"Sandburg, I promised myself when I returned from Peru that I would never eat another bug."

Sitting across the small caf table, Blair glanced up at his roommate with a tolerant smile. "Jim, this is a vegetarian restaurant, remember? There is no meat of any kind on the menu!"

Ellison lifted the corner of a green leafy thing with his fork. The lunch had been his idea, but the location had been his younger friend and unofficial partner's. Maybe if he was lucky, a crime would occur near by and he'd be called away by an urgent cell phone call from Simon.

"Chief, if man was meant to be a vegetarian, then why are animals made out of meat?"

"Cute, Jim. You could make a living writing slogans for bumper stickers..."

Yeah, a bank robbery down the street he mused, tuning out his friend. What would be the odds, he pondered sipping his drink. He made a face. What was in this! How many juices can you mix without a license anyway! Searching the table for the sugar bowl he started listening to Blair again.

"....so, what do you think? You want to go?"

Oops. Damn this kid switches gears faster that anyone he'd ever met. He put a forkful of green and brown mush into his mouth as a delay tactic. What was he talking about now? The mush would not go down. Jim tried sending the food on its way with another sip of toxic juice.

"Start over again, from the beginning." Bluffing sometimes worked.

Blair's face lit up with a brilliant smile.

"Sure. Okay, spring break starts this Monday. My Uncle Buck has invited us to come and stay with him at Dry Falls. You'd love it man. He says the fishing is outstanding; no one ever goes there. The house is nothing fancy, but he's got water and power. Just think - no rain! Dry climate, sunshine and did I mention NO RAIN!"

"Breathe, Blair."

"Kay. Whatca think?" He was almost bouncing in the chair. His mug of green tea clutched in both hands.

"Dry Falls?" Jim forked another mound of mush. He found it going down easier. He still wasn't enjoying the taste, but finished the task with the determination of an ex-ranger. "Eastern Washington, right?"

Blair nodded, starting in again about the desert-like landscape, hiking trails, fishing and the geological importance of the region. Jim was not sure when it happened, sometime halfway through his meal and the kid's impromptu lecture his eye was distracted by two men sitting a few tables away. The conversation at the table was soft but without much effort Ellison was able to pick up the words.

Blair knew he had made his case. Sure, Jim was still not showing any signs of agreeing, but he knew the cop well enough to know that didn't mean anything.

".. I mean think about it. Millions of years ago a flood of incredible proportions hit the land creating a massive waterfall..." he paused as he caught a cell phone being thrown at him across the table.

The man at the other table glanced up and saw the cop, then dropped his fork and bolted. Ellison was half way out of his chair. "Call for back up. "

After a quick call to the 911 operators, Blair was certain that the information had been received and that at least two uniform teams were moments away from arriving. He had watched the police detective catch the man at the front door, make the arrest and lead him back to the table in cuffs. Ellison was now reassuring the restaurant owner that everything was okay.

"Back up is minutes away, man," Blair reported, coming to stand just behind his friend's left elbow. "What did he do anyway?"

"Hector Valdez has outstanding federal warrants." He looked at his prisoner. "Your picture has been gracing the walls of our break room for about 2 weeks."

Valdez dropped his head onto his chest and muttered several curse words. "Shit, man. What are you doing here anyway? It's not like this place serves bad coffee and donuts for you guys."

"So, Jim. Are we going?"

Jim frowned, turning to his partner. "Going? Where?"

"To Dry Falls, man! What else have we been talking about?"

"Enter!" Looking up from a paper filled with column of numbers, Simon watched his number one detective enter.

"Got a second, Captain?"

"No, Jim, not really. But I tend to make the time when it's one of my men. They teach us that in Captain school." He waved his hand to the chair in front of his desk, removed his gold-framed glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I just wish they'd teach us how to read this gibberish from accounting. Good work by the way with the Valdez arrest. I love to call my buddy in the Bureau and gloat whenever we bring in one of their bad guys. How'd you find him?"

"Didn't. Sandburg dragged me to a weird place for lunch. I just spotted him in the room." Jim zoomed in on the small print in front of the large man behind the desk. "Budget time?"

"Yeah, it's a good thing our stats are improving or I'd have some real problems in the lion den they call the Budget committee. What's on your mind?"

"Vacation request." Deciding to jump with both feet and see where or what he landed in, Jim continued. "I know I'm not giving a lot of notice, but I'd like all of next week off." He handed the form across to his Captain.

Simon took it automatically and stared at it in disbelief. `Vacation?"

"My reports are done. Henri said he'd watch my open files and field any new info that shows up. But honestly, Simon, none of those cases are going anywhere fast."

"Lord, Jim, it's not like you don't have the time on the books, I'm just surprised that you're asking.."

"Excuse me?"

Simon smiled. "Jim, do you remember the last time you asked for vacation?" He waited while the other pondered the question, then supplied the answer. "Your honeymoon."

"Oh."

"So what's new? Why the sudden change?" Simon signed the form with a quick scribble and tore off the carbon copy to hand back.

"Sandburg and I are going to Dry Falls."

"You and the kid are going to Dry Falls..." Disbelief was etched on Simon's face. "Not that it's any of my business, but why?"

"Fishing, hiking, relaxation, dry weather ... and if I'm lucky, no tests." Jim smiled ruefully. He glanced at the artfully framed posters on the walls behind his boss's head. "Have you ever fished that area?"

Twenty minutes later, after a long involved story of the fish that got away at Blue Lake, Simon was once again alone with his accounting report. Picking up the phone, he hit the first pre-recorded number on the phone base.

"Rhonda, who had this month in the Ellison Vacation Pool. Well, tell him not to spend it all in one place, he just won the pot!"

The aroma coming from the loft was intoxicating. Jim bullseye'd the basket with his keys and closed the door . The coffee table was cluttered with text books and blue books. A laptop was humming quietly to itself. He spotted the day's mail stacked on the corner by the 18-inch tower of books.

"Hey, Jim. What did Simon say?" Blair asked stirring the pot on the stove with a wooden spoon.

"Got the week off. Just need to finish a few things and I'm free." Thumbing through the mail, Jim added. "Dinner smells good. Don't tell me what's in it." He frowned at the official envelope with the return address of the Superior Court. Uh oh. He ripped it open and scanned through the single page. Yep, just my luck.

"YES! This time next week we'll be basking in the heat!" Blair sang triumphantly as he removed the stir-fry from the burner and checked the rice "Dinner is `Ellison friendly', I promise. Nothing you haven't had before. It'll be ready in five."

After washing up, they sat down to eat. Jim found the meal to be tasty, helping himself to a third dish of stir-fry and finishing off the salad bowl. He'd never told his roommate, but he had started looking forward to Blair's night to provide dinner. With a few exceptions, the meals had been enjoyable. It was a nice change from the normal take out that he tended to bring home on his nights to `cook'. He polished the plate with a whole-wheat roll and sighed. The salad had him puzzled though. None of the green stuff looked like normal lettuce.

"What was that salad anyway?. It looked like it had grass clippings mixed in."

"Sheez, Jim, iceberg is so `white bread' and worthless in the nutrients department," He lectured, taking his plate to the sink and rinsing out his bottle of ice tea. "You've had these mixed greens before, didn't you like them?" He set his bottle inside the box under the sink to join the other recyclable glass.

"I didn't say I didn't like it, I'm just curious who's garden you've been pulling weeds in," Jim replied with a grin.

Blair rolled his eyes to the high ceiling above. " I'm out of here. You down with doing KP? I've got a seven pm with a study group at the U." Disappearing into his small room under the stairs, he gathered his jacket and backpack up and returned to the kitchen and tied his hair back into a ponytail while waiting for Jim's answer.

"Sure, but listen, I need to talk to you about next week." Jim started clearing his own dishes. "I just got a subpoena in today's mail from Superior Court for Friday. I guess Mattson's case got moved up for jury. If it goes, it may last for days." He started wiping down the table with a clean rag and a spray bottle filled with a solution of water and bleach.

"WHAT!" Blair dropped his backpack. "No Way, man! This is `so' not fair!"

Jim gave the table a final swipe and calmly folded the kitchen rag into quarters. "Blair, `this' is the life of a cop. The `fair' comes once a year in Puyallup." Meaning the site of the Western Washington State fairgrounds. "You just learn to live with these kinds of interruptions."

Bowing his head and taking a deep breath, the grad student tried to relax. "Sorry. Can you still go, I mean after the trial is over?"

The cop glanced at his watch. 6:45. "We'll see, go on to your meeting. It'll be okay."

With a nod, Blair hoisted his bag back onto a shoulder and headed out the door, snagging his keys from the table by the door.

Jim started filling the sink with hot water as he scraped the food scraps into a plastic sack. That went much better then the little talks he used to have with his ex-wife. Even though she was a professional in the police world and had many times received her own late subpoena notice, he recalled the loud arguments they would have when personal plans were tossed out the window. He learned to wait for the best possible times to break the bad news, times when her mood was better to receive it. Anyway, why mess up a perfectly good dinner fighting? He didn't have the heart to tell the kid a murder trial could go for weeks, not just days.

"Hi Blair."

"Hey Joel! What's up?"

"Simon is, watch out for his bite today." Joel Taggart slapped Blair on the shoulder as they walked together down the hallway toward the Major Crimes Office.

"Who got his knickers in a twist?" Blair softly asked, waving at a pretty blond file clerk walking towards them, "Hey, Susan. Nice hair cut!"

"Thanks, Blair, you're the first one to notice!"

"Susan, they're all Neanderthals around here. I keep telling you to come work for us at Rainier. We appreciate hard working, good looking file clerks!" He flashed his best lady killer smile.

She laughed good-naturedly and continued on to the Records office. Joel chuckled as he watched another female fall under the `Sandburg' spell.

Joel opened the door to the bullpen and leaned over to whisper into the young man's ear. "Something about losing a large pool of money yesterday. I hear the bet was going on a year! Darn shame it never got to the bomb squad. I could have used the extra money about now." They entered the bullpen side-by-side, wary of running into the large captain of Major Crime.

Most of the desks were empty. Simon's office door was closed. Taggart picked up a stack of files from the corner of Rhonda's desk and turned to leave with a wink to Sandburg. "Watch your back, kid."

Nodding his head with a grin, Blair waved a hand at the bomb squad captain and sat down behind Jim's desk, reaching for a file.

Thirty-five minutes later the meeting broke up and a group of detectives spilled out of Captain's Banks office. The last one to leave, Jim headed towards his desk sipping his coffee. "See you got the McPherson interview almost finished. I knew if I held out on that one you'd get around to it."

"What, you can't read your own chicken scratch anymore, Jim?" Sandburg teased, without looking up from his rapid fire typing.

"Sure, but my spelling is better when you type my notes."

"To say nothing of your sentence structure and your vocabulary. I've been meaning to tell you the things you do with a `comma' are illegal in this state!" With a flourish, Blair finished the last line and hit save.

"I'm a cop, Sandburg. We save comma placement for grad students."

Blair leaned forward, elbows on the desk, "What did the DA say, did you talk to her today?"

Jim had promised that he would call and ask the District Attorney assigned to the Mattson case if he thought it was really going out to a jury trial next week. He had made the call but did not get a definitive answer. Trials were a lot like a game of chicken. Each side waiting to see how far the other would go before taking the deal or going all the way to trial. Ellison had even seen a defendant enter a guilty plea just as the jury panel filed into the courtroom to start the Voir Dire or jury selection.

"Sorry, Chief. Too early to call yet. You should go ahead and if I can, I'll join you."

"No way, man, then we have 2 cars to drive back." He leaned back in Jim's desk chair and drummed the desktop with two pencils from the cup of assorted pens Jim kept there. "You know, I've got a buddy from the agriculture department whose folks live in Electric City. If he's going home for spring break, maybe I could hitch a ride! Then we can drive back together." He increased the tempo of his drum solo as he vocalized his plan.

Plucking the pens from a certain `death by Sandburg', Jim made shooing gestures at his roommate to reclaim his chair. "Just so you can be stranded over there if it turns out I can't make it? I don't think so. Besides, what kind of college kid goes home to Mom and Dad for spring break."

"Dude, I said Agriculture Student!" Standing now next to Jim's desk, Blair used two fingers from each hand to place imaginary exclamation marks in the air. "Need I say more?" He laughed at the frown on his partner's face. "Just kidding. He's a nice guy. REAL practical. He's saving for his own farm. Not the type of guy that would spend a wad to fly to Florida for a week of beer and naked girls." He leaned back against the edge of the empty desk next to Jim's. "I'll sound him out and offer to buy half the gas money. It will work out great!"

Rocking back in his office chair, Jim studied his partner. "What about the part where if I can't join you, you're stuck without a ride?" Jim pushed, if Blair wasn't going to consider the possibilities, someone had to.

"I'll cross that road when I come to it, maybe Curtis will swing by and pick me up on the way back." Blair bounced back up with a grin. "Besides, I have faith. You are going to come out! That trial is not going to happen, man."

"Sandburg!"

Blair jumped as the shout from the Captain Simon Banks ricocheted off the walls to the bullpen. Bank's large body filled the door-frame of his office. "Are you bothering my detective when he should be working?" he added in a more civil if not human volume. He crossed over to stand by Jim's desk, ignoring the other detectives in the office as they either buried their faces in their paperwork or fled from the office at a near run.

Blair recovered nicely and flashed a supernova smile up at the man. "Hey, Simon. I just finished Jim's McPherson interview."

"What's this I hear about you two going to Dry Falls?"

"Yeah, it's so cool. My Uncle Buck has a big piece of land right below the falls, lots of lakes to fish in. He's trying to get an orchard started. You know apples, pears, apricots..."

Simon held up a hand to stop the flow. "All right. All right. But why now - wouldn't later in the year be better, like August for instance? You know, that's when the odds are more likely that a normal person would take a vacation."

Blair just looked at his friend's boss, stumped to come up with an answer for that observation. Jim broke into a laugh. He had been listening to fellow detectives grumble all day about that stupid betting pool. He had no idea that his private life was so entertaining to those he worked with. And they said he should get a life!

Friday at ten minutes after one pm found Sandburg packing last minute items into a large bright orange backpack an external frame. Patches advertising countries from all over the globe were hand-stitched onto the fabric.

"You've got extra water?"

"Yep."

"Hat?"

"Yep."

"Cell phone with extra batteries?"

"Yep."

"Cash?"

"Yep."

"First aid k-"

"JIM!" Blair turned from his task to glare at his friend leaning his shoulder against the door-frame to his room. "We did this last night, remember? Just chill! I've been all over the world, man - twice! And I was only sixteen at the time! I know how to travel."

Jim waited until the brief verbal assault was finished. Then calmly asked. "First aid kit?"

Blair let his head fall back and stretched out both arms straight from his side. "HOPELESS!" He dropped his arms and went back to packing.

"Yep."

"Sunglasses?"

"Yep."

"New underwear?"

"Jerk."

"Yep."

Jim pushed away from the wall and went to open the door. He could hear footsteps approaching from the elevator. Curtis Atwood stood six feet five inches in scuffed cowboy boots. His arms were tan and muscular and his hands rough from manual work.

"Hi, I'm Curtis, is Blair ready?" He reached out his right hand in greeting.

"Hey Curtis, right on time, man!" Blair entered with a bouncy step, in spite of his large pack slung over one shoulder. "I'm ready to fly."

Jim walked with the pair out the loft and down to the road. He was heading out to court anyway. He had cleared time in his schedule to make sure Blair got off okay. Plus he wanted to meet this Curtis guy and check out what type of vehicle he was driving.

Curtis watched in his rear view mirror, as the figure standing on the sidewalk grew smaller then disappeared as he turned the next corner.

"Was he serious?"

Blair snickered. "Naw, I don't think he even has a ticket book."

Six hours later Blair found himself walking down a two-lane road with gravel shoulders. The ride had been okay. But, what he had not told Jim was that his driver only agreed to drop him off at Dry Falls Junction on Highway 2. Curtis needed to head north to his home town and Blair wanted to go south. Blair's plan had been to hitch-hike the last 60 plus miles.

His first ride took only twenty minutes to land. A farmer was heading south with parts needed to repair his water pump. Unfortunately, the ride ended less than 30 minutes later when he announced this next dirt road was the turn toward his farm.

Blair removed a flannel shirt from his backpack and put in on over his T-shirt. The desert air had cooled and darkness covered the land like a thick quilt. The landscape around him was beautiful in the evening starlight. He filled his lungs with the fresh air and began his trek.

A few hours later, a fast moving four-wheel drive truck approached from the south and passed. Then brake lights came on and it looped back toward him.

"Hey, curly, ya need a ride?"

Blair looked into the cab of the large Chevy truck. Two thirty-ish men sat in the front seat. The bed of the truck was full of hay bales and barbed wire. If given the choice, Blair would have preferred to ride in the back.

"No thanks, guy's. I'm going the opposite direction."

The passenger spat a glob of tobacco juice into the gravel at Blair's feet. "Well, we can run ya where you need to go." He smiled as the driver burst into loud laughter. "Come on, son. Don't be shy. I don't bite much."

Blair took a couple of steps backward, this could get ugly. "No really, kidding aside, I'm gonna pass." He remembered seeing a ranch house light about a quarter of a mile back.

The passenger door started to open when the sound of tires screeching on asphalt interrupted the night. A battered International pick up truck sat perpendicular in the two lane road.

Buck Stevens was not a happy camper. First thing this morning his backhoe acted up and stopped running. Then he found a hole in his work boots. Then he got a letter from his attorney that they continued his civil case another month. The icing on the cake was when a total stranger called him up and grilled him about a missing `nephew'.

"What do you mean, he's not there?! He left here at 1pm. It's nearly midnight!"

Buck growled into the phone. "You don't need to wake me up to tell me what time it is. I've got a watch! Is it possible the runt was planning on stopping somewhere first? He was vague about when to expect him."

"No, the guy he was driving with was on a tight schedule to Electric City," Jim barked back.

He cradled the phone against his shoulder as he reached for his jeans. "Look, Ellison, I'll drive out and pick him up. I'll have him call you when we get in. Okay?"

"Thanks," Jim responded. "No matter what the time is, he calls me the minute he walks in, okay?"

"Yeah." Buck let the handset fall and reached for his boots, the pair with the newspaper stuffed in the one with the hole.

Thirty-five minutes later, Buck spotted the little drama in his headlights. The ugly pair of rejects from humanity worked on a large orchard to the north, just outside of Coulee City. Spinning the wheel angrily, he jerked open his door and set the parking brake before stepping out into the night air.

"Sandburg, get your ass inside this rig right now." He waved a casual hand at the dumb-struck men in the Chevy. "Hi boys. Thanks for offering my friend a ride."

Blair didn't think twice as he crossed over to the passenger side of Buck's truck and opened the door. "Thanks Uncle Buck!" He removed his backpack and dumped it in the truck bed.

"Oh my GOD, you are a sight for sore eyes!" Sandburg blurted out, leaning his head and closing his eyes. "Those two were creeping me out, man!"

Buck watched the road behind him. It didn't look like the Chevy was going to follow. He spared a moment to study the young man next to him. It had been almost a year since Blair had visited. He looked good, tired, but okay. Buck was glad to see a few pounds added to his skinny frame.

"You had some head trauma recently? Maybe cause you to forget what I said I would do to you next time I caught you hitch-hiking?" Buck asked quietly.

Blair's eyes snapped open in shock. He swallowed before carefully answering. "I was only twelve at the time. I didn't know the rule would last till my grave!"

Buck was aware that the man beside him was a grown adult, but dammit, Naomi's kid was always expecting only the best from his fellow man. "I doubt that I have to carry out my promise, anyway. You've got a Cascade cop to answer to when we get home," Buck informed him with a small grin.

"I'm toast.." Blair whispered.

Ellison's hand snatched up the cordless phone before the first ring had finished.

"Ellison!"

"Hey, Jim." The chipper words floated through the fiber optics. "Uncle Buck said to call no matter what time -"

"Did you break down?" Jim interrupted without remorse.

"Ah, no. I got dropped off where highway 2 and 17 join. It just takes a little longer to thumb a ride."

"And you planned that all along?" Jim drilled.

"I do it all the time, Jim. It's not a big deal."

"If it's no big deal, why would to lie to me and tell me that Curtis was driving you to Dry Falls?" Jim asked, trying to calm himself down.

"Jim, I never lied, man. Curtis did take me to Dry Falls. Dry Falls Junction. He just didn't have the time to go south, then double back north. He had to be home by 7:30 for his parent's anniversary party."

"It's poor planning, Chief. To many things could have happened and no one would know until it's too late," Jim explained patiently.

"But Jim, it's the way I'm used to traveling."

Ellison sighed and rolled his eyes. "We'll finish this discussion later. Let me talk to Stevens."

"Why?"

Exasperated now, Jim returned through clinched teeth. "To thank him, okay!?"

"This is Buck."

"Look, thanks for driving out and picking him up. I'm sorry if I was a jerk on the phone before," Jim said in a tired voice. "I'd understand if you'd rather I didn't come out. I just need to know if there is a bus service that could bring Blair back at the end of the week or if I should drive out and pick him up."

To Jim's surprise, the other man started laughing.

"Ellison, you get out here as soon as you get free. I'm looking forward to swapping Sandburg stories with you."

Jim could hear Blair groaning in the background, "I hope to be over soon. Thanks again."

Replacing the handset onto its base. Jim checked the doors and flipped off the light switch before heading up the stairs to his bed.

The weekend was heaven. Blair woke early with Buck and helped with chores while the cool air from the night still lingered. His visits with the man had always been the highlight of his year. He weeded in the garden, replaced broken shingles on the roof of the barn, changed the oil in the International and did other odd jobs with his uncle. By noon when the mercury began to climb, they were kicked back in the shade with the scrabble board or swimming in the lake. Dinner Saturday was fresh trout Buck caught on a fly line and a salad from the garden.

Monday morning found a rain cloud sitting on the valley almost level with the top of the rim rock canyon walls. Blair watched as large drops of water made the dirt kick up as it hit the desert floor. By ten-thirty the sky was blue again and the air smelled fresh from the rain.

"I'm going to hike up to the falls," Blair announced, tying his long hair back and pulling on his boots. They had just finished replacing a leaky pipe under the sink in the kitchen. Buck's father built the small single story home with two bedrooms off the living room and a kitchen with a bathroom in the back. The foundation and lower part of the exterior walls were hand laid rocks from the area. Then the rest of the wall was wood framed. A porch the full width of the house shaded the front. The age of the place made weekly repair jobs common occurrences.

Buck finished wiping down the tools they had used and replaced them in the box. "Take a canteen with you. Watch for rattlers."

Blair stopped to pick some of the more irritating burrs off his pant legs. The desert shrub loved to give these little seed pods to unsuspecting travelers, but they hurt when they worked close to the skin. He casually scanned for ticks. Seeing none he stood straight and gazed at the view before him, using one hand to shade his eyes from the sun. Even with the sunglasses, it was bright!

God, he loved this region known as the `channeled scablands', a term first used by Geologist J. Harlen Brentz. When he first read the story of Brentz's long fight with his peers to prove his idea on how this spectacular view was created, he felt a kindred spirit. Brentz has passed on now, but in the 40's and 50's he had been determined to proved his theory. Blair knew what it was like to face a roomful of laughing professors as they looked at you in disbelief.

A 50 mile long trench ranging from 1 to 6 miles wide, named the Grand Coulee, had steep walls of basalt up to 900 feet high. Blair knew from studying maps that he was standing approximately in the middle of this awe-inspiring gorge. The original theory before Brentz's had been that erosion from wind and water had caused this spectacular view over eons of time. Until Brentz arrived in the area and started literally walking the land. He spent his adult life hiking and cataloging his finds and putting together the entire picture. He believed a huge flood caused this landscape during the Ice Age.

Blair took a long drink of warm water. Yep, Brentz never gave up. And he was right! Blair's chest swelled with pride. Now, Blair knew that he was right all along too. Sentinels still exist! And even if the world never found out, well, that was okay too. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing he was right! Besides, working with Jim had become more satisfying then he had ever imagined. In the short time he had known the detective, he began to feel as if that was his real job and being at the University was just something he did on the side.

But it felt good to get away for a break and Dry Falls was his location of choice. His first visit to this place had been anything but relaxing, he remembered with a grimace. That was the year that he and his mom had been fighting. Looking back now, he knew a lot of it was the normal rebellion that every kid goes through, but at the time he felt as if his whole world had blown apart.

His mom was going through her `self discovery era'. Unfortunately, Blair was going through his `why are we having to leave again phase'. She had met Eugene W. Stevens and had decided to move them in the middle of his school year. For the first time in young Blair's life, he did not want to go. He liked the school in northern Florida and had argued strongly against the move. Blair laughed out loud causing a large brownish bird to take flight, as he remembered his first impression of this area. His mom had never resorted to using soap to wash out his mouth before, but he knew that she had strongly considered it. He had told her how much he hated the brown cliffs, the barren treeless land, the stupid lakes and most of all Mr Eugene W Stevens and his stupid old house. Naomi had lectured him for a full hour on his attitude, bad vibes and his dark aura.

He had seen another man who was living in a small camping trailer on the property. He never talked with the guy or even seen him for more than a moment at a time. Naomi had told Blair that this was Eugene's older brother.

After a week of living with Stevens, Blair decided that the only reasonable thing to do was to declare himself a man and head back to Florida. Without revealing his plans to anyone, he headed out with some water, a little food, extra underwear and twenty-seven dollars. He made the paved road by sun up, a mere seven-mile hike. But before he could catch a ride to his new freedom a man on a dirt bike appeared out of nowhere, blocking his path.

Blair smiled and turned to head back to the house. It was getting close to his two hour deadline. He had learned from that first experience when Buck had brought him home to Naomi on the back of that bike, not to ever cause the man to worry.

Buck stood with arms crossed on his chest, watching the late model Ford truck drive the last quarter mile to the house. He watched a man a few years younger and an inch taller than himself park near the barn and walk toward him.

"Jim Ellison."

"Buck Stevens."

They shook hands like two warriors meeting for the first time.

"Army?"

"Yeah, rangers. You?"

"Navy Seal."

Jim pointed with his chin back at his truck. "I brought some groceries that should get put away. Where's Blair?"

Buck fell in beside the newcomer as they walked back toward the truck. "He's on a hike, be back in an hour." He leaned over the side of the bed and lifted the first box. It was heavy; he could see large cans of chili, boxed pasta and bottled juice. Ellison reached for a large Coleman cooler and lifted it out.

"He go very far?"

Buck let one side of his mouth rise in amusement. He recognized the look on the other's face. "He's okay, he knows how to be careful out here. Come on, I'll show you where to stow these supplies."

Twenty minutes later the food was put away, and Jim's personal gear was sitting on one of the twin beds in the extra bedroom. Both men were hiding from the heat under the protection of the front porch, sitting in comfortable rockers that look hand-made from bent willow branches.

"Your first time to the scablands?"

"It is. This is remote. I didn't expect to see so many lakes in the area." Jim admitted taking another sip of cool beer. "Good fishing?"

"It can be, this time of year's the best." Buck had seen the other man unload his fishing gear. "You fly fish?"

"Yeah, not as much as I'd like. Western Washington is over-fished. I'm not one to rub shoulders with other fishermen when I go out."

Buck nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem out here. Blair knows the good spots, even though he'd rather use a stick with a pointed rock on the end than a fly line."

Buck finished his beer and stood. "You can continue to relax. I've got a project in the barn that I need to get back to."

"Can I help?" Jim asked, finishing his own drink and following the older man's actions by tossing the long neck bottle in a cardboard box by the door.

Stevens led the way across the hard packed dirt between the house and a large open ended barn that stored white PVC pipes, wire and machinery. Sitting in the middle of the barn was an old backhoe. A tarp had been laid out beside it, and parts of the machine had been removed and neatly lined up on the tarp so the person removing each part could remember the order that the parts came off in.

Buck explained how it had simply stopped working a few mornings ago. He watched as Jim poked around then stopped to inspect the fuel cap. Removing the cap he bent down and sniffed the opening.

"I think you may have an act of vandalism, Buck." Jim pointed to the opening. "It smells like someone has poured sugar into your fuel tank.

"Shit," Buck muttered softly. "I was afraid something like this may happen."

"You've been vandalized before?"

"No, but I'm having problems with a big outfit to the north. They had a court order filed to prevent me from using the water from the lake to start my orchard. It's taken me years to get the financial support to buy the trees and prepare the land, in spite of the attempts to get me to sell." Buck raked his fingers through his short peppered hair. "This land, with water rights, has belonged to my family for three generations, I don't plan on selling out to that outfit in my lifetime. We have a civil suit that should end this once and for all, if the case ever gets to trial, that is. I have the original deed with the water rights in a safe deposit box at my bank in Euphrata."

"Why would they want to prevent you from starting an orchard? Is the water supply limited?"

"Hell, no. Banks Lake to the north is huge. The company was recently purchased by a large out of state conglomerate. They call themselves `Tri-State Orchards' and they don't release a lot of information about themselves, except to be bad neighbors and to hire some of the worst characters they could find in the area." Buck took a deep breath, as if willing himself to stay calm. "Matter of fact, the runt had a run in with two of them the night I picked him up on the highway. I was surprised to see them out of jail." Buck smiled at his guest. "Sorry to dump my problems on you. I appreciate you pointing out the sugar thing. I've got a friend that works on this old bucket of bolts, when he gets back I'll call him up to look at it."

"It's no problem, Blair and I want to help if we can.." Ellison stopped and tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes going to the large open door to the outside.

"Excuse me." Jim went out into the yard and stood looking up the slope towards the north. He raised his hand above his head in greeting. A few minutes later, Buck could hear excited shouts drift down from the north.

"I KNEW it! HA. The trial didn't go, did it?"

Buck walked out to the yard and watched Blair trot down the hill behind the house and into the yard. He was sweaty and dusty from his hike, but sporting a happy grin at the sight of his roommate.

"JIM! Did you meet Uncle Buck yet? Of course you have, stupid me. What do you think, Man? Isn't this the greatest!" He stopped in front of Ellison and bounced on his toes. "What happened to the trial? Didn't I tell you it wouldn't go? Wait, it wasn't dismissed was it? Because you had him cold, man. Tell me it was just continued, or better yet, he said he did it.."

"Sandburg, where's that hat you packed? You've cooked your brain." Ellison took a dusty shoulder firmly and turned Blair towards the house. "You need to get out of the sun. I'll tell you all about the trial inside."

Buck watched the taller man propel the shorter one back into the house. He stood for a minute and looked back at the backhoe.

Well, what do you know, he thought to himself, the runt went and found his Sentinel.

Blair leaned over the kitchen sink and splashed another handful of water on his face. He reached out blindly for the face towel Buck kept by the window only to have Jim put it in his hand.

"Thanks, man." He dried his face and grinned at his friend. "I can't believe you got here so fast!"

"I had the truck packed, ready to leave from the courthouse. When the defense attorney saw a last minute change in which judge was going to hear the case, they filed an affidavit of prejudice. So the case got continued two weeks."

"Perfect!" Blair declared. "So what do you think of Uncle Buck?"

"Seems decent, for a Navy Seal."

"A WHAT?' Blair rocked back on his heels. "He never told me that!"

Ellison laughed at the look on the anthropologist's face. "What do you mean, you never knew? This guy is your uncle, isn't he?"

"No, he just made me call him that. Never went along with kids calling adults by their first name." Blair grinned with a twinkle in his eyes. "In fact, he thought the whole hippie scene was a communist plot on America. I figured he had a military background, but he never said he was a Navy Seal. COOL!"

Jim leaned a hip against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms across his chest. "So how did the two of you meet?"

Blair shrugged. "My mom was dating his brother, we lived for a while in this house.' Blair's face got a nostalgic look. "His brother, Eugene, wanted to turn this place into a retreat to teach personal awareness and how to cleanse your aura."

"What happened?"

Blair smiled happily. "Mom and Eugene went off to collect financial backing, and I got to stay here with Uncle Buck!" Blair leaned forward and lowered his voice. "At the time, I was kinda in a rebellious stage. I was twelve."

"Oh, he straighten you out a bit?"

"You could say we came to an understanding."

"I'll bet."

Jim and Blair hiked across the canyon floor as the sun hung low in the western sky. Blair had borrowed Buck's fishing equipment. They approached the small lake nestled at the base of the massive cliff.

"Wow!" Jim glanced up in wonder. "This is amazing! You said this was a waterfall?"

"Yeah, during the end of the ice age. The falls would have been three and a half miles wide, that's bigger than Niagara, man."

"It looks more than a 300 foot drop."

"400 feet. They believe about 200 feet of water flowed over the falls. Think about it, 3 miles wide, 200 feet deep, that's like all the rivers in the world added together and it still doesn't begin to compare with the magnitude of this place!" Blair exclaimed as he led the way down through the high weeds to the water. A small boat with oars was tucked away in the vegetation on the shore.

Together they pulled the boat free and stepped on board. A young deer raised her head a few hundred feet over and watched as the men cast off from the shore. Blair took the oars as Jim began to set up his equipment, connecting his five-piece travel fly rod together. He threaded the bright yellow line through the small guides to the end of the delicate length of graphite.

"Head over to the shaded water by the cliffs, we'll try there first."

Jim finished rigging his gear and started in on Sandburg's borrowed equipment. It was a two-piece rod with a decent but battered reel. The set up was sized for medium to large size trout, about a size five. Jim had brought his size `three' travel rod, he wondered if he had underestimated the size of the trout in the lakes around here. Oh well, he'll just have to take a little more time to land them. There was little to no wind, so Jim was satisfied that his first attempt to teach Sandburg to cast would be successful.

After an hour of dry casting, Blair got the nod from Jim.

"Okay, now quit scaring the trout away and leave your fly on the water for a while."

"Kay."

They sat together in the boat for a several minutes. Jim relaxed into the heat of the day. God, this was nice. He felt the tension from the drive over flow from his body, letting his mind concentrate on nothing more than the dry fly floating on the surface tension of the water.

"Jim, can you see all the way to the bottom?"

Sigh, Ellison knew the kid couldn't sit quiet for more than ten minutes. Time to avoid the pending test he knew was coming.

"In some places, yes." He checked his fly and lifted the line to cast it out again closer to the cliff wall. "Explain again how you thought hitch-hiking on Friday was a reliable and safe means of transportation."

"Jiiimmmm. Come on, man. We covered this over the phone."

"No, I said we'd talk about this when I got here. So we're talking about it. What I don't get is how someone with your obvious intelligence thinks it's safe to take rides from strangers. Do you need more peril in your life?"

"No. I seem to get enough just hanging out at the police station," Blair retorted in a peeved voice. "Look, I get it, already. You don't like to hitch-hike."

Jim sighed. He would need to bring out the big guns. "Here's the new rule, Sandburg. If you want to continue with this partnership and your dissertation on Sentinels, you have to promise me that you will not take rides from strangers. Absolutely no hitch-hiking."

"What! No way, man. I can't promise that, what if the Corvair breaks down and I'm stranded?"

Jim shot him an exasperated look. "Gee, that's a real tough one. Call me and I'll come get you, Einstein."

Blair's anger melted. "Really, even if it's late or I'm far away?"

Ellison wondered at the amazed expression on his friend's face. "Of course if it's late, and if you're too far away, I'll make arrangements to send safe transportation."

"Why?"

Jim turned to face the young man squarely in the boat. "Blair, it matters to me. Get it? For many reasons, I care what happens to you, partners are like that, plus the obvious question, where else am I going to find help in learning about this Sentinel stuff!?"

Blair felt a flush of warmth start up his neck and into his face. "Oh." He turned away and concentrated on his fly line lying in the water.

"Tell me about those 2 guys on the highway last Friday night."

Blair's expression was comical. His eyes widened in surprise and his head almost swiveled off his shoulders as he turned to stare at the cop in disbelief.

"How did you hear about that?"

"Buck."

"Oh," Blair returned to watch the water. "Nothing to say, they stopped to offer me a ride, but Uncle Buck appeared so I didn't need it."

Jim had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to the story than Blair was telling. "Uh huh, did Buck tell you that they worked for an outfit up north that has been giving him trouble?"

"What kind of trouble?" Blair forgot the fishing line and gave his full attention to his friend.

Jim relayed the information that Buck Stevens had shared in the barn, including what he had discovered in the fuel tank of the backhoe.

"Why didn't he tell me about any of this?" Blair demanded.

"He seems like a private man, maybe he doesn't want to worry you." Jim watched a large rainbow trout head towards Blair's fly. "Twitch your line a bit, Chief."

Blair did without question and watched as the water at the end of his line broke with a roll and the small bit of yarn tied on the line disappear with a jerk.

"Lift your rod tip! Quick!" Jim instructed.

The hook was set and the fight was on! Blair watched the line go taut, the tip of his rod bending down towards the lake surface, the fly line beginning to strip off the reel at an alarming speed. Standing suddenly in the boat, Blair shouted, "Jim! What do I do?!"

Jim laughed at the near panic mixed with excitement in his partner's voice. He reached a long arm over and snagged the younger man's belt. "Start by not falling out of the boat! Let him run, he's tiring himself out. Try and keep the rod at a 90 degree angle to the line. That way your rod works as a spring. Any slack in the line and the fish may throw the hook, the only time you want slack is when-"

Just then the large 18 inch rainbow leapt out of the water, the golden sunlight flashing on its side, displaying the colors that gave the trout its name.

Both men shouted out at the same time.

"Wow! Look at this size of that fish!"

"Give slack! Drop the tip!"

As the monster slapped the water the tip of the rod lost its bend and the line was suddenly limp.

The look on Sandburg's face was priceless. Jim laughed until his sides ached. Blair continued to stare in disbelief at the water, his fly rod and finally at his fishing companion.

"What happened, man?"

Jim wiped the tears from both eyes with the back of his hand. "Oh, man!" He looked up at Blair, still standing in the boat and started laughing again.

"Jim!"

"Sorry...." A few more chuckles then he steeled his features. "Sorry, what I was getting ready to tell you is that the trout will sometimes jump, when he hits the water he will toss the hook, if you dropped your rod just before he lands and then gently apply tension again, the hook has a better chance to stay in."

"Oh, any more rules I should know about?" Blair asked, sitting down in disappointment.

"Tons, but they're best learned as you go along." Jim slapped the dejected student on the back with a broad grin. This was turning out to be a great vacation. "Tough luck, Darwin. Trust me, you'll have another one before the end of the day."

"So you CAN see to the bottom, can't you!"

Oops, this kid was like a dog with a bone!

That night the two fishermen ate dinner with a healthy appetite. Buck listened to the story of the monster that got away, laughing loudly with Jim at the outcome. They had arrived back in darkness, without fish, knowing that the previous agreement was to grill the steaks that Jim had purchased on the drive over. Jim's premonition had been correct. Blair caught and released a total of eight fish, but none the size of the first one that escaped. Jim had lost count of his fish at fifteen. It was a real treat, and a refreshing change to the lakes Jim was used to near Cascade.

"So, Buck, what are the prices of land around here?" Jim asked picking up his plate and carrying it to the sink.

Blair and Buck exchanged knowing looks.

"The beauty of the desert get to you, man?"

"Careful, Ellison, once this land gets in your blood you can never leave for long," Buck added with a grin. He helped clear the table, then returned to sit down as Blair waved him away from dish washing detail.

"A man can have investments, can't he?" Jim tossed over his shoulder as he started filling the sink with hot sudsy water. Blair stood ready at his side with a dish towel for drying.

"Hey, by the way, Jim called his boss back in Cascade, Uncle Buck. About Tri-States orchard," Blair blurted out. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"

Buck shrugged. "No proof. Just suspicions and neighbors talking."

Jim handed a clean plate to Blair. "I thought Simon might make some calls and try and do some poking around, there'd be no way to trace it back to you."

"True, I don't suppose it could hurt."

After the kitchen was back in shape, the scrabble board appeared. They played for over an hour at the kitchen table. Buck and Jim each were nursing a dark German beer. Blair made a pot of mint tea and treated himself by adding a locally made honey. Jim's score had fallen behind the other two, who were within 3 points of each other, until Blair pulled ahead with the final word, going out and ending the game.

"Quag?" Jim looked at the board. "What the heck is `quag'?"

Buck finished tallying the score and tossed down his pencil. "You little runt! If I hadn't been the one to teach you that word, I'd take a switch to you!"

Blair grinned without fear at his uncle by choice. "The student passes the teacher! It means `a swamp', Jim." He arched his back, stretching his hands above his head. "I'm beat. I'm turning in. Tomorrow night we should play for money!" Standing, he wiggled his eyebrows and rubbed his hands together in a greedy fashion.

"No way," Jim declared, holding out his hands. "Poker, yes. Scrabble with the two of you cut-throats would be suicide!"

"Chicken! Night, Uncle Buck.... Jim."

Jim and Buck retired to the rockers on the front porch to enjoy the cooling night air and finish their beers. The sound of the bullfrogs and crickets filled the night. Jim made a mental note to dial down his hearing tonight if he planned on getting any sleep. After a few nights, he should get used to the nocturnal symphony. Without the city lights, the stars were bright in the sky.

"I gotta tell ya, Ellison. I know admirals that don't have what it takes to pull off what you did today," Buck stated calmly gazing up into the night sky.

"What's that?"

"Teach the runt to fish, he really caught eight? How'd you get him to sit still long enough?"

Jim chuckled softly. "You just have to know which carrot to dangle." Jim finished his drink and set the bottle down next to the rocker. "Blair told me a little about how the two of you met."

"Yeah, damn, he was one pissed off kid. Can't say I blame him much. You met his Mom yet?"

"No."

"Nice enough lady. I'm not sure she should have been traveling around the world with a kid. Kids need more than love and pretty thoughts." Buck set his empty along side Jim's. "My brother died about seven years ago in an accident. I admired him, but he was a bit of a flake. He wanted to turn this place into a new age retreat, `course they had another word for it back then."

A pack of coyotes howled in the night, causing both men to pause and listen.

"Blair's mom and Eugene were caught up in the plan, that's all they talked or thought about. When the runt decided he'd had enough and took off, she came out to my trailer in tears. Eugene had decided maybe it was for the best, like a twelve-year-old kid could make it on his own. Anyway, she came pounding on my door and asked for help." Buck shifted in his seat and continued. "After I brought him back, his mom and I had a private talk. We decided Blair could use a little down time. I stayed on with him for a while. Turns out it was the best investment of my time I'd ever spent."

"Blair thinks a lot of you."

"It's mutual, he's real important to me. He wrote and told me that you let him move in after that warehouse fire. And now he's doing his diss on the police department?"

Jim nodded.

"It's funny, I didn't think he'd ever give up on his Sentinel theory."

Closing to door quietly, Jim easily observed the form in the far bed, bundled under the wool blanket. The desert air had cooled considerably during the hours after the sun set, causing the cop to change into loose sweatpants and a T-shirt before slipping under the sheet of his own bed. He turned his mental dial for hearing down to tune out the sounds of the desert until he could just hear the gentle sound of his roommate breathing. In seconds, he was asleep...

The first loud crash of breaking glass shot the ex-ranger into a sitting position in his bed. The inky blackness of the room was chased away as a whisky bottle with a burning tail arched through the window frame and smashed against the far wall above Blair's bed. Gasoline sprayed out soaking the wall and the blanket below. Somewhere else in the house Jim heard more windows break. Before he could get on his feet, bright flames followed the path of gasoline.

Blair woke to his bedding on fire. With a scream of terror, he started batting at the tongues of flame with his hands.

"Blair! No!" Ellison whipped his blanket off his bed and smothered the flames closest to his friend. Wrapping both arms just above Blair's waist, Jim yanked the young man out of bed with strength borne of fear. The door to the bedroom flew open bouncing off the wall behind it as Stevens ran into the room dressed in jeans, unbuttoned shirt over a T-shirt and boots.

"We've got to get out of here!" Buck reached down to grab both pairs of hiking boots on the floor. Flames spread at alarming speed and black smoke was beginning to bank down from the ceiling. Fresh air was pouring into the open window, feeding the flames. Buck took an arm and together he and Jim propelled Sandburg into the living room.

Jim pushed Blair down onto the sofa, he could smell the burnt flesh. Asking Buck to help Blair with his boots, he went to the window facing the front yard. Jim stood to the side, pulling on his boots and studying the darkness outside. Under the large shade trees, he made out four men carrying rifles. Running quickly to the kitchen, he found three more in the back.

Buck finished with the boots and looked at Blair's hands. He sported burns on palms and fingers, mostly first degree, but some second.

A quick check of his mouth and nose revealed no burns to the face and it was unlikely that his lungs were damaged. His respirations were fast but not labored.

Blair blinked. "Uncle Buck?"

"You okay?"

Sandburg grimaced in pain, looking at his hands. "Owww."

Jim joined them from the back of the house. "We've got armed hostiles in front and back."

The sound of a crash from Buck's bedroom startled the three.

"Come on!"

"I need to get my gun!"

"No time! Your room is too far gone!"

Sure enough, Jim noticed the open doorway into their room was fully involved with fire.

Buck shoved the kitchen table against the back wall and lifted the rug from the floor. A large metal ring lay inset in the wood floor.

Cursing himself for not thinking clearly, Ellison pulled Blair to his feet and joined the older man who had a trap door opened. Buck reached out and snagged a canteen hanging by the back door on a long strap and a heavy flashlight from a kitchen drawer. They climbed down a wooden ladder to an earthen room. Closing the trap door above them, Jim watched as Buck turned on the flashlight and headed to a far corner.

"This way, grab hold." He led them to a door made out of heavy timber. It took both men to open the ancient door to reveal a tunnel. They formed a single line and moved into the passageway, the taller men having to crouch. "My grandfather built this during the Indian uprisings. It will take us out a couple hundred feet to an old smoke-house. We may be able to get up into the hills without being spotted."

"Jim..." Blair stumbled to his knees, using his hands to break his fall. "UUGGGHH!!"

"Shit, Chief. Hold up, Buck."

They lifted him back up to his feet. Jim saw the tears of pain cutting through the dirt on Sandburg's face. "Blair, breathe through the pain, buddy." He took both hands by the wrist and inspected the torn skin. The blisters were now ripped and the likelihood of infection was great. "Buck, give me the water."

He quickly cleaned out the dirt; the water temporarily easing the pain. Buck removed his outer shirt and began to rip long strips that Jim used to loosely wrap around the injured hands.

"Jim, what's happening?" Blair asked through clenched teeth.

"Seven men set fire to the house and waited outside with rifles. They probably would have picked us off if we had run out. Thank god Buck's house had an escape route. We're going to go underneath them and get out of here. You okay now?"

"I thought I was having a flashback from the golden, man. I almost wish I had been. My hands hurt, Jim."

"I know, we'll get you to a doctor, until then, you keep them clean, okay?" He finished his bandaging and used a spare piece of Buck's shirt to wipe the dirt and tears off the grad student's face.

"Yeah, clean." Blair looked around him in disbelief. "We're like in a scene from the `Great Escape', tunneling out of Germany and you want me to keep clean."

Jim grinned. Oh yeah, Blair was back.

The house was now fully engulfed in flames, capturing the attention of the armed men surrounding it. The three previous occupants slipped up into the desert hills without being noticed. Using the soft light from the crescent moon above and keeping the flashlight turned off in fear of being spotted by the men below, Jim and Blair followed Buck without question as he let them up towards the talus slope, the loose rocks that gather below the cliffs.

"Aww, Uncle Buck, the house, man.." Blair softly moaned, looking over his shoulder at the fire below. His hands hurt, but not as badly as his heart as he watched the home that he had loved since he was that twelve-year-old rebel burn to the ground.

"Is it possible someone will see the fire and call the fire department?" Jim asked. He laid a gentle hand on the younger man's back urging him to keep his eyes forward and to keep moving.

"Maybe. I doubt it, unless it starts a brush fire, but there's not enough wind for that to happen. The nearest engine is over fifty miles to the north, this land is served by the state DNR people." They had reached a faint animal trail, and continued on it to parallel below the cliff. "There is a break in the rimrock where we should be able to scramble over to the plateau above. We need to get off this slope before the sun comes up."

Soon the three hikers reached a spot in the cliff where water had run over the lip from above, breaking down the rock cliff enough to find hand holds to climb. Jim studied the climb then looked doubtfully at Blair.

Blair could almost read his thoughts. "Don't worry, man. I can do this!"

"It's not like we have much of a choice, Ellison," Buck explained calmly. "This is the only place possible to climb up in the amount of time we have. We can risk using the flashlight if we need to. I doubt they'll even notice."

"All right, I'll go first, then Blair, then you. But no light, I don't want to risk it."

Blair watched Jim start forward, reaching for his first hand hold. Soon he was more that ten feet up. With a deep breath, Blair followed. It looked like maybe fifty feet. That's roughly five stories. It's a flipping sky scraper! His hands began to complain painfully with each handhold. His arms began to tremble. Then he made the fatal mistake and looked down. Shit! He wasn't going to make it! He froze, pressed as close to the rock wall as possible and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Jim..."

"Just hold on Chief. Don't move!"

Blair opened his eyes and glanced upwards, Ellison was backtracking downward then he was alongside. With a maneuver that would have made Spiderman jealous, he swung directly behind the smaller man and pushed Blair against the cliff with his body, pinning him.

"I've got you. You're not going to fall."

Blair just nodded his head in agreement, his eyes closed and cheek pressed against the rock.

"Now listen, you've made it over half way. You hear me? It's only a few more feet, about the same as the stairs to my bedroom, that's child's play, right? We're just going to rest for a minute, then you're going to start up and I'll be right behind you. And you're not going to look down either, or I'll kick your butt all the way back to Cascade. I'll be right below you, so you wont fall, you got that?"

Blair let the soft words wash over him like soothing balm. Jim was nothing if not confident, it would never be a question of failure. Maybe it was an Ellison thing, or a Ranger thing or even a Cop thing, but Blair was certain about one thing - he could not let his Sentinel down. With a final nod he steeled himself to finish the climb.

"Kay. I'm ready"

They continued the painful climb in the near darkness. Then just before Blair was certain he could go no further, he realized the top was less than three feet away. He was going to make it!

"Blair, hold it! Don't move!"

Ellison scrambled up alongside and then finished the last few feet. Suddenly with a swift motion he swung his right arm up and over and then backwards with amazing speed. Something long and writhing arced out behind them to the rocky slope below.

"Okay, come on, Chief. You're almost here."

Blair moved and found his arms grasped as he neared the top and then he was off the cliff and laying on the hard surface of the plateau, panting through his mouth. A few seconds later, Buck was sitting next to him, catching his breath.

"Ellison, how did you know that rattler was there?"

Blair curled into a fetal position and stuffed a bandaged hand into his mouth to muffle his hysterical giggle that threatened to bubble out. Oh, my God! He nearly got bit in the face by a rattle snake AFTER climbing fifty feet up a cliff AFTER escaping a house fire AFTER ....

Large hands removed his bandage mitt from his teeth and he forced himself to relaxed. I'm calm. I AM calm. I am CALM. Yeah, this was working. He felt Jim pick up his other hand by the wrist and examine it as well. He realized that Buck was still waiting for an answer.

Blair sat up and crossed his legs Indian style. His loose hair was a mess, his sweat pants and T-shirt filthy from the fire, the tunnel and the climb up the face of the cliff.

"Jim has really good hearing, I could hear the rattler too, but it didn't register right away." The young man explained. "I read they can sense movement, it must have known we were climbing up from below and tried to warn us."

"I'm a sentinel."

Blair stared in dumb shock at his friend, who was becoming easier to see. Oh, yeah, Blair noted with clinical detachment, the sun was starting to rise.

"I thought so."

"I figured you had."

Blair sat between the two older men, frozen. It appeared the older men had nothing more to say. Finally, Blair found his voice. "Um, Jim, now that the cat is out of the bag, can you hear what's going on below?"

"You can hear that far?"

"Yeah." Ellison held up his right hand. "Quiet a sec." He tilted his head. "They found the tunnel in the smoke house. They think we got out and they're talking to someone on a radio."

"Let's move out. We've got too many miles to hike before we're out their reach," Buck stated, handing over a water bottle to Jim and standing. Blair let both men pull him up to his feet.

Jim removed the cap to the plastic bottle and held it out. Sandburg reached for it with his mitted hands only to have the cop pull it back.

"I'll hold it, you don't need to touch anything more with those hands."

Blair rolled his eyes and allowed Jim to pour a few swallows of water into his mouth. They moved out, following Buck again with out question. The sky to the east became brighter and moving across the dessert floor was easier as morning broke. Buck took them on a route that seemed to follow the cliff to their left. The direction was mostly north, but it became apparent that they would be working westward, towards the highway as soon as they could clear the cliffs of Dry Falls.

Almost an hour later the sun was well over the eastern horizon. The heat was beginning to climb. Ellison cast another worried glance around the surrounding landscape. He knew it was just a matter of time before they would be spotted, there was simply no place to hide on the plateau they were hiking across.

The other two men were holding up well, only slowing down long enough to take small sips of water. Jim mentally thanked the older man's presence of mind to hand them their hiking boots. Making this trek barefoot was not a pretty picture. He chastised himself again for forgetting his own gun. From now on, he was taking a piece with him everywhere he went!

A low hum grabbed his attention and he tracked it with his ears until he could pin point the location. Zooming in with his eyesight he made out a dust cloud several miles out.

"We've got company." He pointed to the north.

"What do we do, man! There's no where to hide out here!" Blair spun in a full circle desperately scanning the area.

"How much time to do you figure we have before they arrive?" Buck asked.

"Maybe 4 minutes, if they're on a road. More if they are going over land." Jim scrubbed his face with both hands. "We should split up, reduce the numbers."

Buck nodded his head in agreement. "Sounds good."

"Sandburg stays with me, we'll try and swing north-east, circle around and head back to the highway."

"Good luck." Without a backward glance, Buck started off at a fast trot.

"Come on, Chief. Pick up the pace."

As they ran, Jim watched as two topless 4-wheel drive jeeps approached. The first had 2 men and the second had three. They were indeed driving over land, slowing them down but they were still closing in. He watched the hunters split into two directions, the one jeep with 3 men heading for their location. They'd been spotted!

"Faster, Blair!"

If they could make another quarter of a mile, they had a chance to lose the vehicle in a series of gullies and hopefully deeper canyons caused by run off. He was just guessing, it was hard to read the lay of the land from this angle. Behind him, Jim could hear Blair's ragged breathing as he struggled to keep up. The sound of the jeep was loud enough for even a non-sentinel to hear. They were not going to make it.

"Split up!" Jim shouted over his shoulder and took the more exposed route, leaving the other direction for Sandburg.

The jeep slowed down and a man jumped out, running a course to intercept the younger man. Jim dived to the side as the jeep neared. He rolled and came up in a fighting stance, facing the hunters head on.

A heavyset man wearing an orange hunting cap sat in the passenger seat pointing a rifle at Jim.

"Hey, cowboy! Where do you think you're going?" the man called out cheerfully.

The other man motioned for Jim to walk over. Soon they had him secured, his hands bound behind his back with a short length of twine. A ten-foot section of heavy utility rope was looped around his chest, the other end tied to the bumper. The jeep made a sharp 180-degree turn and headed in the direction Blair had run. Still breathing hard, Jim had no choice but to run or be dragged.

As the jeep slowed down, Jim lifted his eyes from the ground. He could not risk tripping under the circumstances. He smiled as he saw a man lying on his face in the dirt.

"Son of a Bitch!" exclaimed orange cap, jumping out. "Al, where the hell is the other guy!" The man groaned as orange cap prodded him with the end of the rifle barrel.

"Retrieval one, this is retrieval two."

Orange cap unclipped a small two-way radio from his belt. "Go ahead."

"We got ours, how ya doing?"

"Half way there. We'll let you know when we're done here."

The man sprawled in the dirt moaned again and rolled over onto his back. Orange cap replaced the radio and pulled him to his feet.

"Where did he go!"

The man shook his head, a large purplish lump adorning the middle of his forehead. "Little shit hit me with a rock..." he mumbled, then turned and threw up.

"Great!" Orange cap exclaimed impatiently. He studied the sick man for a second in disgust and turned to climb onto the hood of the jeep.

There was really only one direction that Blair could have run in such a short time, Jim realized, and orange cap was staring hard in that direction. Low brush and possible gullies could make it possible for a man to hide from sight.

Blair's victim staggered over to the jeep, climbing unsteadily into the back seat without a glance at Ellison.

Orange cap raised a hand to cup his mouth "Listen, if you don't stand up right now and walk over to this jeep, I'm putting a slug in this guy's gut!"

"STAY PUT CHIEF!"

"Terry, shut him up," Orange cap ordered calmly.

The driver hoisted his large frame out of the seat and walked up to Jim, sinking a meaty fist into his stomach. Jim fell to his knees, gasping for breath, but unable to draw the required amount of air in.

"I'm going to count to three..." Orange cap called out. "ONE..."

"OKAY! Don't shoot, man!"

In a few seconds with his shoulders slouched in defeat, Blair appeared. Orange cap jumped off the hood and pointed the rifle towards him. "Keep coming, hold your hands out where I can see them. Just walk over there by your friend." He pulled the radio out again.

Blair complied and broke into a trot as he spotted his Jim on his knees. "Jim! You okay?" He dropped down next to the gasping cop.

Jim nodded, "Fine... you `kay...." He listened as orange cap informed the other party that both objects had been obtained.

"Sorry, I ran out of ideas, man. I couldn't let him shoot you."

Jim didn't take the effort to answer, his lungs were beginning to co-operate as his diaphragm stopped its spasms. Terry was approaching Blair with a piece of twine and a long coil of rope. Jim watched helplessly as Blair's arms were yanking behind his back and tied. The long rope was looped around his chest and secured to the bumper of the jeep, the extra coils tossed into the back seat.

"Stand up.. keep up with the jeep.. watch your feet.. don't fall down... " Leaning against the younger man, Jim got his feet underneath him and stood. Blair scrambled up to stand next to him. The three men were back in the jeep and Terry let the clutch pop causing a tread full of loose dirt and dust to be thrown up at the two prisoners.

The only thing that saved them from being dragged, was the roughness of the terrain. They jogged and occasionally ran behind the vehicle for almost 10 minutes before it stopped and Terry turned off the engine.

Jim leaned forward at the waist sucking air into his lungs, while Blair fell to his knees his sides heaving. They were both sweating heavily and covered with a layer of dust and grit from the jeep.

"Okay, boys, end of the road. You've led us on an entertaining chase, but we've got orders to follow," Orange cap announced cheerfully.

Jim could see the other jeep parked close to the edge of the cliff. Two men stood leaning against it, while Buck sat on the ground, hands tied in front of him at the wrist. He had dried blood pointing a line on the side of his face up to a small cut above his eye. His jeans and T-shirt were dirty from repeatedly falling.

"Well, look who we have here!" One of Buck's hunters walked over to Blair and cracked an ugly grin revealing yellow stained crooked teeth. He pointed towards Blair and laughed. "It's our little hitch hiker," he remarked to the other man that had retrieved Buck. "Maybe when this is done, we can have some fun. I'll have to hose him off first, though."

Blair ignored the man, concentrating on pulling air into his chest.

"You boys want to get to the point?" Buck asked calmly from his position on the ground.

Orange cap laughed and rubbed his hand briskly. "Right, business first. We've got your safe from the house, good thing you believe in buying fireproof safes, Stevens. Now you just give us the combination so we can get the deed and water rights, and we'll be on our way."

Buck looked up at the man, his eyes squinting in the bright morning sun. "What, so you can kill us after you get the papers? I don't think so."

Orange cap took two long strides over to Buck and lifted his foot back to swing it forward in a hard kick to Buck's side. Buck fell on to his back with a painful grunt.

"STOP IT!" Blair shouted, powering up to his feet.

Yellow teeth grabbed Blair from behind by the waist, pulling him back against his chest in a bear hug, almost lifting Sandburg off the ground. "Whoa, feisty little fella, ain't ya?"

Before he could move, Jim found the business end of a rifle pointed into his face. He could only watch as Blair struggled to free himself, kicking out with his feet and butting with the back of his head. Nothing Blair did seemed to break the big man's hold.

Orange cap walked over to his jeep and untied Blair's rope from the bumper, he retied it to the roll bar of the jeep but this time at the end of the long rope. Jim watched him make a round turn and two half hitches, then give it a sharp yank.

"Here's the deal, you given us the combination, and we'll agree to pull your nephew up, sound good?" Orange cap asked with a grin. He nodded to yellow teeth, who dragged Blair to the edge of the cliff.

"NO! NO, man!" Blair doubled his attempts to free himself. Yellow teeth reached the edge, holding him by both shoulders.

A low growl erupted from Jim's throat, causing his guard to step back in alarm. Buck righted himself again to his knees with a shout. "Don't!"

Yellow teeth gave a shove with both hands. Jim knew then that he was going to kill that man with his bare hands.

Blair stood at the edge of the cliff and noted the small lake hundreds of feet below, the western edge of the water sparkling in the morning sun, the rest of the lake still in shadows. It looked like a puddle from up here. Blair's mind split into two separate entities. Part watching this whole scene as if he were sitting on the sofa in the loft with Jim beside him, both watching this on the TV. The other part was screaming in terror. Blair wasn't sure which half of his brain to listen to.

Then a strong shove sent him out into open space. He noted that the calm half was reasoning, `this must be what it felt like for that rattlesnake'.

But the other half, the one that had been terrified of heights for as long as he could remember, grew until it filled his head, his neck and down every limb. His scream ripped out, sending dozens of cliff swallows into the sky from their nests built of mud and straw adorning the face of the cliff.

He couldn't remember if he was supposed to stay loose or curl into a ball. Before the issue could be resolved, his free fall was ended abruptly with a snap to his spine that cut off his scream prematurely.

The rope held him and he swung like a large pendulum, smashing into the side of the cliff. But the cliff was undercut and he swung back into space before he could think through the pain. Hoping to swing back into the wall so he could hold on with his feet, he sobbed seeing there was nothing to even try to grab. Where was the sturdy tree that always grows out of the cliff for the hero to hang on to?

His fear began to grow, take form like a living, breathing creature. He could not seem to take his eyes off the landscape below his dangling hiking boots.

Then, his fear consumed him like a large bird of prey and Blair was the frozen field mouse as it swooped down and had clenched its talons around his throat.

Buck watched his `nephew' disappear. Ellison was still making animal sounds. He listened to Blair's scream and winced when it was sharply cut off.

"You son of a bitch!" Jim shouted.

Orange cap ignored Ellison and pointed to the back of the jeep that had been used to chase down Buck. A black box was sitting in the back seat, his safe.

"Give me the combination and we'll pull him back up."

"Pull him back up first!" Buck spat out, his anger making him shake.

"No deals, Stevens. I want that paperwork!"

Buck considered his options. Yellow teeth stood close to the cliff's edge watching Blair, orange cap was nearby, the other two standing by Ellison.

"14 right..8 left..29 right."

Orange cap leaned over the side of the jeep and started spinning the dial. Buck shared a knowing glance at Jim, as soon as the safe was opened all of their lives would be finished.

With a happy exclamation, orange cap opened the small door to the safe and reached inside pulling out a handful of papers and a small book. He glanced at the book, realizing it just had photos, he tossed it away impatiently. Flipping through the papers slowly, he became more desperate in his search.

"Where is it!" He threw the papers down in anger. "Its not here! Where the hell is it!"

"I never said it WAS in the safe, you horse's ass!" Buck yelled. He sprang to his feet with a grace that belied his age, throwing a hand full of dirt directly into orange cap's eyes. With lightening fast speed Buck relieved the blinded man of his rifle. Using the butt end as a ram, he drove it into the side of the man's head just above his ear. He dropped, unconscious before he hit the dirt.

Jim moved at the same instant, bringing a knee up hard between his guard's legs, felling him like a tree. A quick kick to the head and the man lay still. Jim fell to the ground and rolled up high onto his back, swinging his arms around his butt and curled legs to get them in front.

Buck cradled his stolen rifle awkwardly and aimed at Terry as he was coming around from the driver's seat towards Jim. The large man was thrown back against the hood of the jeep as the bullet hit him high in the back.

Ellison reached into the back of the jeep and pulled out an x shaped tire iron. With an accuracy borne of desperation he put all his strength into throwing it like a Frisbee. The heavy metal tool hit yellow teeth low in the back of the skull, right above the neck. Jim watched with pleasure as he fell towards the cliff unconscious and disappeared.

Jim snatched the second rifle from the man at his feet and checked the jeep for something to cut his bindings with.

By the time Buck joined him, Jim located a hunting knife and was busy attacking his ropes.

"What about the guy in the jeep?" Buck asked, as Jim used the knife on Buck's bindings.

"He's out cold. Blair got him before he was captured. Let's get these scumbags secured and pull him up."

Using the same rope that had tied Jim earlier to the jeep, they quickly bound the men. Jim ran to the edge of the cliff, dropped to his knees and peered over the edge. Buck joined him a second later.

"Oh, God," Jim muttered. Blair was still, his face white from shock. His eyes stared unseeing into space. Jim zoomed in on the bright blood staining his cotton shirt.

"Let's get him up," Buck grimly replied.

Hand over hand; they pulled. After slow torturous moments, Jim was able to reach out and get a good grip under Blair's arms. With a heave, he pulled the young man over the lip and back onto the plateau.

Taking Blair's arms and legs, Buck and Jim lifted, carrying Blair to the shade of the far jeep. Buck eased down to sit with his back leaning against the rear tire, and pulled Blair to lean against him, concerned as Blair's head lolled onto his shoulder. There was absolutely no response from man. Jim ran to the jeep and retrieved the knife, cutting the young man free. Lifting the T-shirt that now had a ring of blood seeping through, he examined the ripped and bruised skin under the arms and on his back, avulsed from the force of the rope cutting into his skin.

Jim closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a second, mentally reminding himself that he was a police officer and that he would have to arrest himself if he were to walk over and shoot the surviving men in the head. He lowered the shirt carefully and stared into Blair's face.

"Hey, buddy. Can you talk to me?" Jim softly asked, tapping Blair's cheek lightly with his fingers. No response. No change. "Blair? Come on, kid. Your sentinel is contemplating multiple murders here. I need you to talk me out of it, okay?"

Buck smiled at the black humor coming from the ex-ranger. He cradled Blair to his chest. "Jim, go check for a cell phone and get help. I'll work with the kid." Jim nodded, his desire torn between caring for Blair and getting help for him.

He stood, went to the cliff to retrieve the rifles they had left there. He laid one rifle next to Buck and went to pat down the men on the ground. He found nothing of use on orange cap or John. He went to check the man Buck had shot. He was dead. Good. Moving to the jeep, his search ended when he opened the glove box. He flipped open the small phone and called 911.

Tersely he explained to the Washington State Patrol dispatcher who he was, their location and what he required. With that job accomplished he double-checked the ropes that bound the 3 men. They were not going anywhere. Spotting a canteen in the jeep, he sniffed its contents and returned to squat next to his friends.

"..know how I feel about causing this old man to worry, runt. So I'm telling you right now to come back to reality. I know how you hate heights. But I also know how strong you are, kid. I've seen you take on more than this little incident and come out smiling." Buck was slowly rocking Blair, the long-haired head was resting on the older man's shoulder. Blair's eyes were still unfocused but it appeared to Jim that a part of Blair was listening. Buck acknowledged Jim with a slight nod, but did not stop the soft soothing words. "And if you don't start talking to us, I'm gonna have to resort to drastic measures here. The photo album that `horse-dung-for-brains' tossed on the ground over there is full of pictures of you. I'd have to show those to your roommate. I understand you work with him and he'd more than likely show them to all his fellow cops. I think the one with you and the lovesick cow would be good for weeks of humiliation, don't you?"

Jim watched Blair slowly blink. Large tears began to run down his cheeks. A hitch in his shallow breaths caused Buck to clutch him a little tighter. "I know, kid. It's all right now. We're going to be fine here."

"...cul b'ck." Blair closed his eyes and turned his face into Buck's neck.

Jim breathed a big sigh of relief as Blair began to sob. Shit, seeing Blair so unresponsive scared the cop more than he was willing to admit. Buck smiled and quieted, letting his `nephew' soak his collar with tears. Blair's breathing became deeper. His skin no longer had the sickly white color he had first observed.

"Welcome back, runt. Jim tells me you took out one of these yahoos by yourself. Just taking out the garbage, huh, kid?"

Blair worked to get his emotions under control. Jim knelt close and held up the canteen. "Chief, you want to try a little water?"

Looking slightly ashamed, Blair rolled his head back onto his `Uncle's' shoulder and faintly nodded faintly.

"Okay, just a sip for now, got it?" Jim tilted the opening up, letting a mouthful of warm water pour in.

Buck freed his left arm and reached for the water. "Don't mind if I do." He took a drink and handed it back.

"WSP are on the way. They're sending troopers from Coulee City and Euphrata. We should be seeing help soon." Jim settled down next to the two. Blair seemed content to stay right were he was. Jim noticed that Buck was not making any moves to change his position either. He grinned at his roommate. "Hey, Sandburg. How ya doing?"

Blair wiped his face with the backs of his bandaged hands. "..hurt's when... I breathe in.. too much." He looked around. "How'd you..."

Jim shrugged his large shoulders modestly. "Well, Buck here tried to impress me with some slick Navy Seal move, and I'm never one to turn down a challenge, so I showed him how the Rangers complete a mission."

Blair gave a weak snort. "More water?"

Jim held up the canteen again. "Small sips."

State troopers and local County police took the three men into custody. Jim and Buck insisted that the first on-scene ambulance transport Blair to the hospital in Coulee City. When the local EMT started to throw his weight around, Ellison told him in no uncertain terms that if he wanted to talk about triage, Jim would give him one more patient to worry about. The EMT took the hint and gave the nod to the private ambulance to load up Sandburg. They were expecting to airlift one of the head injuries to Spokane anyway. The other could wait another five minutes for the second ambulance.

It was decided that Jim would ride to the hospital with Blair. Buck would remain on the scene with the troopers then escort them down to his burned out home before joining them.

Ninety minutes later, Blair was rolled into trauma room one. His t-shirt was cut off with clumsy looking scissors. His makeshift bandages were removed from both hands. Jim answered questions about past medical history and known allergies.

Sandburg silently endured the examination by an elderly white-hair doctor with a mustard stain on his coat front. Lung sounds were checked, pulse and blood pressure recorded. A small clip attached to a black cord was carefully placed on one finger. Jim watched, thankful that he had been allowed to stay during the exam. An I.V. was started with a morphine injection that caused the young man to slide into a happy state of being and made his body do an imitation of a boneless chicken.

A nurse covered him with a light sheet and they rolled Blair, bed and all, into another room for chest x-rays, leaving Jim behind in the hallway. A nurse appeared at his elbow with a large cup of black coffee and a friendly smile.

"Thank you," he said with a tired grin, taking the cup and enjoying a sip. "Is there a phone I could use? It's long distance, but I'll charge it to my home number."

"Sure, over there." She pointed a painted fingernail toward a counter tucked away in the corner. A wall of patient charts framed each side of the counter.

He held up the coffee. "Thanks again."

She smiled. "No problem, did I hear you say you're a police detective?"

"Yes, from Cascade."

She pointed town down the hallway. "There's a doctor's lounge, third door on the left. Your friend is going to be while in x-ray. You can use the lounge to clean up if you'd like."

Jim's grateful smile could have lit up the entire town of Coulee City. "You are an angel. Thank you."

Simon picked up on the first ring. Jim felt a stab of homesickness as he heard the familiar sound of his boss barking his name into the phone.

"Uh, Simon."

The tone on the other end became friendly. He could imagine Simon removing his glasses and picking up his coffee to take a drink.

"Jim! How's the fishing? Blair driving you crazy yet? Remember I'm not able to help you hide the body this time."

"We've had a situation here, Sir."

"Oh, shit! Are you two okay?" The levity was replaced with concern.

"Blair's in the hospital, he's in x-ray now. Simon, his hands are burned. Those bastards tied him up with a rope and threw him off a cliff," Jim growled into the phone. Just reciting the events of the last twelve hours made him furious.

"Jim! Calm down, where are you now? Which hospital? How many bodies are we talking about?"

"I'm calm," he spat into the handset. He stopped, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Sorry, we're at Coulee City hospital. And only two bodies, three more with head injures, I don't know their status right now."

"My God! You're serious, aren't you?"

Jim gave him the abbreviated, readers' digest version of what had occurred. He shared his suspicions as to who was behind the arson and the attempts on their lives.

"I need a favor, sir." He looked around; no one was paying attention to the tall stranger in the filthy clothes. He pulled the small phone out of his sweat pant's pocket. Hitting the power button, he found the menu and scrolled to last numbers dialed. "I've been too busy with Blair to hand in some evidence, a cell phone. As soon as the locals arrive, I will. But just in case something should happen before then, write down these phone numbers, okay?"

He read ten separate phone numbers out loud.

"Jim, don't do anything stupid. I am expecting you to turn that cell phone over ASAP, you got that, detective?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay then, meanwhile, I think I'll call up a friend of mine that works with the phone company. I've been meaning to invite him over for a beer."

"Thanks, Simon."

"Call me the minute you know more about the kid."

"I will."

He located the doctor's lounge and was working on getting the grime off his face and neck when he heard his partner being wheeled back into the treatment room. Giving his face one last pass with the small cloth, he grabbed a hand towel from the stack on a low shelf and dried off quickly. Tossing the soiled items in a bin marked for used laundry he was out the door and back in the treatment room.

"Good news, detective. Mr. Sandburg does not have any injuries to his ribs," the doctor reported with a smile. "We're going to finish treating his burns and suture his sides and back, then we'll talk about medication."

Jim smiled in relief. He checked on Blair's condition. They had dressed him in a gown that opened in the back.

"Hey, Chief. How are you doing?"

"Hi, Jim." He raised a burned hand in a wave. "Have you met Nurse Cooper, man? She went to Rainier too!"

Jim smiled at the same nurse that had brought him coffee. "I sure did. I may have to ask for her hand in marriage if she keeps spoiling me."

Blair laughed as the doctor and the nurse in question sat him up on the rolling bed. "Hey! No fair! I saw her first." He leaned over to the nurse as the doctor untied his gown. "You don't want him. He's a total neat freak! He alphabetized his cans of food. HEY!" Blair jerked away from the doctor who was inspecting his back, almost falling off the bed. Jim moved in close and steadied the patient.

"Sorry, Mr. Sandburg. Just checking. I think we'll give you something to numb you."

Blair's good mode vanished. He leaned forward, resting his head on Jim's dirty T-shirt. Jim could feel the tremors running through the slight frame. He rubbed Blair's shoulders a few seconds then lightly brushed his hands up and down his upper arms. Jim checked the clock on the wall; Blair's pain meds were beginning to wear off.

"Just a bit more, Darwin," he said softly to his friend. Blair nodded, sitting up straighter and give Jim a tired smile. "I talked to Simon just now."

"Yeah?"

"He's worried about you."

Blair lightly snorted in disbelief. "He just wants a chance to .....ow!.... win that twenty back."

"Just a few more, Mr. Sandburg."

"Jim, where's Uncle Buck?"

"With the county deputies and troopers. He'll be here soon. Here comes another shot."

This time Blair stayed silent, but winced in pain as the shot was given. He looked up at Jim, his face still dirty, his hair a mess with small sticks and dried grass clinging to the long strands. "You okay?"

Jim smiled and shook his head. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"I'm not staying here, am I?"

Jim met the doctor's eyes over the top of the patient's head. The doctor shook his head and went back to his task. "No, we'll just get you patched up and meet up with Buck. Just let us take care of everything for now, okay?"

Blair sighed and nodded.

Buck followed the county deputy into the ER. He was tired, hungry and sporting a headache the size of a battleship. He found Ellison helping Blair off an exam table as the two men entered. Blair was dressed in his dirty sweat pants and a green colored `scrub' top. Both of Blair's hands were swathed in white gauze. His right hand was bandaged to the fingertips, his left hand's thumb and fingers exposed to the second knuckles.

"You two okay?" Waiting for the two to nod, Buck pointed to the uniformed cop. "This deputy wants to take your statements. I'm going to make a few phone calls and I'll meet you back here."

The deputy requested a quiet room to interview the pair and Jim found himself sitting on a comfortable sofa back in the doctor's lounge. Blair sat next to him, shifting stiffly to get comfortable. The deputy was a soft-spoken man with an easy attitude. He treated Ellison as a brother in uniform and threw a lot of sympathetic glances at Blair when their story was told.

"How is the man that I hit with the rock?" Blair asked timidly.

The cop tucked his notepad and pen away in his breast pocket. "Well, if I've got my bad guys in order. Your guy has a concussion, but I'm told he's going to be okay. You know the guy that was shot is dead. And we recovered the other from under the cliff, obviously dead." The deputy paused and took a drink of coffee that Nurse Cooper had delivered. "The guy that Stevens hit was airlifted to Spokane, he doesn't look so good. The last guy is going to pull through, but it'll be a while before his momma recognizes him again."

Jim nodded. "Any idea who those guys where or who they worked for?"

"We're still checking I.D.'s and getting data together."

"Speaking of which..." Jim reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone. "I took this out of the glove box in one of the jeeps. You may want to check the last numbers dialed."

The deputy took the cell phone and nodded. "We'll get right on it. Now I suggest you take your partner there somewhere he can rest, before he falls down."

Jim grinned and carefully propped Blair back up on the sofa. "Okay, Rip Van Winkle, let's find Buck."

They met up with the older man in the hallway. Sandburg was running out of steam. All three men were hungry, dirty and aching to rest. Jim realized they had no vehicle, identification or money. They only had the clothes on their backs and the antibiotics and pain mediation that the doctor had given Blair.

"Jim!" Simon Banks strode down the hallway, towering over the nurses and orderlies that hastened to get out of his way.

Jim was never so relieved to see the caption as he was right that moment. "Simon, how did you get here?"

"I've got a friend with a private plane, he owed me a favor." He reached Jim's side and clapped a large hand on his shoulder, ignoring the small cloud of dust it caused. "You two okay? Doctor's finish checking you out?" He gave both his friends a head to toe inspection.

"Hey, Simon," Blair greeted weakly. Pointing to the fourth member of the reunion. "This is my Uncle Buck."

Simon reached out and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, sorry to hear about your loss."

Buck shrugged, "I saved the most important things, I can always rebuild."

Simon clapped his hands together. "Okay then, I've got a rental car out front, made reservations at the Comfy Inn and brought you all a change of clothes. What do we do first?"

Blair was the first to find his voice out of the three shell-shocked men. "Wow! Simon, you are incredible!"

"No, Sandburg. I'm the captain."

The Comfy Inn was a clean two-story motel shaped in a `u'. Each unit had a door to the parking lot. Banks had reserved a suite with a small kitchen and two bedrooms on the ground floor. Simon tossed his bag on one of the twin beds in the first room. He had taken a chance that Buck could fit into some of his clothes and packed enough for both of them. The other room had a single king-size bed. Jim set a large duffle bag that Simon had packed for them at the loft on the dresser. The living area smelled clean and fresh, there was room for a sofa, upholstered chair and a tv. The four men sat at the small round table in the kitchenette as Simon distributed meals he had purchased from a McDonald's next to the motel. Jim took Blair's chicken sandwich and cut it into bite size squares.

Biting into his hamburger with a look of bliss, Jim reached with his left hand for a handful of hot fries as he chewed.

`I got the info on those phone numbers," Simon began, opening his own sandwich and pulling off the top bun to check his condiments.

"I'm willing to bet one of the last numbers belonged to Tri-State," Blair challenged as he picked up a piece of his sandwich with the exposed fingers of his left hand.

Simon nodded, sipping his diet coke. "No way I'm betting with you again, Sandburg. But you're right. The last number was to Tri-State Orchard's main number."

Jim shook his head. "It's not enough, sir. Two of those guys worked for Tri-State. We'll need more to get a D.A. to file charges against the ones responsible. Those guys were just lackeys."

"Well, I'm still waiting on word about Tri-State," Simon admitted, stealing fries from the pile in the middle of the table.

"I checked with my lawyer, he's still sure that Tri-State has no case," Buck announced, his eyes flashing in anger.

Simon glanced over at Sandburg.

"Jim," Banks said softly, nodding his head towards Blair. The younger man was sitting chewing slowly, eyes at half mask.

The needle sat firmly on empty. The kid had run out of gas. Jim fished out the bottles of pills that the doctor had given him. Shaking out a pain pill he slid it over to his dazed friend.

"Swallow the pill, Sandburg. Finish your sandwich and I'll let you pick which side of the bed you get to sleep in."

Blair sat up and frowned. "I'm not taking those, man."

"Yes, you are," Buck stated firmly. "Just because `old Guss' went up in smoke, doesn't mean I can't find a substitute."

Blair snatched up the pill and popped it into his mouth; leaning forward and taking a long pull on his straw. Jim watched him resume eating his meal in silence.

Simon cleared this throat, "I'd like to talk to the officer in charge of the investigation, see if he'd share the details of what they found as a courtesy. Maybe Cascade's lab's can help in some way. I know these counties have a small budget."

"Good idea," Jim agreed.

Buck finished his meal and carefully wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I need to place an order to start rebuilding. My insurance company said they'd have enough deposited in my bank by tomorrow to get started."

"How'd the house look?" Blair asked.

"Not too bad. Roof is gone, but the stonewalls are standing. I think I can get a building back up without too much trouble." He leaned over and patted Blair's arm. "It will look even better than before, runt."

Blair smiled.

"I'm pretty handy with a hammer, Buck," Jim offered.

"Ellison, I could hammer circles around you any day," Simon added.

Buck shook his head. "You guys were supposed to be on a vacation, remember?"

Simon snorted. "Buck, Ellison doesn't know what a vacation is!"

Jim carefully pulled the clean T-shirt over the bandages wrapped around Blair's torso. He lifted the blankets to let the pain medicated man crawl into the large bed, then pulled them up to cover his shoulders.

"Man, Simon is so cool to come out and bring us our stuff and all," Blair mumbled around a yawn.

"He's a good friend," Jim agreed. "I'm going to wake you in five hours for your antibiotic. Depending on how you feel then, you may want another pain pill."

"Kay," Blair answered with his eyes shut. He rolled over to his side with a slight grimace, towards Jim.

"You okay?" Ellison asked, concerned.

"Hurts .. on my back. Better this way," Blair replied softly, almost asleep.

Jim rearranged the light blanket to his satisfaction. "Blair.... Tell me about `old Guss'."

"No.. way.. man."

Jim grinned. It was worth a shot.

At ten p.m. Jim woke Blair enough to get him to take his antibiotic with some juice. Blair shook his head when asked if he was in pain. Jim let him settle back down on his side, instantly falling back to sleep.

Simon and Buck had already retired. Jim lay down in the large bed and listened to the steady breathing next to him. He let the events of the day replay in his mind. He would never forget the sight of Blair at the end of the rope or the blank look on his face when they pulled him up. His hand went to his back-up automatic under his pillow that Simon had brought him from the loft. He vowed to keep it within reach at all times.

Some time later, Jim woke to an odd sound. He let his senses play out; Simon and Buck were softly snoring in the room next to theirs. He focused closer, to Blair. The sound came again, a kind of choking gasp this time accompanied by a shudder.

"Blair?" he rose up on one arm and leaned over the other man. Blair was still asleep judging by the rapid eye movement. His face was wrinkled in a frown, his bandaged hands reaching for his neck. Jim gently shook his shoulder, "Wait up, kid. You're dreaming."

".....no.....snake...."

A harder shake. Blue eyes opened in fear. Jim turned away and clicked on the small lamp next to the bed. He returned to Blair's side.

"It was just a dream, you're okay now."

"Oh, man." Blair rolled on to his back, and then quickly continued to roll towards Jim with a hiss of pain.

"I'm getting you some crackers. You need to take a pain pill." Jim rolled off the bed and padded barefoot into the kitchenette. Simon and Buck had gone out that evening while Blair had slept and picked up juice, straws, crackers, cigars, disposable razors, miscellaneous toiletry items, donuts and coffee. He located the crackers, poured a glass of apple juice and returned silently to the room. Walking around to Sandburg's side of the bed, he set the items down on the bed stand.

"Here, sit up a second."

With help, Blair sat up and scooted back to lean against the headboard. His face was pinched in pain. Jim regretted his decision earlier not to give him the pain medication. He sat on the edge of the bed by Blair's knees.

"This sucks, Jim."

"Eat these. Try not to get crumbs on the bed, junior."

After two crackers had been consumed, Jim held out a pain pill and juice glass. Blair took the small pill without complaint and sipped through the straw.

"I was dreaming I was in the ice age," Blair explained after finishing his juice. "The wind caused by the coming flood was awesome. The ground was shaking. Man, the noise was deafening." He yawned.

"What about the snake?" Jim asked quietly, setting the empty glass back on the nightstand.

Blair snorted softly, "Yeah, me and the snake. When the water hit us, we both got swept over the cliff..." He grimaced in pain. "Couldn't breathe, it was awful."

"Lay back down. The pill will kick in soon."

"I hate taking them." He shifted down, letting Jim ease him onto his side, his burned hands unable to support him.

"I know, but it allows your body to rest and speeds up your recovery," Jim explained as he re-arranged the blanket. He stood and circled the end of the bed, turning off the lamp and getting back under the covers again. "I think once the pain stops your bad dreams will end."

No response. Jim continued to listen as Blair's respiration's evened out. In the dark, he watched the frown on his face relax. Jim took his hand and laid it feather light on the sleeping man's forehead, no fever, no infection. Finally he let himself fall back asleep.

The next time his eyes opened, sunlight was fighting to get through the heavy drapes in the room. Jim heard movement from the kitchenette. Simon and Buck were up. Easing off the bed slowly, so as not to wake Blair, Jim grabbed some clothing for the day out of the duffel bag and headed for the shower.

Exactly fifteen minutes later he emerged energized and clean-shaven. Simon had a fresh cup of black coffee sitting by the opened box of glazed donuts.

"How'd you two sleep?" Simon asked, looking up from reading the local morning paper.

"Sandburg woke about three am from pain and a nightmare. He took a pain pill and settled back to sleep." He found the temperature of the coffee perfect and took a drink, ah, heaven in a cup! Sitting at the table, he snagged a donut with his other hand. He was struck again by the impact of everything his captain was doing for them. "Simon, keep a tab of what Blair and I owe you. I'll pay you when we get back."

Buck waved his hand carelessly from the sofa, "Already discussed it, my insurance is taking care of reimbursing Simon." He went back to writing a list on the motel stationary.

"I'm not going to worry about it," Simon commented without looking up from the paper. "You've got a nice write up in the paper this morning." He folded a section of newsprint and slid it over to Jim, keeping the sports page to read.

Ellison read quickly. There was nothing new, just a nice picture of the burned out house. The barn was still standing; thankfully it had not burned. Authorities had ruled it arson and briefly mentioned that several suspects were in custody. Overall, the story was less than revealing. Jim was surprised that they didn't turn it into the normal media circus that he would have expected back home.

After another hour of discussion and coffee, the three men had a plan of action for the day. Simon would drop off Buck in town to make arrangements to have his Landcruiser towed back from his place and repaired. The thugs had gotten under the hood, ripping out wires and hoses before starting the fire. Then he could walk over to the building supply store and talk to the manager about his large order.

Simon had plans to talk with the Sheriff's office, in hopes for an unofficial involvement in the investigation. An old academy buddy of Joel Taggart's was now a Lieutenant with Grant County Sheriff's office and he hoped to build an alliance based on that tie. It pays to network.

Jim's task for that morning was simple. He got Blair.

Jim was standing by the bed as Blair groaned and looked around with unfocused eyes. His cheek was creased from sleep, his hair looking like a bird's nest waiting for occupants.

"Oh man, why do I feel worse!" he complained as Jim tossed back his covers.

"It's always the worst on the second day."

Blair let the large man lever him off the mattress and on to his feet. He was able to make the bathroom under his own steam, walking stiffly like a robot. Exiting the bathroom, Blair sat at the table with a dour look. Jim had a glass of juice with a straw, a blueberry muffin and his antibiotics sitting on a paper napkin. The muffin had been neatly cubed into bite size pieces.

"Where is everyone?"

"Buck is getting supplies and Simon went in to the sheriff's office."

"You got stuck baby-sitting me, huh?" Blair grumbled.

"No," Jim said patiently. "There's just nothing else for me to do right now. Take your medication. You'll feel better after you eat something."

The younger man glared at the pills.

"It's just the antibiotics, Chief. No pain pill."

"Fine." He picked it up clumsily with his left hand. "I'm not taking the pain pill today, I can't think straight with that crap in my system." Jim was surprised he couldn't see a dark cloud over the other man's head like you see in the cartoons. Blair had never been a morning person, and the last two mornings had not been something to cheer about.

"I need a shower." This came after four cubes of muffin had been consumed.

"I think we can manage a bath."

"Dammit, I feel so frigging helpless!" Blair blurted out in frustration.

"Does someone need a nap?" Jim asked gently with a small grin.

The results were not what he expected. "It's NOT funny, man!" Blair stood up abruptly, wincing in pain.

Jim held both hands out in a form of surrender. "I'm sorry, Chief. Just calm down for me, okay?" He watched as Blair returned to his seat, expression still dark. "I'm just trying to bring a little humor into the situation here."

Blair took a deep breath and rotated his head on his neck. "Sorry, man. I guess I'm a little pissy. I shouldn't be jumping down your throat."

"Anger is normal, considering the circumstances, Sandburg." Standing, he held his right arm in front of his chest as if he had a tea towel draped over it. With a fake `butler' voice he deadpanned, "If the master does not require anything else, I will draw the bath."

"Smart Ass," Blair retorted, trying to hold back a grin from escaping.

Simon had thoughtfully gotten an ADA approved suite. The bathroom was large and outfitted to accommodate a person with a physical disability. The tub-shower had a hand held showerhead on a flexible hose. Jim filled the tub with about six inches of warm water and set out the soap and washcloth. Blair arrived with a look of apprehension.

"I hate that you have to bath me, man."

"Why?" Jim asked nonchalantly. "You telling me that if the roles were reversed here, you wouldn't help me?"

Blair stiffened in indignation. "Of course I would! Sheeze, Jim! What kind of friend to you think I am?!"

Jim calmly met the flashing blue eyes of his roommate. "Then what's the problem here, Einstein?"

Blair's anger evaporated, he shook his head. "I guess I walked right into that one." The first genuine smile of the morning appeared like a rainbow after the storm. "You finished hitting me over the head with the clue stick?"

Jim struck a superior stance. "Can't help it, I'm good!"

Jim's humor evaporated as he got his first look at the dark bruises coloring Blair's left side. Blair missed the murderous glare due to the T-shirt being pulled over his head at the time. Ellison had his emotions back under control by the time Sandburg was freed from the garment and stepping out of his boxers. With strong hands supporting his upper arms, Blair was lowered into to the bath, and Jim got to work washing, being careful to keep the gauze wrap wound high on his torso from getting wet.

"What about my hair, Jim?"

"We can use the kitchen sink." Jim didn't pause from his task.

Blair must have sensed his friend's mood swing, he remained silent as Jim worked.

Simon and Buck returned to the suite, both with packages under their arms. Jim had just finished rinsing Blair's hair with a cream rinse. He was combing it out with a pick while Blair sat looking at the newspaper.

"You look better than the last time I saw you," Buck commented. The young man was dressed in jeans and a clean shirt, his face shaved and pink from scrubbing.

"He smells better too," Jim added.

Blair waved a graceful hand. "Quiet, Slave! Finish my hair." He rolled his eyes, staying in character. "It's ssssooo hard to get competent help nowadays!" He eyed the familiar looking object under Simon's left arm. "What's that?"

Simon set it down with a flourish before him. "Laptop computer - WITH Internet abilities. Compliments of the Grant County sheriff's office."

"Cool!" Blair sat up straighter in his chair. "Let me see! Open it up!"

Simon opened the lid and ran a power and phone cable to the nearby wall plugs. The suite had connections set up for business travelers complete with internet hookup that did not tie up the normal phone lines. "I have some information on Tri-States, but not enough. I told Daily we had a computer expert that may be able to trace the true owners of the corporation. So he loaned his laptop."

Jim finished combing and frowned at the computer. "Blair shouldn't be using his hands yet, Simon."

"Chill, Jim. It's got a touch pad, see?" Blair pointed his bandaged mitt toward the base of the keyboard. "I'll cut and paste as much as I can."

Simon handed over a small computer disk. "This is everything we have so far on Tri-State. I had Brown email it to Daily and he copied the files."

Jim still looked skeptical, but remained quiet remembering Blair's earlier temper display. Maybe this was just what the kid needed to feel involved.

"What's new with the men that attacked us?" Jim inquired.

Buck came back from his room where he had taken large bags marked with the local clothing store logo. "The guy wearing the orange cap died last night," he commented without remorse. "Blair's guy and the fellow you took out are alive, but neither know much."

"Figures, I made the orange cap guy as the leader of the group," Jim grumbled.

"Well, they claimed they were hired to find and scare you. They deny being the ones to start the fire, naturally - Its easier to blame the ones who can't answer for themselves," Simon added as he watched Blair get on line and access the files. "I'm thinking we could get some lunch. Then if Jim's up to it, he can go with Buck out to his place and look around. Blair and I can continue to research Tri-State's from here," Simon offered to the group.

"Let's go out for lunch," Blair suggested. `I need some fresh air."

Blair and Jim sat side-by-side under the umbrella at small hamburger stand that claimed to have the best onion rings in town. The other two men placed the orders and carried the food back. Jim chewed his bacon burger with pleasure, noting that Blair was too occupied with his awkward task of eating chicken strips and fries to give the cop his normal lecture on animal fat. Besides, the kid had even requested a blackberry milkshake!

"Hey guys, look! It's Nurse Cooper." Blair pointed at the red Corvette that pulled into the parking lot of the small restaurant.

Sure enough, the pretty blonde getting out of the car walked over with a big smile. "You guys look a lot better today! How are you feeling, Mr. Sandburg?" She untied the scarf from her head, protecting her shoulder length hair.

"Great, please call me Blair."

"Okay, you guys have to call me Nancy." The smile brightened.

Blair made the introductions around the table and invited her to join them.

"Oh, I can't. I called in an order for my fianc and me. I'm meeting him in a few minutes." She gave the group of men a bright smile. "I read about the fire today, I'm so sorry for your loss, she told Buck. "Did you all find a place to stay?"

Buck nodded, "We're at the Comfy Inn right now. I've already contacted my insurance company and started plans to rebuild."

"That's great. I'd better get my order and run. Maybe I'll see you around town again." She picked up her order at the take-out window. One last wave to the group and she was gone.

Simon laughed at the crestfallen look on Blair's face. "Tough luck, Sandburg. Those long distance romances are complicated, maybe it's better this way."

"I don't know Simon, having Blair date a nurse sound like good preventative maintenance to me," Jim added finishing his meal and crumpling up his paper wrapper.

"Ha Ha, laugh it up guys,"

They made plans to drop Simon and Blair off at the motel, then Jim and Buck would continue out to Dry Falls.

"We'll be back after dinner, sir. Blair needs to take his medication with food, no later than 8pm. Make sure he keeps his bandages dry and watch he doesn't overdo it," Jim instructed as Simon started to get out of the back seat. Blair was already out and saying goodbye to Buck.

"I can handle it Jim. We'll be fine. I'll make sure he gets food, pills and rest," Simon stated firmly.

Blair bent over and spoke to Jim from the open door. "Bye Jim. Try not to get into any trouble. Simon and I won't wait dinner for you guys."

Jim pointed a stern finger at his roommate. "Don't overdo it, Sandburg."

Blair made pushing motions with his bandaged hands. "Shoo, already, man. You are such a worrier!"

Once in the suite, Sandburg got his second wind. He kicked off his boots and placed a soft pillow in the kitchen chair for comfort. With the laptop set up and humming, he started scanning the files and reviewing was the information from the Sheriff's office. Another larger company owned Tri-State, but finding information on that parent company was even harder. Thanking Simon for the glass of juice that appeared at his elbow, he got to work.

Four hours later he leaned back and stretched his spine. Rubbing his eyes, Blair wished for his glasses that had been lost in the fire. He felt he was getting closer, but admitted he needed help. He had emailed several computer gurus he knew from Rainier that specialized in business Intel gathering. Insert the work `hackers' here. The net was cast out on the waters. He told Simon he needed to `take care of business' and hobbled toward the bathroom.

When he returned, he was surprised to see Nancy Cooper standing at the front door talking to Simon. Simon held a paper plate of warm cinnamon rolls in his hand.

"Hi, Blair. I asked the manager for your room number and thought I'd drop off some sweets." Nancy said. She was dressed for work with white pants and a colorful smock.

"Hey, Nancy. Wow! Thanks! We needed a break."

"Good. Let me know if there's anything else you fellas need. You can reach me at the hospital, if I'm not on, they can beep me." She pointed to the small pager clipped to her pocket. "I've got to run or I'll be late for work."

Simon had a sticky roll half eaten before he even set the plate on the table. Blair reached for one and tore off a bite to stuff into his mouth.

"None of that, kid. You'll get your bandages dirty and Ellison will bust my chops. Let me cut it up."

"Yeah but by then, you'll have eaten three and I'll be just starting!"

"Tough."

Blair dug into his treat as Simon started in on his second. Licking his fingers he checked his email and crowed in triumph.

"I got it, man! The company at the end of all this paper chase is `Star Light Industries.'" Blair took a sip of juice.

Simon frowned, "Wait a minute. I've heard of that name before. He reached for the hotel phone and started dialing his own cell phone that he had loaned to Ellison.

"Jim, Blair's found the parent company. `Star Light Industries.' Wasn't that the name of the folks that tried to build that resort on the waterfront four years ago..." he frowned and rubbed his head.

Blair watched from his seat, popping the last of the roll into his mouth and chewing. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head slowly. Man, he was tired.

Simon was nodding into the phone. "Yeah, right. What was his name? .. Ahorn? ..no, but close...that's it! Acorn. Rupert Acorn, Right!" He leaned his free hand onto the desk, then abruptly sat down in the chair.

Blair watched as Simon turned his upper body toward him, his expression becoming puzzled, then alarmed. "Jim! Get back ....here..."

"Simon?" Blair asked, rising from his chair. He didn't make it to his feet. He fell hard on to his butt. Damn, that hurt.

Banks let the phone slip out of his hands, falling to the floor. His eyes were drooping as his neck became limp, shoulders slumped forward.

Blair began to feel the heaviness. His body was being pulled down as if the gravity of the room had increased. What the hell? He watched as the large captain slid out of the seat and fell to the carpet.

"Jim! Som'ng wrong...Simmm.." Talking became too much of a chore as he felt his center of gravity shift. Falling forward, his cheek scraped against the carpet and Nancy Cooper stepped inside holding a hypo. Two men dressed in ambulance uniforms followed. Blair's eyes refused to remain open. He felt a sharp prick in his thigh then hands lifted him by the arms and legs.

"Nnoooo..." he groaned, his arms too heavy to fight. The last thought before he slipped into blackness was that Jim was listening....

Ellison floored the gas pedal, hurling the rental car down the road and causing Buck to tense in the passenger seat. They had finished at Buck's property, the older man satisfied that his barn was still locked up and secure. The two men were 45 minutes out of Coulee City when the cell phone had rung.

"Simon and Blair are in trouble." He ended the connection and tossed the phone to his passenger, giving his full attention and both hands to the task of driving. "They sound drugged, at least two other people came in. Call 911, ask to be switched to the Coulee City police dispatcher."

Buck did as requested and handed the phone back to Jim. The road was straight and Jim felt he could take one hand off the wheel long enough to explain to the dispatcher what he believed was in progress.

"Please contact Lieutenant Daily with the sheriff's office, he's been working with us on this case," Jim asked. A sign flew by their rental car. Thirty-five miles to the city limits.

Ellison handed the cell phone back to Buck so he could give his full attention to driving. He listened in as police officers announced they were arriving in the area and setting up positions around the motel. One officer running in without back up could get himself killed. After a few more agonizingly slow minutes, they were in place and approaching the ground floor room. Buck held the phone to his ear, his knuckles white.

Then nothing, the radio remained silent. Jim could picture the officers checking the door, guns drawn, standing to the side and crouched below the front window.

Suddenly the senior officer was requesting an ambulance and advising the scene was `code four'. They reported one male down, suspects G.O.A., meaning `gone on arrival'.

"Ask the dispatcher to request a description of the person down," Jim asked anxiously. Who was taken and who was hurt? Damn, he wished he could make this car fly!

Buck repeated the request and Jim heard the officer's response before the dispatcher could tell Buck. Jim thumped the steering wheel hard with his right palm. Blair!

"It sounds like Simon, Jim. He's breathing but unconscious. Blair's gone," Buck repeated his voice shaking with anger.

Less than half an hour later, Jim braked and killed the engine. They couldn't park in the lot due to the police and fire units blocking the entrance. A young woman in a police uniform held up her hand to stop the two men from approaching.

"I'm Jim Ellison, I called in the attack."

She nodded warily and reached for the lapel mike on her shoulder, her other hand resting on her holstered gun. After receiving favorable news, she smiled and nodded for the two to go past.

Simon was sitting on the sofa, a clear mask with a semi-inflated plastic balloon covering his mouth. He removed it as they entered.

"Jim! Nancy Cooper, from the hospital drugged us with rolls. They took Blair." He was unsteady, a blood pressure cuff still attached to his arm. Two men in fire uniforms hunched down next to him, taking information and checking vitals.

"You okay, Simon?" Jim asked, checking out his friend. A plate with two uneaten rolls had been marked as evidence. He had passed a cop dusting for prints on the front door when he'd entered. A uniformed sherriff standing by the window was speaking into a cell phone. His nametag read `Lieutenant Daily'

"Yeah, dammit! I can't believe I didn't see this coming!" Simon answered angrily. He glared at the firefighter who pushed the mask back over his face.

"Breathe a little more oxygen for us, sir. We'll be out of your hair as soon as we get this last set of vitals."

Jim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "It's not your fault, Simon. None of us expected another attack this soon."

The Lieutenant joined them. Flipping his phone closed, he held out his hand to shake Buck's hand, then Jim's. "Lieutenant Daily, Joel's talked about you, Jim; so I feel like I already know you and Blair. I'm sorry he's in trouble." He nodded to Stevens, "Simon tells me you guys think this is related to the fire?"

Buck nodded, "Blair is like a nephew to me. I'm being pressured to sell my place out in Dry Falls. I think this is a ploy to get the land and the water rights."

Coulee City police Captain Garcia joined their small group. New introductions were made all around as Simon signed off on the refusal for further aid. The firemen packed up their various bags and boxes of equipment and left.

"We've got an APB out for Cooper's car. The hospital says she never reported for her shift. I've got a unit going out there now to interview her co-workers. We've started a door-to-door, but so far nothing," Garcia reported and looked at his sheriff counterpart. "I'm going to have to call in the Feds, Chuck. This may get taken out of our hands."

"Blair found out the name of the company that was behind the law suit against Buck. Star Light Industries," Simon informed them looking up from his position on the couch. He did not trust his legs yet to stand up. "Jim and I had a case about four years ago with the same company, arsons mostly but reported attempts to force small businesses to sell. They wanted to build a casino and a high-class resort. But we could never prove a case against them. We came close to arresting one of the key players, Rupert Acorn, for extortion. But he disappeared."

Garcia nodded, "Did the resort get built?"

Jim shook his head. "No, the environmentalists did what we couldn't, they stopped them through zoning changes. It was an election year."

"Well, they still made a profit. Most of that area is condos and expensive office buildings now. That's what made it so hard to prove. They step back and forth over the line. Getting evidence was tough," Simon declared.

"They've added attempted murder and now kidnapping to their bag of tricks," Jim noted.

"Yeah," Simon agreed. "But unless we get really lucky, we still can't prove it!"

Captain Garcia's cell phone rang. He stepped out of the circle to talk, taking notes in a small pad he removed from his pocket and then returned in a few minutes. "Cooper's co-workers have no idea where she is. Apparently she's missed shifts before and has been written up for it. Her buddies told my men that she's usually with her boyfriend when she's missing work. Seems her boyfriend is a Realtor by the name of Rupert Applegate." He handed a small slip of paper to Daily. "They live together at this county address."

Lt. Daily read the address and nodded. "I'll send some units to check it out, but from the sounds of these folks, they're not going to be stupid enough to hang around." He walked over the rear window and made the call.

Buck sank wearily onto the sofa next to Simon. "Oh God, we don't have a chance, do we?"

Simon leaned over and softly answered. "I've learned never to give up when it comes to Jim and Blair."

Blair woke to sounds of loud engine noises, like chain saws. Wow, Jim must really be tired to snore this loud. He shifted and realized his arms were pinned down under his belly. The skin around his mouth was pulling funny. His tongue played with a soft roll of material in his mouth. He opened his eyes, this was not his room. This wasn't even the loft!

The chain saws got fainter, they ran rough like someone was gunning the motor. The bed he was on was big. He was lying on his stomach, face turned towards a windowless wall.

Wait! Shit!

Simon fell! He was on the phone and he just fell off his chair! Blair had never seen the big man just fall over like that! The last 72 hours came back in a rush, making him dizzy.

`So this sticky thing around my mouth would be duct tape?' he mused. He checked his feet, bending his knees weakly. Yep, feels like his ankles were taped along with his hands. Other than being weak he didn't think he had any new injuries. He wondered briefly what he had been drugged with. It's not like Nurse Cooper didn't have access to a lot of drugs. He shifted, his hands hurt in this position, carefully he rolled to his side, That was better.

He tried to bring his bound hands up to his face, but found his kidnappers had made a few passes around his waist with the duct tape, pinning his arms down. Made sense, otherwise he could remove his gag.

Lifting his head he looked around the tastefully decorated bedroom. He realized his hosts had some serious money. The furniture was nice, it looked like solid oak. The drapes and bedspread he was on matched. Martha Stewart had nothing on these people. He snorted, picturing the classy TV host looking at the camera and declaring to the morning viewers "Kidnapping with a color scheme, it's a good thing!"

Boy, he was losing it! How long had he been asleep? It was light outside, was it morning light or evening light? He couldn't tell. What time had the cinnamon rolls been delivered? Five? Six? Later? This must be morning. Yeah, that explained why he felt hungry.

So, Jim knew he was missing. Boy, he must be mad. Blair had missed two deadlines for his antibiotics. Picturing his roommate rushing into the room to rescue him, then immediately laying into him about not taking the pills caused him to giggle. Oh, God! I AM losing it!

Blair heard the door to the bedroom open. He closed his eyes, his earlier mirth crashing into panic with nauseating speed. A large hand rolled him to his back and he opened his eyes. A large blond man with a trim mustache leaned over him. Fingernails dug into his cheek and the tape was ripped off with a quick yank.

"You bite me and I'll have your teeth for a necklace," trim mustache promised with cold eyes. He fished a finger and thumb into Blair's mouth and pulled out a small roll of three-inch gauze, the type used as bandages.

A second man with a body that had seen a lot of exercise entered the room with a cell phone in his right hand. He held it out against Blair's head and nodded to him. "Talk."

Blair made a quick guess. "Jim?"

"Blair! Are you okay?"

"Yeah.." he waited for the phone to get yanked back, but Muscles seemed content to let him chat. "Is Simon okay?"

A huff of air. "Yeah, junior, he's fine. Where are you?"

"A room, don't know where" This was incredible, didn't these guys understand the rules? Still the phone remained. He took a chance. "It was Nancy Coop-" Muscles pulled the phone away and slapped him hard across the face, then replaced the phone. Tears formed in his eyes, damn, that smarts!

"Blair!"

" 'm `kay.." No feeling in my face, he thought, but message received loud and clear. "Not `posed to talk bout that, I guess." He looked accusingly at his `bully' who was ignoring him and studying his watch. Oh well, Simon probably figured out the drug was in the rolls.

"Just do exactly what they say, Chief. No hero stuff, got it?"

"Got it."

The phone was removed and Muscles turned and left the room, followed closely by Trim Mustache. Blair watched the door close and he was left alone.

"Jim, two guys. Tall blond with mustache. Other's shorter but body builder type, brown hair. Neither have glasses or face hair. Expensive furniture in room." He ran out of things to say, not even sure that the phone connection was still there. "Bye, big guy. Please find me."

To say that Ellison was angry was like saying the Navy owned a few rowboats. Buck watched Jim's jaw grind down on his molars until his own teeth ached in sympathy. The Federal agents had arrived that morning. A tape recorder had been hooked up to the hotel phone, the call was too short to trace. The demands had been vague, simply claiming `you know what to do'. They were listening to the recording, Blair's voice was shaky and he sounded scared, tired and in pain. Buck winced when the sharp sound of the slap cracked loudly. Blair's next line made Stevens smile a little.

"Damn it kid. I knew who drugged us," Simon muttered darkly.

The Feds had set up a base of operations in the suite next to theirs. So after instructions and explanations were made, the suits retired next door to plan their strategies. The Cascade cops were not invited.

"Okay, Jim. What to you think?" Simon asked softly when the door clicked shut leaving the three men alone. They had expected the call sometime that morning. The home that Applegate and Cooper lived at had been empty. No sign of either of the suspects' cars had been reported. The door-to-door had revealed very little. One man had noticed Cooper with the rolls, but he had gone into his room before the kidnapping occurred. They were at a standstill.

"Were you able to hear anything on the phone that would tell us where Blair is?" Buck added.

Simon choked and stared at him in surprise.

"He knows, Simon. I told him at Dry Falls."

"Oh. You could have warned me, Jim."

Jim headed for the door. "Sorry, lets grab a late breakfast, I want to get out of this room for a while. The Feds can monitor the phone."

They informed their next-door neighbors that they would be at McDonalds. It was unlikely there would be any more phone calls for a few hours. Buck's attorney had called just after nine to inform his client that Tri-State was willing to settle out of court. It was obviously the kidnappers' demands, but there was no way to prove it! They offered fifty thousand dollars for the land and water rights, but only gave him forty-eight hours to sign or `the deal was dead`. Stevens knew the hidden message referred to Sandburg. The price was small change compared to the value of the hundreds of acres and water rights.

"I'm selling the land. I don't care about the orchard anymore, I just want Blair back," Buck announced to the other two men as they sat down at a remote table in the lobby of the fast food restaurant.

Jim shook his head. "It won't matter. Blair's seen his kidnappers, they'll kill him no matter what we do." He relayed the message he had heard Sandburg give after the men had left him. Buck was amazed at the cop's ability to hear everything so acutely. "I also heard some motors in the background."

"A car?" the black captain asked picking up his coffee he'd ordered.

"No," Jim frowned. "More like a boat, but it sounded different, smaller?"

"Jet skis," Buck guessed.

"Yeah, that's it. At least two jet skis."

"Okay, so we know the house is near water," Simon reasoned.

"Great, there's only about 91 miles of shoreline on Banks Lake alone," Buck glumly stated.

They picked at their breakfast sandwiches quietly, each man lost in thought. The place was nearly empty, between times for the normal rushes. In the corner was a small stand that displayed free booklets advertising properties for sale.

"Wait a minute." Jim leaned forward. "We know Applegate sells real estate. They need a place to hold Blair. Where else but an empty house that is waiting to be sold?"

"I don't know Jim, that's a lot of addresses," Simon warned.

"We start with Applegate's listing, look for waterfront property. Hell, even start with furnished! Maybe a vacation rental! Blair said the furniture was `nice', remember?!" Jim's eyes had the gleam of the hunter now, closing in on its prey.

Simon caught the look and mirrored it. "It could work!"

"It's got to, Simon. I'm not going home without Blair."

Jim sat in the rental car next to Simon, they could see the front of the single story rambler, but no cars were out front. The place looked empty. He extended his hearing carefully, tilting his head slightly.

"No. This isn't it, Simon."

"Okay, where's the next spot, Buck?"

The sound of a map being opened came from the back seat. Simon started the car and pulled away from the curb. He'd lost count of the number of addresses they'd driven to. The list had been easy to obtain once they had the name of the realty company, then a quick run into a book store for a detailed county map. The debate to include the Feds was short. How could they explain hearing jet skis when the recording never picked it up? They told the FBI team that they were meeting with the civil attorney and could be reached on Simon's cell phone.

The next house looked better. It was a two-story white home with blue trim on Banks Lake. The drapes in the window were attractive. The house had an attached garage, but the door was closed. Simon cut off the engine with a twist of the key. Both men looked at the sentinel.

Jim tilted his head for almost 30 seconds, then smiled. "This is it. Blair's on the second floor, back side."

"That is amazing," Buck whispered in a hushed voice. "Are we going to call the police now?"

Simon and Jim exchanged a look. Good question, Jim thought. They would still have to explain why they believed Blair was inside.

"I don't see how we can, Jim," Banks grumbled. "We don't even have probable cause to go inside, for that matter."

"Don't give a damn. I'm not a cop right now anyway," Jim declared.

"Okay, Jim. Just settle down." Simon placed a large hand on the other man's arm. "You know we're with you all the way on this. But we need a plan, or we could get Sandburg killed."

Jim relaxed just a little, nodding to his friend. "Okay, I think a police captain, ex-ranger and ex-seal should be able to come up with something."

Blair hadn't moved much during the last several hours. His feet and hands had gone numb some time ago. His throat was parched. He listened to his stomach growling. The now recognizable sound of boats and Jet Skis led him to believe he was near one of the lakes in the area. No one had bothered to check on him after the conversation with Jim.

He was pretty sure he had fallen back asleep during the day, so he had no way of knowing what the time was. He spent a few minutes trying to guess the day of the week. Lets see, he thought, I rode over on Friday with Curtis - God, that seems like years ago! - then, Jim joined me on-.

The soft sound of a tap on the window interrupted his pondering. What was that? The tap came again.

"Jim? If that's you, tap twice," Blair croaked.

Two taps close together.

Blair's heart soared! "Yes! Jim, thank you, thank you, thank you," Blair chanted, keeping his voice low. "Okay, okay, calm down Blair. Umm. So, like I said there are two guys. I saw them come in with Nancy at the motel. But I haven't seen her here. No one else is in the room with me. I'm duct taped like a mummy, man. Can't even scratch my nose. But happy to report no new injuries. No one has checked in since I talked to you on the phone, man. I know, I know. If you were here right now you'd be telling me to breathe." Blair paused and drew in deep breaths. God, why was he shaking? Adrenaline? "Jim, just be careful okay? These guys look really, really scary. You better have Simon with you, you need to have someone watch your back."

A loud crash from somewhere below interrupted the string of instructions. It was immediately followed by shouts and finally the sharp report of gunfire. Blair held his breath listening and willing his friends to stay safe. Finally there was a long moment of silence and the sound of someone running up a flight of stairs. Blair had a moment to wonder how Jim was able to tap on the window if he was in fact on the second floor?

Jim came through the door tucking his gun in his belt, a small kitchen knife in the other hand, breathing hard. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Is everybody okay, Jim?" Blair asked, watching Ellison approach and study his predicament on the bed.

"Yeah, Chief. We're all fine. Simon has both of them downstairs. Buck is on the phone to the sheriff's office." He kneeled on the bed and started sawing on the tape around Blair's legs. "If anyone asks, you were shouting for help, okay?"

Blair nodded. "Sure, I can do that."

Legs now free, Jim sat Blair up and helped him swing his legs over the side, then started on the tape around his waist.

"Buck is coming up," Jim volunteered.

Stevens entered the room, going straight to Blair. He carefully placed both hands on the younger man's shoulders and looked him over from head to toe. "You okay, runt?" he asked roughly.

"I'm good, Uncle Buck," Blair answered, then squeaked in surprise when the older man dropped down next to him on the bed and embraced him in a firm but careful bear hug. Ellison waited, knife paused, to give the man a moment.

"God, Blair. I was terrified that I got you killed!" Buck mumbled into the grad student's hair.

Unable to hug his `uncle' back, Blair leaned into the embrace. "Never happen, man. I knew you guys would find me."

Blair let Jim and Buck help him down the stairs, glad to be freed from captivity. He was complaining of pins and needles in his extremities.

The three men could hear yelling from the main room. Jim smiled, listening to his Captain.

"You interfered with our investigation, Banks! I'm calling your Chief!"

"Go ahead! I'm not on the clock. I already told you we just played a hunch. It's called `detective work'. You FBI guys need to remember the basics, maybe I could look it up for you and you can read it yourself!"

They entered the room to find Banks and the Fed in charge toe to toe, neither man backing down. Lt. Daily was standing off to one side with several of his deputies, enjoying the show. He waved at Jim with a grin and gave thumbs up when he saw Sandburg.

"Jim, could I have a drink?" Blair asked quietly as they sat him down in a nice leather love seat. The shouting continued to entertain the occupants in the room, probably the whole block.

"I'll get it." Buck quickly headed for the kitchen.

The two kidnappers were nowhere in sight. Thankfully they had not been injured in the shooting, as neither cop had returned fire. When it had became obvious that they were surrounded and cut off from getting to Blair, they had given up easily.

A deputy entered the living room, watching with interest as Banks and the Fed continued their loud discussion. He walked over to his supervisor and whispered into the man's ear.

With a grin, Lt. Daily nodded and spoke up. "Gentlemen! If you're both finished pissing in the corners, I'm informed that the two in custody are outside falling over each other to be the first one to make a deal. It seems they can lead us to Applegate and Cooper.

"We're not done here, Banks!" The Fed stormed out the front door.

Simon turned to Jim with a weary look on his face, then smiled as he saw Sandburg. "Well, that went well. How ya doing, kid?"

"Good, Simon. Thanks for the rescue, man!" Blair took the glass of water from Buck's with both his bandaged hands and took a long drink. "Oh, yeah. This hits the spot!" Another drink and Blair looked around in interest. "Where are we?"

"Twenty minutes north of Coulee City, on the east shore of Banks Lake," Jim answered, fishing into his pocket with his hand.

"Hey, how'd you tap on the window, Jim?" Blair whispered, so no deputies or Feds could hear. "I was on the second floor."

Jim smiled and opened the pill bottle he'd taken out of his pocket. "I wasn't tapping, Chief. I was tossing pebbles." He shook out a pill and held it between his thumb and forefinger. "Open up."

The three men stared in concern as the smaller man collapsed back onto the love set in helpless laughter.

Sitting in the shade of the large tree, Blair watched contentedly as Simon, Jim and Uncle Buck set another truss that would be the new roof. They had declared the stonewalls as savable. He checked the meat grilling and went back to watching the men work.

Buck was right; the house was going to be better than before. Simon had extended both his and Jim's leave of absence from Cascade. Blair had gotten extra time off thanks to a fellow T.A. who owed him a huge favor, plus he was still recuperating from his injures. This weekend, the guys from Major Crimes were driving over to help. It was going to be a blitz build! This was just like his younger days with 'Habitat for Humanity', when he was part of a group of 50 or so building a house in a week.

Blair frowned at his hands. It would be better if he could actually pick up a hammer. Ellison had to be talked into letting Blair grill their steaks! Talk about over protective!

"Hey, Sandburg! Don't burn my steak!" Jim called from the top of a studded wall he was standing on.

"They're fine, Jim." Blair answered without raising his voice. But he stood and moved Jim's steak over to the side a little. The man liked it rare. No reason to hear Jim complain about it being overcooked.

They had been told yesterday that the Fed's had arrested both Applegate and Cooper. Nurse Cooper was also cutting deals with the FBI. Seems no one felt any loyalty to Rupert. The suits wouldn't let Jim or Simon anywhere near the last arrests. Which was fine with Blair, he'd had enough, thank you.

Rupert's plan was to build a large resort below Dry Falls, complete with golf courses, amusement parks, quality restaurants and airport. Buck's land was crucial for the deal. Tri-State Orchard were only following orders from the parent company to file the lawsuit, which was now dropped. Blair shuddered to think of this beautiful canyon turned into a commercialized tourist trap.

All in all, it was turning into a great spring break. Blair checked the food on the large piece of plywood setting on two saw horses. Potato salad from the deli, baked beans, corn on the cob - hot off the grill - and brownies. A cooler filled with beer and Sobe Green tea was set off to the side. Everything looked ready.

"Hey, Runt! Look what I found!" Buck approached holding up a blackened garden hoe with half the handle burned off. Jim and Simon followed, unclipping their borrowed tool belts and setting them next to the tree.

Blair groaned and hit his forehead in mock despair. "Oh great! Just my luck!"

Buck laughed and leaned the tool against the tree trunk. "I'll buy a new handle and it will be as good a new."

Blair eyed the hoe with trepidation.

"I don't get it, Sandburg," Banks said, opening a bottle of beer with a twist. "What have you got against a garden hoe?"

"That's not just a garden hoe, Simon. That's `old Guss'," Blair woefully informed the captain.

Ellison stood straight, his eyes flashed in anger at the ex-seal. In two quick strides he was pushing a stiff finger into the other man's chest. Buck stepped back in shock.

"You hit Sandburg with that?!"

"Jim!" Blair stood up in alarm.

Buck looked at the furious sentinel before him and laughed.

"JIM!" Blair moved to stand between the two taller men. "No, man, No way! I used to have to work in the garden. It was my punishment. I hated it, well, at first anyway," Blair explained in a rush.

Jim backed away. Blair could almost see the claws retracting. Wow, talk about your close calls.

Buck Stevens wiped his eyes. "Don't worry, Jim. Blair didn't need a lot of correction. Only in the early days, and I never had to use a garden tool." He leaned over the table and picked up a long wooden spoon placed next to the potato salad. "I seem to remember one of these worked just fine."

Blair dropped his red face into his hands.

The End

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to LKY

Home

Search for another story

[an error occurred while processing this directive]