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Disclaimer:
See part one.
Chapter Five"How's he holding up?"
Blair paused in his constant litany to his partner, and looked at Simon as the captain came in.
"No change, which is actually a good thing, considering. A good turn at this point would actually scare me to death."
"Why's that?"
"Because I'd be afraid of what came next." At Simon's uncomprehending look, he elaborated. "Haven't you heard that saying, 'They get better just before they die.'?"
Simon nodded hesitantly. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"
"I've seen it happen too many times not to. So forgive me if I'm glad Jim hasn't made any sudden turns for the better."
The captain didn't answer. Instead he said, "We should have the antivenin by mid-morning tomorrow."
Blair's eyes widened. "How'd you manage that?"
For a moment, Simon's Chesire grin lit his dark face. "Dr. Margulies pulled some strings. I pulled some strings. In the end, we owe most of our thanks to Prince Al Saud."
"Al Saud? Why?"
"Using his rank and diplomatic influence, he managed to get one of his country's military planes to shuttle it. And, because one of their planes will be flying into our air space, one of ours will be escorting it."
"Cool. But I don't understand. Why is Al Saud helping us?"
"I told you he had offered to cooperate fully with our investigation, right?"
"Yeah?"
"He was actually quite upset by the duplicity of his own guards and their part in what happened to Jim. When he heard we needed antivenin serum from his country, he insisted on arranging transport. He said it was in the interest of keeping America as his country's ally. A few phone calls later, everything was arranged."
"Do you think he's on the level?" Blair asked pointedly.
"Sandburg, what bug's got up your butt? You're not usually this cynical."
"Hey, I'm just trying to make sure we don't get burned."
Simon nodded. "I understand, but at this point, we don't have much choice. Jim needs that serum as soon as we can possibly get it. Besides, some bigwigs in Washington approved it."
Blair's eyes widened again, but he didn't comment. Instead, he changed the topic. "What did Brown and the others find at the motel?"
"Plenty," Simon answered, moving to sit in the remaining chair. "The room is registered to a John Smith."
Blair snorted. "Original."
Simon only nodded in agreement. "The clerk in the office described him as about your height, dark-complected, dark-haired, dark-eyes, slender but muscular build."
"Middle Eastern?"
Again, Simon nodded. "That's my guess. Fortunately, Brown and the others got there before the room had been cleaned. There was quite a bit of forensic evidence."
When Simon didn't continue, Blair looked at him in concern. "What is it, Captain? What'd they find?"
The big man scowled for a moment, then reluctantly continued. "They found blood stains and plenty of hair samples. We'll have to wait for the DNA tests to see if any of them match our two dead bodies, or Jim.
"Interestingly, Jim's wallet--the one with his undercover ID--and his pistol were discovered under the bed. But the truly disturbing bit of evidence was the newspaper clipping wadded up in the trash can. It was old, and looked like it came from an Army newsletter or something. It had a group photo in it. Jim's face was circled. It looked like it was from some Army training course. The caption listed their names, but no ranks."
"So, whoever this guy is, he knew Jim's real name, and might even know him from the Army. What's his beef with Jim?"
"I don't know, Sandburg, why don't we call him up and ask him?" Simon said acerbically.
Before Blair could respond, Simon waved a hand. "I'm sorry, Sandburg. I know you're just wondering."
Blair shrugged, accepting the apology.
"One last thing. It looks like the cord from the drapes might have been what was used to strangle Jim. There were traces of blood and hair found on it, too."
"Well, I guess we know where they took Jim, huh?"
"It looks like it. Unfortunately, until and unless the DNA tests come back with a match, it's all circumstantial. We think our Mr. Smith will come back, so I've set up round-the-clock surveillance on the place. Hopefully, our suspect will return soon."
Chapter Six
Blair set down the book he'd been reading to Jim. He shifted and stretched in his chair, trying to relieve the stiffness in his back and shoulders. Glancing at the clock, he smiled without amusement. Two AM.
"Hey, Jim, you know what? Twenty-four hours ago I was hopping into Simon's car, rushing to get here. Seems like a lifetime, man. I'm glad you're still with me. Only a few more hours until that antivenin gets here. Hang in there, Jim. Hang in there." Blair shifted his touch on Jim's wrist, never having relinquished that hold for more than a few minutes since his partner had slipped into the coma.
"Haven't heard anything from Simon, so I assume they're still watching the motel."
Blair paused in his litany to study Jim's still form. The bruises on his friend's face and neck were a deep purplish blue. Jim's face was still swollen, making it look round and puffy. Some of the burns had blistered, and all were protected by burn ointment.
His gaze traveled to the heart monitor. The numbers there weren't too encouraging. Jim's heart rate was still elevated, his blood pressure dangerously high. He knew the doctors were worried about cerebral infarction and thrombosis. They had taken preventative measures, of course, and so far the therapy seemed to be working. He hoped it would continue to.
Blair picked up the Grisham novel, and began reading quietly again to his comatose partner.
Hours later, Blair looked up from his reading as Simon stepped into the room.
"Hey, Simon, I was beginning to wonder about you," he greeted.
"Morning, Sandburg. The day got off to a busy start. How's he doing?" Simon asked.
Blair slumped, gazing at his partner. "He's slipping away, Simon. His last EEG reading showed a significant decrease in brain-wave activity. I'm praying he'll hold on long enough for that serum to get here."
Simon's voice was filled with concern and regret. "I'm praying for that too, Blair, but it might not be enough."
Blair closed his eyes, feeling the stinging pressure of tears that he refused to shed. "I know, Simon," he whispered hoarsely. "But I refuse to think about that possibility. It's unacceptable."
There was silence between the men for a moment. Blair forced the bleak thoughts away, and gave the captain a weary smile.
"Anything new with the investigation? How's the stakeout coming?"
"The stakeout is over. Our suspect made an appearance," Simon answered.
"You don't sound too happy. Did he get away?"
"No. He opened fire on Brown and Rafe as they approached the room. Brown took a bullet in the shoulder, and Rafe got shot in the leg. The guy made a run for it, but fortunately backup arrived. He tried getting away through the woods, but they managed to catch him when he ran into a dead end. He couldn't climb the ridge so he turned and opened fire. He killed a uniform and grazed Taggert before Conner and one of the other uniforms managed to take him out."
Blair stared at Simon in horror.
"Is everyone going to be all right?"
There was just a hint of a smile on the captain's face as he clasped Blair's shoulder. "Everyone's going to be fine. Brown's in surgery now. The doctors tell me they expect him to make a full recovery."
Blair sighed in relief. "Great. What about the suspect?"
"Dead."
Blair nodded, not surprised by this answer.
"Do you know who he was?"
"Not yet. His ID and passport both said 'John Smith'. We had Al Saud take a look at the body. He recognized him as a man who had joined his staff about two months ago, as a driver. The name the suspect gave him was Abram Imaudi. We're waiting for fingerprint ID from the Feds."
Again, Blair nodded. "Certainly doesn't get us any closer to why, does it?"
"No, it doesn't," Simon agreed. "Listen, I'm going to go check on Brown and the others. I'll be back after a while."
"Yeah, go ahead. Tell everyone to take it easy."
Simon gripped his shoulder briefly, looked at Ellison's still figure for a moment and left the room.
Chapter Seven
"Sandburg, the plane just landed. As soon as they clear customs a police chopper will transport the serum here. I'd say less than an hour." Simon burst into Jim's room.
Blair quickly recovered from his startlement, and grinned. The first in more than a day. "That's great, Simon!" He looked at the silent figure of his partner. "Hear that, Jim? It won't be much longer, and you'll have the antivenin. Just a bit longer, Jim. Just hold on a bit longer."
"Listen to him, Ellison. It won't be long now, and you'll be back on the road to recovery," Simon added.
"Has Dr. Margulies been notified?"
"Yes. I did that before coming here."
Blair nodded tensely, rubbing Jim's forearm. Whether to soothe Jim or himself, he wasn't sure.
Over the course of the next forty some odd minutes Jim's room became a hive of activity as things were readied for the antivenin's arrival. Nurses came in about every fifteen minutes to check Jim's vitals. A lab tech showed up to draw more blood for tests, and one of the nurses brought in a sterile wrapped tray containing syringes.
Finally, Dr. Margulies appeared. "Captain Banks, Mr. Sandburg," he greeted as he went to his patient. Accepting the chart a nurse handed him, he spent several moments looking it over before he closed it and acknowledged Blair and Simon again. "I've been informed that the antivenin has arrived. It should be here in a few minutes."
"Thank God," Simon said fervently.
Blair nodded emphatically in agreement, whispering to his partner, "It's almost here, man. Almost."
"I'm afraid the news here isn't so good."
A chill raced down Blair's spine. "Why? What do you mean?"
"Mr. Ellison's vitals have weakened considerably over the last hour. I fear the antivenin will do no good at this point."
Blair stared at the doctor in disbelief. Quickly recovering, however, his disbelief turned to indignation. "He's not dead yet. The antivenin is here, doctor, and you're going to give it to him."
"Mr. Sandburg, I didn't mean to imply otherwise. I fully intend to use the serum, I was just informing you of the situation."
"We know, doctor. Thank you for keeping us up to date." Simon spoke before Blair could formulate a reply. Blair was grateful for the hand that came to rest on his shoulder.
"He's got to make it, Simon," Blair whispered. "He has to." The hand tightened briefly.
Moments later a nurse came in carrying a small cooler. She set it down on the tray table next to the syringes and left again.
One of the nurses already in the room opened the cooler and extracted a small box from inside. Opening this, she revealed ten ampoules of what Blair hoped would be lifesaving medicine for his partner. He and Simon watched as the doctor prepared a large syringe from the tray, picked up one of the ampoules and loaded its entire contents into the tube. Blair was surprised when the doctor picked up a second ampoule and did the same with it. He was terrified when the doctor repeated this routine eight more times, emptying all ten of the ampoules into the syringe. That much? Oh God.
He sent up a silent prayer as the doctor inserted the needle into Jim's IV port and slowly pressed the plunger. Within seconds, it was done. The antivenin had been injected into Jim's system.
The doctor straightened, handing the empty syringe to the waiting nurse. While the nurses cleaned up, Dr. Margulies acknowledged Blair and Simon once more. "Now, we go back to waiting. We should know within a half hour whether it's working or not."
"Thank you for everything, doctor. We really appreciate all your efforts on this," Blair said gratefully.
An alarm sounded, cutting off any reply the doctor might have made. Startled, everyone looked at the heart monitor. Flat line.
"Cardiac arrest! Peggy, Code Blue! Stat!" Dr. Margulies ordered, as he and the remaining nurse leaped into action. Peggy rushed to the intercom.
Within moments a crash cart arrived, along with two more nurses. Blair and Simon found themselves backed up into a corner, well out of the way, refusing to leave when one of the nurses suggested it. Blair had to be here for Jim. He figured Simon had similar thoughts.
Blair watched in mute horror as the medical personnel worked frantically to save his friend. He saw them insert a long needle directly into Jim's chest. A few seconds passed with no activity.
"No change. Paddles! Clear!"
Blair flinched as Jim's body was jolted by hundreds of volts of electricity.
"No change. Again. Clear!"
Again Blair flinched, his eyes going to the monitor along with everyone else's.
"Once more. Clear!"
Flat line.
For another couple of minutes the doctor and nurses continued CPR, but it was soon apparent their efforts were in vain. Gradually, the revival efforts stopped. The doctor glanced up at the clock.
"Time: Ten thirty-two a.m."
Blair closed his eyes. No, he groaned silently. Panther lay on his side, perfectly motionless. Wolf paced around him restlessly. He stopped and poked forcefully at Panther's ribs. When this failed to get a reaction out of Panther, Wolf moved closer, bowed his head and growled low in his chest. Wolf kept up the low, insistent rumble, getting more determined as he went on. Finally, a weak grunt came from Panther. The big cat's eyes slowly opened. He grunted weakly again. Wolf wagged his tale slightly, licking Panther's muzzle.
Blair opened his eyes, just as one of the nurses gasped.
"Doctor, we have a heartbeat!"
Blair's eyes snapped to the heart monitor. Sure enough, the EKG was registering a blip on the scope. As he watched, it grew more frequent.
Dr. Margulies quickly replaced his stethoscope and began to make a thorough check of Jim. One of the nurses recovered from her own shock and manually tripped the blood pressure pump.
A few minutes later the doctor straightened. Still looking a little stunned, he said, "We have sinus rhythm. Pulse is eighty-five and steady."
"BP is one seventy over eighty," the nurse added.
Dr. Margulies nodded. "Still high, but both better than they were. Continue monitoring vitals every fifteen minutes, and inform me of any significant changes."
Blair looked hopefully at the doctor as he approached them.
"Well, as you're well aware, your friend was in full cardiac arrest for several minutes. His heart started beating again on its own."
"How is that possible?" Simon asked.
"I've seen it before. It's very rare, especially after a period of arrest longer than a minute. We're not sure why or what causes it, but sometimes, in situations like this, when the heart has been in an extended period of disrythmia it simply stops and restarts again on its own. The heart's way of re-setting itself. Like I said, it's very rare, but it does happen. I can only assume that's the case here, and right now, I'm not too concerned about it. His vitals are better than they were before his arrest, but Mr. Ellison is still in critical condition. If his condition continues to improve over the next few hours, I would say his chances of recovery are likely."
"Thank you, Dr. Margulies. Again. I told you Jim was a fighter," Blair said proudly.
"That you did, Mr. Sandburg. I'm glad you proved right." The doctor smiled slightly. "But I must caution you, your friend isn't out of the woods yet. We still have the pulmonary edema and coma to worry about. And, assuming he recovers from all of that, he will still need surgery for the broken jaw."
"I know. And I understand. But an hour ago, we didn't even have that to hope for."
The doctor nodded in agreement. He moved back to examine Jim once more, and ordered another blood work up. With a nod of acknowledgement, he left the room.
The nurses gently shooed Blair and Simon out while they finished cleaning up and made sure Jim was comfortable.
Out in the hall, Blair slumped against the wall, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"God, Simon. Is this what it felt like for you guys when I died?"
Simon pushed up his glasses, rubbing his eyes with thumb and forefinger. "Yeah, Sandburg, it is."
The captain removed his hand and opened his eyes, looking directly into Blair's. "I thought the world had fallen out from under me, and then someone caught my fall. If I never have to live through that scare again, it'll be too soon."
Blair nodded. "Now I can relate. Oh, man."
Simon reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "He's back, Blair. By God's will or his own stubborn tenacity, he's back. He's going to be all right."
Blair nodded again, his throat too tight to allow words.
Chapter Eight
"Hey, Jim. I'm back. Of course, you knew that, didn't you?" Blair chuckled softly as he settled himself into the chair he'd occupied for most of the past thirty-eight hours. "You probably heard Simon in here insisting I go down to the cafeteria with him and get something to eat. I guess it was a good excuse to get me out of here while the doctor examined you yet again. Dr. Margulies told me he'd probably be taking you off the ventilator this afternoon. Guess he did that while I was gone, too. Bet that feels better, not to have that tube down your throat.
"You're doing so great, man. The doctor and nurses are amazed at your recuperative powers. Just a few hours ago you were at death's door--actually stood in the threshold for a minute, didn't you--and now your kidney function is better, your pulse and blood pressure are almost normal, and you're off the ventilator. They tell me you're starting to come out of the coma, too. Your lungs still have some fluid, but the Lasix seems to be helping." Blair fell silent for a few minutes, content to rub the back of Jim's hand with his thumb as he surveyed his partner.
The bandage around Jim's jaw had been re-wrapped after the breathing tube had been removed. Now, his mouth was closed, but somewhat lopsided due to the fracture. His face was still swollen and a mottled purple color. An oxygen tube now fed into Jim's nose, ensuring that his friend got enough oxygen even though he was now breathing on his own. Without the whoosh-thump-click of the ventilator, the room was almost silent to his normal ears.
"I stopped by to visit Brown on my way back from the cafeteria. He's doing great, Jim. The bullet went clean through. Chipped his scapula, but didn't do any muscle damage to speak of. He asked about you, man. He was glad to hear you'd turned around, and are getting better. They'll probably spring him tomorrow, so he's going to stop by for a quick visit. Rafe and Taggert were both treated and released a few hours ago." Blair paused again, reaching for one of the other books Simon had brought him. This one was a Tom Clancy novel.
"Would you like me to read some more, Jim?" He got no answer, but quietly started to read anyway, never letting go of Jim's hand.
Blair read until he began having trouble keeping his eyes open, and his voice threatened to give out. Setting the book aside, he reached for the bottled water he'd brought back from the cafeteria and took a sip. Setting it back on the floor, Blair bowed his head, only intending to rest for a minute.
Groggily, Blair opened his eyes. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was, but in another moment memory returned, and he straightened. Wow, he hadn't intended to fall asleep. Glancing at the clock, he noticed he'd been out for a couple of hours. He looked at his partner, gently squeezing the unconscious man's hand. He was surprised to feel the gentle pressure returned. He sat forward.
"Jim?"
Another faint pressure on his hand. Slowly, blue eyes slitted open and found Blair's.
"Ah, Jim, am I ever glad to see those baby blues of yours," Blair whispered.
The corners of Jim's mouth twitched, but he winced, and stopped.
"Take it easy, Jim. You've got a broken jaw. They'll take care of it as soon as you're strong enough for surgery."
Jim's eyes closed, and Blair thought he might have gone back to sleep, but a few moments later he heard a slurring noise. He looked up, but Jim's eyes were still shut.
"Hrrrz."
That time Blair managed to interpret the noise. "It hurts? I know, Jim. You were in pretty bad shape."
"Yhh."
"Shh, Jim. Can you picture the dial? Turn down the pain. It'll be hard, but try, okay?"
A tiny nod.
Blair tightened his hold on Jim's hand and quietly coaxed him through the exercise that was usually automatic. Several minutes later, the pain lines finally smoothed.
"That's great, Jim. I'm going to get the doctor in here, okay?" Blair didn't wait for any form of reply, pressing the call button close to Jim's pillow.
Moments later a nurse came in.
"Good evening, Blair. How's our patient tonight?"
Blair grinned at the young nurse, having met her the previous evening.
"Hi, Georgia. 'Our' patient is awake."
"Awake?" The nurse's eyes shot to Jim.
Just a hint of blue could be seen from between the lids, and only someone who knew him as well as Blair did could tell the corners of his mouth were curled ever so slightly.
"Well, I'll be. Welcome back, Mr. Ellison. This partner of yours sure has been worried about you. Actually, you had us all pretty worried. I'll go call Dr. Margulies." Georgia left quickly.
Blair looked after her for a long moment, an amused smile on his face, then turned back to his partner.
"What? Don't give me that look, man. Of course she's cute, but she's off limits."
Jim's lips curled just a little bit more.
Blair stroked Jim's hand soothingly. "Get some rest, Jim. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."
Obediently, Jim closed his eyes. Blair could tell by the slow rise and fall of his chest that Jim had indeed gone back to sleep. He got comfortable in the chair, never relinquishing contact with his partner, and allowed himself to doze.
When next he became aware, Dr. Margulies was in the room, just finishing an inspection of Jim's splinted fingers.
"Hey, doc," he said, yawning and scrubbing a hand over his eyes.
"Hello, Mr. Sandburg."
"How's Jim?"
"Doing splendidly, actually. The fluid in his lungs is almost gone. His renal function is almost normal, and his pulse, blood pressure, and temperature are all at satisfactory levels. An amazing recovery, considering where he was this morning."
"That's Jim. Give him a fighting chance, and he'll win every time," Blair said impishly, grinning when he realized his partner was awake and looking at him. "Hey, man! Have a nice rest?"
Jim blinked, trying to glare, but it was rather ineffective through slitted eyes.
"Mr. Ellison?"
Jim looked at the doctor.
"I'm going to ask you a few questions. You answer with a slight nod or shake, all right?"
The detective nodded.
"Good. Do you know you're in the hospital?"
Another affirmative.
"Do you know why you're in the hospital?"
Yes.
"Do you want anything for the pain?"
No.
"Hey, doc, could you tone it down a little? Jim's got really sensitive ears." Blair had seen the crease return in Jim's forehead and the tiny flinch every time the doctor spoke louder than necessary.
"Yes, of course," Dr. Margulies replied in a much quieter voice. Taking out a pen light, he checked Jim's pupil reactions.
Blair noticed Jim stiffen a little, but the Sentinel managed not to flinch when the pinpoint of light shined in his eyes.
Dr. Margulies stepped back, replacing the light in his pocket and picked up the chart again. "Well, Mr. Ellison, as I told your friend, you're doing exceedingly well. I'll check you again in a couple of hours, and if everything looks good, we'll get that jaw taken care of tonight. The sooner we can get it set, the sooner it can start to heal, and the less pain you'll be in."
Jim nodded in agreement.
Blair grinned. "That's great, Jim!"
"I'll leave you two alone again. Mr. Sandburg, he needs his rest, so try not to keep him awake."
"Oh, I won't, doctor. Thanks."
Chapter Nine
Blair yawned, and indulged in a spine-popping stretch. Getting up from the chair, he wandered to the window and looked out. There wasn't a cloud in the sky as the sun rose above the nearby buildings. It would be one of the few sunny days to be had in Cascade. Blair smiled. Good, the sun ought to be shining on a day like today. Today would be the day they could possibly start getting some answers to what had happened to Jim.
The Sentinel had come through the surgery with flying colors. Jim hadn't awakened after coming out of recovery, but instead slept through the night. That was probably due in part to the morphine they had given him for the pain. Blair smiled again as he recalled Simon's reaction when he'd shown up just as they were wheeling Jim down to pre-op. The big man had been so surprised, he'd been speechless. Simon had stayed through the surgery and until Jim had been returned to his room, a regular one this time, and then had left, admonishing Blair to get some sleep.
Blair turned around, his gaze fastening on his still sleeping partner. The bruises were still livid, but at least the swelling had finally gone down. Jim looked almost like his usual rugged, handsome self.
Jim stirred. Blair went to him and grasped his hand. A few moments later, blue eyes opened, blinked, then fastened on Blair's.
"Hey," Blair greeted him softly.
"Hey." The word was slurred slightly but understandable.
"How you doing?"
"'Kay. Hurts."
"I bet. Do you want me to get a nurse to give you something for it?"
"Not yet. Dial, then talk." Jim's words were slow and deliberate.
"Sure, man, we can do that." Blair sat down in the familiar chair. "Okay, Jim. Close your eyes. Relax, do your breathing. See the dial for touch. See where it's at? Turn it down one notch at a time, until the pain is just tolerable." Blair waited silently while Jim manipulated the mental dial.
After a few moments, Jim opened his eyes again, the pain crease in his forehead smoothed almost to nothing. "Thanks, Chief."
"Anytime, Jim. Can I get you a sip of water?"
At his friend's nod, Blair poured some water in the waiting cup, and held the straw to Jim's lips. Jim managed a few sips, then shook his head. Blair returned the cup to the tray table.
Just then a nurse came in with a breakfast tray containing a bowl of cream of wheat cereal and a glass of orange juice.
"Good morning, Mr. Ellison!" Georgia greeted brightly. "Glad to see you're awake. I brought you a little something to eat. I'm just going to check you over real quick, then I'll leave you to your breakfast." She picked up her chart and began looking at the monitors and checking the IV lines and tubes still stuck in Jim. "How's the pain? Do you want anything for it?"
"'m okay fur now," the detective replied.
"All right. Just buzz if you need anything."
"I will."
Georgia finished writing in the chart, gave each of the men a smile, then quietly left them. Bemusedly, Blair stared after her, then he looked at the bowl of hot cereal she'd left behind.
"Uh, do you want any of this?"
Jim sniffed lightly, and wrinkled his nose. "No."
"Yeah, thought so." Blair picked up the tray and set it on the window ledge, as far from the sentinel as he could get it. "What'd you want to talk about, Jim?" he asked, returning to his friend's side.
"How long?"
"How long have you been here?"
Jim nodded.
"Just over two days."
Jim nodded again, seemingly not surprised by this information.
"Al Saud, 'kay?"
Perplexed, Blair said, "Al Saud was fine the last I knew. Why?"
"I was s'osed to be guarding him."
"Yeah, well something kinda got in the way of that."
Jim chuffed softly. "Understatement, Chief."
Blair smiled tightly. "What do you remember, Jim?"
Ice-blue eyes turned to meet his. Blair read the answer there, and knew that Jim wouldn't soon forget.
"I'm sorry, Jim. I wish--"
Jim shook his head, but before he could speak, Simon walked in.
"Morning, Sandburg," the captain greeted automatically.
"Hi, Simon," Blair replied.
When the captain saw Jim awake and staring at him, the frown he'd been wearing momentarily disappeared. "Jim!"
"Morning, Simn," Jim answered with a slight smile.
"How are you feeling, Jim?"
"Like a truck ran over me."
Blair smiled slightly at this. "Jim was just telling me he remembers what happened."
"Good, then maybe he can tell me why the hell Military Intelligence showed up at my office first thing this morning with a warrant for the body," Simon said gruffly, his frown returning with full force.
"Body? What body?"
"Oh, sorry, Jim. I hadn't had the chance to tell you, yet," Blair responded.
"Tell me what?"
"Lots of interesting things have happened while you've been in here." Simon paused, then quickly outlined what they knew. "Now, this morning, MI shows up and demands Imaudi's body. Of course they wouldn't give me any information."
Jim was silent for a long time, simply staring at the ceiling. Blair saw and felt Jim's hands clench into fists. He rubbed the one under his palm gently. "Take it easy, Jim," he soothed. "Everything's going to be all right. It's over."
Jim glanced in his direction, then looked at Simon. "I remember Blair saying something about H. Everyone okay?"
"Yeah, Jim. They're all going to be fine. Brown's getting released later this morning. Rafe and Taggert will be on desk duty for a few days."
"Glad t'hear it. They were lucky."
Blair heard something in Jim's tone that made him wonder. "Jim, you know who the guy was, don't you?"
Jim's eyes closed for a moment. "Yeah. His name wasn't Imaudi. It was Al Saloom, Ben Al Saloom."
"Who was he, Jim?" Simon asked. "We found a group photo with you in uniform. It looked like some Army training camp or something. Your face was circled. How did this Al Saloom know you?"
"We went through Ranger School t'gether. He was an aloof, taciturn lil bstrd."
"Did you get along with him?"
"We worked t'gether when we had to, and tolerated each other when we didn't."
"Jim, was this personal for him, or was there something else going on?" Blair asked quietly, not liking the twitching jaw muscles he saw in his partner's cheek. Jim didn't need to aggravate his injury.
Jim sighed. "Both I guess."
"What do you mean, Jim?" Simon inquired, his brow creased in concern.
"In '83, a group of Rangers was sent in to capture some foreign national. S'loom and I were on the advance team. S'loom got a little carried away, and I had t' r'port him. He resented the fact that I blew the whistle on him. A reprimand went in his file, and that was the last time we worked together."
From what Jim hadn't said, Blair figured whatever Al Saloom had done, it hadn't been pretty or condoned by the higher-ups. He didn't want to know.
"So, what? After sixteen years he suddenly decides to pay you back for that?" Simon asked incredulously.
"That was only kindling, Simon. When he saw me working as a bodyguard for Al Saud, he was afraid I'd blow the whistle on him again. He had me kidnapped to keep get me out of the way."
"If he only wanted to keep you out of the way, why did he torture you, man?" Blair inquired softly.
"He thought I was still working Covert Ops. That MI had sent me in to capture him. When I didn't give him the answers he wanted to hear, well...." Jim shrugged.
"That's insane!" Blair exclaimed. "He was willing to torture you--kill you for information you didn't have?"
"Sad as it is, that's the way the game is usually played, Chief." Jim shrugged again, his slurred voice resigned, matter-of-fact.
Blair shuddered, clamping his mouth firmly on the retort he wanted to make. He knew that was the purpose of torture. Knew torture was torture regardless of whether the victim had the desired information or not. He knew it, he just didn't like to admit it.
"You were right about one thing, Chief."
Blair looked at his partner questioningly.
"He was insane. Somewhere along the line, he lost it. Seeing me just completely drove him over the edge."
"Is that why he thought you were Military Intelligence, Jim? They've been after him?" Simon questioned.
Jim nodded slightly. "Yeah. I gathered he went rogue. He'd been finishing missions his own way, taking private jobs. That's why he was posing as a driver for Al Saud. Someone hired him to infiltrate and gather information on Al Saud's business dealings. Probably one of the many cousins. When he saw me there, he figured I'd ask my 'superiors' what he was doing there. He knew he had to take care of the problem."
"Yeah, he damn near succeeded, too," Blair said tersely.
Blair felt Jim squeeze his hand, and he lifted his gaze to Jim's blue orbs. "But he didn't, did he? I'm still here."
Blair nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yeah. He didn't. That's what really matters."
The pressure on his hand increased momentarily, and Jim smiled slightly.
"There's one more thing I'd like to know," Simon said.
"What?"
"Why were you found in an alley, and why did he let you go?"
"That's two things," Blair quipped.
"Sandburg," Simon warned.
With obvious effort, Jim carefully enunciated his next words. "He didn't really let me go. After he injected me with the scorpion venom, he had the other bodyguards drive me back to the city and dump me in that alley. They had instructions to leave one vial of antivenin with me. He knew I'd use it to try to save myself, but obviously he wasn't worried that I'd survive. I didn't know the venom was so potent."
Blair nodded. "Yeah. It took ten ampoules to counteract the venom."
"Where'd you get it?"
"Al Saud pulled strings with his government, and ours apparently, and got the necessary medicine flown here in record time. Seems he was quite impressed with your professionalism, and was very dismayed when he learned some of his own people were involved in your abduction."
"Hmm. Al Saud's not a bad sort. Kind of like him."
"Yeah, he seems all right," Simon agreed.
"Hey, Jim?" Blair dug a piece of paper out of his jeans' pocket and unfolded it. "This symbol was on the note found on one of the dead bodyguards. Do you know what it is?" He held the picture he'd copied from memory out to his friend.
Jim made no move to take the paper, only looked at the drawing of the knife and grinning skull wearing a beret. "It's an insignia for a Special Forces 'ssassin."
"I knew it had something to do with the military. Was that what Al Saloom was? An assassin?"
"Yeah, Chief. That's why I said Brown and the others were lucky. An 'ssassin like S'loom doesn't miss very often."
"Oh. I guess that was all the more reason for Military Intelligence to want him, huh?"
"Yeah." Jim took a deep, sighing breath, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Well, that's my cue." Simon chuckled. "Get some rest, Jim. I'll be back later to get your statement. Oh, and the MI folks said they want to talk to you, too. I'll hold them off as long as I can, okay?"
"Thanks, Simon. 'preciate it."
"Just get well soon, Jim. I'm glad you're going to be okay."
Jim smiled, and Blair felt slight pressure on his hand again. "I am, too. Who else is going to keep San'burg in line?"
At that, Simon laughed. Waving to the two men, he shook his head, and left.
"You should've gotten a ride with him, Chief. You look exhausted."
"Nah, I'm okay, now that I know you're going to be okay. I'll just crash in the chair, like I have been. Maybe I'll go home later, after Simon and MI get done grilling you," Blair answered lightly, not voicing the fact that he was unwilling to leave his partner just yet.
Jim seemed to know this, because he simply smiled, squeezing Blair's hand gently. "'kay, Chief." With those softly spoken words, Jim let his eyes close and sleep claimed him.
Blair settled once again in the chair beside the bed, never relinquishing his hold on Jim's hand. Closing his eyes, he soon dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep, content in the knowledge that his friend, his partner--his sentinel--was safe.
THE
END
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