New
Arrivals
Author-Toshua
Titles
When Secrets Fall From the Sky
Part Two
by Toshua
See notes and disclaimers in Part One.
Darkness blanketed their piece of the forest before they had accomplished everything possible to make their camp secure. They found a roll of large trash bags and duct tape under a seat which made dealing with the bodies easier. They used the rotor blades as a slide to lift the two bodies to the top of the fuselage after the bodies were placed inside of large trash bags and taped closed. Then the bodies were secured to the rotor housing on the roof of the fuselage, covered with the rotor blades and split plastic bags, taped in place. Anything that could be used was removed; foam from the seats, tarps found under the floorboards, pieces of rags and a half-used bottle of engine oil. Blair gave an excited cry when a probing hand under the co-pilot's seat came up with the helicopter's emergency locator beacon and two lanterns, with a bag of batteries.
"What did you find?" Jim came from the back of the fuselage, wiping his hands on a rag.
"The emergency beacon. It should have triggered automatically when we crashed." Blair turned it over in his hands, then handed it to Jim. "Can you tell if it's on? Is there a hum, or a vibration, something to indicate it's working?"
Jim turned the cylinder over in his hands, feeling warmth in the casing, but hearing nothing. He handed it back with a shake of his head. "Maybe we just need to put in some batteries."
"If we're lucky." Blair looked Jim up and down. The detective was filthy, streaked with blood from the two fatalities. Sandburg was sure he wasn't any better. "Man, we're covered in blood. How we gonna keep the scent out of the camp?
"We'll have to take our outer clothes off, leave them in a tree or something. Shoes too." Jim looked down at his hiking boots, easily seeing the blood all over them.
"I found several bottles of water. We can take one of the rags and try to clean up a little, toss the rag in with the clothes." They walked back to Simon, who was dozing next to the fire they'd started. The crash landing had provided plenty of firewood of all sizes. Using the long needle covered boughs, a couple of tarps, the foam from the seat cushions and some cargo straps, they'd built a warm, fairly comfortable lean-to. Supplies of food and water would be hoisted into a tree close by before they bedded down for the evening.
The team collapsed next to the fire-ring, and Jim reached for the tin coffeepot they'd found in the survival gear. One of the first things they'd done after getting the fire started was fill the battered pot with water and place it on the rocks. Now the warm water and a rough piece of fairly clean towel helped clean the dried blood off of hands and arms. Jim peeled the heavy sweater off his torso and tossed it into another trash bag. He took his best hiking boots off carefully and tied the laces together, before placing them underneath the sweater. His jeans followed, leaving him in boxer shorts and a tight black tee shirt. He looked at Sandburg and motioned for his partner to do the same.
Blair unbuttoned one flannel shirt and handed it over. That left his long sleeve tee shirt overtop another one. Blair wiggled out of his jeans and folded them, then tied the Nike laces together.
"That's all you get. The bottom layers aren't bloody. And I'll freeze if I strip down as far as you have."
Jim chuckled at his partner while Sandburg made a show of rubbing his arms and shivering. Then he walked gingerly to a large broken tree and tossed the bag with their clothes over a limb.
Blair watched his partner take care of their bloody clothes, then turned to fixing them a small meal and trying to wake Simon enough to eat. Simon was braced against a large tree trunk. The upper half of Simon's mustang suit had been folded into a backrest and Blair's jumpsuit was draped across him. He looked comfortable nestled next to the fire, but every now and then a grimace of pain crossed his face.
Jim flopped down on a rock and accepted the cup of instant coffee, Blair handed him. The sentinel's eyes were on Simon's face.
"I think I need to wake him. He needs to drink something and take some more aspirin. Then we'll move him into the shelter." Jim emptied the coffee cup and handed it back. He watched Blair tear open a pack of rations. "What did you find?"
"Wilson was fond of chicken la king and meatloaf. Thought I'd use the chicken and a little water, heat it up in our only pan. It won't be tasty, but it'll be food. I found packets of salt and pepper, so that should help a little."
"That stuff is salty without adding to it, Chief." Jim frowned at the thought of eating the reconstituted meal.
"I know. But we'll need the energy." Blair emptied the contents into the pan and carefully added some water. Jim took a stick and peeled off the bark, then handed it to Sandburg to stir with. "I found a plastic bag with some knives and forks in one of those bags. No plates, but at least we don't have to eat with our fingers." Blair grinned at his partner and pointed toward a closed bag of supplies.
Jim opened one of the bags of rescued supplies and rummaged around in it. "What's the matter with fingers, Chief? We throwbacks to pre-civilized man eat with them all the time." Jim grinned at his partner, waiting for the smile to wipe the frown off of Blair's face.
Blair mocked growled at Jim, but caught the bag of plastic cutlery when it was tossed at him. He nodded toward Simon.
"See if you can wake him."
Jim nodded and scooted over next to Simon. "Simon, wake up." Jim called his captain's name several times before the big man startled and opened his eyes. Jim stopped the captain from moving to much with a firm hand on Simon's good shoulder.
"It's okay. Everything is all right. Think you can eat something? Drink some water?"
Simon blinked several times, then looked around, his eyes looking owlish in the flickering campfire light. "Yeah, something to drink sounds good."
Jim snatched the water bottle they had been using sparingly and urged Simon to finish it, which he did.
Simon took a look around. While he'd been asleep, a camp had sprung up around him. He was amazed at the changes and the stuff the helicopter had yielded. He saw Blair perched on a rock, stirring a stew or something in a pan with a stick. Behind them, blue tarps and tree limbs made up a lean-to facing the fire.
"How come you guys let me sleep while you did all the work?" Simon leaned in closer to the fire. "Ellison, why are you and Sandburg in your underwear?" Simon's voice started to take on his 'I demand an explanation' growl.
Blair pulled the pan from the fire using the long sleeve of his tee shirt over his hand as a mitt. He dug out three forks and handed them around.
"Eat while it's hot. Simon, you'd better take some more painkillers. That shoulder and your head will keep you up all night if you don't."
Jim scooped up a forkful of the food and stuffed it into his mouth. After a second he nodded to Blair and gave him a so-so wave with his hand. Sandburg followed suit.
Simon looked at the two men, then stuck his own fork into the pan. "Nobody has answered my questions," he grumbled.
"You're injured. The rest will do you some good in the long run." Jim calmly pointed out. "Sandburg and I set up camp, then had to deal with the two bodies. We ended up pretty bloody. Our clothes are in a tree, over there. We don't need any four legged visitors."
Simon nodded. "I feel kinda useless here, guys. I'm not used to having somebody taking over and watching over me."
Both men shrugged. The last of the chicken la king was scraped from the pan and disappeared down three hungry throats. The pan was scraped as clean as possible, then a few drops of leftover coffee was added to the pan, swished around and dumped out. A little more water was added to the pan and it was placed in the coals where it quickly boiled dry and clean. Blair took the clean pan and placed it back in with their supplies.
Jim stood up. He looked at his watch. "9 pm. Chief, you want to tinker with that emergency beacon tonight? Or wait until morning?
"We'll need to head for that trail you spotted as soon as it's light enough to travel." Blair pulled the cylinder into his lap and retrieved his pocket knife from where he had stabbed it into a piece of firewood. He carefully started unscrewing the base of the transmitter. "I hope all it needs is batteries. I found some batteries," he mumbled to himself.
Jim slid a burning log closer to Blair so the man would have a little more light. Then he turned to his commanding officer.
"Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" He knelt next to Simon's knees.
Simon was focused on Blair's busy hands in the flickering light. "What's he doing?"
"Trying to get the emergency beacon working. Might make it easier to find us if we have a signal going."
Simon looked at Jim. "You going to explain how the kid knew how to handle that chopper well enough to keep us from getting killed in the crash?"
"Nah, I think I'll let him explain. Be more fun to watch your reactions. Want some help getting settled for the evening?"
"I'm not helpless, Ellison. Just help me up and point me toward the nearest tree." Simon started making motions to get to his feet and Jim grabbed his good arm. Once Simon was upright and steady on his feet, Jim let him go and grinned to himself as the big man wobbled out of the ring of firelight for a few minutes of privacy. Jim went back to his seat next to his partner.
"Can you fix it?" Jim stirred the fire with a branch, watching the sparks fly up into the dark sky. If not for the circumstances of their arrival, they could've enjoyed this. The campsite was nice, with everything they needed for a few days was on hand.
Blair handed Jim the cylinder. "I changed the batteries and checked the wiring. All you have to do is flip the switch, I hope."
"Why didn't you turn it on?" Jim's fingers were on the switch, but stopped when Sandburg reached over and covered Jim's fingers with his own.
"I was just wondering who would be looking for us and who this signal might bring. You know that the one we took out was just the hired help. The head man is still out there."
Jim nodded. "That's true. But this will only be picked up by a satellite, and bounced to rescue officials. It could be a long hike to civilization. The longer we're out here, the better the other side's chances are of finding us. We aren't equipped for a fire fight, or for bad weather." He turned the transmitter over in his hand and looking into Blair's eyes, flipped the switch. "I think we have to try it."
Blair nodded. "Can you feel if it's working, or hear it?"
"It's getting warm, kinda vibrating. But I don't hear anything."
"Guess we won't know if it's working until rescue shows up." Blair looked up from the transmitter when Simon joined them at the fire. "Simon, you doing okay?"
Simon lowered himself to the ground next to the fire. "I'm okay. The headache's eased up some, and the world isn't spinning anymore." He held his hand to the fire. "Is that the emergency beacon Jim said you were working on? Does it work?"
"It's on. We won't know if it is giving out a signal until help shows up, if it shows up." Jim rested the transmitter next to the fire. "We might as well turn in. Nobody is going to be searching for us until morning."
Simon glanced at the makeshift shelter. "If one of you gentlemen could help me out ..." Simon wobbled to his feet and was immediately supported by his friends. The two men helped Simon to the cushioned fir limbs and draped one of the space blankets over him. Then they made themselves as comfortable as they could, moving pieces of cushions and tree limbs around until they were satisfied.
Jim didn't object when Blair nestled against him, turning so they could share the space blanket and a little warmth. Then he draped the other blanket over them, tucking it behind his back and legs. He reached around, found one branch with lots of needles and pulled that more or less over all of them, holding the thin covering closer and adding one more layer of insulation.
Blair put his head on Jim's arm and one arm tucked against Jim's stomach. "I don't know about you, but I'm warm." He mumbled into the muscular chest.
Jim chuckled a little as he tried to find a position that wouldn't kill his hips against the hard ground. "You're always the one complaining that you're cold."
"Huh uh. Good thing you're such a furnace." Blair wiggled around, digging a rock from under his butt.
Simon grumbled at them. "I hope you two are going to settle down some time soon. Morning is going to come early."
"Night, Simon." Blair giggled then took a couple of deep breaths, trying to relax.
"Night." Jim murmured, then mentally set his internal alarm clock to wake up every half hour to listen to their surroundings.
((((((((((
Sentinel eyes greeted the first light of dawn as they scanned the landscape while enhanced ears listened for any sound of civilization. The night had passed uneventfully. He had awakened during the night, spiraling out his hearing as he listened to the old forest around them. He'd smiled at the night bird sounds and the occasional large animal noises. His two companions had slept through the night undisturbed. Jim stretched his back a little and tried to get some feeling back into the arm that Sandburg had used as a pillow most of the night. He slithered out from under the make shift bedding and headed for the bushes. He went back to their shelter when he heard Simon moan and stir.
Jim knelt down and gently pulled the space blanket away from his commanding officer and helped Simon sit up.
"How are you feeling this morning, Simon?" Jim studied Simon's face carefully, trying to determine if the older man's eyes were focusing evenly.
"How do you think I feel this morning? I feel like an old man who slept on the ground and survived a helicopter crash." Simon growled at his detective, even as he reached for the hand that was there to help him to his feet.
Jim pulled his captain to his feet and steadied him with a hand under the elbow. "Well, at least you survived the crash."
Simon groaned, then reached for his back and tried to straightened out, slowly. "Yeah, well, tell it to my back." Simon took a few steps, then shrugged off Ellison's hand. "Wouldn't have a cup of coffee somewhere, would you?"
Jim grinned. "Yeah, I think I can find us some coffee." He tapped Simon on the shoulder, then turned back to the campfire where their small coffee pot nestled in the coals. Their limited supplies would only last a day or two, including the water, unless they found a stream nearby. Until they ran out of water, they would have coffee. As he carefully spooned in a small heap of coffee grounds, he listened to Blair's heartbeat increase from sleeping to waking. He turned and watched as his partner crawled out from under the combination of space blankets and branches. Jim couldn't help but shake his head as his best friend stretched, scratched, and yawned.
Sandburg looked at his smirking roommate and mock growled at him before finding his clothes and trudging off into the bushes for a little privacy.
"There better not be any poison ivy in these parts." Blair mumbled for his Sentinel's ears as he stomped away. "Or bears either."
Jim was still chuckling when Simon carefully lowered himself down next to his detective and accepted the tin cup full of the steaming brew. Simon inhaled the aroma, then sipped. He grimaced at the black liquid.
"When we get back to civilization, I will personally take you to the best coffee shop in town and buy you anything you want. Maybe then you will learn to appreciate a decent cup of coffee."
Blair returned in time to hear the last comment. He flopped down next to Jim. "When we get back to civilization, I'll take you up on that, Simon."
Breakfast consisted of a granola bar, a handful trail mix that didn't look too ancient and the last of the coffee. Blair pulled out the aerial chart he had rescued from the pilot's bag and spread it out on the ground next to the fire ring.
Jim looked it over. He had found a hiker's compass in the bag of survival gear, and aligned the compass and chart to North. He finally pointed at a river and traced it toward Rainier.
"We crossed this river on our way to the safe house. But I don't think we crossed it on our way back. If we were paralleling it, it means we're somewhere in this area." He used a stick to trace a large circle on the map. He looked at his companions. "Which means there is nothing between here and the river but trees. Unless we find that logging road I thought I saw."
Simon looked around them at the deep forest. "Isn't there some rule about never leaving the crash site?"
"That's the common rule-of-thumb. A wreck is usually visible from the air and if the ELT is working, a signal is being generated for a search plane to trace." Jim nodded to his captain. Jim tossed the stick into the fire. "However, we have a disadvantage most crash victims don't have. There may be someone on our trail that doesn't want us to be found. If they get to us first, our rescuers may find themselves in a fire fight."
Simon looked at Sandburg. "Do you think that is working?" He pointed toward the beacon, which was resting against a rock.
Blair rocked his shoulders. "If it is, we'll know when a search plane flies over. If it's not --," he shrugged again, the answer obvious with his silence.
Simon looked around them. "Maybe we ought to stay close to the crash. If we don't spot a search plane by midday, we'll start trying to hike out." Simon looked at his two men, asking their agreement rather then ordering it.
Both men nodded. Blair pulled the bag of survival gear to him and rummaged through it. He pulled a flare gun and a couple of flares from the bag and handed them to Simon. He didn't say anything to Simon as he handed over the weapon and Simon didn't ask why.
Jim studied the map closely, then looked around them. "I'm going to see what is around us. If you need me, yell. I won't be out of earshot." He left the fire and crawled into their shelter where he retrieved his gun. He tucked the gun into his waist at the back and came back. He took the map and compass. He folded the map into a bundle small enough to fit into a back pocket of his jeans and palmed the small compass.
"I'll be back in an hour, or sooner." Jim studied the faces in front of him. He tapped Blair on the arm gently and nodded toward Simon. Sandburg understood the silent request and nodded an acknowledgment.
The two men remaining in camp watched Jim disappear into the underbrush. As soon as he was out of sight, Simon looked at Sandburg who was still staring after Ellison.
"How do you feel this morning, Blair?"
Blair looked at the large black man critically. The cut on Simon's forehead and eyebrow was crusty with dried blood and even the dark skin didn't hide the bruising. The left shoulder looked swollen under the heavy sweatshirt.
"Better than you, I think. We still have some aspirin. I think you should take a couple and lie down until Jim comes back.
"You didn't answer me, Sandburg." Simon attempted to growl, but it didn't quite make it.
"A little sore. I've got a headache, but nothing bad. I can handle it." Sandburg got up. "Come on. I'll help you get comfortable."
Simon accepted the offer of a hand up. "I don't see how lying on the ground is supposed to be comfortable," he grumbled.
"I'll see what I can do." Blair rearranged the pieces of foam and pine branches, piling them deeper for the injured man to recline on. Then Sandburg helped Simon get comfortable again and handed him aspirin and water.
Simon handed the water bottle back after a sip just large enough to swallow the tablets. Then he pointed at the aspirin bottle. "Be sure you take a couple yourself."
Blair glared at the police captain, but shook two into his palm and gulped them down. Simon's voice stopped him from returning to the fire and building it up again.
"How did you land that helicopter, Blair?"
"I didn't land it, it crashed." Sandburg plopped down on a branch and draped a space blanket around his shoulders.
"It crashed because it was shot up." Simon held up a hand when Blair's mouth opened to interrupt.
"I don't know what to do to make it auto rotate down. Jim doesn't know. But you did. How did you know, Sandburg?"
Sandburg looked at his friend's face. Yes, he considered Simon a friend. A superior in lots of areas, but a friend as well, even a father figure at times. So why was it so hard to tell him the truth about an insignificant piece of his life? Was he embarrassed, or ashamed, over staying silent for so many years? Or was it because he didn't think anyone would believe him?
"Would you believe I read about it in a book?"
"No." Simon's voice booked no argument.
"Took flying lessons?"
"Nope." Simon slowly shook his head, then cinched his eyes closed against the pain the movement caused.
"It was an instinctive reaction?"
"Try again."
Sandburg smiled a little. "Guess I ran out of answers."
"The truth, Sandburg." The voice was a growl that time."
Blair took a deep breath, let it out and tried to sound nonchalant about the past he was about to reveal.
"While I was in the Army, I was stationed in the Persian Gulf -"
Simon's hand came up again. "Sandburg, I said, the truth! Not some cockamamie story!"
"This is the truth, Simon. If you don't believe me, ask Jim. He's seen the proof."
"Go on."
"I was stationed in the Persian Gulf during Desert Storm. I was an Apache mechanic. While I was over there, I had to learn emergency techniques, like how to land a damaged helo' if I had to. I learned it well, memorized the book. I'm scared of heights, Simon. There is a reason for that."
Blair settled deeper into the pine boughs and told his story. His fingers braided long pine needles into a chain without consciously noticing his actions. His story to Simon was about the same version he'd told Jim.
Simon listened to Blair's story, finally straining his hearing as Sandburg's voice got softer and softer. He had watched the Gulf War with fascination. He'd been thankful that Daryl had been too young to be exposed to the fighting. He looked at Sandburg with new eyes.
"You're a man of many faces, Blair Sandburg."
Blair shrugged. "No more than Jim or yourself. You were military, now you're a cop. You were married, now you're divorced. You're a father." He looked up from his busy fingers. "Twenty years ago, would you have imagined being the captain of a police division, divorced with a teenage son?"
Simon shook his head.
"Fifteen years ago, I wouldn't have imagined that I would have my master's degree, working with the police department or have a Sentinel as a companion.
They were interrupted by Jim trotting out of the forest. The cop was watching the sky. He called to Sandburg.
"I hear a chopper. You and Simon stay under cover. Toss me the flare gun."
Sandburg tossed the gun to Jim. Jim caught the gun on the run then he headed back into the undergrowth. Blair crawled out of the shelter and grabbed branches for camouflage. He draped them across the blue tarps and had the tarps completely covered before he heard the 'whump-whump' of the rotor blades. He ducked back into the lean-to, sprawled on his stomach, and looked out, studying the sky. After a few moments, the helicopter came into sight, too high for Sandburg to identify.
Jim Ellison watched the helicopter as it appeared above the trees. One part of his mind acknowledged that the appearance of the helicopter meant the emergency beacon was working. The other part of his mind worried that the beacon would bring more than rescue. If the helicopter overhead was not a rescue vehicle, he was working out an escape plan. In the few minutes he had spent scouting the area, he'd determined that it would be difficult to land a 'copter close by. That would work to their advantage if they had to run and hide out until real rescue arrived. His finger tightened on the trigger of the flare gun and he waited, as patient as a cat in front of a mouse hole.
A yellow and red Griffin appeared over the trees, moving slowly. Jim zoomed in with his sight and easily read RESCUE across the bottom of the aircraft. He also saw the emblem on the shoulder of one blue jacket. The emblem identified the wearer as a paramedic. Jim's finger twitched on the trigger of the plastic gun and a red parachute flare arched skyward.
The helicopter immediately stopped its pass over Jim's position, then came back. It took a few minutes before the pilot spotted the fuselage on the ground and began hovering over it. A rope ladder rapidly unrolled its way to the ground
Jim reached the ladder by the time the medic had started his climb down the swaying ladder. Jim grabbed the bottom rung and held it steady. Sandburg ran from the shelter and grabbed hold of the ladder as well. Then he let go to catch a bag of medical supplies that was being lowered by a second rope. The paramedic touched down and turned to Jim. He was younger than Ellison, a little shorter, and a little out of breath.
"You all right?" he yelled over the helicopter noise while he pointed to Jim and Blair, motioning 'thumbs up', or 'thumbs down.'
Jim and Blair both nodded. Jim turned the paramedic and pointed toward the lean-to.
The medic nodded, and grabbed his bag of supplies from Blair's arms. He unzipped it and took out a hand-held radio. Before he could use it, Jim snatched it from his hands and pointed toward the lean-to again. Sandburg grabbed the medic's arm and started dragging him toward Simon.
Jim turned on the radio and looked up at the pilot. He shook the ladder and pointed skyward. The pilot gave him a thumbs up and the ladder started rising as another occupant of the rescue helicopter started to pull it up.
"This is Detective Ellison. Can you hear me?" Jim shouted into the radio.
"Five by five, Detective. What is your status?" The pilot's voice crackled across the radio.
"Two dead, one injury, but not bad. Who is on board with you?"
"One FBI agent and another medic. The FBI demanded to be in the first search chopper."
"There's a landing spot about a quarter mile northeast of here. Let me talk to Mulroney."
The chopper was already veering off, looking for the clear area. Jim heard the mic being handed over.
"Ellison, what's the status of my witness? Is she all right?" Mulroney's voice fairly bellowed over the speaker.
"She's dead, Mulroney. We were followed. If I were you, I'd be careful on how you broadcast our location when you call off the search. There's bound to be unfriendly ears listening."
"Why did you crash? What about the pilot?" Mulroney's bellow lessened some.
"He's dead. We were shot down, Mulroney. You'll find the other 'copter near a cliff back along our flight path." Jim walked back toward the shelter, the radio held close to his mouth. "Stay put when you land. We'll come to you."
The pilot's voice came back. "Detective Ellison, I've got that cleared area spotted and I'm setting down."
"Good. Keep it ready to take off. If you can, call in some armed support. I won't be a bit surprised if we meet unfriendlies in the sky between here and Cascade."
"Copy, Detective Ellison."
Jim ducked under the tarp and glanced at Sandburg who was packing supplies into one of the gear bags rescued from their ill fated helicopter. He retrieved Jim's mustang suit and his own. The fire was out and wet.
Jim looked at the paramedic and Simon. "Ready for a walk, Simon? How is he?" he asked the medic.
"Considering the looks of that helo, he's good. The concussion will make him a little wobbly and shaky for awhile. You popped the shoulder back in and immobilized it fairly well. The head wound needs a few stitches, but you pulled it closed with bandaids so I'd leave it alone." He nodded at Ellison. "Good job."
Jim nodded. "The rescue chopper set down in a clearing a little ways to the northeast. We'll hike out and leave the beacon here. That way the coroners' office can get up here and get the bodies.
Blair slid into his jumpsuit as Jim talked, then started breaking down the lean-to. He placed the pine limbs over the fire ring in case a hiker wandered by and would appreciate dry wood for kindling. One blue tarp came down and was folded neatly and stuffed back into the gear bag.
Jim and the medic lifted Simon to his feet. As the two men helped Simon out of the shelter, Sandburg grabbed the pieces of foam and vinyl and threw them into a pile. The other tarp came down and was stuffed in with the first one. Simon watched Sandburg pack up the camp with efficient actions. The younger man trotted the pieces stripped from the upholstery into the stripped fuselage.
"Blair, leave everything but the survival gear. If we crash again, well, we'll worry about it then. I'm more worried about what fire power we might run into." Jim called as he helped Simon into the red jumpsuit and wrapped the sleeves around the black man's waist. While the jumpsuits weren't needed, the insulation and warmth they provided made the trips in the helicopter more comfortable.
It only took a few minutes to evacuate the makeshift camp and start toward the clearing and the Griffin helicopter.
Jim led the way, breaking trail for Simon and the medic. Sandburg brought up the rear, the canvas gear bag over his shoulder. The foodstuffs they had considered so important hours ago were now left next to the fire ring, zipped in the other bag. Whoever retrieved the bodies could finish cleaning the campsite. The medic stuck close to Simon, keeping an eye on the older man in case the head injury caused a problem as they trekked into the forest.
Jim was on full alert, his enhanced senses humming along his nerves. His hearing caught the voices on the radio at the helicopter as Agent Mulroney growled to his people in the other aircraft involved in the search. His nose smelled the forest, each individual scent of the people with him, the smell of the cooling helicopter engine and the dried blood on the jumpsuit he and Sandburg wore. His sight mapped the path in the forest, easily seeing his footsteps in the muskeg and leaves from his earlier exploration. The air brushed over his skin and he sensed the temperature and moisture in the air, picking up the differences in the air Simon and the medic exhaled as they walked behind him.
Jim almost stopped in his tracks when he realized that right now, at this moment, he was a Sentinel, doing automatically what a Sentinel must have done for thousands of years. He was leading his small tribe to safety, watching and listening for danger, every sense thrumming through him. And his Guide was bringing up the rear, watching his partner's back, checking to see that no one was left behind, guarding the path they had come from, ready to give warning. Jim smiled to himself. He would have to tell his friend about his realization. Sandburg would be elated. Jim promised himself he would share these thoughts when they were safely home, over a cold beer. The sentinel broke through the undergrowth to the clearing and the helicopter. He held branches to one side as the medic led Simon into the clearing, while he scanned the area, alert for trouble.
The helicopter was nestled into the clearing, the rotor blades barely clearing the trees. The remaining medic left the helicopter and darted to his partner's side and Simon. Mulroney paced back and forth in front of the large aircraft, his eyes continually scanning the sky.
Jim heard another helicopter approaching and the whine of a small plane further away. He stopped Blair before Sandburg stepped into the clearing. Sandburg didn't argue or question his partner. He looked at Jim's face which was turned toward the rain threatening sky.
"What do you hear?" Sandburg whispered.
"A helicopter and a plane. The pilot of our chopper is on the radio. The plane is part of the search group, the helicopter isn't. Our pilot is trying to contact the helicopter."
"Is Mulroney worried?"
Jim glanced at his partner. "Oh yeah, Chief. He's real worried. His heartbeat is through the roof."
"What do we do?"
"Consolidate our weapons and hide until we see who the helicopter belongs to. If the aircraft is just something innocent, we take off, go home. If it's an unfriendly, we have a better chance in the woods. There isn't enough room for another helicopter to land here. I don't know how far the next clearing is."
Jim led the way out of the brush, his ears tracking the aircraft in the sky. He raised the pilot on his radio and told him his suspicions. "Get your gear and get clear of the helicopter, pilot. If there are any weapons on board, grab them."
His words galvanized the man sitting in the pilot seat. Jim saw him reach around and grab a rifle case and a canvas bag. Both items were tossed out and the pilot rolled out behind them.
"Simon, take cover!" Jim yelled as he trotted toward his commanding officer. Blair was beside him, his stride matching his sentinel's.
Simon looked up when Jim yelled his name and saw Sandburg being pushed toward the trees by his partner. Banks didn't hesitate. He grabbed a medic with one hand and pushed him toward the forest's edge, then he snagged the second medic and shoved him after the first. Then Simon followed.
Jim ran to the pilot and picked up the rifle case. He tossed the case to the pilot, pointed toward Simon's retreating back. Then he turned to the FBI agent who was watching the actions around him with an open mouth.
Jim yelled at Mulroney. "Unless you want to be a sitting duck, I suggest you head for the trees."
Mulroney joined Ellison. "What's going on?"
"There's a chopper heading our way that's not part of the search effort. You want to take a chance that it's not hostile?" They ducked into the undergrowth and joined the others.
Mulroney grabbed at Ellison. "How do you know there is a chopper up there?"
Ellison was spared having to answer when the distinct sound of rotor blades penetrated the forest silence. The helicopter came in at tree top level, slowly.
Ellison looked at their pilot. "How much detail did you give out on your radio transmission?"
The pilot shook his head, his eyes on the hovering whirley-bird. "Not much, just that we'd located the downed aircraft and were landing to check for survivors."
Ellison nodded. He was intent on the bubble chopper, which contained a pilot and one other. The 'copter turned slowly and Ellison saw the gunman hanging from the passenger seat, one foot on the skid. A high powered rifle rested in the pair of gloved hands attached to the man in camouflage.
The rifle from the case miraculously appeared in Ellison's hands. The detective rose from behind the brush he'd chosen for cover and let the airborne assassin see the red jumpsuit.
The small two man helicopter dropped lower and the assassin raised the rifle to fire.
Ellison fired first and watched the shooter fall back into the cockpit. The 'copter spun around and accelerated away, gaining altitude as it went.
Their pilot shot past Ellison and dashed to the rescue chopper. He grabbed the microphone and started broadcasting the information about the other helicopter and instructing everyone in the area to intercept it and track it.
Jim lowered the rifle from his shoulder and looked around, then tucked it into the crook of his arm. Sandburg stood at his left shoulder, slightly behind Jim, Simon's pistol in his guide's hand. Simon was leaning on one of the medics, his eyes not quite focused. The other medic's eyes were on Ellison.
"That was one hell of a shot, Detective Ellison. What are you, a sniper?"
Jim handed Sandburg the rifle. "Sometimes." He looked at Sandburg, then Simon. "I think it's safe. Let's go home."
Sandburg patted Jim on the back, then knelt and placed the rifle in its case. Mulroney frowned at Ellison, then turned his frown on Banks. He pushed his way between Ellison and Sandburg and stomped toward the waiting helicopter, his trenchcoat flapping around his knees.
Blair handed Jim the rifle case, then draped the gear bag over his shoulder. He waited until Jim began to walk toward the helicopter before he left the shelter of the shoulder high bushes.
The Sentinel and Guide followed the small group to the helicopter, Jim turning in 360s several times as they walked, scanning their surroundings.
"Do you think we can make it to Cascade without anymore trouble?" Sandburg paused as Jim surveyed their surroundings again.
"I don't know. It depends if the other helicopter radioed our position to whoever is chasing us." He slid the rife case under the back seat of the helicopter, then helped Sandburg secure the survival gear in the cargo compartment under the tail boom.
The medics helped Simon up onto the rear bench and strapped him in. Simon grumbled at the overly cautious medics as they slid an air splint over his arm and strapped the arm to his chest.
This helicopter was larger than the one they'd crashed. It was equipped with wide runners and medical equipment strapped to the interior walls. Folded gurneys were webbed into the ceiling and net bags containing blankets, pillows, body bags, and tarps kept the gurneys company.
Ellison and Sandburg climbed onto the bench facing Simon and the medics. Mulroney climbed into the co-pilot seat.
Ellison leaned back so he could talk to the pilot. "Once we're airborne, call in the other search planes or helicopters and have them take up positions around us. If that chopper got off a radio call, there may be a couple more surprises between us and Cascade."
The pilot nodded, then said, "The other 'copter ran for the mountains. The search and rescue crews lost it."
The helicopter lifted off and started toward the city. Two other helicopters joined up with them and a Piper kept pace. Ellison pulled on a headset and listened to the radio traffic going on between their pilot and the aircraft around them. After a moment, he pulled the headset off and hung it back on a hook. Sandburg followed his partner's motions and asked what was happening with a raised eyebrow. Jim shook his head then pulled Blair close to his side and wrapped an arm around the younger man's shoulders,
"We've done all we can do." Jim whispered into a curl covered ear. "Rest while you can. Mulroney will be crazy when we land."
Blair nodded. He closed his eyes and relaxed against the strong shoulder.
Jim's arm tightened across Sandburg's back, then he rested his head against the side of the fuselage and closed his eyes. He finally truly relaxed for the first time since the simple witness babysitting job started. Between the FBI agent, and the aircraft pacing them, surely it was secure enough to go off alert for a little while.
Simon watched as Ellison relaxed against the bulkhead, his partner tucked securely under his arm. The police captain smiled to himself. In repose, both men revealed so much more to the people watching them, then they ever would awake. As different as the two men were on the outside, it was obvious that they were two halves of the same coin if someone took the time to get to know them. They balanced each other, reinforced each other and protected each other in the face of adversity.
Then he looked at the medics on either side of him. They were watching the pair on the other seat, too. Simon glared at both of them, diverting their attention from his team.
"If you ask them, they'll deny it, but they're both banged up. They were too worried about me to worry about themselves."
"How did you get into this situation, anyway?" The older paramedic asked.
Simon leaned back a little and tried to ease his aching back. "It started when I got a call from the FBI..."
########
The sudden cessation of movement when the helicopter touched down startled Ellison awake. He looked around quickly, ears immediately tagging Sandburg's and Simon's heartbeats. They had landed on top of Cascade's Police Department building and an anxious group of Major Crime detectives were waiting. Jim nudged Blair with an arm.
The other man opened his eyes and stretched, blinking. "Did we make it without anyone else shooting at us?" He looked around and saw the city skyline stretching out from the building.
"Looks that way." Simon commented. "We even have a welcoming committee." The captain pointed at the detectives waiting for the rotor blades to stop turning.
Ellison unbuckled his seat belt and slid open the door. He hopped down to the concrete and turned toward Blair. Sandburg accepted the help down, chuckling as Jim grabbed him around the waist and slowed his leap to the roof.
The medics were out next, then they reached for Simon. By the time the police captain had disembarked, all of Major Crime were gathering around them, demanding explanations.
It were the paramedics who silenced the demanding detectives. They looked at the rescued. "We seriously recommend a trip to the hospital for all of you, particularly you, Captain Banks. That shoulder should be x-rayed and you have a concussion."
"It can wait until after they are debriefed." Mulroney charged in, pushing his way through the detectives. "My witness is dead, so is the pilot we hired. Did you get the evidence she had? Did she tell you anything?"
Ellison glanced at his partner then drew one fist up. Before he let fly at the agent, Sandburg grabbed the clinched fist and pulled it down. Jim relaxed under Blair's hand, and his fist uncurled, the fingers enfolding the guide's for a moment.
"We've got your evidence." Jim snarled. "But you've got a real problem with keeping secrets." Together, Ellison and Sandburg opened the cargo department and pulled out the canvas bag they had rescued from the other helicopter. Blair unzipped it and rummaged through everything until he found the purse containing the zip drive and disks. He tossed it to the FBI agent.
"Here. Hope you get your man. Hope it was worth her death." Sandburg's voice was as bleak as Ellison's had been angry.
Then the three missing members of Major Crime were swallowed up by their colleagues and swept into the police building, leaving the others behind on the roof.
The End