Revenge
by Laura F. Schomberg

"Can you tell me, Mr. Sandburg, what were you doing in the Cascade Police Department that day?

"I was there to fill out the paper work to become a police observer."

The lawyer, dressed in a crisp gray dress, her dark, black hair held in place by a barrette, took two short steps toward the witness stand. Regarding Blair with warm, brown eyes, she asked, "Can you tell the court what happened when you got the forms?"

"Jim, I mean Lt. Ellison, left me with the clerk to fill out the forms. Not too much later I went to the restroom."

"What happened while you were in the restroom?"

"I was washing my hands when I heard a shot. I opened the door and saw several men with guns forcing the officers into the major crime office."

"What did you do, Mr. Sandburg?"

Blair shifted in his seat, taking a deep breath, he admitted, "I hid."

"That's certainly understandable. I would have hidden, given the chance. Please, tell us what else happened."

Blair looked over to Jim and Simon, sitting together behind the prosecutor's table. Jim briefly nodded, encouraging the nervous man to continue. He proceeded to describe in compelling detail his ordeal in the police building a few months earlier. Only when he turned to look into the murderous face of Garret Kincaid, when he reached his first encounter with the man, did his words falter and then stop.

Beverly Sanchez's eyes tracked Blair's line of sight. Quickly stepping in front of Kincaid, she asked, "What happened when you met Kincaid?"

Taking another deep breath, Blair said, "He said he was going to kill me for taking out two of his men."

"Do you remember what changed his mind?"

Blair gave the prosecutor a fleeting grin. "I told him I was a cop. Narcotics."

"And he believed you?"

"Yes. I guess I looked the part," Blair said, sending a ripple of laughter through the courtroom.

Beverly waited for the laughter to die before asking her next question. "Tell me what happened when he sent his men out?"

"He made two stay behind. I didn't hear what he told them. He then came over and grabbed me and pulled me out of the office. When I asked him why I was being singled out he said I was one of the lucky ones."

"What did you take that to mean?"

"Objection!" called Kincaid's lawyer, a tall, trim man dressed in a dark blue suit. "Calls for speculation."

"Your honor," Beverly said, turning to the judge. "Mr. Sandburg has training in observing people and determining how they may react to a given situation. He was also an eyewitness to Mr. Kincaid's actions and had the opportunity to observe Mr. Kincaid."

"Overruled," the judge stated. Turning to Blair he added, "Please continue, Mr. Sandburg."

"I took it to mean that the men left behind were going to kill the officers."

Kincaid leaped from his chair, vaulting over the defense table, and charging toward Blair. The man's sudden action caught the room off guard, allowing him to reach the witness stand before the officers could react. He slammed the prosecuting attorney aside as Blair jumped out of his seat, sending it toppling.

Leaping over the stand, Kincaid grabbed Blair, shouting, "I'll kill you! I'll kill you! No one deceives me like that and lives!"

Jim, Simon, and a bailiff plowed into Kincaid, grabbing him, and trying to pull him away from Blair. Kincaid refused to relinquish his grip, pulling Blair over the stand until the judge took hold of the young man's waist. Four more officers joined the fray, ripping Blair's shirt as they tore Kincaid's hands from his chest. Once his hold on Blair had been broken he was wrestled to the floor and handcuffed.

Kincaid was hauled to his feet and led shouting from the room as the judge retook the stand. Slamming his gavel, he shouted over the noise, "Court is in recess until ten o'clock tomorrow morning."

Blair leaned against the stand, trying to control the tremors which threatened to overtake his body. Jim approached the shaken man, placing a reassuring hand on his back.

"Are you all right, Blair?"

He shook his head, taking several deep breaths. Approaching the two, Simon dropped a reassuring hand on one of Blair's hands. The unexpected touch caught Blair's attention and he raised his head to look at Simon.

"You did a good job," Simon said. "Let's get you home."

The rare words of praise from Jim's captain helped Blair calm his tattered nerves. He straightened and ran a hand through his hair before walking slowly out of the witness stand. Jim placed his right arm around the anthropologist's shoulders and guided him out of the courtroom.

**************

Nine Months Later

Blair looked up from the test he was grading at the sound of a short, rapid knock on his door. "Come on in, Jessie." Hearing only a muffled cry in response to his call, he sighed, dropping his pen on top of the test, and rose from his seat. Moving quickly around a shelf of artifacts behind his desk, Blair reached the door as another call penetrated it.

Blair jerked the door open with the intention of yelling at his T.A. for pulling him from his work. The sight of Jessie, her hands carrying bags from a local restaurant and another bag held between her teeth, brought a smile to his lips and made him forget his anger.

"Need some help with that?"

The slim brunette nodded in relief as Blair took the bags from her hands. Dropping the bag from her teeth into a hand, Jessie followed Blair back into the office.

"I can't believe you brought dinner," Blair said, looking for a clear spot to place the bags.

"You said come after four and that we'd be here all night. I don't know about you but I didn't have lunch," Jessie replied, placing her bag on the floor, next to the shelf.

"I had every intention of having lunch. . ."

"But something came up," Jessie finished, taking the remaining bags back from Blair and putting them next to the first.

"Yeah."

"You know, Blair," Jessie said, looking around the office. "You really need another desk. It's a pain having crates as stand ins."

"I know," Blair sighed. "I've requisitioned one. They say it will be here next week."

Jessie shrugged before patting Blair's cheek. "So sweet. Always looking out for me."

Blair caught a glimpse of bright color in Jessie's hair as she turned away from him, dropping her hand from his face. He reached forward, snagging her wrist before it could reach her side and gently pulled her back around. Once she was facing him again, he released her, bringing his hand up to lightly grasp her chin.

"Kendra have a test this morning?" Blair asked, turning Jessie's head so that he could see the red, blue, and green beads braided into a section of her hair.

Jessie chuckled, reaching up to run her fingers over the braids. "Statistics. You know she has a Lit test tomorrow, if you want to come over and help her relax," Jessie told him with a mischievous grin. Fixing hair was her new roommates way of relaxing before a test and Jessie enjoyed the free styling.

"No, thanks." "So, do you want to eat first or what?"

"Why don't we eat. What did you bring?"

"Salads," she said, dropping easily into a cross-legged seat on the floor.

He sat on the floor across from her and asked, "Three bags for two salads?"

"Well, they're big salads," Jessie replied, pulling the salads from a bag and passing one of them to Blair. She reached into the small bag she had carried into the office in her teeth and brought out utensils and several different packages of salad dressing.

"What's in the last bag?"

"Best part. French fries."

Blair grinned. "Just don't tell Jim about my weakness. I've got an image to keep up."

**************

"Jim!" Simon called, standing in the door to his office, his hands on his hips.

Jim looked up from the paperwork on his desk. He shoved his chair back and headed over to his captain. "Yeah, Simon. It's after nine. I was hoping to finish this paperwork and get out of here."

"In my office," Simon snapped, turning away from Jim as he headed back into his office.

Jim, confused by Simon's cold demeanor, quickly walked into the office, shutting the door behind him. He turned to face his captain, leaning back against the door. "What's wrong, Simon?"

Simon dropped into his seat before taking off his glasses and flinging them on top of his desk. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he pointed to the empty chair in front of him, silently commanding Jim to sit. Jim pushed away from the door, swiftly moving to sit as directed.

"Where's Sandburg?"

It was the one question Jim hadn't been expecting. He gave a slight shake of his head before answering, "Could be at one of three places. Why?"

Simon blew air out of his mouth. "Kincaid escaped from prison."

"When?" Jim asked, shocked.

"This morning."

"And you're just telling me this now!?!"

Simon gestured angrily to his phone. "They only called and informed me ten minutes ago!"

Holding up a consolatory hand, Jim said, "Sorry, Simon. Did the authorities at the prison tell you what happened?"

"Apparently he had help from the inside. He faked an attack of appendicitis. Either Kincaid was really able to simulate the symptoms or the prison doctor was part of his plan, they aren't sure. He somehow managed to kill the guards transporting him to the hospital. They suspect that one of the guards killed the other and then Kincaid killed him."

Jim leaned back in his seat, still stunned by Simon's news.

"Knowing how Kincaid plans these things out he's probably already here," Simon pointed out, picking up the phone and tossing it to the front of the desk.

Jim jerked his chair closer to the desk. He put the phone to his ear, his finger hesitating over the keypad, unsure which number would yield successful results. If Blair had convinced Jessie to help him grade tests then he might be at the loft or her place. Taking the chance that Jessie's car was still in the shop, he quickly dialed her number.

**************

"Done!" Jessie cheered, jumping out of her seat and dancing a quick jig.

Blair ignored her victory dance as he finished grading the last test in his pack. He dropped his pen, pulled his glasses off, and ran his hand through his hair. Rapidly getting out of his seat, he moved over to where Jessie was still dancing, her back to him. Reaching around her waist, he pulled her around and close to him, grabbing her right hand.

They began to waltz, each surprised that the other knew the dance. Moving in graceful circles, they continued dancing for a few moments. Blair brought the pair to a stop and gently kissed Jessie's lips. She returned the kiss, at first, then pulled away, breaking out of Blair's hold.

"Blair, I'm sorry. We can't."

Blair shrugged, not surprised by her reaction. Jessie, normally unconcerned what others thought of her, didn't want the suspicion of impropriety to ruin her chances to get into graduate school. Blair might not have a voice in the final decision but he could recommend students and any recommendation from a professor, even one who hasn't completed his doctorate, weighed heavily with the committee. Jessie was concerned that Blair's recommendation, if they became more than friends and coworkers, would be attributed to their relationship and not her work.

"You know, the announcement comes out Friday. I could ask Dr. Thackeray, the department chair, if you made the list."

Jessie quickly shook her head. "No."

"Why not? Since you're my T.A. I've got the right to know."

"There are over 100 applicants and only eight openings. I don't want you to find out I didn't make it first."

"I think you're selling yourself short."

Jessie shrugged. "Tell you what, let's go out Friday night, either way. I'll even treat."

"No you won't. And it'll be a celebratory dinner."

"I hope so," Jessie said, looking at her watch. "It's after nine. Were you planning on putting the grades in the book tonight?"

"No way," Blair answered, looking back at the tests scattered on his desk. "Let's get out of here."

They moved quickly about the room. Blair straightened the tests into a single stack, briefly considering alphabetizing the tests to make entering it in the grade book easier and just as quickly rejecting the idea. Jessie cleared away the remains of their early dinner.

"Did you get your car?"

"No," she sighed. "Maybe tomorrow. I still can't believe that a minor fender bender would take two weeks to repair."

"It's that foreign car you drive," Blair said, moving to the door.

"Oh right. Like they still make parts for that Corvair of yours."

Blair opened the door and held it for Jessie. She was reaching to pick up her purse when the phone rang.

"I'll get it," she said, swiftly moving across to pick up the phone.

"Blair Sandburg's office."

"Let me speak to Mr. Sandburg," a voice Jessie didn't recognize responded.

Jessie held the phone out to Blair. He glanced down at his watch and then mouthed, "Who is it?"

"May I ask who's calling?"

"A friend."

Jessie turned back to Blair. "He didn't say," she told him, keeping her hand over the mouthpiece. "I don't recognize the voice."

"Forget it. Let's go."

"Sorry. Mr. Sandburg's already left."

The voice on the other end chuckled. The cold quality of the man's laughter made Jessie uneasy.

"I'll try later," the man said before hanging up the phone.

Jessie hung up the phone and turned to Blair. "Well, that was weird."

"Come on. Let's get out of here before someone else calls," Blair said, gesturing to Jessie to come out of the office.

His assistant quickly moved past him and out of the room. He shut the door, using his key to lock it as the phone started to ring. Blair started to open the door, with a shake of his head he changed his mind and pulled the key out of the lock.

Lightly placing a hand on the small of Jessie's back, he said, "Let's get out of here. I'll take you home."

**************

Jim slammed the phone down and stormed to Simon's window. His captain calmly watched his back as Jim smashed a fist into the wall. Reaching across the desk, Simon picked up the phone and swiftly punched in a few numbers. When he received an answer on the other end, he ordered a squad car sent to the three locations Jim had called and an APB placed on the wayward anthropologist.

Jim turned, leaned back against the wall, and looked up at the ceiling. He snapped his fingers in sudden inspiration. Taking three long steps he was back across the room before Simon finished his call. He waited impatiently until Simon put the phone back in its cradle and then scooped it up. Rapidly, he punched in a seven digit number before dropping down to sit on the edge of Simon's desk.

"Who are you calling now?"

"Jessie's cell phone. I just hope she has it with her."

**************

Jessie stopped walking toward the exit when she dimly made out the sound of her cell phone ringing within the confines of her purse. With one hand she waved Blair on as she dug the phone out of her bag and flipped it open. Blair briefly watched her before continuing toward the door, intending to bring the car around if Jessie didn't catch up.

"Hello."

"Jessie," a voice she didn't recognize due to the static in the cell said. "Where's Blair?"

"Who's this?"

"Jim."

"Hi, Jim. Was that you on the phone in the office a minute ago? Sorry but we were already out the door."

"Jessie," Jim said, sounding irritated. "Where's Blair?"

"He's heading to the exit."

"Stop him! I want both of you to go back to his office and lock yourselves in till I get there!"

"What's going on?" Jessie asked as she started to quickly walk down the hall.

"Just tell him Kincaid's out. He'll understand. I'm heading there now."

Jessie closed up the phone after the cell went dead and absently dropped it back into her purse. She broke into a run when she realized she couldn't see Blair in front of her. Dashing around the corner, she saw him at the top of the stairs, opening the exit door.

**************

Kincaid's man, Chandler, stood next to him in the dark. He had been chosen by Kincaid because he had never missed his target. Currently he waited, gun resting on a low wall across the parking lot from the anthropology building's side exit. The door was awash in light and Kincaid knew that Chandler wouldn't have much longer to wait. And neither would he.

Kincaid had dreamt of killing Sandburg each night in his cell. He hated Ellison and Banks but his feelings for them were nothing compared to his feelings of rage toward the kid. Ellison and Banks were performing their duties as any good soldier would do but Sandburg had deceived him. He had taken out two of Kincaid's men and convinced him that he was something he wasn't, a cop. Worst of all, Sandburg had pushed him out of a helicopter. Only a desperate grab and Ellison's hold on his wrist had kept him from falling to his death.

"Someone's coming," the marksman whispered, breaking Kincaid out of his reverie.

He quickly pulled his binoculars to his eyes. Training the glasses on the door in the distance, he held his breath as a dark haired man stepped out of the building.

"It's him. Do it."

Chandler nodded once, lifting his high-powered rifle to his shoulder. He sighted carefully on his target. Once he was certain of his shot, his finger squeezed the trigger.

**************

"Blair," Jessie called, racing up the stairs. She didn't know what was wrong but she was certain it was extremely serious.

"Blair! Wait! Come back inside!"

Blair was just outside the door, holding it open as he waited for his assistant. At the sound of her shouts he turned his head, trying to see her over his shoulder. When she reached the top stair and gasped for him to come back inside he turned sharply. A piercing, fiery pain bit into the back of his upper right arm, propelling him forward. He slammed into Jessie, sending them both tumbling down the stairs.

Neither moved for a moment. Blair was the first to recover from their fall. He sat up, leaning against the wall, and grabbed his injured arm. Jessie stumbled to her feet, shaking her head as she slowly moved over to him.

She grasped his left arm, pulling it away from the injury, saying, "We've got to get moving." Then she gasped at the sight of blood on his hand. The sight stunned her, made her forget her earlier urgency in the sudden realization that someone had just shot her friend.

Blair pushed himself away from the wall, lurching to his feet. He pulled Jessie along behind him, dragging her back down the hall to his office. Once inside, he released Jessie and slammed the door shut. Seeing Jessie grab the shelves closest to the door, he went to help. Jessie pulled the shelves while Blair pushed them with his good shoulder until they hand maneuvered the furniture as close to the door as possible. Jessie then came around and helped Blair shove the shelves against the door, locking them in the room.

"Jim's on his way," Jessie panted, pulling off her jacket. Using her fingernails, she jerked at the seam at her shoulder, finally managing to tear the sleeve off her shirt as Blair eased out of his coat. "That was him on my cell phone."

"What did he say?" Blair asked, allowing Jessie to wrap the cloth around his injury. He was barely able to contain a cry of pain as she tied a tight knot against the wound.

"Sorry," she whispered. "He said Kincaid's out."

Blair cursed and used his good arm to grab Jessie's hand, pulling her to the wall farthest from the door. He dropped to a seat on the floor, dragging her down beside him. "I hope he gets here in time," was all he managed to say.

**************

Kincaid watched as the man he wanted dead held the door open. He suspected that the young man waited for the woman who had answered his phone. A satisfied smile crossed his face, Sandburg was making himself an easy target. He heard the slight pop of the silenced rifle beside him. Kincaid's smile turned to a frown as he saw his target make a sudden turn at the same time. The smile didn't return when he witnessed the man stumble back into the building.

"Report," he barked out.

"He moved, sir. I think I hit him but I can't be sure."

Kincaid was about to tell his man to finish the job when he heard the sound of sirens piercing the dark. He was certain that Sandburg or the woman he was waiting for had not yet had the opportunity to call the police. "It appears the Cascade Police have been informed of my escape."

Knowing his man would follow him, he turned sharply on his heel and started walking across the campus. They kept away from the lights as they moved quickly to the lot where Chandler had parked his car. No one saw their retreat.

**************

Jim's truck roared into the parking lot. The lights from four patrol cars beat an eerie pattern against the surrounding buildings. He aimed his truck at the pack of cars, screeching to a halt inches from the nearest vehicle. He shut the engine off and raced out of the car and to a nearby officer.

"Report," he ordered, flashing his badge.

"Someone's been hurt," the man answered briskly. "We found blood at the entrance to the building." The man turned away, leading Jim over to the door.

Stepping gingerly around the splash of dark red blood beside the door, Jim followed the officer into the building. He felt the tension building in him as his eyes tracked the blood down the stairs, stopping at the bottom. The smear of dark red on a wall beside the stairs caught his attention.

"Outside you said someone's been hurt. Do you know where that person is?"

The man nodded briskly. "Yes sir. The trail of blood leads to the office that Captain Banks told us to report to."

Jim turned away from the officer to race down the hallway. The officer's shorter legs strained to keep up with the detective's pace. They slid to a halt as they rounded the corner. Jim walked quickly to the group of officers milling around the office door.

"Why isn't this door open?" he demanded.

One of the officers, a woman, spoke out, "We tried to open it, sir, but it's been blocked from the inside. They'll have to open it."

"Did you identify yourselves to the occupants?"

The woman nodded. "Yes, sir. The woman on the other end didn't seem to believe us. She said that you were coming and she had a gun."

"She? Did you believe her?"

The petite officer flashed an amused smile at the taller man. "No, sir. Not that I can blame her for not trusting us. I heard the APB on Kincaid," she said as the smile vanished.

Quickly motioning the officers to move back, Jim placed an ear against the door. He felt relief course through his body as he heard two quiet voices coming through the office door. "Blair! Jessie! It's Jim! Open the door!"

"Oh, man. Jim! Wait a minute," he heard Blair's voice say. He was able to make out the sounds of two people rushing to the door. Jim heard them shake something metal, heard it move for just a fraction of a moment and then stop.

"Ah, Jim," Blair called. "We can't get the shelves away from the door."

"How did you get it there in the first place?"

Only Jim, using his enhanced hearing, could hear Jessie's answer through the door. "Panic." He grinned briefly until he heard what else she said.

"Sit down, Blair. I'll get the things off the shelves."

"I can . . ."

"Sit down!"

Jim listened to the sounds of Jessie quickly pulling things off shelves. Occasionally she would stop and Jim would hear the metal shelves scrape a little father across the concrete floor. After the third time this pattern was played out in his ears Jim shouted through the door, "Jessie! Start pulling on the shelves! We'll push from this end!"

He briefly gestured to the largest of the waiting officers. Two men came forward and leaned their shoulders against the door. Jim counted quickly to three and the three men threw their combined full weight against the door. It rocked open, slamming into the shelves just a few inches away. The men continued to press their weight into the door. They stopped as one, gathering their strength before slamming into the door again. The shelves behind the door swayed precariously and then started to tip over.

"Jessie!" Blair yelled.

The officers jumped back from the door at the sound of Blair's yell. Everyone in the hallway heard multiple crashes as artifacts fell from the tipping metal shelves. The loud explosion that emanated from the office as the shelves slammed down stunned the officers. Watching the door, Jim heard the scream of metal against concrete as the door began to shut.

"Stop it!" he yelled, throwing himself against the door. The other officers slammed into the door and stopped it's momentum. Jim gestured roughly to the remaining officers and they quickly slipped through the opening.

"We've got it!" a female voice called.

Jim and the large officers gently eased away from the door. When it didn't show signs of swinging shut, Jim squeezed through the opening. He rapidly scanned the office, spotting the officers trying to move the shelves, the artifacts scattered about the floor, and the way the top of the shelves rested against the furniture Jessie had moved.

Blair was kneeling next to the desk, his right arm hanging uselessly at his side as he desperately dragged artifacts out from under the shelves. Jim dropped beside him, reaching for a small hand buried under the debris that was pushing at the objects nearby. Using both hands he pulled Jessie from her precarious position. She yelped in pain as her head connected with the shelves.

Jim pulled her to her feet and then tenderly pressed her to a seat on the edge of the desk. "Are you all right?"

Jessie nodded, wincing when her fingers touched a deep gash on her forehead. "I guess I should have started at the top of the shelves. Blair was shot."

He dropped back beside Blair. The young man was leaning against a file cabinet, holding his right arm tight against his side. Jim gently eased his roommate's fingers from his arm and untied the cloth surrounding the injury. Turning to an officer standing behind him he asked, "Has an ambulance been called?"

"I called one," Jessie responded. Jim turned sharp blue eyes to her. She shrugged, "I didn't have anything else to do while we waited for you to get here."

"Can you walk?" he asked, directing his question to Blair and Jessie. Both nodded. "Let's go meet the paramedics."

He helped Blair to his feet, supporting him when he swayed as a wave of dizziness caused by blood loss passed over the younger man. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the female officer move quickly to Jessie's side, offering her support. The group slowly moved out of the office and down the hall.
**************

Simon's long legs carried him swiftly down the hospital corridor. He slowed down when he saw Jim coming out of the room he was approaching. Placing his hands on his hips, he stopped in front of the door, waiting for Jim to come to him.

"How are they doing?"

Jim nodded in tired relief. "Jessie's right there," he said, indicating the door behind Simon. "The doctors think she has a concussion so they're going to keep her overnight. Blair's in here." He jerked his thumb toward the door he had just come through. "He's lost a lot of blood but the docs think he'll be okay. He's also in for the night. They're both sleeping."

"There's no sign of Kincaid," Simon stated. "I did get in touch with Jessie's roommate. The girl gave me Mr. Daniels phone number. I strongly recommended that he take Jessie back to Oregon until we got Kincaid. He'll be here in the morning."

"Good. Kincaid may not know about Jessie but I'd rather not take the chance."

"My thoughts exactly. I noticed the guard at the door when I came in. What other precautions have you taken?"

"There's a guard inside each room," Jim replied, looking over Simon's shoulder at two people who were standing in between the double doors at the end of the hallway. "Just a minute, Simon," he said before quickly walking past his captain and heading down the hall.

He strode down the corridor toward the couple arguing quietly with the guard at the door. "It's okay, officer," he said upon his arrival. "The young woman is Ms. Daniels roommate."

"Thanks, Detective Ellison," she gratefully replied. She was a pretty girl, with almond skin and eyes so dark they appeared to be black. Her hair had changed since he last saw her, numerous, long, intricate braids replacing chin-length hair. She pulled the man with her through the door. "This is my brother, Omari," she told Jim.

Jim didn't need Kendra's introduction to know that the man standing beside her was her brother. Although his skin was a shade darker then hers the familial resemblance was striking.

Omari stuck out his hand and gave Jim's hand a firm, strong shake. "How's Jess and Blair?"

"Jess," Jim said, surprised. The one time he had called her Jess she had nearly torn his head off. "I didn't think she let anyone call her that."

"Being her best friend for close to 10 years has its advantages," Omari said with a small smile.

"But not enough to let you call her that to her face" his sister interjected.

Jim suppressed a grin. "Well, they'll be fine. They're both sleeping right now so you made the trip for nothing."

"Not really," Omari replied as Simon walked up to the group. "No one would tell us their condition when we called the hospital."

Jim heard Simon's approach and turned to the dark skinned man. "Simon, these two are Kendra and Omari Redding. You spoke to Kendra earlier this evening."

Simon shook their hands, replying, "Ms. Redding, Mr. Daniels will be arriving in the morning. Could you prepare a suitcase so he can take her home?"

Kendra nodded, the gold beads in her hair knocking together. Omari looked at his scared sister and back to the two officers. "Just what is going on? Nobody will tell us anything."

Jim quickly told the pair about Kincaid's attack earlier that evening. Stressing that sending Jessie to Oregon was just a precautionary measure, he explained that Kincaid had a personal grudge against Blair.

Omari took the information in with a stoic face. Turning serious eyes to Jim he asked, "Do you really think he would come after Jessie to get to Blair?"

"We just don't want to give him the opportunity."

The young man closed his eyes in contemplation for a brief moment. Coming to a decision, he turned to his younger sister and directed, "When you get done packing a bag for Jess pack one for yourself. I'll call Mr. Daniels and see what flight he's taking back. Maybe we can get on the same flight."

"Omari," Kendra protested. "I have a test in the morning. Besides he's not after me."

"You live with Jessie, that's a good enough reason for me. And your test is at eight o'clock. We can leave when its done."

**************
Simon had been impressed by Jessie's father. He had come into town prepared to take not only his daughter but her friends as well home to Oregon. Watching her father in action, Simon realized that the three young people didn't stand a chance. He just hoped that someday his son would show him as much respect. Maybe when he got out of the awkward teen years, Simon thought to himself.

Simon checked his watch as he waited for Blair to finish getting dressed. By now the Daniels and the Reddings were halfway to Wallace,Oregon and safety. Now all he and Jim had to do was keep Sandburg from Kincaid's clutches. Watching the young man struggle to button his shirt, refusing Jim's offer of assistance, told him just how difficult that would be.

"Here," Simon said impatiently. Stepping across to the bed, he quickly began fixing Blair's shirt.

Blair's face took on a look of disgust as Simon finished the task he hadn't been able to even start. "I could have done that," he insisted, knowing it wasn't true. His right arm was useless.

Jim smothered a grin, moving forward as the captain completed his task. He gently pulled Blair's injured arm through the sling provided by the doctors. Working quickly, he strapped the sling down, immobilizing the man's arm.

"Can we go know mom and dad?" Blair asked, petulantly, when Jim finally stepped away from the younger man.

"Just what are you planning?" Simon asked Jim. He had left the logistics of protecting Blair to Jim while he personally picked up Jessie's father, Jacob Daniels, at the airport.

"I'm going to take Blair back to our place. He'll have a couple of guards with him while I'm not there."

"Sure you don't want a safe house?"

"No. Kincaid's not going to be expecting us to stay at our place. And Blair will be in good hands. I've picked out four of the best officers to work in shifts."

"I'm right here, you know," Blair stated as he got off the bed and walked over to the door. "You don't have to talk about me like I was a child."

"Sorry, Kid," Jim replied, suppressing a grin when Blair winced at the endearment.
**************

Jim held the door open, allowing Blair to brush past him into the loft. The young man was quickly followed by two officers in plain clothes. Jim trained his eyes on a pair of movers down the hall as the others entered the apartment. Excusing himself, he went to check on his new neighbor.

He caught the door before it could shut behind the men who were moving a sofa onto the center of the floor. Stepping into the room, he watched a tall, slender woman, with jet black hair flowing down her back, point to a wall near the door. He relaxed, slightly when he recognized the woman as one of the people he had seen with the landlord one week before. Her eyes tracked the movers, coming to rest on Jim as they roughly shoved the sofa across the floor. "If you scratch my floor your company will pay to have it refinished," she warned, walking casually over to the detective. "You must be one of my neighbors."

Jim stretched out a hand to the woman, captivated by her pale creMegan skin, violet eyes, and lucious pink lips. "Uh, yeah. My name's Jim Ellison. I live in 307."

"Megan Parkinson," she supplied. "Was that woman I saw you with just a moment ago your wife?"

Jim shook his head quickly. "No. I'm divorced. That's a friend of my roommate's." He knew that Officer Rush wouldn't mind being described as a friend of Blair's under the current circumstances.

"I'm divorced too," Megan said, frowning as she assessed the sofa's new location. Turning suddenly back to Jim, she asked, "What do you think of that spot?"

"It's hard to tell without the rest of the furniture. If it helps, my sofa sits a few feet in front of the stairs."

She tried to picture the sofa in that position, her lips twisted to one side of her face. Shaking her head in mild frustration, she said, "I guess I'll just have to keep moving things around until I'm happy with it." She waved the blue clad workers back to their job.

"If I can help you later, let me know."

"Why not now?" she asked, turning large, vivid eyes on Jim.

"Sorry. I've got to get to work," he answered. "Maybe later."

"I'll count on it."

**************

Jim came back into his apartment in time to see Officer Karen Rush hand a tall glass of milk to Blair, who was sitting on the sofa. The young man mumbled his thanks, locking questioning blue eyes on Jim.

"Where did you go?"

"Don't worry, Chief. I was just checking on our new neighbor."

"Oh," he said, exhaustion, pain, and fear evident in his voice. He took a small sip of his drink before putting it on the table.

"She seemed okay to me," Jim said, knowing that the mere mention of a woman would garner more of Blair's attention.

As expected, his roommate eyes flashed with surprise and hormonal interest. "Is she pretty?"

Jim shrugged. "You could say that."

"Does she live alone?"

"It looked like she did. I offered to help her move her furniture around once she got it all in. I'm sure she'd appreciate another set of hands."

Blair's face immediately fell as he tugged on the sling trapping his arm to his chest. "Maybe you and Officer Gawron can help her," he bitterly said, pushing himself off the sofa. "I'm going to get some sleep. Would one of you capable of using both hands help me get this thing off?"

"Blair," Jim started, a gentle touch on his arm stopping him from walking over to his friend.

"I'll be happy to help you," Rush said, quickly removing her hand from Jim's arm. She watched Blair sulk into his room before turning to Jim and saying, "I wouldn't worry about him. He's just scared and feeling sorry for himself. Once this whole thing with Kincaid is taken care of I'm sure he'll be back to his old self."

Jim looked down on the diminutive woman. "Since when did you get a degree in psychology, Rush?"

She laughed softly at his question. "I happen to have a minor in psychology," she stated. "But that's not why I said what I did." When Jim didn't respond she continued quickly, "He's acting just like my brother whenever he gets sick."

Jim chuckled at the officer's comment. "Since you have experience in this area, I'll leave you two alone with your patient. I'm going to the station."

"Tell him first," Rush suggested, tilting her head toward the cloth hanging over the opening to Blair's room. "He'll appreciate it even though he doesn't act like it."

Jim silently agreed as he followed the officer into Blair's room.

**************

"Jim, `bout time you got here!" Simon called from across the room. "I've been trying to reach you."

"Why didn't you call me on the cell?" Jim asked, walking swiftly over to Simon.

"It doesn't work if you don't turn it on," he remarked dryly.

Jim quickly pulled his phone out and checked to see if it was on. "Sorry," he said, thumbing the power button.

"No time for that. I got in touch with a friend of mine in the army. He did some checking and came up with someone who may be working with Kincaid."

"So don't leave me in suspense. Who?"

"Marcus Chandler. You might remember his brother, Grant Chandler," Simon said, walking rapidly to his office.

Jim followed closely, shutting the door behind him. "He was one of the men Kincaid used to take the station, right?"

Simon nodded, taking a seat. "Marcus finished his tour two months ago. I checked with the prison and in the last two months he has visited every weekend."

"Visiting Kincaid?" Jim asked, dropping into the chair in front of Simon's desk.

"Not officially. But Grant and Kincaid were not kept separated."

"You know that information wouldn't stand up in a court of law," Jim needlessly pointed out.

Simon leaned closer to Jim before answering, "True. The man also ranked as an expert marksman and moved to Cascade one month ago."

"Too many coincidences."

Leaning back, the captain said, "I agree."

"Do you have an address?"

"Rhonda's getting it now."

**************

Blair paced slowly around the sofa. His movements taking him dangerously close to the French window that opened onto a balcony. They were also getting on the officers' nerves.

"Why don't you sit down. Try to relax," Karen Rush suggested for the upteenth time.

Mumbling to himself, Blair continued to circle the sofa in ever widening circles. Officer Fred Gawron's temper snapped. Storming over to the petulant anthropologist, he grabbed his healthy arm, dragging him to the sofa.

Forcing the man to sit, he kept his voice low and dangerous as he said, "If you want to die that badly I'll shoot you myself."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Blair gasped.

"There are buildings across the way that can offer a nice vantage point to this apartment, given the right angle," the large man said, poking a meaty finger into Blair's chest. "If you keep walking in front of that window you'll give them the angle they need." Leaning even closer to the startled man he added, "And I don't like it when people ignore my partner. Now apologize to the nice lady."

"That's enough, Gawron. I don't need you to play big brother," Rush said, taking a handful of the larger officer's shirt and pulling him back. "Why don't you step outside and take a look around?"

Gawron jerked around, a protest forming on his lips. The look on Rush's face kept the words from escaping his mouth. He grunted an uneasy acceptance of his superior's orders. Removing his coat from its hook with an angry jerk, he stormed out of the loft.

"Sorry about that," Rush said, sitting down beside Blair and placing a hand on his knee. "Fred can be a bit overbearing sometimes," she said, removing the comforting hand. "Why don't you just sit here and rest. Can I get you something to eat or drink?"

Normally the thought of a pretty woman offering to take care of him would satisfy several of Blair's dreams. Today was different. Today the woman offering to care for him was a cop. She was also under orders from his roommate to take care of him. It all made him want to crawl away somewhere and hide.

"No thanks," he grumbled, pushing himself off the sofa with his good hand. "I'm going to turn on some music."

**************

Jim stood beside a dark brown door bearing the number 601 in green metal. Nodding once to the officers who waited on the other side of the frame, he pounded on the door with his gun, shouting "Police! Open the door!"

He heard the sounds of someone tipping over furniture in their haste to get out of the apartment. Jerking his head toward the door he stepped back quickly, allowing two of the officers to slam into the door. The force of their combined weights shattered the shoddy frame, sending one officer crashing to the floor with the door.

Jim swiftly stepped over the debris in the doorway, barely missing the stunned cop pulling himself to his feet. Moving rapidly, he let his ears lead him to a bedroom near the back of the apartment. He took a quick look inside the room, spotting his suspect trying vainly to open a window that lead to a fire escape.

Swinging into the room, his gun trained on the man trying to escape, he yelled, "Freeze, Chandler!"

The man with light brown hair stopped, slowly straightening while he raised his hands.

"Hands against the window," Jim commanded, pulling his handcuffs off his belt. He quickly moved across the room. Putting the muzzle of his gun against the back of the man's neck, he snapped one cuff against the prisoner's right wrist. Forcefully pulling it behind the man, he slipped his gun into its holster before reaching up to grab the man's other wrist. He swept it down to join the already cuffed wrist, snapping the open cuff shut. Once his wrists were secured he jerked the man around and slammed him against the window, causing the glass to crack.

Jim released his hold on the prisoner in surprise. He stepped back, gasping, "Kincaid?!?"

Kincaid's laughter reverberated through the small bedroom.

**************

The cd dropped from Blair's hand when he heard the sudden sound of gun shots coming from outside the loft. He spun around, racing to the doorway in time to meet Karen at the cloth curtain.

"Wait here," she commanded, turning swiftly on one heal.

Blair watched in startled silence as she quietly opened the door. She crouched low before rapidly moving out into the hallway, leaving Blair alone in the apartment.

Blair released the breath he had been holding and stepped past the curtain. Suddenly realizing he was alone and defenseless, he raced toward the stairs leading to Jim's room. The sling had never been replaced and he hugged his throbbing arm to his side as he ran up the metal staircase.

Reaching the top step he paused briefly, trying to collect his wits and catch his breath. Several shots rang out in the hallway, sending him stumbling to Jim's dresser. He started jerkily pulling open drawers, looking for the spare gun Jim sometimes left in the loft. Desperation filled his head as he opened drawer after drawer, pulling his roommate's clothes out and tossing them to the floor. He jumped when something thumped loudly at his feet. Dropping to his knees, he searched for the object that had fallen, praying to every god he had ever heard of that the sound was caused by a gun. And that the gun was loaded.

His fingers brushed against cold metal. Gasping in relief, he pulled the small revolver out from under a pair of blue, striped boxer shorts. The sound of the door to the loft opening caused Blair to drop to the floor, surpressing a gasp of pain as he landed on his injured arm. He inched to the edge of the floor to peek at the door. Seeing a strange man in dark clothes come through the door, he jerked back.

Blair's eyes jumped around the upstairs bedroom, trying to find a place to hide. His eyes jerked to the cherry armoire twice before he recognized the protection it offered, slim as it may be. Moving as quickly and quietly as possible, he crossed the room and eased open one of the doors. Slipping inside, he pulled the door shut before moving as far back as possible in the inky darkness. With his back against the wall, he brought his knees up to his chest. Using them to prop the gun up, he tried to quiet his breathing and waited for his world to end.

**************

Jim slammed his hands down on the table in the interrogation room, causing a styrofoam cup of coffee to spill some of its contents. "Where's Chandler?"

Kincaid laughed. "You're too late, Ellison. By now Chandler has carried out his orders. Sandburg is dead."

Jim flew across the table, slamming into Kincaid and sending both men crashing to the floor. "You will spend the rest of your life in jail," he said, inches from the prisoner's face.

"A small price to pay to win this particular war. Besides, I escaped once."

"Jim!"

Strong arms pulled him off Kincaid and shoved him across the room. Simon quickly marched over to the detective and warned, "Breaking his neck isn't going to help Sandburg. Now get out of here! Rhonda hasn't been able to get the officers protecting Sandburg. I've got cars on the way there as we speak."

Jim nodded curtly. "Tell them to come in quietly and to hold back till I get there. We don't know what the situation is."

**************

Blair held his breath when he heard the muffled sound of footsteps coming through the armoire door. The sound faded giving him hope that the assassin was leaving the room. His hope were dashed when the footsteps returned, moving toward his hiding place. Blair was steadying the gun when he remembered the safety. Desperately running his fingers over the gun, he tried to remember where the safety was located. Inwardly cursing himself for not paying more attention when Jim showed him the basics about the gun, his fingers found a small metal lever.

His finger pressed against what he hoped was the safety. It quickly changed positions as one of the doors to the armoire was torn open. He quickly moved his finger from the safety to the trigger and he tried to pull the gun up to aim it at the dark form standing in the door way. The movement caused his injured arm to spasm painfully. As his arm went numb the gun slipped out of his hand. It clattered to the floor of the wardrobe cabinet.

Blair slammed his back against the wooden wall as a gun blasted in the confined space. He slid down the wall, two bullets slamming into the wood over his head. Certain that the next bullet would find its mark, he closed his eyes, waiting for the imminent explosion of pain.

**************

Jim exited the elevator alone. Demon-like driving had allowed him to arrive at the apartment complex before the other officers arrived. His eyes fell on the still form of Officer Gawron to the right of the elevator. He didn't hear a heart beat so he moved quietly down the hall. A door opened to his right and he reflexively spun, bringing the gun down and aiming it at the person on the other side of the door.

He jerked the gun back up, recognizing his new neighbor. She brought her hand to her mouth, looking at Jim with wide frightened eyes.

Reaching a trembling hand toward the detective, she said, "I've been hiding in here since I heard the shots. I was hoping you were the police."

"I am," he replied. Nodding his head at the door, he commanded, "Get back in your apartment."

He didn't wait to see if she was following his instructions. He moved quickly but quietly down the hall, stopping next to the crumpled body of Officer Rush beside his open door. Listening to her feeble heart beat, he missed the sound of Megan following quietly up to him. He jerked around when he heard her gasp.

"Is she dead?"

"No. Stay here," he said before leaving the frightened woman kneeling beside the officer as he slid quickly through the door to his apartment.

**************

A gun shot echoed in Blair's head but he didn't feel the expected agony of a bullet tearing through his chest. Opening his eyes, he heard a loud thud and saw the empty doorway.

"Blair!" he heard Jim call.

He melted against the armoire wall. Pushing open the other door he weakly called, "Over here, man."

Jim finished climbing the stairs and swiftly moved across the room to the armoire. He dropped to his knees beside his shaken roommate still slumped against the wooden wall.

"Are you hurt?"

Blair shook his head, relieved laughter forcing its way out of his mouth. Jim attributed his puzzling behavior to shock and waited patiently for the laughter to fade. The young man finally managed to catch his breath and attempted to sit up in the wardrobe cabinet.

Jim helped him sit up but jerked back abruptly when Blair brought the revolver he had taken out of the dresser up from the floor. "Why don't you give me that, Chief," he said, cautiously easing the gun from Blair's hand.

"Gladly," Blair said.

"Ready to get out of there?"

Blair nodded. Jim carefully pulled him up and out of the armoire, maintaining a hold on his uninjured arm until he stood steadily.

"Sorry about the mess."

Jim was about to respond when he heard the sound of a gun cocking on the lower level. He pushed Blair down to the floor before swiftly spinning around. His eyes found the second gunman on the floor below, Megan Parkinson.

Jim and Megan aimed their guns at each other at the same time. Jim zeroed in on her gun and pulled his trigger a fraction of a second before she could do the same thing. His bullet found its mark, slamming into her gun and sending it flying out of her hands.

She watched the gun in stunned silence. Ignoring her aching hands, she quickly reached for the second gun she carried under her shirt.

"Freeze! Don't do it Megan. You won't make it."

She felt the cool metal against her burning hand before slowly pulling her hand away from the gun. She raised both hands, turning her head slightly when she heard a sound behind her.

Jim kept his gun trained on the woman as two officers came into the loft. "Don't forget to read her her rights," he told the men. They rapidly cuffed the woman and dragged her out of the loft.

Turning back to his roommate, he helped him back to his feet. "How's your arm?" he asked when he noticed Blair's shallow complexion and pain filled eyes.

"It hurts."

"Come on. Let's get it checked out."

**************

Blair waited, bouncing on his heels, for the passengers to finish disembarking. Jim silently watched the young man in amusement while he sat in the waiting area. He heard a familiar voice coming out of the hall leading to the plane.

"Here they come," he told his roommate.

Blair looked back at Jim. "Are you sure? Of course you are," he said, turning quickly when he heard his name being called.

Jessie ran over to him, dropping her carry-on luggage beside her. She gave him a gentle hug, trying not to crush his right arm. Omari and Kendra arrived more slowly as Jim stood up.

"Did you have a good flight?" the detective asked the Reddings. They nodded in unison.

"Thanks for picking us up," Omari added.

"No problem."

"So Kincaid's back in jail?" Kendra asked, nervously.

"For a long time," Jim told her, reassuring her fears.

"Jessie," Blair said, "I know you didn't want me to check on the graduation appointments. And I didn't ask," he added quickly when Jessie frowned. "Thackeray called this morning to see how I was doing. He told me who made it into grad school."

"Don't keep us all in suspense, Chief," Jim said when Blair paused, waiting for Jessie to speak.

"You're in."

Jessie whooped for joy and gave Blair another hug. "Sorry," she said, letting go quickly after his sudden intake of breath.

"I think this calls for a celebration," Jim said, herding the group out of the airport.

The End

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