"This way," Jim said, pointing up the snow covered incline. The trees were thinning; they were nearing the pass. His two guards followed quietly while Jim tracked Landers with ease.

"Great..." Sills complained, glancing down at his boots. "I knew I should have brought my other boots."

"God, you're such a whiner," Crain muttered.

Jim suppressed a smile. These men weren't partners. They barely tolerated each other. Taking them down shouldn't be much of a problem. His only issue would be limiting his use of extreme force. He needed to retrieve Blair, arrest Marsh and stop Landers from getting away. Actually, he would be happy with just the first objective, to heck with the military.

Ten minutes later, Jim saw his chance. He was picking up the sound of running water somewhere deep beneath the crusty surface of the snow. Probably a creek supplied by the melting runoff from above. Jim dialed up his hearing. If he could find a spot where the snow mantle was thin, he could drop one man through, giving him time to take out the other. Jim changed his direction, following the sound. He found a suitable spot near an exposed clearing.

Jim paused, waiting for the two men to approach. They'd both gotten lax during the walk. Jim stood still, as if he was checking the surroundings for a familiar landmark.

Crain was the first to approach. Perfect.

"What's the problem, Ellison?"

"Just making sure we're on the trail," Jim told him. "See? Those are Landers' footprints there."

The shadows had lengthened and Crain came close to see what Jim was pointing at. With a strong shove, Jim sent the man directly into the clearing. Without pausing to observe the results, he turned and jumped for Sills.

A hard punch and a knee to the groin dropped the younger MP like a tree. Jim snagged the handgun with his left hand, fell to his knee as he turned back to check on Crain.

The older MP stood in a hole, only his upper chest and head visible. With a look of fury on his face, he had his gun up and pointed at Jim. Not wasting time by transferring Sills' gun to his right hand, Jim fired, pulling the trigger a split second after Crain did. The bullets crossed each other, only Jim's found its target as he felt Crain's bullet sail past his ear. Crain fell back, sinking out of sight, a splatter of red staining the white snow behind him.

Jim took a second to expel a lungful of air and sent heartfelt thanks to the training Sergeant that insisted Jim learn to shoot with both his right and left hand. That was just a little too close for comfort. Sills lay still, curled in a fetal position in the snow. Jim grabbed an arm, dragging the unconscious man to a sturdy-looking tree. He quickly cuffed the man to its trunk. Nothing short of a chainsaw would free him. Before checking on Crain, he patted Sills pockets, finding no backup gun, he confiscated the man's handcuffs and key, he'd need it for Landers.

Jim walked to the edge of the hole, careful not to fall in. During the spring, the running water had been slowly melting the snowdrift from the ground up. Crain lay half in the frigid, flowing water, about four feet beneath the snow. Dialing up his hearing, he checked the man for a heartbeat, it wasn't there. Crain's gun had sunk into the snow near the edge. Jim picked it up and stuck it in his pocket, needing all the firepower he could get. Marsh was a crack shot.

A few minutes later, Jim jogged back down the mountainside, retracing his path. His cell phone had reached a signal, help was on the way. Simon's last words to him were to wait for back up, funny how the signal had picked that exact moment to fade.

Blair cursed as another cedar bough slapped his face. This was getting annoying. Walking with your hands behind your back through a forest was impossible. When the branches weren't tearing up his face, he was falling off half rotted down trees trying to climb across.

"Man, why couldn't we have stayed on that trail?" Blair moaned, seeing another downed Douglas fir blocking their path a few feet ahead.

"Because, I parked the Jeep in this direction. Now, quit slowing us down," Marsh ordered with a strong shove.

Blair managed to keep on his feet. He was sore and muddy from more falls then he could count. Marsh was taking them on a course that ran up the valley, neither losing nor gaining elevation. For the life of him, Blair couldn't remember from Jim's map what lay in this direction, except more mountains.

"So, there's a road up here?"

"You know, keeping you alive is becoming a chore."

"Excuse me for asking a simple question. Like you're not going to kill me anyway," Blair replied boldly.

"Real cocky, aren't you?" Marsh said with dry humor. "How'd you end up with Ellison, anyway?"

Blair shrugged, at least the guy was talking to him without threats - or shoving. "A friend faxed me his bio, I needed someone for my dissertation on closed societies."

"Typical, waste time with your head in a book, writing about life instead of experiencing it," Marsh snorted.

"What's up with you, man? Someone poison your puppy when you were five?" Blair asked exasperatedly, stopping to look at his captor. "Jim said you used to be a great career officer."

"You know, you've raised a good point. Why bother to keep you alive? I am planning on killing you anyway," Marsh said, reaching for his gun.

Blair's eyes tracked the man's right hand. This was so not where he hoped the conversation would lead. "You don't want to kill me," he blurted without thinking.

"I don't?"

Blair swallowed, his mind frantically searching for a reason, any reason, even a `not-quite-the-truth' reason. "I know where the diamonds are, Landers told me! He said he was totally freaked when he found them, man, said no one's gonna believe his word over a colonel's."

"So... where are they?" Marsh asked, his hand resting on the grip of his sidearm.

Blair rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Do I look like an idiot? I'm not telling you, then you will kill me!"

Marsh pointed forward. "Walk."

Blair turned, half expecting to be shot in the back of the head. Instead, a sharp shove between his shoulder blades sent him face-first onto the duff-covered ground with a grunt. His nose wasn't going to take much more abuse.

"Get up," Marsh demanded in a `no-nonsense' tone.

"If you'd stop shoving, I'd stop falling," Blair pointed out, rolling to one side. Blair closed his eyes for a moment, breathing quietly through his nose. As long as he was down here, he might as well grab a break.

A bright nova of pain flashed across his back, throwing him face-first into the dirt again.

"Get your ASS up before I put a bullet through your over-educated brain and leave you here!"

Blair spit out the dirt he'd inhaled, rolled back to his side and curled his knees up to his chest. The pain was intense! Centering in the small of his back and spreading like waves each time he moved. The expression `been kicked by a mule' came to his pain fogged brain, only in this case - army issued steel-toed boots.

It was a Herculean struggle to roll up on his knees, Blair couldn't manage it. A hand in his hair pulled him up, and Blair stumbled forward, his world still tilted in agony.

Maybe he'd try being quiet for a while.

In fact, he worked so hard at the task; he almost missed it, a chance to leave this colonel-from-hell behind. Blair was tired of the abuse. He wanted free. Even knowing he would still be cuffed, he wanted out of reach from Marsh's threats, shoves, and boots.

Just ahead, the hillside became steep, with a short drop off to the left. A narrow opening between the drop-off and a tall outcropping of house-size granite boulders would be the logical path to take. The drop-off wasn't anything serious and Blair didn't expect the fall itself to win him an escape. However, the large patch of Devil's Club growing below was perfect.

The broad lush leaf of the plant hid the sharp thorns underneath, as well as the long hypodermic needle-size spines growing on the tall stocks. Each plant was about four to five feet high. Once they worked their way through your skin, the needles made your life a living, burning, itching hell.

Blair couldn't think of a nicer place to send this guy.

Maybe it was the fact that up till now, Blair had not made any attempt to escape. Marsh walked with confidence, not even bothering to draw his gun. Blair waited until they were even with the drop-off. With a hard cross-body check, he sent the colonel falling over the edge to land `smack-dab' in the middle of the plants.

Blair ran, spurred on by the outraged curses and threats coming from below.

Jim changed direction - more to the east - as he trotted down the mountainside, leaping over trees and ducking under the green boughs. He was getting close. He had located sounds of something crashing through the underbrush. He pushed his hearing, picking up soft mutterings.

"Too much time with the GI Joe dolls as a kid... gonna call those twits at Mattel as soon as I get home and give...ouch! ...them a piece of my mind."

Jim locked in on his guide's voice and quickened his pace. Blair sounded tired, his voice tainted with exhaustion and pain. To his relief, Blair ran alone. Jim didn't stop to wonder why; thankful for the lucky break - about time - they were overdue for one.

Suddenly, the sounds of a mini-landslide accompanied by a sharp terror-filled cry reached his ears. With a curse about counting your luck prematurely, Jim poured on the speed.

Within seconds, he broke out of the tree line. The ground was covered with loose, broken bits of shale, dropping away at a steep angle. Jim waved his arms in a comical attempt to keep his balance. The entire mountainside dropped off to a sharp downward bowl-shaped valley. The slide ended at the edge of a cliff, with dark green treetops visible several hundred feet below. Blair lay on his back, sliding towards the edge.

"Sandburg!"

"Jim, HELP!" Blair screamed, terror making his voice crack.

"Stay still, you're gonna stop in time!" Jim called, praying he was right. Using his hands for additional traction, Jim scrambled over the rocks, barely able to keep his own descent controlled. He approached from an angle, not wanting to knock any loose stones down on Blair.

"OhgodohgodOHGOD!" Blair chanted, still sliding towards the edge. Jim dropped to his belly, head down, and reached out a hand to snag his guide by the shoulder. Both men were spread-eagled on the ground, Blair on his back, feet pointing towards the cliff, Jim on his stomach and holding on tight.

The additional friction allowed a slow, torturous halt, just as Blair's hiking boots dangled over the edge.

"Uh..." Blair croaked weakly, swallowing hard, his voice strained. "So, you... got away."

Jim twisted his fingers firmly in the material of Blair's parka, his left hand desperately seeking a stable purchase in the loose shale. They were far from being safe. "I was just going to say the same thing, Darwin. Where's Marsh?" he replied with a calmness he didn't feel.

Blair screwed his eyes shut, his face white with fear. "Left him behind... he was slowing me down."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah..." Blair slid another inch. "Jim!"

"I've got you, partner," Jim said, his blood flowing to his head, building pressure behind his eyes, pounding to get out.

"No... let me go, man. I'm gonna pull you over!" Blair cried out fearfully, his voice hardly recognizable.

"Blair, we're not going over," Jim insisted slowly, working to sound calm and certain. "Just stay still."

Jim lifted his head, searching for a solution, but there was nothing for his left hand to grab. He turned to his right and saw a hint of salvation. Near the edge, a small lip of rock formed a shallow shelf. Jim carefully changed hands and reached for the rock formation. It was too far.

"Jim..."

"Quiet, Blair," Jim muttered. Rolling slowly onto his left side, he brought his right leg up, bending at the waist like the jackknife motion made during a high dive. He moved carefully, feeling the loose shale underneath his body start to slip. "Got it," he whispered as his hiking boot reached the lip. With a tentative push, his toes confirmed the protrusion of rock was solidly attached. If the shallow shelf broke free or Jim's foot slipped off, it would seal both their fates.

Blair's body broke free again and started to slide, but Jim stopped him. The younger man choked back a cry of relief.

"Okay, I'm going to pull you and straighten up at the same time. It's not going to be fast, so bear with me," Jim explained softly.

"T-take... your time, Jim," Blair whispered in a shaky breath.

It was amazing how much strength it took, but finally Jim had Blair away from the edge and at his side. Both Jim's heels clung to the rocky protrusion. He allowed a moment to relax before fishing his handcuff key out of his pocket and helping Blair roll to his side. The lock was stiff. After working the key for several minutes in the military cuffs, he managed to free Blair's right wrist.

"I can wear them home... make a new fashion statement," Blair teased, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

"Ingrate," Jim admonished lightly, grateful that Blair was able to joke. Knowing his friend's serious fear of heights, any joking right now was a testimony to the student's bravery. He made faster work of the second cuff, then slipped them into his pocket. "Okay, you climb up first; I'll brace your feet. Once you're off this shale, lower something down for me to use."

"Got it." Blair rolled over onto his stomach. With Jim's support, he worked his way up the steep slope until he reached the first tree. Without a word, he quickly removed his parka and lowered it back down. A few seconds later, Jim was at his side.

"Oh... my... god!" Blair exclaimed, curling into a tight ball in the dirt and hugging his knees.

"Ditto... you okay?" Jim asked.

Blair pressed his face against his knees. "Ask me next week. I can't believe we didn't go over that cliff!"

Patting Blair's shoulder absentmindedly, Jim extended his hearing into the forest. How far away was Marsh? Was he pursuing? For that matter, was he conscious?

"What kind of condition is Marsh in, Sandburg?"

"Uh... I pushed him into a clump of Devil's club, man. He's not gonna be feeling very good," Blair replied without uncurling.

"Ouch...shit, Sandburg. You play rough," Jim joked. Blair didn't need to carry a gun, Jim thought, continually amazed at his partner's ability to get out of fixes. "Put your coat back on, we need to try and find him. Simon's sending us help."

With a groan, Blair sat up and stiffly worked his arms into his coat. It was obvious to a five year-old that the younger man was hurt. Blair's face was crisscrossed with red scratches and welts, but there was something about the stiff way he moved. Blair accepted Jim's hand in standing, swaying once before finding his balance.

"What's wrong with your back?" Jim asked, stopping Blair in the act of zipping up the coat and lifting his clothes to look.

A large bruise colored his lower back.

"Crap! What happened to you?" Jim asked sharply.

"Marsh, man. He swings a mean steel-toed boot," Blair grumbled, tucking his hair behind one ear and trying to twist around to take a look.

"You're gonna need a hospital, Chief. You need to be X-rayed."

"Oh, man! This is so not fair," Blair mumbled to the world at large.

They reached the cabin by dusk. A half dozen men and women dressed in King and Chelan County jumpsuits waited for them.

"Any sign of Colonel Marsh?" Jim asked, after he'd identified themselves, and briefly explained the situation.

A heavyset man with graying hair and a ruddy face shook his head. "It's possible he got around us. Some of the logging roads double back on themselves," he explained. "Your captain said we have two bodies above on the ridge?"

"Yeah. One's alive, he may be conscious by now. He's cuffed to a tree. I'll take you to him. We also have a private on the other side of the mountain, he should be on foot, following the forest service road heading south. But first we need to get my partner to the hospital, he's injured," Jim explained.

"Jim, I'm fine," Blair protested weakly. God, he was tired. He remembered the cots inside the cabin. All he wanted was a chance to lay down on one of them - for about a week.

"Shut up, Chief. You're getting checked out. No arguments," Jim answered.

"We've got ATV's, we'll get you down on those," the sheriff said, giving Blair a friendly smile.

"No walking?" Blair said, feeling a little better already. "Cool, man, thanks."

"No problem." The man unfolded a large, detailed topographical map and held it out for Jim. "Just tell us where you left the MPs, we'll bring them down. I've got more units on the south side, if your private is following the road, we'll find him."

Blair let himself be led over to a strange looking vehicle. It had handlebars like a motorcycle but four large knobby tires. Behind the seat was a large basket. The driver rearranged the gear in the basket, forming a nice padded seat for Blair to sit on. Another similar ATV was being fixed up for Jim. After giving the sheriff deputies every bit of information they could think of to help locate the MPs, Jim and Blair climbed on for the ride down the mountain.

They followed a faint path was visible through the forest. Blair's ATV took the lead. The first jarring bump caused Blair to clutch at his back and gasp. The driver slowed down and twisted in his seat to look back. "You okay?"

With a tight nod, Blair gritted his teeth. He just wanted off this mountain. "I'm fine."

The man nodded, taking the trail at a slower pace, avoiding some of the deeper ruts. Blair held on and tried to keep his gasps to a minimum. Blair knew Jim would be monitoring every sound he made.

Finally they reached the valley and a dirt road filled with parked sheriff's vehicles. Jim was at his side before Blair's driver was able to shut off the engine.

"Easy, Chief."

It hurt to move, to even breathe. Blair froze, knowing he had to dismount, but not able to. Jim and the driver each took an arm, lifting him off the ATV. It was torture, but he managed to straighten his legs to stand. His back felt like one entire muscle spasm. "Oh, man...just shoot me, Jim."

Jim glanced at the driver, frowning. "What's the ETA on that ambulance?"

"Five to ten minutes."

"Jim, I need to sit down, man," Blair insisted, but Jim shook his head, not releasing his grip.

"Do you guys carry a full backboard or something?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, we've got a roll up surplus litter. I'll get it," the deputy answered.

"If you sit down, it's only going to hurt you again when you get up," Jim explained to his friend. "This way we'll lift you."

Blair nodded, not trusting himself to speak; it took all his strength to keep from crying out in pain. They laid him down on a green canvas litter, the kind Blair remembered seeing in old war movies shown on late night TV. Jim folded his tall frame to sit in the dirt next to the litter while deputies fetched blankets and water bottles. The twilight was deepening to full darkness now. The crickets and frogs serenaded them from the shadows.

Clutching the scratchy wool blanket closer to his neck, Blair rode out a fierce wave of pain, sighing when it finally loosened its hold on his back. He let his eyes close in surrender. A rolled up blanket was inserted under his head for a pillow. The worst seemed over. Now that he wasn't bouncing around on the back of an oversized dirt bike, his back didn't feel so bad. Maybe he could talk Jim out of a trip to the hospital.

Another wave of pain hit, stealing his breath. He felt Jim's hand tighten on his shoulder in silent comfort.

Then again, maybe not.

When Jim got the news of the fatal shoot-out, he had just finished talking to the doctor treating Blair. They were in an exam room in Leavenworth's small hospital. The quaint Bavarian-style village was a big year-round draw for tourists. Even though Jim had seen the tall Alp-like mountain peaks rising up around the village in the darkness, he had no time to enjoy their beauty. Blair's ambulance ride had been hard - real hard, as in `tears-down-his-white-face-and-squeezing-Jim's-hand-until-Jim- had-tears-on-his-face' hard.

After X-rays and a careful check of Blair's urine for blood, the doctor prescribed a strong muscle relaxant for the spasm, declaring Blair's left kidney to be badly bruised. The staff cleaned up his scratched face, leaving it shiny with antibiotic ointment. Currently, Blair was asleep, free from pain and oblivious to the news the Chelan county deputy was sharing.

"Landers started firing as soon as they surrounded him, it sounded like a righteous shoot," the female deputy explained.

"Damn," Jim muttered, scrubbing his head with one hand. "Where did they find him?"

"About three miles below your truck, which is being driven here, by the way. Landers broke out your driver's side window and tried to hotwire it. But the deputies managed to get it started with your key."

Jim nodded. "Any word on Marsh yet?"

"None, they've widened the search pattern. Technically, the north side of the mountain is in Snohomish County, so we've got three different agencies to co-ordinate. Still, it's a decent search, if he's still out there; we've got a good chance of finding him. Oh, and I'm supposed to tell you that the dog trackers found both of your packs and they'll be in your truck when it gets here. " She opened up her metal clipboard and tucked Jim's handwritten report inside. "I've got to get back, I'm glad your partner is better."

Jim rubbed his neck wearily, trying not to dwell on the damage to his truck. Now that Blair was out of pain and they were both safe, he allowed himself the luxury of giving into his exhaustion. What he wouldn't give for a hot cup of coffee. Checking to make certain his guide was still asleep; he opened the door in search of the magical brew and literally bumped into Simon Banks.

"I've been all over the damn place hunting for you, where's Sandburg?" Simon asked, relief warring with irritation. Simon was beginning to feel he couldn't leave these two alone for more than two hours without advising the National Guard to be on alert.

Jim held up a hand, with a face that looked ready to shush him.

Simon was in no mood to be shushed.

"Jim...?" a soft voice called out from over his best detective's shoulder.

"Just a second, Sir," Jim said, turning his back on Simon and going to the exam bed. "Sandburg?"

Blair blinked in confusion; a battered looking, bruised hand emerged from under the hospital blanket to push long strands of hair back, giving Simon a good look at the young man's face. Blair looked like he had just fought three rounds with a barbed wire fence - and lost. His face was crisscrossed with angry looking red welts and scratches.

"For crying out loud... what have you two been doing?" Simon asked softly. But Jim was tending to his partner.

"Time to leave, Jim?" Blair asked.

"If you're ready, the doctor already signed your release," Jim told him, pulling down the blanket and helping Blair sit up.

"How you doing, kid?" Simon asked, reining in his emotions in light of Blair's condition.

"Hey, Simon," Blair said around a huge yawn. He rubbed his eyes. "When'd you get here?"

Jim grabbed a shoulder before Blair finished oozing off the edge of the bed. "He just got here, Chief. Take it slow, buddy."

"Sure, youbetcha..." Blair muttered, his head rolling over to rest on his shoulder. "Wow, whatever they gave me is sooooo nice, Jim. Back doesn't even hurt anymore."

"You're higher than my ex-wife's Visa balance, Sandburg," Simon said, turning to look at Jim. "You want him to drive back with me? He'll be more comfortable sleeping in the back seat."

Jim steadied Blair with a hand under one arm as the younger man left the exam table to stand on two wobbly feet. Simon waited for Jim's response. Over the years, Simon had learned to read some of Jim's expressions. Right now he was wearing his `I'm-not-letting-Blair-out-of-my-sight' face.

"I can manage to take care of one dopey college student, Jim," Simon said.

"Sorry, Simon. I know you can. I'm just jumpy," Jim admitted as they headed towards the exit, both cops supporting Blair by his arms. "The truth is, I'm thinking of getting a motel here. The truck's on its way, it's late, we're tired and hungry..."

Simon nodded knowingly. "You've got a point."

Finding a place to stay was easier than Simon anticipated. Jim spotted a Chelan County Deputy sitting in her car, typing on her laptop. They seemed to already know each other. When they asked her for a recommendation, she was happy to assist.

Leavenworth had no shortage of hotels. Jim was offered a more than reasonable price on a suite for all three men. The owner turned out to be the deputy's uncle. Simon detoured to his car and grabbed the emergency overnight bag he kept in the trunk. They walked the two short blocks to the hotel, above the quaint gift shops.

After helping Jim get Blair up the steep staircase to their lodgings, Simon left to bring back a late dinner, with the understanding, he'd get the full story later.

Barely acknowledging Simon's departure, Jim propelled Blair through the front kitchenette and furnished sitting room, towards the smaller of the two back bedrooms. Two twin beds were crowded into the room, with a low, six drawer dresser and a large mirror.

"Why do I have to lay down, man? I'm hungry," Blair complained.

"Simon's getting us dinner. You can rest until he gets back. I'll even let you eat in bed," Jim explained patiently as he unzipped Blair's parka.

"He mad?" Blair's fingers fumbled to help Jim, but only slowed the progress.

"No, why would he be mad?" Jim asked, guiding his friend to take a seat on the edge of the far bed.

"We lied, man. We went off to find Landers and he got away," Blair said. His upper body listed to the right until he collapsed on top the green bedspread.

Jim wrestled the hiking boots and socks off Blair's feet. "He's not mad, Chief. Now stand up, you can't sleep in those pants, they're filthy."

"Sliding down a mountainside will do that to clothes, Jim," Blair explained, sounding lucid for a moment.

"No kidding, that must be why I'm wearing twenty pounds of caked dirt myself," Jim teased.

Apparently it wasn't a good idea to tease a drugged Sandburg.

Blair hid his face in the bedspread. "Oh, man... I'm so sorry, Jim..."

"Sandburg, I was joking," Jim groaned, detecting the scent of tears. At this rate, he'd never get Blair settled down. "Remind me never to get you drunk," he muttered softly, pulling his guide back to a sitting position.

"I almost got you killed, man," Blair confessed, emerging with a mournful expression and shiny eyes.

"Sandburg, listen to me. Watching you go over that cliff was not an option. I don't want to hear another word, understand?"

Blair fell silent while Jim finished getting him undressed. Simon had loaned them an extra set of Cascade PD sweats from his bag. Jim pulled the sweatshirt over Blair's head, careful of his damaged hands as he threaded each arm through the sleeves, which dangled several inches past Blair's fingertips. Jim rolled the cuffs back and held up the covers up while Blair crawled into bed. Blair still looked like someone had just taken an ax to his laptop.

"Blair?"

"Yeah?"

"It's okay, everything's good... understand?"

No answer.

With a sigh, Jim sat on the edge of the bed. For some reason, he couldn't walk out without banishing his guide's personal demon. Thankful no one back at the bullpen was ever going to hear about this moment, he rubbed Blair's shoulder lightly.

"We're okay. You got away from Marsh, you did good."

"We were sliding, Jim, I almost pulled you over the cliff with me," Blair muttered softly.

Jim turned off the lamp next to the bed, the only light coming from the open door. Still able to see Blair's face clearly in the darkness, he found it easier to share his thoughts in semi-darkness.

"You put yourself in danger for me with that garbage truck, remember?" Jim told him. "You proved then you could back me up. And I'd never let my partner face a cliff alone. Besides, I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done for me."

Blair stared up at Jim in awe. "Wow... I... wow, man."

"Good," Jim said with a laugh and final pat before standing. "That's my quota of sensitivity for the year. You want me to wake you when Simon's back with food?"

Blair huffed and rolled his eyes. "Nah... I'm too warm. Buy me a big breakfast."

"You got it," Jim promised. "Now, go to sleep."

"Jim! Let go!"

"Hold on, Blair, we're not going over."

With a desperate wrench of his shoulder, Blair broke free and disappeared over the cliff.

"Nooo!"

"Jim!" Simon hissed, gently shaking a bare shoulder and stepping back, proving he didn't make captain by being stupid.

Jim's blue eyes snapped open. His forehead damp with sweat, he levered himself into a sitting position and turned to check on his sleeping guide.

"He's okay, Jim. You didn't wake him," Simon assured the man.

Blair slept peacefully in his own bed. No indication of bad dreams. How could he? They were playing a broken loop in Jim's mind all night.

"I knew I should have brought back something mild," Simon said quietly. "That Mexican food was too spicy."

Jim flopped back onto the mattress and flung an arm over his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Just after two."

"Sorry I woke you, Sir."

"I wasn't asleep," Simon admitted.

Jim lifted his arm and looked at his boss in surprise.

Simon shrugged. "I just got off the phone with the sheriff's office..."

Tossing back his covers, Jim reached for the borrowed sweatpants. "Let's go back into the other room. I don't want to wake Sandburg."

"So, what's the latest?" Jim asked, pulling on his t-shirt as he walked into the front room of the three-room suite. A half full coffee pot was still plugged in, its red light indicating the burner was still hot.

Simon leaned against the counter as Jim poured a cup. "The search for Marsh has turned up nothing. The Feds are on their way; apparently they've been aware of stolen diamonds entering the US for a few years now. They suspected the military was involved but have been beating their fifty-dollar hair cuts against the wall, seems the army was not in favor of looking close to home for the guilty parties."

"I'll bet," Jim said with a soft snort as he took a small sip. The strong brew tasted like burnt grounds, but he'd had worse.

"I have a feeling Marsh got away. Question is - can he run far?" Simon asked.

"He acted like he needed those diamonds to finance his escape. If he has another source of funds, he'd have already cut his losses and retired to some third world country by now. Maybe he needs these diamonds to get to the rest of his loot."

"Possibly, it takes some serious money nowadays to fund decent ID and safe passage out of the US. He'll have military and Federal agents looking for him now," Simon said, pinching his lower lip, then piercing his detective with a stern look. "What's up with you and Sandburg going after Landers today without my knowledge?"

Jim grimaced. Time to face the music. "We... no, I didn't want to say anything yet, Simon. Something was off with Marsh's story. Frankly, I wanted to be wrong. He used to be a good officer. I felt I owed it to him to check it out quietly."

"What made you two think the colonel's story was off?"

"You want the official version or the Sentinel version?"

Simon rolled his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest. "Why do I even ask these questions?"

Jim didn't comment.

"Okay, the agent in charge of the investigation is arriving sometime today. I told his assistant director - another man that gets very little sleep - that we'd stay put here until they interviewed you both."

Jim nodded. "Sounds fair."

"Good, now pour that foul stuff out and go back to bed," Simon ordered. His face softened as he added, "Unless you want to talk about that nightmare you were having."

Jim shrugged, following his advice and dumping the coffee. "Sandburg and I had a few tense moments. Nothing we couldn't handle."

"Right," Simon drawled, crossing his arms. "I get the feeling you two had a major close call you're not telling me about."

"We came less then an inch from going over a two hundred and fifty foot cliff," Jim said without emotion.

"Damn... no wonder. I'd have a few dreams of my own."

Blair eyed the pill on the table with trepidation, flicking it gently back to Jim.

"Come on, Chief."

"It makes me dopey."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does. That's what Simon said."

Jim looked at Blair in surprise. "When?"

"Last night, at the hospital. I heard him."

Simon hid behind his menu.

They were sitting at a circular booth in a German restaurant getting ready to order breakfast. After waking up around eight, they had called the Sheriff's office and set up a meeting with the Feds for ten-thirty, plenty of time to shower and eat before going to the sub-station. Simon had even arranged to have their clothes cleaned and delivered to the room during the night.

Jim slid the pill back in front of Blair with a firm look, causing Blair to sigh. Even though he was starting to feel some tightness in his lower back and twinges of pain, he wanted to be alert for the meeting. He knew Jim. The first sign of drowsiness, and Blair would be back in that bed again, taking a nap in the middle of the day.

"This is half your dosage. I can tell by looking at you, it's starting to hurt again. It won't make you dopey."

"My bet's on `Doc' or `Happy'..." Simon muttered.

"What?" Blair asked, looking over at Simon.

"Nothing, Sandburg," Jim said tossing a scowl at his boss. Simon lifted the menu again and effectively blocked it.

The waitress arrived with 3 small glasses of orange juice and took their orders. Blair agreed to taking half the pill, which would be a quarter of the dosage, with a promise to take the other half before the meeting.

"Only if I need it, Jim," Blair declared as he picked up his juice. "So what information have they learned from the MP? What was his name? Sills?"

Jim crossed arms on the table. "He admitted that Marsh had ordered both him and Crain to assist with locating Landers. Although he claims he was just following orders, said he was told it a matter of national security."

"That's crap! He knew Marsh was smuggling. No one's going to buy that story," Bair said with disgust.

"That's why you and Jim are giving your statements today," Simon explained. "The Feds need you both to make their case."

"How about the cousin?" Jim asked.

"Hey, yeah! He probably knows something. Did he know Landers was hiding up at the cabin?" Blair asked, sitting up straight and getting a sharp twinge from his lower back. He sucked in his breath and remained very still. He had to remember not to make any fast moves for a while.

"King County officers went back to the farm last night and interviewed the cousin and most of the others. He admitted that Landers was there earlier in the week, but didn't know where he'd gone afterwards," Simon explained.

"Well, I'm happy to let the army hunt him down. I called the Ford dealer in Cascade and made an appointment for the truck. I think I can limp it home in one piece," Jim said, turning the conversation away from the smuggling colonel.

"Good, man. I've got some work to do. My classes are starting up in a few days," Blair admitted.

Breakfast arrived, each man dug in with enthusiasm. Blair finished a large order of pancakes and a side of honey ham. He watched as Simon ate his omelet, wondering about the odds of getting the man to share.

"Here," Jim said, sliding half his hash browns over onto Blair's plate.

"Thanks, man."

"Lord, Sandburg. I've never seen you eat this much in one sitting," Simon commented in wonder.

"My record is fifteen pancakes," Blair told them. "My mom and I were at a lumberjack festival in Flagstaff, Arizona once and her friends dared me to enter a pancake eating contest. I came in fifth place. I didn't touch pancakes for years after that."

After breakfast, it was time for the meeting. The three men took a short walk through the park and crossed the busy highway to the sub-station. The FBI agents took their statements, asking detailed questions in separate rooms. Blair managed to get most of the way through his interview before his back started hurting. The female agent was very understanding, getting Blair a glass of water so he could take the other half of the pill. She promised to forward a transcript of the statement to Cascade for Blair to sign within a few days.

Blair nodded, happy to leave. She was pretty and under different circumstances he wouldn't have hesitated to ask her out. But his back was making him long for his futon at the loft. He said good-bye and opened the door, only to find Jim standing in the hallway, pill bottle in hand.

"No, I just took the other half," Blair said firmly.

"That's not going to be good enough for the drive home, Chief," Jim insisted.

"I'm fine, Jim. You're not going to get me to take anymore, so give it up," Blair said firmly, holding both hands out to ward him off as he walked around the bigger man.

"Why are you being so stubborn, Sandburg?"

"I don't like taking chemicals," Blair insisted. "I'll do some stretching exercises when we get home. It'll be fine. Where's Simon?"

"He's already on his way back to Cascade. If you're finished, we can do the same."

They left Leavenworth behind, taking the windy, two-lane road west. Low clouds had moved in, obscuring the tops of the mountains and dropping the thermometer by ten degrees. Blair leaned forward and turned on the heater.

"It's not that cold," Jim said.

"Maybe not to you, but that plastic they taped over your window provides zero insulation for us normal folks," Blair stated.

"You saying I'm not normal, short-fry?" Jim asked. A muffled ring of a cell phone interrupted their lighthearted argument before it even got going. Jim pulled the phone out and glanced at the LED display before answering. "Ellison... yeah, here he is."

Surprised, Blair took the phone.

"Keep it short, Chief, the battery's almost dead."

"Hello?" Blair said.

"Blair? This is Elizabeth, Kevin's mother?"

"Oh, hi! How are you?" How did she know Jim's cell number? Of course, Jim interviewed her father yesterday; she probably got it from Jim's business card.

"I'm... okay. Where are you?"

Blair frowned. She didn't sound good. She sounded scared. Poking Jim in the arm and pointing at the phone, he mouthed the word `listen'.

Jim nodded.

"We're on the highway out of Leavenworth. Your turnoff is about thirty miles ahead. What's wrong?" Blair asked quickly. To his surprise, a male voice came on the line.

"Good, you just take that turn off and get over here... or I kill the kid and her mother."

Crap! Marsh!

Blair looked at Jim in horror, not sure what to say. Jim took the phone from Blair's hand, his eyes hard and angry.

"Listen to me, Marsh. You're finished. Stop digging yourself in deeper and give yourself up," Jim said.

Wishing for sentinel hearing, Blair waited for Jim to speak again. Jim's thunderous expression darkened even more before he thumbed the red button, ending the conversation.

"What did he say?" Blair asked.

"He's going to kill them if I don't get you there within thirty minutes," Jim said with a tight frown, dialing the phone. "Damn. The battery just died."

Blair opened the glove box and pulled out the battery charger. "You're calling Simon?"

"Yeah, he can organize help faster than I can," Jim said, handing Blair the phone.

Blair plugged it into the charger and looked at the display panel. "Uh oh, it's not charging, Jim."

"Try the second cigarette lighter in the ashtray."

Blair pulled out the ashtray and moved the plug, still no charge. "Nope."

"Must be damaged from Landers attempted hotwire." Jim smacked the steering wheel with one hand, before slowing down and pulling off the road. Traffic was light this time of day.

"What are you doing? We've got to get to the farm, man," Blair said.

"You're getting out. Get a ride with a logging truck or flag down a trooper," Jim explained as they rolled to a stop.

"No way! Jim, you're not leaving me behind! Marsh said I had to be there. You're gonna need some backup, and I'm all you've got," Blair declared earnestly. Although his stomach twisted and churned at the thought of coming face to face with the colonel again, there was no way he'd let Jim go in by himself.

"Sandburg..."

"Forget it! It is not going to happen, man. You said it yourself last night. We're partners. You're not facing this alone! Now drive," Bair ordered.

To his relief and his stomach's dismay, Jim pulled out onto the road again, gunning the motor as he kept his eyes on the road and drove.

"Why does he want you, Chief?"

Blair shrugged, knowing Jim was madder with the circumstance than him right now. "I'm not sure... oh, I know, after you went off with Crain and Sills, I told him I knew where the diamonds were."

"What? Why would you do that?" Jim asked, taking his eyes off the road to stare at Blair in disbelief.

"Well, at the time, I was trying to give him a reason not to kill me," Blair explained, suddenly realizing he was the reason Kevin and his mother were in danger. "I... I had no idea he would..." Blair waved his hand in the air, not able to finish his thought.

Jim relaxed his shoulders and sighed. "It's not your fault, Chief. Do you have any clue?"

"Somewhere on the farm, I guess we have half an hour to come up with a few ideas."

Jim spotted Elizabeth's small figure standing on the dirt road ahead. Zooming in on her face, he saw she was crying. One cheek was red as if she'd been slapped. "Okay, look alert. Make sure you keep that gun out of sight."

"Okay," Blair nodded, patting his coat pocket.

"Don't use it unless you have to. I'm sure he'll take my gun, but he might not search you. As soon as it's safe, find a way to pass it to me," Jim said, knowing they had already covered this, but still wanting to review it again. God, when Simon found out they were doing this...

Jim slowed the truck, stopping next to the woman. Extending his hearing, he detected no other sounds in the area. The farmhouse was still another quarter of a mile down the road.

"He has Kevin!" she cried out tearfully as Jim opened the door, leaving the truck running. Blair arrived at his side instantly.

"Are you okay?" Blair asked, patting her arm.

She fell into his embrace, sobbing on his shoulder. "He said... he'd kill Kevin. What does he... want?"

"Landers stole some diamonds from him. He may have hid them somewhere at the farm," Jim explained as Blair patted her back. "Do you have any idea where he might stash them?"

She pulled away, turning to Jim in disbelief. "Diamonds? They could be anywhere. How are we going to find diamonds on thirty acres of farmland?"

Good question, Jim thought. "What does Marsh want us to do?"

"Uh... you two are supposed to drive me out to the north barn. There's a side road we take, he's waiting there with Kevin."

"Okay, let's go," Jim said.

They approached the large, old-fashioned barn and parked the truck next to an old Chevy flatbed. The wood barn was long overdue for a paint job. Through the open doors, Jim could see it was being used to store some of the larger farming machinery used to take care of the crops.

"Glad to see you made the deadline, Captain," Marsh called out from inside.

"We're here, Colonel. Let the boy and his mother go," Jim called out.

"I'll decide what needs to be done, send in the hippie."

He saw Blair stiffen as his side. Laying a hand on his shoulder to restrain his guide, Jim shook his head. "No! We'll both come in, you send out Kevin at the same time."

"I'm not letting them go so they can call the police. All of you get in here. I'll lock up the boy and his mother while we go get my diamonds."

Jim could see no other option. Kevin's mother looked ready to do whatever it took to get her son back. She stepped out first as the three entered the cool shadows of the barn.

Marsh stood near an interior doorway, off to their right, his hand on Kevin's arm.

"Mommy!"

"Okay, you and the kid in here," Marsh said, keeping his gun pointed at the child's head. The man's face was mottled with red angry looking pin marks, as well has his hands and wrists.

The devil's club.

Elizabeth went immediately to her son, and allowed Marsh to lock them up in a small storage room. At least they were safe for now, Jim thought. Marsh's gun pointed at Jim.

"Get over there, Ellison. By the wall."

Jim knew a search was in his immediate future. He leaned against the wall while Marsh kicked his feet apart. His gun was found and tossed towards the back, landing in the darkness.

"Okay, take us to the diamonds, kid."

Blair licked his lips. "Uh... what if I tell you I was lying when I said I knew where they were?"

"Then I kill both of you now and use the kid as a hostage to get out of here," Marsh said. "Is that what you're telling me?"

"Well, I may have an idea where he'd hide them," Blair admitted as his gaze moved to Jim.

Marsh pushed Jim towards the doorway and waved for Blair to follow. "Okay, if anyone asks, Jim is here following up the investigation; I'm the military contact. Either of you even look funny at a civilian; I'll kill them before I kill you."

It was a short drive back to the farmhouse. They entered through the back, walking past the kitchen garden with its rows of young radishes, carrots and beets. Inside, they found two women working. They left to take a break, leaving the men alone in the kitchen.

Blair still had the spare gun; unable to find a chance to pass it to the cop. Jim's big fear was Blair trying to use the gun on the colonel. Marsh was an excellent shot. If it came to a showdown between the two, Jim knew Marsh would not miss. He was beginning to regret his decision.

"Okay, where are they?" Marsh said, shoving Blair further into the kitchen.

"Uh... well, I was thinking, Landers used to hunt with his cousin, and they froze the meat..."

Marsh nodded in understanding. "I get it, hide the ice with the ice." He smiled. "Not bad, so where's the freezer?"

"I don't know, we'll have to ask," Blair admitted.

Jim tensed; this might be their chance.

Marsh neared Blair. Taking a handful of long hair, he yanked him close, jamming the gun into the younger man's ribs. "Go ask, Captain. If you're not back by the time I count to fifteen, I'm killing your partner."

Jim ran through the house, zeroing in on the voices of the two women sitting in the living room with their beadwork. Within ten seconds, he was back in the kitchen. Blair was still in Marsh's grip. Whispering in his ear about creative ways to pay Blair back for the pain of being pushed into the Devil's Club.

"There's a shed out back. It's a walk in freezer," he said, noticing Blair's head was being forced even further backwards, bowing his spine, bring tears to the younger man's eyes.

Marsh shoved hard. "Okay, let's go."

Moving fast, Jim caught Blair as he stumbled. A familiar, reassuring weight suddenly appeared in his jacket's pocket. Jim felt his chest swell with pride for his partner.

"Sorry, man," Blair mumbled, getting his balance with a painful grimace and wiping his eyes.

"You okay?" Jim asked.

Blair nodded, keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Touching moment over, girls?" Marsh asked with a sneer. "God, Ellison. You've really turned into a hippie lover."

Jim leveled his old commander with a glare. How had he missed this part of the man? He used to have so much in common with the Colonel. Or was the truth more painful? Had he been the one who'd changed?

"You want to talk or go get your diamonds?" Jim asked, taking Blair by the elbow. Whatever happened next, Marsh wasn't getting his hand on Blair again.

They headed through the garden towards a low, flat roofed building behind the farmhouse. Finding it unlocked, Jim opened the door and entered first. He saw a string attached to a bare bulb which he pulled, revealing shelves of wrapped meats and bags of vegetables lining both walls.

"Look for a package that's been unwrapped and rewrapped. The frost should be disturbed," Blair explained.

"I'll stay here, you two start looking," Marsh said, closing the door behind his back.

Jim helped Blair take down some possible packages. They worked for fifteen minutes before Marsh started to get impatient. Jim had already used his vision to scan the freezer. Nothing looked like it had been handled in days, maybe weeks. Landers had not hidden the diamonds here.

"I've got it," Jim said loudly, giving Blair a meaningful glance before stepping back and pointing towards the shelf.

"Bring them here!" Marsh said quickly.

"I can't, they're frozen," Jim said. It was actually a bag of giblets that had been placed inside the body cavity. But Marsh didn't have to know that.

Marsh moved closer, his gun hand steady. He looked at the small bag, taking his eyes off Jim.

It wasn't much of an opportunity, but both partners took advantage. Blair dove for the light string. At the same time, Jim adjusted his vision and hearing. He heaved the frozen, ten-pound bird directly into Marsh's face and ducked to one side.

The gun fired, incredibly loud in the small building, but the bullet went wild, crashing through the wall of the freezer. Before the colonel could pull the trigger again, the bird bounced off his face with stunning force, dropping the man to the floor.

"Light!" Jim shouted and the bulb was on again.

Jim had his backup gun pointed at the downed man, his foot pressing hard on Marsh's wrist, pinning the gun to the cold floor. The colonel's face was bloody, but he glared up at Jim with pure hatred.

"As my hippie partner would say, you are so under arrest, man."

Blair rocked on the balls of his feet, a grin splitting his face. "Cool."

Blair watched as Colonel Alexander Marsh was led away in handcuffs by the FBI agents. Kevin and his mother had been released from the barn and were upstairs in their room.

"Well, I think we can finally put this case in the closed pile," Simon said, puffing on his cigar as the dark sedan carrying the prisoner drove away. "Turns out, there's a reward for the recovery of the diamonds, fifty thousand big ones."

"Wow, it's a shame they weren't in with the frozen food," Jim said. "We couldn't collect anyway, though. Those rewards don't include police officers... or observers."

Blair shifted on his feet, longing to lie down. Marsh's earlier treatment had done a number on his back. He found himself ready to ask Jim for one of those darn pills. "I can't think where else Landers could have hid them. The freezer seemed like a good bet."

"True, even Marsh thought so. What did he say? Ice with the ice?" Jim repeated as the three men started to walk back into the farmhouse.

Blair paused, rubbing the small of his back absentmindedly.

"Sandburg? You okay?" Jim asked. "Need a pill?"

"Yeah... in a second, man. I just had an idea." Blair chewed on his lip in thought. Ice was a slang term for diamonds, but there were other terms as well. What if...

"Simon, if Kevin or his mom found the diamonds, would they get the reward?"

"I guess so, Sandburg. I don't see why they wouldn't."

"Great! Jim, would you go get them and meet us behind the house?" Blair asked.

Jim nodded, giving his friend a puzzled look before going through the front door. Simon frowned, falling into step next to Blair.

"You think you know where they're hidden?" Simon asked.

"Maybe."

After Jim arrived with Elizabeth and Kevin in tow, Blair had Simon explain to her about the reward. She looked interested, turning to give Blair an expectant look.

"If we can find the diamonds, that reward would be a decent start towards Kevin's college fund," Blair explained. "Want to try?"

"Are you kidding? Sure!" She said. "What do we have to do?"

"Just dig where Jim tells you to dig."

"What?" Jim said, startled when all eyes turned to him. "Sandburg, I don't have a clue where to tell anyone to dig."

Blair chuckled, pulling his sentinel to one side and whispering into his ear. Jim nodded, a grin forming on his face. They returned to stand with the others.

"Give me a second," Jim said as he let his gaze travel the rows of green vegetables. After a few minutes, he pointed half way down a row of delicate looking plants. "There."

Elizabeth and Kevin walked down the row, careful not to step on the young plants. After digging for a few seconds, Kevin let out a squeal of surprise and ran back to the men clutching a small black velvet sack.

"Look! Look!"

Simon accepted the black bag, brushed the clinging dirt from the top and opened the drawstring. The sunlight reflected off the facets of the brilliant diamonds, causing them to sparkle as if they were plugged into a live current of electricity.

Jim lightly clapped Blair's shoulder. "Way to go, Junior!"

"Sandburg!" Simon blurted out in shock. He removed the cigar clamped between his teeth before continuing. "How in the world did you know they were buried in the garden?"

"Easy, Simon," Blair answered. "When Marsh called them `ice', I started thinking of all the other terms used when talking about diamonds. And I remembered they are weighted in `carats'. So... why not hide them in a row of growing carrots?"

"I just had to look for evidence of recently disturbed soil," Jim added. "Something other than normal weeding."

Elizabeth looked into the bag with wonder. "Unbelievable, so much harm caused by a bag of rocks. Are you sure we'll be able to collect the reward?"

"You've got three witnesses to say you dug them up. Besides, you deserve it," Jim told her. "Both you and Kevin had a rough time today."

"Kevin can go to college to be anything he wants when he grows up, how cool is that?" Blair added with a satisfied grin.

Elizabeth picked up her son, hugging him until he squirmed. "We can do that, can't we, Kevin?"

The loft was a welcome sight as Jim dropped his keys into their basket. He watched Blair toe off his shoes and head for the sofa.

"It's late, why don't you take your medicine and rest in your room?" Jim suggested. They had stopped on the way back to town for dinner, Simon's treat for a job well done.

"I guess," Blair said wearily, detouring towards the sink to take a glass from the cupboard.

Footsteps approaching the front door caused Jim to pause. He opened the door, knowing who would be standing on the other side.

"Hey, is Blair in, man?"

"Hi, Jack!" Blair said, coming to stand next to Jim. "What's up?"

"Our last night in town... dude, what happened to your face? You look like you fought a mountain cat and lost."

Blair raised a hand to his scratches. "I... went hiking yesterday."

"Wow, you need to learn to duck. So, you up for another night out? We're not playing Club Doom. We'll be at The Raze. Wanna join me? The waitresses wear these itsy-bitsy outfits." Jack held out his hand, his thumb and forefinger separated by a mere two inches.

"Nah... I'm gonna pass," Blair said with a shake of his head. "I've had enough excitement for a while."

"Man, hanging with this old guy has really changed you, Blair," Jack said with a sad expression. "You used to be so much fun."

Blair laughed, no anger evident in his voice. "We all change, Jack. Believe me, it's totally a good thing. Goodnight, dude." Blair let the door close and turned to face Jim with a wicked smile. "Old guy?"

"Don't even go there, Sandburg," Jim cautioned. "He's your friend."

Blair shrugged. "True, but we don't have much in common anymore, Jim. I guess he's right. I'm not the same person I was before."

Jim handed Blair his medicine. "It's okay, Chief, neither am I. And you're right - it is a good thing."

The End

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