New
Arrivals
Author-Amanda
Titles
Nimrod
by Amanda
Disclaimer: Sentinel characters and locations herein belong to Pet Fly and not me. Rated: PG.
(Nimrod: Hunter)
Captain Simon Banks slammed his phone into its cradle. At the noise, a man poked his head around the open door. Joel Taggart.
“Anything wrong?”
Simon rubbed his eyes. “Ellison in yet?”
“No. What’s up?” Taggart walked into the captain’s office. The bomb squad captain could tell his friend was not happy. Banks had yet to look up at him. He kept rubbing his eyes, almost as if it could ward off what was about to happen or make it go away.
“Word gets around, my friend, word gets around. Tell him to see me when you spot him.”
“Sure, Simon.”
Simon looked at the empty doorway when Joel walked away. He couldn’t believe the phonecall he’d just had. Why couldn’t these people leave them alone? Ellison was going to be severely pissed. He could hear Taggert’s voice outside and knew the man he was dreading talking to had arrived.
“You wanted to see me, Captain?” Ellison’s face grinned at him. The detective took in the dour expression on the big man’s face. Uh Oh.
“Yeah, sit down please, Jim. We have a problem. Where’s Sandburg.”
“He’ll be here soon. Didn’t have time for breakfast, he’s gone to get some muffins.”
Simon looked at his detective, unsure of how to broach the subject. Jim waited patiently for his captain to speak. Jim didn’t bother to use his senses on his captain, he could tell the big man wasn’t happy about something. It didn’t take a genius to ascertain that Jim wasn’t going to like it.
“Jim, the feds have requested help on a case they’re working on. They intend one of us to help them and I’m not sure you’re going to be too happy about it.”
“Aww, damn it, Simon. You know I hate working with those.... What’s it for anyway?”
“A kidnapping. Won’t tell me yet what. Agent Jacob is on his way to explain it in more detail to us.” Simon mentally prepared himself for Ellison’s outburst. He wasn’t disappointed.
“Jacob! That lunatic? I won’t work with him, Simon!”
“It gets worse, Jim. They don’t want you. They want....”
“Muffins anyone!”
Ellison snapped his head around to see Sandburg sweep through the door with a large paper bag. The young man walked over to the spare chair and dropped the muffins on Simon’s desk, likewise dropping his butt in the second guest chair. He smiled at each of them in turn and only then noticed their sour countenances. He realised he must have come in at a very inopportune moment. His smile faded.
“Umm, sorry, Simon. I’ve come in at a bad time? I’ll take those away.” He grabbed the bag and began to stand.
Jim grabbed his Guide’s hand, crushing the muffins under it. He glared at Simon.
“Sandburg? He wants Sandburg?”
Simon put up his hands hoping to placate the increasing anger emanating from Ellison. “I don’t know the whole story yet, Jim. Wait for Jacob to get here.”
“Jim Jim Jim?” Blair panted.
“What!”
“Can I have my hand back, man. You’re crushing it.”
Jim released his hand. “Sorry. He’s not helping them, Simon. He’s a civilian. They can’t demand he help them....”
“Help who?” Blair rubbed his fingers absently, intrigued by whatever matter they were discussing obviously involving him.
“No one. Nothing. Wait outside for me, Blair.”
“But....”
“Wait outside for me!” Jim bellowed, the tone leaving very little room for argument.
Blair flinched at the shout and stared at Jim in disbelief, embarrassed before Simon. He thought it prudent to leave at that point and walked to the door. A man blocked his way.
“Mr Sandburg, isn’t it?” The man held out his hand.
Blair looked at it and automatically shook it. The man positively screamed FBI. The dark suit and short cropped hair giving it away. Blair had an inkling why Jim was upset. He hated it when the feds poked their long noses into things. Blair could see Jim and Simon standing. He decided to continue his way out of the office but Jacob hadn’t let go of his hand. Blair tried to extricate it. No luck.
“I’m Agent Jacob. I’ll be working with you on this.”
“Umm, with me? I’m sorry, you must mean working with them.” He pointed at Jim and Simon.
Jacob looked at the two angry men. “Uh, no, I don't believe so. We’ve requested your help in this matter, Mr Sandburg.” Jacob smiled his most polite smile, intending to put his Mr Sandburg at ease. Jacob had a lot to learn, Blair had the disconcerting feeling he was being reeled in.
Simon interjected before Ellison could muster his forces. “Agent Jacob. Please take a seat. We’ve not had a chance to explain to Mr Sandburg what’s happened.”
“Oh, my apologies. You must think me mad. I’ll try and explain all that I’m released to.” He finally released Blair’s hand and the young man, not wanting to appear rude, fought the urge to wipe it on his jeans.
Jim frowned. “Nothing to tell. He’s not helping you.”
Jacob turned and graced Ellison with a dead smile. “Detective Ellison. It’s been a while.”
Simon had to admire the man’s ability to remain standing while being given the deadly Ellison glare. Lesser men would have paled a few shades lighter. But, of course, for it to work the victim had to have a sense of mortality. Jacob seemed to think himself invincible which was the main reason Ellison didn’t trust him.
Jacob didn’t have time for this. He removed a sheaf of papers from his coat and tossed them onto Simon’s desk. “The request from my....department to yours. We require Mr Sandburg’s help in this matter, nothing more. We approached Ranier to request an anthropologist and they suggested Mr Sandburg here, seeing how he was already involved with the police in some small way.”
“Help with what, exactly?” Simon was also tiring of the dancing.
“Missing artifacts. From Britain, I believe. The anthropologist bringing them over here was abducted and his museum pieces with him. We’ve recovered one of them at a sort of black market jumble sale so we know he’s still in the country.”
“Who was it?” Blair interrupted.
“A man by the name of Windsor.”
Blair choked. “Dudley Windsor? Professor Emeritus Dudley Windsor of Cambridge University?”
Jacob smiled. “That’d be him.”
“Shit,” Blair muttered.
“So....give, Blair” Simon prodded.
“He’s one of Britain’s leading anthropologists on ancient cultures. Primarily the ancient britons. Why take him? Why not just take the artifacts?”
“That’s what we’re hoping you can tell us, Mr Sandburg,” Jacob said.
“I’m not that well versed on his area of study, really. But I’ll do my best.”
Ellison stood. “Like hell, you will!”
Blair stared at him, unsure of why Jim was so vehemently opposed to this. Simon intercepted his detective’s stalk toward Jacob.
“Agent Jacob, please wait outside a moment.” Simon pushed Jim back into the chair. “Blair. Sit.”
The FBI man left and closed the door behind him. Blair chanced a look at Jim and saw the Sentinel watching him furiously. Ellison’s glare softened. It wasn’t Blair’s fault, he didn’t warrant his anger. Blair managed a small smile when he saw his friend’s face relax.
“Jacob has lost two partners,” Jim explained, “he’s not careful with those around him. I don’t want you to be the one to bear the brunt of his carelessness.”
Blair nodded, satisfied with Jim’s explanation. “Why don’t you help, too? Two hands are better than one. C’mon, Jim. Cops always help other cops, I feel the same way with Professor Windsor.”
“We can make that part of the deal, Jim. You go or no one goes,” Simon suggested.
Ellison shook his head and then looked at his partner. Blair’s eyes were in pleading mode.
Ah, shit, thought Ellison.
**********
North Cascades National Park. A beautiful place by anyone’s standards. Blair’s mind was taken off the mind-boggling boring trip by the trees that zipped passed their car. He concentrated on ignoring Jim most of the trip. The anger could be felt dripping from the detective. Blair shared the back seat with him while Agents Jacob and Davids shared the driving. Davids was in his early 30’s, clean cut and as stiff as Jacob. Jacob, Blair estimated, was close to 40. Both men lived for the Bureau. Blair thought they ought to get a life.
Ellison shifted next to him, jostling Blair. The young man dragged his gaze from the forest and looked at him. The Ford sedan they travelled in was standard FBI issue, easily seating three in the back but Jim had managed to spread out and take up most of the space anyway. Blair could have sworn that, although Jim wasn’t looking at him now, he had done it on purpose. He sighed and looked away from the annoyed detective and back at his trees.
He had started reading up on Professor Windsor, what little he managed to find anyway before they were whisked off. He also managed to grab some literature on the professor’s studies of ancient britons. But the movement of the car and reading gave him motion sickness so he had to put them away. Agent Jacob had said that the ‘fence’ they had bought the artifact from had eventually told them he bought it himself from a man inside North Cacades National Park. They had contacted the Head Ranger who told them he had found something similar in his park. Their only lead.
He put his head back against the headrest and close his eyes. Jim’s arm thumped him again and he rolled his head to look at the detective. Blair could just make out a slight smile of amusement on Jim’s face as the big man looked out the window at the forest. Jim was obviously determined that if he wasn’t going to rest, then neither was Blair. Blair hit him back and looked quickly out the window himself.
Jim jerked his head around. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, junior,” he growled quietly. He hit Blair’s arm again.
Blair hit him back. Jim struggled to bury his smile as he glared at his friend. He raised his hand again.
Blair waved him down. “Stop it. Stop it.” He looked at the two agents in the front seat. It wouldn’t do for them to be reprimanded for mucking about in the back seat. Blair could almost hear Agent Jacob now, Don’t make me come back there! He stifled a chuckle and pushed Jim’s hand away again.
Ellison sobered and left his partner alone. It had worked, anyway. Blair didn’t seem tired anymore. The anthropologist would remain awake until they reached Ranger Headquarters, still an hour’s drive away.
It was nightfall by the time they reached the Ranger’s Station. Blair shouldered his back-pack and followed Jim into the front door. The door opened to reveal an man in his sixties. The Head Ranger stepped aside and allowed them admittance.
“Evening, gentlemen, been expecting you hours ago.”
“My apologies, we were late leaving.” Jacob shook the older man’s hand and then introduced himself and the others.
“Pleased to meet you. The name’s Geoff Isaak. You may want to stay here tonight. You won’t get far in the dark, not in that car. I’ve only two extra beds, so you’ll have to share.”
“I’ll stay in the car,” Davids said. One of the few things Blair and Jim had heard him utter. He was a sullen young man and Blair had given up on any conversation with him early in their jaunt.
Jacob didn’t disagree with him. “That’ll be fine, Mr Isaak. Thank you. Do you have that object you found the other day?”
The ranger waved at them to put their bags down. “Sure, I’ll go get it.”
Blair dropped his pack on the floor. The Ranger Station was quite large. Half of the front room, where they now stood, was devoted to souvenirs. Blair took a bag of nuts from his pack and, munching away, walked to the glass cabinets to survey the goods. A coke machine stood in one corner and he fumbled in his pockets. Jim joined him, handing him some coins. Jim leant on the glass souvenir cabinet and wondered if they needed any fridge magnets. Blair took a sip of coke and handed the can to Jim. Jim pointed out the magnets to Blair who just sighed at him and shook his head.
Jacob watched them enviously. His musing was interrupted by Isaak returning with the main reason they were there. Jacob called Blair over to him.
Jacob sat at the table in the middle of the room and placed what he had carefully onto it. Blair waited for someone to unwrap it and, none forthcoming, carefully removed the old cloth himself. He revealed an old piece of flint stone. Wow, he mouthed.
Jim frowned. His friend was impressed by very little. “A rock.”
Blair looked at him. “No, Jim. Not just a rock. A flint knife blade. Probably thousands of years old. The handle would have rotted a long time ago leaving only the blade. Where did you find this?”
It looked like a rock to Isaak, too. “On the main road in here. The road goes straight through the middle of the park. I wouldn’t have stopped only I could see it was wrapped up and thought it might be something. When Agent Jacob here called me about lost artifacts I thought he better see this one.”
Agent Jacob sat back in his chair, pleased with himself. “We think the perpetrators are somewhere in this National Park.”
“It’s a big place,” Isaak offered, “you’ll be hard pressed to find anything in here on foot. One of my rangers has just left on a week’s trek by 4WD and that’ll only take him into the accessible parts of the park.”
“We’ve already had air support go over. We’ve narrowed it down to a few places we’d like to check. Can we borrow your vehicle?” Jacob asked.
Isaak didn’t looked pleased. “If you must. I want it back in one piece.”
Blair carefully re-wrapped the flint blade and, for want of a better place, put it in his pack. Davids retired to the car with a mumbled goodnight and the others followed Isaak to the guest rooms. Jacob took one and Jim and Blair the other.
“You can have the bed, Chief, I’ll take the floor.”
“We can share if you want. It’s a bit bigger than a single.”
“Nah, it’s OK.” Ellison spread the sleeping bag given him by Isaak on the floor next to the bed, deciding to sleep on top of it. Blair was asleep in seconds and didn’t wake until Ellison shook him awake the next morning.
Blair wandered out into the main room, his arms wrapped about him against the morning chill. Isaak was just coming in from outside and smiled at him. The ranger dropped the wood he was carrying into a large wicker basket. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and his long arms were tanned and gnarled.
“Want some breakfast? Just gonna make some eggs.”
Blair smiled. “Mmm, that’d be great. I’m starved.”
“OK, just let me get the fire started again.” Isaak enjoyed having company. Within ten minutes he had eggs, toast and coffee on the table and Blair engaged in conversation.
Jim came into the room carrying Blair’s pack and joined them. Jacob and Davids had already eaten and were outside checking Isaak’s 4WD. Isaak’s son was at university studying Business and he was happy to listen to Blair’s version of university life. Jim offered to clean up after the quickly consumed breakfast but Isaak waved him off, telling them that the FBI agents were becoming impatient. Blair and Jim said their goodbyes, Jim leaving Simon’s phone number with the park ranger because he never left anything to chance.
An hour into the trip and Jim was bored again. Much to Blair’s annoyance, the back seat of the old Landcruiser was even smaller than the sedan. Jim’s jostling began again in ernest, resulting in Blair being pressed up against the opposite wall to escape the elbows. A bored Sentinel was an awful thing to behold. Blair decided to use Jim’s captivity to his advantage.
Sentinel soft he spoke, “Look outside. Can you see any animals.”
“Not now, Chief.”
Again, softly, “Can you think of anything better to do?”
Jim shrugged imperceptibly and looked out the window. The landcruiser was travelling at a fair clip and focusing on one patch of forest wasn’t easy. But then Blair rarely liked the tests to be easy. Jim picked up hundreds of animals watching the vehicle as it disturbed their quiet home. He quietly rattled them all off for Blair, just saying ‘animal’ if he didn’t recognise it quickly enough.
The landcruiser rolled to a stop. Jacob unfolded the map and he and Davids discussed where they were headed. Jim listened in on them. Davids wrenched the steering wheel about and plunged the 4WD off the main road and onto one of the tracks. Despite the seatbelt, Blair’s head hit the roof at the unexpected change of direction and he yelped. Jacob looked back at him with a muttered ‘Sorry’. Blair glared at him. Jim rubbed his partner’s head where he’d impacted.
Jacob shouted above the din caused by the hurtling landcruiser, “Air support spotted vehicles not far from this track. Too many to be ranger transportation. Whatever’s going on is banking on not being spotted easily in such dense forest. I don’t get why they’d take Windsor. Would the artifacts themselves be worth anything, Mr Sandburg?”
“Only to a museum,” Blair shouted back, “but I don’t what else he carried with him. Certainly jewellery or gold coins might be worth something, but not that much.”
Jim grimaced at the shouting back and forth. Blair noticed his discomfort. “Dial it down, Jim,” he whispered.
“Maybe it’s Windsor himself,” Jacob continued to shout at them, “but, to my knowledge, no ransom demand has been made so far. People are rather embarrassed at him going missing. He was requested to visit by several prominent universities, yours included, Mr Sandburg.”
Blair had no answer. He couldn’t imagine why Windsor had been kidnapped. The man had to be over sixty years old. An Emeritus Professor, retired, but retained by Cambridge for his expertise. The landcruiser continued to bounce along at an alarming speed. Jim couldn’t help but admire Davids’ driving.
The bullet that shattered the windscreen showered the two in the front seat with glass. Blair ducked in his seat, Jim on top of him as the landcruiser leapt off the track and, with a screech of metal that almost drove Jim into unconsciousness, slid over onto its back to rest at the bottom of a ravine.
Jim forced himself to open his eyes against the fog that theatened to put him under.
Danger nearby.
The Sentinel had to get himself and his partner away from it. He could hear Blair moaning and raised his head. The world was upside down and he realised the 4WD was resting on its roof. Kicking his door open he slid out and leant back into the cabin to pull on Blair’s arms. The young man moaned again. Once he had him out of the wreck he could spare no time checking for injuries. Ignoring his own pain he hefted his senseless friend over his shoulder and prepared to disappear into the undergrowth.
His path was blocked by two men. Two men with very big guns. He froze in place. One of the men went to the landcruiser to inspect the two in what was left of the front seat. The man knelt and inspected the driver. Davids was impaled on the steering column, dead. The man grasped the remaining agent and hauled him out the front window. Jacob managed to sit up, stunned. He wiped blood from his eyes and stare at their attackers. The man pushed the muzzle of his gun into the agent’s cheek.
“Get up. Those that can’t walk will be shot and left.”
Jacob managed to sway his torpid way to his feet. He looked back at Davids and swallowed. He then took in Ellison, Sandburg’s motionless form still over his shoulder. The expression on Ellison’s face confused him. Complete, unutterable rage. The two men pointed the direction they were to go and they had no choice but to comply.
**********
Simon called Joel Taggert into his office. The big man seated himself and watched Simon leave his desk and close the door. Simon didn’t usually shut his door unless it was important.
“We may have trouble, Joel. That was the North Cascades National Park Ranger on the phone. Jim’s little FBI party left his station two days ago and haven’t checked in yet. They’re almost 24 hours overdue and he thought it best to phone me. Jim apparently left my number with him.”
“Do we call in the FBI, Simon?”
“Odds are they already know. I’m headed up there anyway. Want in?”
“You betcha.”
Simon booked one of the departments 4WD’s and within a half hour he and Joel were on the road.
**********
Jim pounded at the door again. The place was built like a bunker and the metal door didn’t allow much noise through. He’d been in darkness since the day before, not that it meant much to him. But he’d been separated from Blair when they first entered the complex and he was frantic with worry. He imagined that Blair and Jacob had been placed in similar accommodation. He could make out his Guide’s heartbeat but it was punctuated with periods of rest and then panic. He hoped it was just Blair’s imagination getting the better of him in his cell and that his young Guide wasn’t in any danger. He could also make out at least fifteen other heartbeats, one which had to be Jacob. That left fourteen unfriendlies to deal with. And Jim didn’t doubt for an instant that he wouldn’t be dealing with them sometime in the near future. He tried to keep his anger in check. Cool and deadly would serve their chances of survival better.
His repeated calls through the door went ignored. Once again he surveyed his cell in total darkness, the small sliver of light coming from under the door being enough for his excellent sight to work. Once again he inspected every corner of his small cell hoping to find a weakness. There was no furniture except for an old mattress and a toilet.
The next day they bothered to give him some food and water. Two men moved him up against the far wall, keeping him at bay with their guns, while they placed the plate and cup on the cellfloor. They ignored his questions about the others. They left him darkness again. He focused his hearing as he knew they still stood outside.
“Travis should hunt him, instead. He’d give him a better run for his money than the little hippy.”
Jim threw himself against the door again and screamed at them. He allowed himself a glimmer of satisfaction when he heard their hearts increase in fear he could break through the door. He heard the two men move off quickly and sank to the floor in dejection. Hunt Blair. What was happening? He rested his head against the cool concrete and stared again at the names he had found scratched into the wall. He now understood their meaning.
Peter Watson 1955 - 1996
Henry Jackson 1971 - 1996
John Helden 1962 - 1996
Lawrence Jarre 1975 - 1997
Dr Dudley Windsor 1935 - not bloody likely
Jim had to smile at that one. Each name was in a different man’s handwriting as though the men themselves had scratched it into the walls when they knew it was their last night. A macabre epitaph started by Peter Watson in 1996 and followed by the others. Windsor had obviously thought it a sick tradition and had no intention of playing. Jim hoped similar names didn’t appear on the walls of Blair’s cell. He closed his eyes and thought of his partner alone and terrified in some part of the complex looking on the names of dead men.
Jim’s internal clock told him that six hours had passed. He jerked his head up at a familiar voice outside his cell. Simon.
“SIMON!”
“JIM!”
At last, he thought. Help has arrived. He heard a scuffle outside his door but not the type of sound he wanted to hear. Simon was being dragged down the corridor past his cell. His captain had been caught as well. Jim could hear Taggert’s voice shouting abuse at someone as the big man was also dragged past. He sank to the floor again, his head resting on his crossed arms.
**********
“Welcome, Captain Banks.”
Simon winked his bruised eye at the man seated behind the desk. Taggert was pushed into a chair but Simon remained standing. His hands were bound behind him and his damaged eye noticed movement beside the bastard sitting in the chair. Blair. The young man was chained by his hands to the leg of the desk like the man’s pet.
“You know each other.” The man’s hand slipped down to pet Blair’s hair. The young man didn’t even protest or shrug him off. Blair looked beyond exhaustion and Simon tried to read the half closed eyes that seemed to refuse to look at him directly.
“Blair?”
Taggert heard the name and stood, looking around the desk, shocked to see Blair for himself. “What have you done to him, you bastard.”
“Nothing. Yet. He makes a good pet, don’t you think? Had to knock some sense into him at first but he came around. He’s a very stubborn young man, you know. We have another of your men in a cell. Ellison. He’ll be good. But you and my little pet are first.”
Simon glared at the man. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Neil Travis. Pleased to meet you. Despite you two not being hunters it’ll be good practice anyway. I can tell Ellison won’t be easy. I’m saving him until last.”
“For what?” Simon spat.
“Why, a man hunt. I like to hunt men. Hobby of mine.” Travis smiled at him benignly.
“You’re insane.”
Travis’ smile didn’t waver. “Hmmm, it helps. I hunt big game hunters. Bagged myself eight already. The last one was Dr Windsor. An old man but one of the greatest big game hunters Africa’s ever seen. Until me, of course. I had no idea so many would be looking for him.”
Simon could make out a grimace flit across Blair’s bruised face. He mustn’t have known about Windsor. Travis smiled down at Blair again and stroked his hair. Blair finally looked at Simon, the hatred coming from the cool blue eyes surprising the captain.
“Of course, this is only a hobby for me. I have a much more lucrative business on the side, hidden nicely within the park. I arrange for the big game hunters to visit me or I just extend an invitation they can’t refuse. You,” he looked at Joel, “will be staying here. You’ll be too easy to catch.”
Travis waved at his men standing nearby and they uncuffed Blair from the table and walked him, unresisting, to Simon. Untying Simon they then produced a set of cuffs with a two foot chain, closing one over Blair’s wrist and then his own. Simon watched Blair closely, the young man was evidently too exhausted and too battered to give much of a fight.
“I didn’t mention that my favourite movie is The Defiant Ones. Great movie. I have a weird sense of humour. Hope you two get along better than they did, you may stand a chance. Take them to lock-up, We’ll start in the morning.”
Travis indicated to his men and they stepped up to the two prisoners and led them out of the room.
**********
Jim levered himself to his feet as he heard the key turn in the lock. A large frame blocked the light and Taggert was pushed into the cell. The big man grasped Jim’s shoulders.
“We have to get out of here, Jim. That madman’s going to hunt Simon and Blair.”
“Calm down. Tell me all you know.”
**********
Simon tested his cuffs again, not prepared to give up on them just yet. Blair, sitting next to him on the cold floor, watched him silently. He hadn’t eaten anything since the day before and he could feel himself becoming very tired. The coldness of the floor was seeping through his jeans and he hugged his arms about himself to ward it off. Simon threw up his hands in disgust. Blair yelped when the sudden movement tugged the cuff about his sore wrist.
“What?” Simon asked.
“Nothing.” Blair tried to draw his hand away when Simon grabbed it. The captain drew back his shirt sleeve and bit back his anger at the angry red wound he had exposed.
“What the hell happened here, Sandburg!”
“They got us a couple of days ago. Shot out the windscreen of the car. Davids is dead. Jim and Jacob are somewhere here with us. I haven’t seen either of them since they got us.”
“OK, that was my next question. What I meant was, what happened to you?”
“Oh,” Blair looked away from him, thankful for the near darkness. “You saw. Travis decided to keep me as a pet. He thought it very funny, so did his men. When I wouldn’t sit next to his chair he tied me to it. He....beat me up a few times. One time he couldn’t be bothered and got his man to do it.”
Simon grew angrier by the moment. He had seen the huge son-of-a-bitch that served as Travis’ second in command. He tilted Blair’s face away to better examine the bruises. The young man had been beaten badly, and these were the bruises he could see.
“I’m sorry, Blair.”
Blair nodded. “Gutless men always pick on those smaller than them. He’s a viscious bastard. He means to hunt us, Simon.”
Simon lay his hand on Blair’s shoulder. “I know, son. We’ll get out of this one, I promise you that. I have no intention of becoming a trophy to that loser.”
Blair couldn’t manage a smile, his mind played back the laughter of Travis’ men when he was being ‘domesticated’ as Travis had called it. He hugged himself again and lay down, despite the coldness pressed against him. Simon knew that the young man’s mental pain was probably outweighing his physical pain. It didn’t make sense, Sandburg would have to be the least threatening of them all and yet Travis had decided to physically abuse him rather than any of them. Although Simon hadn’t seen Jim or Jacob he was pretty sure they hadn’t been treated like Sandburg. This further attested to Travis’ insanity. The man was basically a coward and, in some cases, cowards could be more dangerous.
Simon’s head jerked up from the cell floor when the key turned in the lock. Blair’s response was one of frantically jumping to his feet. Simon placed a calming hand on his shoulder but the young man flinched away from it, still mindful of his throbbing wrist. It was morning and their day of horror was due to start.
“Come with us,” came the growl.
Simon exited the cell, holding Blair behind him. They squinted in the morning light streaming through the high windows that lined the corridors. Two men marched them to the front doors of the building where Travis stood waiting for them.
“Morning, gentlemen. Hope you slept well. I’ll give you an hour’s start.”
**********
Simon pulled up, dragging Blair to a stop with him. They both sagged to the ground in exhaustion. It felt like they had running for hours but was actually twenty minutes at most. Simon tried to form two words but was too out of breath. Despite being more muscular and larger, Simon knew Blair to be more fit than he. This probably accounted for why Blair could outrun him on even a bad day, less weight to carry. He could also tell by the look in the young man’s eyes that he had the added incentive of being hunted quarry to lend speed to his agile feet. The young police observer had seen a harrowing couple of days but was far from done yet. Blair waited for him to recover. He had a question himself anyway.
“What’s The Defiant Ones?”
Simon frowned, only then remembering Travis’ words of the night before. “Movie,” Simon gasped, “Sidney Poitier and Tony Curtis. Two escaped convicts chained together running from the law.”
“Funny ha ha,” Blair grumbled, “I guess I’m Tony Curtis, then.”
“Well, I ain’t.” Simon pushed himself up. He started to run again.
“Whoa whoa whoa! Where we going anyway?” Blair latched his hand around the cuff to cushion his throbbing wrist and pulled him to a halt. He’d been happy for Simon to take the lead at first but, the run having cleared his head slightly, he began to weigh their options more carefully.
Simon didn’t have an answer. He just planned to outdistance their hunter. “Ranger station?”
“No, Simon. The safest place is back where we came from.”
The police captain looked at him as though he were mad. “And how do you figure that?”
Blair thought it prudent to explain himself. “Jim. We’re safer with Jim. If we can get back in we can find him. He’s covert ops, remember? Kill a man with a look type stuff.”
“Blair, how many men did you see there?” Simon glanced about the surrounding forest and listened for any threat. They would likely not get fair warning when their hunters were drawing near.
Blair angled his head in the taller man’s face trying to gain Simon’s attention. “About a dozen. Face it, Simon. The safest place is standing next to Jim. Travis wan’t expect us to backtrack back to the complex.”
Simon couldn’t fault the logic of that. He spared the young man one more doubtful look before bounding off into the trees intending to widen their run into a circle and double back to the complex. They made it erratic enough to have their pursuers think they just had a lousy sense of direction and were not headed back the way they had come. No point alerting them to their plan early.
Simon shook his head. Kill a man with a look type stuff? Where did the kid dig them up?
**********
Ellison had just killed his third man and maimed his fifth by the time Taggert found Jacob. The FBI agent was in bad shape, having been left in his cell since the first day without his injuries tended to. He was feverish and only partly conscious. Ellison decided to leave him where he was, informing Taggert to remain and care for him while he rid the complex of the rest of the vermin.
Taggert watched the detective run out of the cell. The past ten minutes had been a bloody blur. Their food was being delivered when Jim had attacked. Despite a bullet grazing his thigh he still managed to kill both men. Taggert then followed him on a bloody rampage through the complex. Not one man survived unscathed. Taggert gave a brief thought to the term unecessary force but deigned to not mention it at one look from Ellison. He knew the man to be hunting for Blair and didn’t intend raining on his parade.
He could hear gunfire as Ellison cut a swathe through those stupid enough to remain and stand against him. Taggert next heard absolute silence and knew the enemy still remaining in the complex was either dead or out of commission.
Simon and Blair had already been taken from the complex for the hunt over an hour ago. Taggert hoped they were still running because it wouldn’t take long for Ellison to catch up to the big game hunter and snap his neck.
**********
Blair yelped as Simon stumbled and rolled down an embankment, dragging him with him. The younger man had seen the danger but didn’t have enough bulk to stop someone of Simon’s size from running headlong into it. They grunted as they came to a stop at its bottom. Simon lay still for a moment, taking stock of any damage sustained. Blair did likewise. His wrist ached abominably and he thought it broken. Simon finally sat up. He took stock of any injuries to himself and, finding none, looked to his partner in flight.
“Blair, you OK?” Simon didn’t like the pallor of the face across from him.
“I think I sprained my wrist. I don’t think it’s broken.” Blair’s face was screwed up in pain. He couldn’t believe the week he was having. He could feel the damp earth creeping through his clothes. Cold and miserable is my world, he thought. His pain filled mind dredged up memories of over a year ago, being chased through the woods by hicks. Maybe I should get a nice quiet job with the Foreign Legion.
Simon sat him up. “Show me.” Simon reached for the sleeve, drawing it back.
“Ow ow ow.” Blair shoved his hand away, impatient and terse in his pain. “Don't worry. We gotta keep moving. Gotta get to Jim.”
Simon helped him to his feet. The kid’s determination to get back to Ellison bordered on obsession. Their wide circle had taken them longer and he just hoped they were headed in the right direction. They’d been running for almost an hour now and both were close to dropping. The added difficulty of being strung together making their progress even more time consuming and requiring more effort. Simon braced his partner in flight against the wall of the embankment, hearing the other hiss in pain as his wrist was moved.
Sound behind him froze him in place. Shielding Blair from their hunters he stared up the embankment into Travis’ cold eyes.
“Looks like I win, gentlemen.”
Travis had one of his men with him. The huge thug that liked to beat up on smaller anthropologists. Both levelled guns down at them. Both men had disgustingly smug smiles on their faces. Simon wanted to erase those smiles, but somehow he didn’t think he was going to get his chance.
“Not really a good run. Only three hours. Next time I won’t bother attaching two men together. Takes all the fun out of it.” Travis hefted his rifle for emphasis.
“He’s hurt. Take him back with you,” Simon growled.
“I don't leave wounded behind, Captain Banks. In fact, I don't leave healthy behind, either. Face it, I’ll shoot anything.” The rifle was raised. “Goodbye, gentlemen.”
Blair grabbed his captain’s arm, trying to stay upright. For some reason Blair found himself concentrating on the distant sounds of unseen birds. He tried to let their singing lull him in what he suspected were his final moments. He closed his eyes and was comforted by the warmth seeping through his friend’s sleeve, the feel of the muscled arm beneath it. He knew Simon was trying to guard him against the death that stood only feet away. Simon would be shot first and then he would be the next to die. He hoped it would be quick.
Simon remained Blair’s shield as the gun was levelled at them. He knew the shot would take him in the chest and then Blair would be next. Behind him he reached for, and grasped, the kid’s good hand tightly. He felt Blair’s forehead lean into his back. Sorry, Daryl, Jim.
The black blur that barrelled into the two men from the side was so quick that Simon wasn’t certain it was human. He heard Blair whisper something behind him. Jim.
Crackkk. That unmistakable, vile noise sounded as Travis’ man’s neck was broken. Travis barely had time to regain his feet before Ellison was on him. The two of them rolled into Simon and Blair’s ravine, Simon shoving Blair out of the way of the fighting men. Simon watched in horror as Travis seemed to gain the upper hand and slam Ellison onto his back into the soft ground, landing backwards across the Sentinel. Ellison’s arms wrapped themselves around Travis’ head. It was over in seconds. Travis was similarly treated to a broken neck. Simon noticed neither man was smiling now.
Jim crawled out from underneath the body of his enemy and kicked it away in dismissal. Simon sat Blair down and went to help his detective. But Jim twisted out of his way with a quickly muttered “You OK, Simon?” and threw himself down beside his wounded Guide.
“You OK? Show me.”
Simon shook his head as Blair handed his wounded wrist over to his Sentinel without hesitation. Simon checked the two men were really dead while Sentinel and Guide each checked the other was alright.
“Where’s Taggert?”
Ellison tore his shirt sleeve away and commenced binding the abused wrist. “Still at the compound with Jacob. He doesn’t look too good. He must have been injured when they totalled our car.”
“The other men?”
Jim’s face was tight with concentration as he tended his friend. “Dealt with,” was all he said.
Simon didn’t press any further. He watched the big hands gently work on the wrist. Hands that had just snapped two grown men’s necks like twigs. Hands that now worked with infinite care.
**********
By the time they got back to the compound Taggert had secured the living men, leaving one free to drag the bodies of those foolish to have gotten in Ellison’s way into the compound’s yard. Four dead, eight injured. Simon didn’t think he’d have to drag Ellison’s butt out of the fire over this one. Every man he had confronted had a weapon, himself being unarmed. On their way back to the compound Simon had asked him about the dead and injured. Ellison had seemed confused by the question. He couldn’t really remember much of it but he did remember he hadn’t taken any of the guns to use himself.
“That would only have warned them I was there,” he answered, frowning at Simon, surely that was reason enough.
Simon catalogued the cold logic away for later thought. The Sentinel had moved like silent death through the early morning light, only engaging in a fight with a weapon with the last two men remaining, the need for silence no longer needed. He had known how many were around by their heartbeats, having already discounted Taggert and Jacob.
Blair had looked at him with a hugely silly grin on his face. The Sentinel had run through the compound as quiet as a cat, keeping tabs on Taggert and Jacob to make sure no heartbeats belonging to hostiles went near them, and using those heartbeats to track his quarry. Blair almost wished Travis had got a chance to hunt Jim. The nutcase wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes.
**********
Taggert took Jacob back to the Ranger’s station to contact the outside world while the other three remained behind. Jim returned into the forest to retrieve the bodies of Travis and his man. He would have preferred to leave them there for any animals to have a nibble on but Simon’s expression had pretty much said he would brook no argument and he had complied. Simon turned his eyes heavenward at the sight of his detective, returning twenty minutes later, dragging them back by their ankles. Blair had remained silent through the whole procedure, something neither Jim nor Simon missed.
Simon took Jim aside. “Travis and that other you killed, I think, abused him quite badly, Jim. He was quite humiliated by it.”
Jim explained that he knew, Taggert having told him during their incarceration. He assured Simon they would deal with it. Simon watched as the detective approached the quiet young man still recovering from quite a shocking few days.
He had known. Simon didn’t doubt he now knew the reason for Ellison’s deadly retribution. He would also find out in the course of the next few days that the nice little business that Travis had going involved a quite lucrative crop of illegal weed. A crop hidden by the dense canopy of the old growth forest. The inordinately large number of men, they’d had the misfortune of encountering, being there because the operation was being pulled out and moved again.
Travis’ little hobby had been going on for some years. Another small compound was found some twenty miles away, with names also found scratched into the cement wall. By the names he had hunted a total of nine men. Their bodies would take a while to find. Ellison offered his services once they’d had a chance to recover. He doubted they would be found too far from the two compounds.
**********
Simon unfolded his long legs in the front seat of the FBI car that had finally come to pick them up. He used the rearview mirror to check on his two men. Jim and Blair sat in the back seat. seat. Jim had put his arm across the younger man's shoulders and jiggled him to attention. Blair opened half shut eyes.
“What? What?”
“You OK, Junior?”
“M’fine.”
“What you feel like for dinner tonight?”
“You woke me up to ask that? Jim, I could even eat the crap you’re so fond of.”
“Wonderburger it is, then!”
“Whatever....ouch!”
Ellison looked at him in feigned innocence. Blair jabbed him back. The Sentinel jabbed him again in the ribs.
“Stop that....eeep! Simon!” Blair called.
“What’s going on back there?”
“Nothing, Simon. The kid’s making it up.”
Simon looked again in the mirror and saw Ellison’s big hand move around the anthropologist’s shoulder and over his face to clamp his mouth shut. The large hand virtually obscured Blair’s face. From the squirming going on he could tell that Ellison was getting in a few good tickles.
“Ellison! I’ll make you sit in the front if you don’t behave!”
The big hand dropped away and Blair, stifling a laugh, pushed him away with his good arm. “So there!”
Ellison smirked and looked out the window of the car which had started to take them back home. The kid was beginning to heal. He’d give him an hour or so and then he’d start annoying him again. After all, unless you were the one doing the driving, car trips could get awfully boring.
FINIS