking his legs. The corridor filled suddenly with armed FBI agents. Fashionably late again, Jim thought. He ignored their demands for an explanation, pushing through while Simon quickly directed them to the incapacitated men in handcuffs. Once on deck Jim saw the paramedics coming up the gangway and they set Blair down. He noticed then Darryl and Sara Jenkins standing on the pier, unharmed.

  He knelt on the deck, cradling Blair's head as the Paramedics approached. J
im reluctantly moved aside as a medic placed a hand on his shoulder.

  "Jim...Jim!"

  He didn't hear Simon beside him at first. He was beginning to feel dizzy, numb. The sirens, strobing lights, and shouts from everywhere began to hypnotize him like they had never done before. Must be the adrenaline, he thought. Simon's voice called to him from a fog, and he had to willingly force his mind back, to respond with a questioning look.

  "Jim, give me the keys to the truck." Simon was saying, "You can ride in the ambulance to the hospital. We'll meet you there."

  Jim nodded, not really understanding.

  "Jim?"

  I need the truck tonight. How long ago was that?

  He shook himself, swallowing. "Right." he said, digging the keys from his pocket.

  "Jim, he'll be okay." Simon had his hand on Jim's arm, but he couldn't feel it.

  Take the cell phone. "Yeah, he'll be all right." Jim answered.

  They were putting Blair into the ambulance now so he climbed in, sitting opposite the medic, and placed his hand on Blair's arm. He hadn't opened his eyes again. There was a compression bandage wrapped around his abdomen. His shoulder, where Jim had watched the blade cut, was bandaged. There was tape pulling the broken skin closed over his eye. The cut along the jawline wasn't deep at all.

  Blair stirred, moaning slightly, but didn't open his eyes.

  "Hang in there Chief." Jim pushed the hair away that had fallen across his eye. "You're going to be okay." He let his hand rest on Blair's forehead, knowing how physical contact could reassure a semiconscious mind. It did much to reassure his own, as well. "Your in the big leagues now, kid." Why weren't they there yet? The hospital was only a few blocks from the waterfront. Jim kept his hand on Blair's forehead. "It's all right Blair, you're going to be fine." Dammit, how long was this going to take? He listened to the younger mans heartbeat, willing it to beat more strongly. How much blood had he lost? And why did he feel like someone had pulled a plug on his own energy?