The Dark Backward.

By Gillian 

"No, no, no, That is unacceptable," Kalinsky shouted, pushing the map backwards and standing up. "Captain Banks, will you talk to Ellison about this?"

Jim set his jaw and straightened up from the map. "Look, Kalinsky," he said quietly, before the captain could speak. "This is not open for debate. I was put in charge of this prisoner transferal, and I will pick the route."

"Ellison is right," Simon said, addressing the angry Federal agent directly. "This is a Cascade PD operation and he is in charge."

"And I say we take Olympia Bluffs." Jim flicked a finger at the map and the route outlined in red.

"And if it snows?" Kalinsky said tightly. "Those roads are damn dangerous in the best conditions. Why risk taking a convoy of police vehicles through such an isolated area?"

"For all the reasons I've outlined," Jim said, obviously reining in his impatience. "Because I have transferred a prisoner along the highway before and lost him, risking lives in the process."

Blair and Simon exchanged glances behind Jim's back, both of them had good reasons for remembering that case.

"And because we already have the word that Chin's associates may try something. If they want to try it on Olympia Bluffs they will need to be mountain goats. We will control the way in and the way out. It's the best route."

Kalinsky faced Banks. "Do you agree?"

Simon looked from the map to his best detective's face. He sighed. "Look, Kalinsky, Jim knows what he's talking about. If he says this is the best way I'm inclined to believe him."

"Big surprise," Kalinsky said sarcastically. He picked up his coat and slung it over his arm. "Keep me posted on your arrangements, Ellison," he said shortly, and then left.

"Whew, that is one wound up guy," Blair marveled, spinning the map to study it himself. "I can see his point though, it's a long way out of the way."

Jim and Simon exchanged looks and when Simon nodded Jim quietly closed the office door Kalinsky had just stormed through.

"That's because it's not the real route, Chief," Jim said. "It's a decoy route."

Blair frowned, his agile mind working. "You're bluffing the Feds? Why?"

"Because we got more than just word of a possible break-out of Chin," Simon said, sitting back behind his desk. "Our informant has pointed the finger at a dirty Fed."

"Kalinsky?" Blair exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up.

Jim shrugged. "No way of knowing. But Kalinsky will take the word home to his fellow Feds that this is the route. And we are going to have one or two traps laid for anyone who cares to try anything."

"So you really are taking the highway?"

Simon pulled a map out of his desk drawer and unfolded it. Jim and Blair bent over it.

"No, we are taking a route that almost completely by-passes the Olympia Bluffs." Simon stabbed a finger at the map. "Boomer's Pass."

*****

A small figure in a long black coat stood in the shadows of Prospect Place. He studied the darkened shop fronts across the road, marveling at how the once familiar now seemed strange to him. Had that shop-front always been that color? Was there always a big red post box right there? A cold wind scurried down the road and the man shivered, turning his collar up against the intrusive breeze. Sensitive fingers encased in black leather tugged the black wool muffler closer and he sighed. He had always hated the cold.

An old Ford roared down the street and swung into a parking spot. The man in the shadows drew back slowly, knowing his clothes would blend in but also knowing that would do him no good if he attracted attention to himself. Two men alighted from the truck, one taller and broader, climbing out silently and locking his door behind him. The other was shorter, long dark hair cascading down his back. He too locked his door and began to follow the other man across the road, but he was not silent. His chatter echoed down the dark quiet street as he walked, skipping the occasional step to keep up with the bigger man's longer strides. They disappeared into the building.

The man by the lamp post shivered again, although this time not with cold. Leather gloved fingers rubbed beneath his eyes and came away gleaming wet.

*****

"It doesn't matter how long you keep talking, Chief, or what you have to say. You are not coming with us tomorrow."

"But, Jim, you need me," Blair insisted. "I'm your partner, I was there when you arrested Chin for god's sake. You can't cut me out now."

Jim looked admiring. "You sound more like a cop every day, Chief."

Blair did not look as if he took that as a compliment.

"It's just too risky," Jim said firmly, for the tenth time.

"I take risks every day, man," Blair moaned.

"Not these kinds of risks. And besides, you don't take that many risks any more. I make sure of that."

Blair studied Jim's face, seeing that stubborn look that meant he was not going to change his mind. "This sucks," he sulked, throwing himself down on the couch.

"Live with it," Jim said uncaringly, taking a juice bottle from the fridge and downing the contents in one long swallow.

"I will," Blair said huffily.

"Do that," Jim returned, turning and surveying the picture his lover made all fluffy and sulky looking.

Blair turned and caught the look out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, no," he said. "Don't think you can drop me like a school case and then give me that look."

"What look?" Jim said, dropping the empty juice bottle on the sink and taking a step forward.

Blair held out a hand. "That look. Hungry, like a predator."

Jim stalked forward another step, eyes gleaming in the darkness. "I am hungry," he purred.

Blair jumped up and backed away. "I'm serious, man," he sputtered.

Jim stopped dead. "You are?"

Blair paused to think. "Nah, not really," he winked and then fled to the spare room as his predator started stalking him again.

*****

Blair poked Jim in the side and the big figure turned over and groaned. "Not again, you insatiable beast," he mumbled.

"You better mean me," Blair said, pulling back the covers. "It's eight and you told me to wake you before I left. Wake up."

"I'm up," Jim sat up and then flopped back down again. "I have time," he mumbled.

"Okay, but don't blame me if you are late for your own prisoner transferal," Blair said, playfully ruffling short hair. "I can still cancel this class and come with you..."

"Go to school, Chief," Jim poked his head out of the covers. "It will be fine."

Blair sighed and laid a kiss on Jim's lips. "Whew," he teased, backing away. "Morning breath."

Jim aimed a swat. "Get out of here."

"I'm going, I'm going. Jim?" Jim looked over to see his lover standing by the French doors. "Be careful, okay?"

"I will, Chief." Jim waited until he heard the outer door close before he snuggled back down. He had plenty of time, a few minutes more snoozing wouldn't hurt. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew the front door was opening.

"What did you forget, Chief?" Jim called out sleepily, and then all at once his eyes and mouth and nose were stinging and he was clawing at his throat to breathe. Everything thing went black.

*****

Blair received the call at noon, just as his second class was settling down and his lesson was swinging. "Excuse me," he said, pulling out his cell phone and flipping it open. "Blair Sandburg."

"Blair, I think you better come home," Simon said grimly.

Tugging off his glasses Blair stood up. "What's happened?"

"Just come home, and see for yourself." Simon rang off and Blair cursed the man under his breath.

"Class is dismissed," he said, hurriedly stuffing things in his back pack. "Read the chapters assigned. Work hard." Hardly knowing what he was doing he hurried out of the class room and down to his car. On the drive home he tried to call the loft but the phone was disconnected. Then he tried Simon's cell but it was busy. "Couldn't just tell me what was wrong," he huffed, throwing the phone onto the seat in disgust. "Had to get all mysterious on me."

He burned rubber all the way home but when he swung into Prospect Place and saw all the squad cars he just sat for a moment in the middle of the road, engine idling. A leaden weight had taken the place of his heart and all of a sudden his legs felt like they were attached to his body by strings. A horn blaring behind him bought him back to himself long enough to pull up to the kerb. He parked and climbed stiffly out, ignoring the No Parking signs.

"Blair." Simon was sitting on the couch when Blair appeared in the door way. The young man had walked slowly up the stairs, avoiding the lift and the cops who milled around in the tiny foyer. His urgency felt like it had drained away, along with his spirit and his heart. He looked around for the coroner, or a body bag.

"Sandburg, that was quick."

"Well, what the hell do you expect," Blair snarled, feeling anger well up inside him. It felt good so he went with it. "Why couldn't you just tell me what happened on the phone?"

"Because we don't know what happened," Simon said, surprise keeping him from snapping back. "And I am too busy to go into details on the phone to you."

"You don't know?" Something stirred in his heart. It felt like hope. "Then Jim's not..."

"Jesus, Sandburg, no!" Simon looked horrified. "I really scared you didn't I?"

Blair leaned back against the door jamb in a rush of relief. "Oh, no, Simon. Chinese gangsters and crooked Feds were on the schedule for today. Why should I be worried to arrive home to see a dozen cop cars outside?"

"Shut up about the Feds," Simon hissed, looking around to see who might have heard. He grabbed Blair's arm and hauled him over to the veranda windows. "And this is common practice when a cop vanishes."

"Vanishes?" Blair repeated.

"Yeah. He didn't show up for the detail and when I called the phone was out of order. I came around myself and found the place like this. Door wide open, Jim's coat and wallet and keys still on the table. Only thing missing is his badge."

Blair looked over at the wallet and keys now sitting in clear evidence bags. The case Jim kept his badge in was open and the vacant space looked like an empty eye socket. He shook off Simon's hand and crossed the loft to the door of the spare room. The bed was a tangled mess, sheets and pillows everywhere. "Jim wouldn't leave it like that, no matter how much of a hurry he was in."

Simon looked up to the second level bedroom. "What was he doing down here?" he asked, and then clamped his jaw around his cigar. "Sorry, forget I asked."

"We just never made it upstairs last night," Blair ignored the captain's grimace as he always did when he and Jim touched upon their relationship. He cared very little for Simon Bank's opinion. "Someone came here and took him," Blair said softy.

"It looks that way," Simon said grimly.

"To keep him from the extradition?" Blair said as the thought occurred to him.

"That's my guess. And unfortunately when Jim didn't show, Kalinsky took over the whole thing. He is on the road now with a convoy of vehicles, on his way with Chin to the border for extradition."

"So Kalinsky got his way. He's in control," Blair said tightly. "Co-incidence? But at least it gives us some hope," Blair went on. "I mean, if they wanted Jim dead he'd be here, dead." He was silenced by Simon's silent head shake.

"Blair, if we found Jim dead we'd have every reason to halt these extradition proceedings. "But with him just AWOL, we don't have a leg to stand on."

"But surely a missing cop-?"

"Means nothing to the Feds. As far as they are concerned Jim could have been on an all night bender and be drunk in an alley somewhere."

"So you're saying he could be dead?" Blair was amazed at how easily he was discussing this when minutes before the mere prospect had almost driven him to his knees. But Jim was not laying here dead. And until Blair saw that with his own eyes he was not going to stop looking for him.

*****

Slowly the effects were wearing off. Every now and then someone would lay a damp cloth on his burning face and tilt his head and dribble cool water down his throat. Jim had a vague memory of the pain and then someone helping him, down the back stairs, stumbling into a van, cool cloths on his skin. Now he rested against soft sheets, feeling the burn fade. Slowly and carefully he let his hearing come back on-line and he scanned the area. No-one was around but him. He tried to move but in an instant the burning was back, as bad as ever and Jim was forced to subside back onto the cool softness.

Soon. Soon the pain would recede enough so he could find out what the hell was going on.

*****

Blair sat with his head in his hands and Simon was rubbing his forehead. It was four PM and the hours Jim had been missing had turned up nothing. The phone lit up and Simon answered it automatically. "Banks. When? You're kidding? All right, thanks for letting me know, and keep me posted."

Blair had looked up when the phone rang but at a head shake from the Captain he again let his head fall into his hands.

"That was the CMP. The extradition took place without a hitch."

"Thrilling." Blair mumbled.

"But an hour ago they went to get Chin from his holding cell and he was found dead. They think it was a heart attack."

Blair sat up straight. "Chin was 33 years old."

"And in perfect condition. Doesn't mean he didn't have a heart problem, but of course there's going to be an autopsy."

"So they didn't break him out, they settled for killing him," Blair said darkly. "Why do I not care if that scum bag is dead?"

"Because if Jim paid for it with his life the price was too high," Simon finished.

There was a quick knock on the door and Brown opened it and peered in. "Package for you, captain. They ran it through the scanner downstairs, I think you might want to see this."

Simon and Blair hurried out into the squad room and intercepted the desk cop who had signed for the package and scanned it. Simon almost snatched it off him and tore it open, upending the contents onto a desk. Jim's badge spilled out along with a folded piece of paper. Simon carefully opened the paper by the edges. Printed on it was an address.

"9242 Roman Road," Simon memorized. He dropped the note on the desk. "Put that in an evidence bag," he shouted over his shoulder as he hurried back into his office for his coat and weapon. "Come on, Sandburg."

Blair was on his heels.

9242 Roman Road was locked up tight but two big officers applied their shoulders to the door and knocked it down. A flood of armed cops poured in, shouting warnings. From the safety of Simon's car Blair watched, hands clenched, mumbling prayers under his breath to a dozen deities in a dozen languages.

"He's here," The crackle came over the radio from one of the cop's head sets. "He's alive, but we need the paramedics in here."

"Thank god," Simon said, casting a look at Blair. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. A second later he was scrambling for the door handle. Simon's big hand over his stopped him.

"Not yet, Sandburg. They still have to secure the area."

Long agonizing minutes passed and Blair had to be physically restrained from following cautious paramedics into the house. Finally the cops inside gave the all clear signal and he rushed in. Paramedics were surrounding Jim on the bed and even before Blair saw him he heard him, protesting that he was fine.

"Jim!" he called.

"Blair?" Jim sat up, groaning a little. He was holding a cloth to his face and his eyes were fiery red and streaming. "I can hear you, Chief, but I'm not seeing too well at the moment."

"Jim," Blair gasped, reaching out and taking a hand, trying not to get into the paramedics way. "What did they do to you?"

"Looks like pepper spray," one of the paramedic's said. "They gave him a nasty dose. We need to get him to the hospital, get this stuff flushed out."

"Blair, I was worried about you," Jim lay back, clutching Blair's hand.

"Worried about me?" Blair shook his head in disbelief.

"Thought they had you too," the cop muttered. One of the medic's gave him a shot and he relaxed back.

"That'll help with the pain," the medic said, as the stretcher was wheeled in. "He'll be fine."

Blair stood back as they loaded the unconscious man onto the ambulance.

"He's a lucky man," Simon speculated. "I guess they didn't want the heat of killing a cop."

"He's alive," Blair said. "That's all I care about."

*****

"So I never saw a thing," Jim said a few hours later. His eyes were still swollen and red, but he could see through them, even though the lights had to be dimmed. "I heard the door open, so whoever it was had a key. I was half asleep, but I thought it was Blair. I was sure of it..." Jim trailed away, and Blair held tighter to his hand, not caring that Simon was in the room taking the cop's statement.

"And then they just dumped you?"

"I was in no condition to do anything, Simon. Even breathing hurt. I swear, I have never felt anything like that."

"So, Blair filled you in on the news?"

"About Chin? Yeah."

"Well, the preliminary ME report came back Looks like some kind of toxin killed him, simulating a heart attack. Trouble is they have no way of knowing until they identify when it was administered. Or even if it was self administered."

"So they are gonna get away with it?" Blair demanded.

"Early days yet, Chief," Jim counseled. "We'll keep turning over the rocks and the bugs will eventually scurry out."

"Well, you're safe, that's the most important thing," Simon said. He turned to the door and then turned around. "Oh, and an interesting foot note, did you hear about Boomer's Pass?"

Blair and Jim looked at each other and shook their heads.

"I guess you missed the evening news." Simon picked up their hand set and switched the TV on and to the news channel. "There you go."

"Amazing footage from our Channel Six Eye in the Sky today," The newscaster was saying. On screen a view of tangled broken trees and a boulder strewn landscape. "Boomer's Pass resembles nothing more than a war zone today following the landslide that happened at approximately twelve noon."

"Noon," Blair repeated in disbelief.

"Shh," Simon said.

"Tons of debris poured down the mountain and onto the Pass in a disaster experts say has been decades coming. There are still fears motorists might have been trapped under the deadly landslide, although by nightfall sophisticated equipment and police sniffer dogs have detected no sign of this."

Simon flicked the picture off.

"Noon," Blair repeated again. "You would have been on that road at noon," His voice was dazed and tinged with horror.

"Yeah," Jim sounded just as shocked.

"So whoever did that to you saved your life," Simon said. "Ironic, huh?" He sketched a wave and left.

"I don't know if ironic is the word I'd use," Blair said, looking sick. He shivered suddenly and violently, and Jim clutched his hand in dismay. "Goose walked over my grave," Blair said, smiling weakly. He wrapped his other hand over Jim's and held on tight.

*****

Down the street from the hospital a small man in a black coat watched the soundless pictures through the glass of an electrical store. Screen after screen showed the images of the crumbled hillside until finally the story ended and the scene changed.

The man looked down at his leather gloved hand, turning it over in wonderment as it faded and became translucent before his eyes. Strangely he felt no fear, just an anticipation of the long rest to come. Another would benefit from this struggle and only time would tell if what he had done was right.

"Jim," he whispered softly.

A moment later only the chill breeze was left sweeping down the street. Only time would tell indeed.

The End.

The dark backward, and an abysm of time...

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