by Cindy Combs
Glancing over, Jim concentrated on Sam for a moment. His was a much lighter sleep, probably affected by his painful arm and worry for his father and brother. Sam had relayed the whole story of the past day to Jim after Blair had fallen asleep. Jim stared into the fire, thinking of all the emotional turmoil he had hoped to protect his partner from. However, if it was bringing him closer to Sam, perhaps it was worth it. Jim smiled, thinking of how guilty the kid felt about Blair not getting his restful vacation. It was almost like Sam expected Jim to actually bawl him out for not protecting Blair better. Instead, seeing Sam's scraped and pain-drawn face coupled with Blair's cough made him want to get his hands on Murdoc. Perhaps after getting the two younger men to safety, Jim could do just that.
Friday late evening, Sheriff's Station in Ouray, CO
Naomi stared out the window of the sheriff's lodge, not really seeing the snow blowing outside. It took several minutes before she realized another presence had joined her. She turned her head slightly to discover it was Mr. Thornton.
"How are you doing?" Pete asked in a soft voice.
"I don't know," Naomi stated frankly. "My son is sick and being hunted by a madman in the middle of a snowstorm. I have just found out that that same son has been lying to me. And I've been forcibly told he is like his father, who I didn't want him to be like. It is definitely not a good night."
"I can understand that," Pete sympathized. They stood a few moments in silence. "You know, from what I've heard, your son is a pretty decent young man. That is quite an accomplishment. I wished I had done so well with mine."
Naomi shrugged. "I tried. I just don't understand this attraction he has with the police and Detective Ellison. I certainly didn't raise him to be friendly with pigs."
Pete paused a moment. "Well, maybe it is like a story of some friends of mine. A few years back a young cabby, who was not much older than Blair is now, had dropped off a woman in a bad part of town. He noticed a man following her, holding a gun. Now, most people would have taken off and maybe called the police. This young man decided to follow the pair. He tackled the man so the woman could get away."
"That does sound like something Blair would do," Naomi admitted. Her son hated to see a woman get hurt.
Pete kept the smile off his face. Seemed that Jack did have Blair pegged. "Unfortunately, it turned out that the man he tackled was a government agent and the woman was an international assassin. The agent was so mad he forced the kid back into the cab and told him to follow the woman so he wouldn't lose her. He didn't realize they were driving into a trap until two men with bazookas appeared. The poor kid suddenly discovered that the 'woman' he had helped was really a man who had no problem killing his good Samaritan. The agent was sure they were both dead, when suddenly the kid starts pulling out his shoelaces and asked the agent to keep the assassin talking. While the assassin bragged about how he was going to kill them, the kid managed to set up the cab to rush the men using only a wrench, a paper clip, and his shoelaces."
Naomi looked at him in shock. "You're kidding? This really happened?"
This time Pete did smile. "The agent couldn't believe it either, until it worked. They managed to escape from the cab and capture the helpers, if not the assassin. The agent was so impressed he later asked the kid to join his agency. The two have become the best of friends. They would go through hell for the other, and have a few times. I suspect that there is a similar story between Ellison and your son. Blair might even tell you if you ask."
As Pete turned to go, Naomi quietly asked, "Whatever happened to your friends?"
"Oh, the former agent is currently worried sick because the kid is after that same damn assassin, who is now after the kid's sons. And the agent has no way to help him."
Stricken, Naomi watched Pete find his way back to the main room, tapping his cane. Apparently, that Dalton was right. She really didn't know MacGyver.
Saturday dawn, Uncompahgre National Forest, CO
As Ellison finished his radio call, he heard Blair step out of the shelter. He studied the younger man from the corner of his eye as he approached. Blair still looked too pale and exhausted, but he did look better than the night before. Jim quickly closed up the radio. "How's Sam doing?"
"He's moving pretty stiffly, and I think his arm is hurting him, but he's getting back up to speed." Blair glanced up into the deep blue sky, gathering his thoughts. He had fallen asleep last night before having a chance to talk to Jim, and Blair needed to talk desperately.
"Did you take the antibiotic?"
"Yes, Mother," Blair smiled. Then the smile disappeared. "You knew, didn't you? About Mac and I? You tried to tell me with that comment about Simon and Daryl's scents being similar."
Jim sighed. He knew this topic would be coming up. "Yes, your scent is similar to Mac's and Sam's."
Blair swallowed hard. More evidence, from a source he believed in. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't Mac?"
"I didn't know if it was my place," Jim admitted, lying a comforting hand on Blair's shoulder. "Mac wasn't sure, so he wanted to talk with your mother first. You know how difficult it is to catch Naomi. In any case, Mac was planning to talk with you when you and Sam got back from this trip."
"He was really going to tell me?" Vulnerable blue eyes stared up at Jim.
Or else I'd have pounded him into the ground. "Yes, he was. But he was worried, too. He didn't want to disrupt your life, nor did he want to make you a target for Murdoc like he suspected Sam might be."
"Well, that sure didn't work," Blair said with a sigh. "We both ended up on his list anyways. That Murdoc is downright scary."
"So Mac has told me," Jim replied, gently squeezing his friend's shoulder.
"We can't let Mac face him by himself," Blair stated softly. He was so close to having a father at last. It scared him to think of Murdoc killing MacGyver.
Jim could hear the deep worry and fear in Blair's voice. "I don't plan to. Once the rescue helicopter picks up you and Sam, I'm going after them."
"You can't go by yourself." Blair turned worriedly to his friend. "I'm going with you."
"No," Jim ordered. Seeing the stubborn look on his guide's face, Jim gently gripped both shoulders. The thinness of those shoulders only firmed up his resolve. "You need to stay with Sam. He's going to need his arm taken care of and he's even more scared for Mac than you are. Mac's the only family he has besides you."
Blair blinked, startled. "What do you mean? What about Mac's family?"
Jim slowly shook his head. "Mac doesn't have any other family either. He's an only child, raised by his mother and grandfather after his father died. They have both passed away. All he has is Sam, and now you."
*He seems even more protective of his little family* The memory of Murdoc's voice floated pass him. No wonder, if Sam was all Mac had. Apparently he wouldn't be meeting a boatload of new relatives from his father's side. Blair glanced back at the rocks where his brother was. It also explained why Sam was so willing to accept a new brother. "Okay, I'll stay with Sam."
Jim suppressed a smile. He had hoped using Sam would work. "Besides, I suspect Naomi would kill me if you didn't head down right away."
"Mom? Wait a minute, she KNOWS about this?"
Jim draped an arm over his shoulder and led him back to the rocks. "Not only knows, but is waiting with Simon and Joel back down the mountain."
"Oh, man...."
The snowstorm from last night has made way for one of Colorado's crystal clear mornings. The kind of morning Harry used to love. I just hope its promise holds for both my sons and me.
Thinking of Harry, I slip my hand into my pocket and feel the pine nuts roll through my fingers. I can still see the glee shining in my grandpa's eyes as he explained to me how they explode in a fire. Whether I'll have a chance to use Harry's trick is unknown, but I want to be prepared. Who knows what Murdoc has in mind. Hopefully, it no longer involves Sam and Blair.
As Harry used to say, 'Waiting won't make it any easier, Bud
'. Guess it's time to find Murdoc.
"AAAKKK!" ~pfoof~
Jim and Sam turned around to find Blair planted face-first in the new snow. Both immediately snow-shoed back.
"Blair, are you all right?" Sam exclaimed, helping his coughing brother out of the snow. Jim quickly monitored Blair's vitals, noting the struggling lungs and pure exhaustion on his guide's face.
"Yeah, ~cough~ just got my snowshoe caught on a branch ~cough, cough~"
"Why don't we take a short break," Jim suggested, helping to brushing off the snow. Both young men had caught on quickly to using the snowshoes Jim had brought. However, Blair was becoming more clumsy as he wore down. Nor did Jim miss that Sam was beginning to favor his bruised knee.
Blair batted back the three extra hands. "I'm fine, guys ~cough~. Honestly, now I've got two mother hens."
Sam backed off, but Jim gripped his shoulder and stared him in the eyes. "You are not fine, Sandburg. You are still sick. If you are going to make it to the pickup site, we need to take it easy and you have to tell us when you're tired so we can give you a break."
Staring up into the stern eyes of his friend, Blair quietly admitted, "If I did that, we'd never get there, man."
Jim's face softened. He squeezed his friend's shoulder and brushed off a bit of snow on Blair's cap. "I know. You just need to hang in there for another mile, okay?"
"Okay." Blair looked back to Sam. "~cough~ Sorry for being such a grouch."
"That's okay, Indy," Sam replied with a smile. "As Harry used to say, 'Family can be trouble, but they're usually worth it'."
"Who's Harry?" both Jim and Blair asked together.
"My, our, great-grandfather, the one who owned the cabin. Hasn't Dad ever mentioned him?"
"No," Blair shook his head sadly.
Sam patted him on the shoulder. "He will. He usually spouts out something Harry said whenever he wants to make a point or as a prelude to a lecture."
"Like you just did?" A small smile twitched at the corner of Blair's mouth.
"Yep." Sam shared his smile.
Jim placed a hand on each of the young men's shoulders. "You two ready to continue?"
A few yards later, Jim spied someone ahead. He halted, raising a hand to stop Blair and Sam. Soon a long-haired man in forest ranger gear approached. "Hello! Are you Ellison?"
"That's right," Jim called back.
"Good. I'm Ranger Daily. They sent me to find you. Apparently, they are having some problems with the helicopter this morning and will be late to pick you up."
"What's wrong with the helicopter?" Jim asked suspiciously.
"Possible sabotage. They think that fellow causing you guys trouble may be behind it. He may be monitoring the radio, which is why they haven't called."
"Damn." Jim didn't like the idea of Blair and Sam out in the cold any longer than necessary.
"My cabin isn't too far from here. Why don't you come and warm up while you wait?"
"Sounds good," Sam admitted. His own tolerance to the cold seemed to be dropping. He hated to think how cold Blair must be feeling.
"We will. Thank you," Jim replied.
Only Blair felt a nudge of discomfort. Something was bothering him about the ranger, but he couldn't place it. Deciding his exhausted imagination was simply blowing things out of proportion, he quietly followed in the wake of the others.
The cabin was only one room. The ranger held the door open for the three men to walk inside. Blair had barely crossed the threshold when the door slammed shut behind him. All three jumped and turned around, only to jump again as heavy boards slammed down to cover the windows.
"Guess I only needed to find the proper bait for my Junior MacGyver trap!" a voice gleefully exclaimed.
"Murdoc!" Blair declared with disgust. He had known there was something wrong. Now he couldn't see anything in the dark room.
"What do you want?" Ellison shouted, furious that he had allowed the hitman to catch them. He opened his senses, instinctively reaching a hand out to Blair's shoulder. Blair's hand groped upward and latched onto Jim's upper arm, calming and anchoring him. A faint hissing sound reached the sentinel's ears.
"Do not be concerned, Detective. The boys are bait for bigger game, while you're just an added bonus. However, I'd rather you troublesome kids were not wide-eyed and bushy-tailed enough to find your way out. Nighty Nite!"
"What?" Sam asked in confusion.
Then Jim smelled it. "He's filling the cabin with ether!" Instantly, he began digging around in his pack's pocket.
"Jim?" Blair asked, woozy.
Jim felt Blair's hand loosen from his arm as the slim figure slipped to the floor. Nearby, the soft thud of Sam's body collapsing rang in his ears. Jim held his breath, fighting the dizziness. "This has got to work," Jim thought as his own head began to spin. His hand finally found what he was looking for. "This has got to work."
Saturday morning, Sheriff's station, CO
Banks stared straight ahead as the helicopter rose from its pad. Dalton, unusually serious, sat next to him.
"Did Jim say how the kids were doing?" Taggart asked from across the compartment.
"Blair's still sick, and Sam has a broken arm and twisted knee," Simon stated.
"Considering the two of them have been chased all over the mountain, we are lucky it's not worse."
"Just getting out alive is good with Murdoc," Jack replied grimly. "In fact, I'm not going to relax until those kids are safely back to town, preferably with armed guards."
"You've dealt with him before?" Joel asked.
Jack shuddered. "Oh yeah, several times, and have been grateful to be alive after every encounter. The man's a menace. I just hope Mac's okay."
Saturday morning, Uncompahgre National Forest, CO
Pain. Jim clenched his jaw as he broke the skin of his hand with the tines of a fork. The pain gradually pushed back the dizzy drowsiness he was fighting. Soon, Jim was able to carefully concentrate his sight around the darkness. Blair laid in a heap at his feet, Sam's crumpled form a couple of feet away. Abandoning sight for the moment, Jim focused on sounds outside the cabin. He could hear Murdoc walking away laughing. Anger rose, but Jim pushed it to the side. He had a few problems to solve before going after Murdoc, like finding fresh air. First, though, he had to stop the gas.
After one-handedly unstrapping his snowshoes, Jim concentrated on the pain again. Then
imagining Blair's voice giving him careful, deliberate instructions, Jim focused his hearing inside, pinpointing the hissing gas. Piggy-backing his sight with hearing, Jim spotted the tiny tube in the wall. He walked over and smashed it shut with a nearby fire extinguisher.
Well, that took care of one problem. Now for fresh air. Jim started towards the window, pausing as he noticed the wires running alongside it. Damn, the bastard had them wired. Blood was dripping off his hand from the fork as Jim turned around. A wood stove sat in the corner. Jim walked over and checked behind it. Yep, a thick pipe ran out the back. Checking carefully for wires or explosives, Jim pulled out the fork in his hand and used it to pry the tube out of the wall. A cold, crisp mountain breeze flowed in. Jim held his face in the opening, breathing the pure air.
After his head cleared, Jim took one last breath and held it. He then strode over to Sam, who was the closest. Unstrapping his snowshoes, Jim rolled the limp form face up into his arms. Jim quickly, yet gently, pulled him over to the opening. He carefully propped the lanky man against a stack of wood, face next to the hole. Taking a couple more breaths of clean air, Jim then turned back for his partner. By the time he had half-dragged, half-carried Blair to the hole, Sam was beginning to stir. Kneeling beside the hole, Jim gently pulled his partner up to rest on his chest, face to the breeze. Then he laid a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder as he began to cough. "Easy, kid. Just breathe."
Sam's eyes blinked open. "J-Jim?"
"Easy. Take deep breaths."
Sam followed the instructions. As his head began to clear, he turned to study his
brother. "How's Blair?"
"Still out." Jim laid a hand on Blair's forehead. The ether had pushed his exhausted friend into deep sleep again. Noting how cold Blair's face was, Jim turned back to Sam. "Do you think you can hold him up by the hole?"
"Sure," Sam replied drowsily. With Jim's help, he managed to wrap his good arm around Blair, leaning him against his side.
"Okay, I'll be right back."
Sam laid his head on the wood pile, still appreciating the clean air. A slight shiver in the body next to him brought his head back up. "Blair?" he softly whispered. Sam pulled his brother closer, Blair's curly head finally resting under his chin. Realizing Blair was still sleeping, Sam gave him a light squeeze. "Guess we walked right into this one, Indy."
A sleeping bag was suddenly draped over their shoulders. "We all walked into this one," Jim stated, still mad at himself. He placed his face by the hole for a few minutes. "Now I know what your father meant by Murdoc being a master of disguises."
"Yeah, I didn't even have a clue he was Murdoc, and we've seen him three times before this." Sam sighed, then looked over Blair to Jim's face. "Do you think Murdoc will lure Dad here?"
"I don't know. There is a camera over there in the corner. It's not on now, but probably has a nice view of the cabin floor."
"Where we would be right now, except for you." Sam's eyes turned puzzled. "How'd you manage to stay awake?"
"Old trick I learned in Peru," Jim stated, looking behind them. He didn't want to go into his sentinel abilities at the moment. "Our current problem is that we are still in the cabin with the windows and door all rigged to blow."