Back to part 11

Who Says Timing Isn't Everything
by Sammi M.

A cold wind whipped around the two people standing just inside of the doors and both shivered. Jim was able to turn down his sense of touch and his stopped, but he was all too aware of the smaller body close by that didn't have his advantage. Whether her shivers were from the wind or the situation they were walking into, the detective pulled her closer as they walked further into the dark building.

"Thanks," Schuyler whispered. "I don't know if I could have made it all the way without your help."

"You would have made it. If I've learned one thing in my time with your brother, it's you Sandburgs are a strong lot. When you put your heart and minds to it, you can do anything from defusing bombs to confronting murderers. And, somehow you even manage to worm your ways into tough cops' hearts and apartments."

The laughter was welcome considering what they were walking into. As they continued the journey, their thoughts turned to more serious matters the closer they came to the exchange spot. Jim's mind was on the quiet sounds of backup getting into position that hopefully he was the only one to hear. He also kept running over "The Plan" as he liked to refer to it. Grab one, walk back, midway drop down, backup takes charge, we all go home. Without realizing it, he had slipped into the little sing-song pattern Schuy had created. He watched the young woman beside him and smiled as she seemed to stiffen her shoulders and brace herself for the confrontation. *Just wait until I tell Sandburg. Something tells me he won't be so quick to fight her battles when he hears how tough she can be.*

Schuyler wasn't quite the picture of calm she seemed. *Oh, Leigh, what am I doing here? I wonder if Jim can feel how much my knees are quaking? Leigh, I really need this Masai peace you wrote about.* She began to pray in the way her birth mother had written in her journals. *Please, my ancestors, give me the strength to travel your path to the Four Corners of the universe. Guide my spear to my goal, my heart to my victory and my soul to the heavens. When I fall, have my people sing my name to warn the gods a warrior comes. May my blood cleanse the soil of my people and bring in its wake, life." She shuddered. *Great, why is it, the only one I can remember is the Warrior's Death Chant? This can't be good. Leigh, if you're out there, help me remember another one. And, tell me, why am I so cold?* "Jim, I…"

"That's far enough," a voice called from the shadows.

The Sentinel had picked up on the sounds of the other man before he spoke. He placed a stilling hand on his companion and allowed his sight to piggyback his hearing. What he saw had him gasping and preparing to charge. If the small hand hadn't grasped his arm at the sound, he would have been halfway to his death. "Omigod," pushed its way out of his tightening throat as Harriston continued into the center of the area where a single light shone.

The girl had enough presence of mind to hold on to her friend when she heard his intake of breath, but, as she finally saw what he had, it took all of her will not to go after the man herself. "What the hell did you do to him?!"

"Now, is that any way to greet an old friend, Schuyler? After all we've been to each other?" Harriston/Lloyd smirked at the girl holding Ellison. The smirk became a full-sized grin when he saw the blood starting to flow from where her nails bit into the detective's arm. "I'm so happy to see you're as excited to see me as I am you. I really *missed* you in San Francisco. Had to settle for your little friend. She wasn't as fun as you, but she did okay in a pinch."

Schuyler was shaking again but this time with fury. "You bastard! She had nothing to do with this. It was between you and me. Hannah was an innocent!"

"Nobody's innocent. She was your friend and if I couldn't have you … well, I had to settle for what I could." He dropped the bloody body of Blair and nudged it with his foot. "Same goes for Brother Dearest. I couldn't get within a hundred yards of you, so I went after what I could. I knew you'd rather die than have anything happen to your precious 'Blair'." Looking down at the still figure. "I would have brought him back with only a teeny-tiny hole if he hadn't awakened when I was moving him. He's stronger than he looks. While we were fighting, the gun went off. It was an accident – one that he caused, I might add." Harriston quirked his head and watched Schuy. "What is it about you that makes people want to play hero?"

Jim had been monitoring his partner's vitals from the time the other man had dropped him. Though there was a lot of blood, the wound was in his upper left shoulder, Blair's heart and respiration were steady and strong. The younger man didn't seem to be in any distress, but he was prepared to drop Harriston in a minute if that changed. "Enough with the wordplay; let's get this over with."

"You know, I never liked you, Ellison. You always wanted things your way or else. Well, this is my game and I'm holding all the cards."

Again, the girl had to hold the older man back. It was then she noticed the blood she had drawn from his arm. Without thought, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and covered the four perfectly shaped cuts and the distraction was enough to keep Jim in place. "Okay, fine. You're holding all the cards. So, what do you want to do next?"

The smirk was back. "I want you to walk your pretty little self over here and then we can leave. Your blood buddy over there can come get his pet and we all live happily ever after." A predatory gleam flashed in his eyes. "Now, come over here."

"No, I don't trust you any further than I can see you. What's to say you wouldn't shoot them once you had me. This has to be an equal exchange. Jim goes over there and picks up Blair and then we walk towards the opposite ends. I reach you when they make it over here."

"I think you think this is one of your little games where you're in charge. Well, you're wrong and to prove it, I'll just put a another hole in your brother."

"And I'll just put a hole in your head." Out of the same pocket as the handkerchief, a small caliber gun came up and aimed at the area mentioned. "Now, I'm willing to be reasonable about this. You allow us to follow my plan and when Jim starts walking, I drop the gun and come to you just like you want. Otherwise, you have to hope I'm not such a good shot."

"And I'm supposed to trust you."

"You're the one who's been following me for years. Have I ever gone back on my word?" She pinned his eyes with her own. "I promise you that after my brothers are safe, I won't do anything to hinder your plans."

Harriston thought for a moment and he watched as the small gun in the small hand never wavered. "We'll do it your way, but if I have any hint of a trap, I won't hesitate to put bullets in both of them."

Jim had remained quiet during the exchange just like they had planned it. They had figured the change of plans would have to come from Schuy or else Harriston wouldn't go for it. *So far, so good.* As rehearsed he asked aloud, "Are you sure you want to do this? I'm sure we can come up with some…"

"No, we're gonna do this. I gave my word." She cupped his face in her hand. "Just make sure you get him, okay?"

"It's a promise." He turned and cautiously started walking towards the other man with his senses focused on the scene playing out. When he reached Harriston, it took all he had in him not to break the man's neck, but one glance at the gun aimed at his partner's head was enough to have him reaching down to his friend. "Easy, Buddy. You're gonna be fine." He lifted the younger man easily into his arms and turned to head back. He felt, rather than saw, the gun raise and point at his back and all of his military training came to bear as he remained still. A nod from Schuyler had him taking his first step. He watched as the girl dropped her gun and did the same. Simultaneously, they would step, drawing closer to each other. Both praying nothing would go wrong in the plan.

Just as they had taken a step past each other, two things happened to cause everything to collapse around them. On the walkway above, one of the sharpshooters accidentally knocked his rifle against the rigging causing the sound to reverberate in the hollow space … and Blair moaned. If one had happened without the other, things might have stayed on track, but, as it played out, there was no hope.

At the sound, Harriston's eyes flew to the walkway and he caught a glimpse of movement. Rage at the trap built in him quickly and with a furious scream, he fired several shots.

Jim had been so focused on everything that when his Guide moaned he zoned on the pain in that simple noise.

Schuyler saw the frozen look on Jim's face and heard the gunfire simultaneously and without thought hurled her smaller body in front of the men. The force was enough to take all of them down and as they were falling, the cacophonous sounds of more gunfire filled the air.

When the dust finally cleared, Harriston was down and no one in the other group was moving.

Simon and Joel ran into the space – Taggert taking the gunman and Banks checking his people. Someone was starting to stir as he reached the pile of bodies and he dropped down to gently help.

Jim sat up dazed and coughing as he tried to focus on his superior. A red line ran from the right rear part of his head to the front. Blood was copiously flowing down the side and his ears were ringing. "Simon?"

The older man put a hand on him to steady him. "Yeah, it's me. You need to hold still while I check on the kids. You've got a nasty gash along the side of your head and I'm sure you're probably concussed." When he was sure the man wasn't about to fall over, he moved to Blair who was closest. "Sandburg? Can you hear me?" He checked the anthropologist's pulse and breathing and was reassured to find both strong. "No new holes as far as I can see. Of that we can be thankful." He noticed his detective was leaning over the girl and he became worried, "Jim? Are you okay?"

The Sentinel turned pain-wracked eyes to his boss. "Simon, she's hurt."

Banks moved away from the Guide and crawled over to where Jim was watching the younger Sandburg. As he reached her to check her injuries, he was shocked to see her eyes open. "I think … this … constitutes a ma-major … owie."

"Probably. What is with you Sandburgs and your love of holes in your bodies? Are you like in competition or something?" The larger man tried to joke as he looked at the injuries. With his training and his years on the force, he recognized they were pretty serious. *It's a wonder she's even awake, let alone can talk.* "How are you feeling?"

"Hard … to … breathe."

The Captain nodded. Judging by where she was hit, he was sure that was an understatement. By now, Taggert had walked over to them and was kneeling behind the girl. "Joel, I need you to gently raise her and let her rest on your legs. I have a bad feeling the bullet hit her lung." He watched as the man tried to be as gentle as possible, but still Schuy whimpered. "What's the status on Harriston and the e.t.a. of the paramedics?"

"Harriston's dead with about twenty bullets in him. We've got three ambulances en route at an estimated four minute arrival time."

Jim was listening as much as his in-and-out hearing would allow him. He had returned to his friend's side once Simon had taken over the care of the girl and he was trying to awaken him. "Come on, Chief. I need you to open your eyes for me. Let me know how bad I look. Come on, Buddy."

A soft fluttering of eyelashes was the first sign his Guide had heard him. The lids slowly opened and it took a few seconds before recognition set in. "J-Jim?"

As much of a smile as the detective could muster took over his face. He gently smoothed the curls away from the fevered brow and offered reassurances. "It's okay, Blair. You're going to be okay. Just relax and the ambulances will be here in a minute."

The younger man nodded and just as he was about to return to sleep mumbled, "Man, you look about the way I feel."

What started out as chuckle at her brother's comment soon turned into mini-convulsions for the girl. "Oh, Leigh! Make it stop! Please, make it stop." The tears started running down her brown face and her eyes promised more. "Jim!"

The Sentinel turned from his peacefully sleeping Guide towards the frantic young woman as slowly as he could, but he still felt like his head was going to explode. When he was close enough, he took her nearest hand in his and lowered his head to her sight-level. "I'm here, Little Sister. I'm here."

"Re-re-remember yo-your … pro … promise?"

He couldn't stop the tears that flowed down his cheeks even if he wanted to. "I will if you will."

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After he was released that morning with a new hairstyle and what amounted to a turban, he drifted down to the rooms of his adopted family. Naomi had fussed around him and tried to convince him to go home, but he refused. He couldn't leave them. He listened to the doctors as they prattled on about the injuries of the kids and his heart dropped when Schuyler's doctor told Naomi she might want to perform any rituals before the night was over. Jim refused to listen to that nonsense and walked down to the girl's ICU cubicle. As he stood looking through the glass at the abundant tubes and wires connected to the still figure, he again went over the promise she had made to him and willed her to recognize it. He stayed that way until the glares from an evil looking nurse sent him past Naomi in the waiting room and downstairs to his Guide's slumbering place.

It had been several hours and all he wanted to do was hear his best friend's voice. "Come on, Chief. Don't leave me hanging here. You know I can't get anything done unless you're with me. I've really been running at a deficit since you've been gone – couldn't do one piece of paperwork." He leaned over and returned a curl to it's place behind the resting man's ear. "I really missed our family movie date. I was looking forward to losing myself in a big vat of buttered popcorn…"

"Ugh, do you know how much cholesterol is in one of those tubs? Enough you would have been in this bed and not me," a dry voice rasped.

Jim couldn't hide the smile as he reached over to pour his partner a cup of water. He gently raised the younger man's head and held the cup so Blair could reach the straw. When his Guide was finished, he lowered him and returned the water to the table. "Glad to see you weren't planning on sleeping the whole day away. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot … again. My whole left side aches."

"Yeah, that's from the surgery. They had to go in and remove the bullet and patch up your shoulder. Good news, though. The doc said you should be back to pitching those special left-handed fastballs in no time."

Blair grinned at his companion. "That's good to know." He squinted at the older man. "Umm, Jim, I hate to ask, but why are you wearing a turban?"

"It's not a turban; it's a special bandage. Since one of the bullets kind of followed my head around, it was the only thing they could give me to keep the air out." The Sentinel pouted. "I didn't think it looked so bad."

"Oh, man, it doesn't. I was just commenting on your new … fashion … statement. It's definitely interesting." He paused as he tried to contain a grin. "You aren't planning on wearing that to the station, are you?"

Jim shrugged, "I would have, but the doctors felt I needed a few days and Simon gave me a week. So, by the time I return, I probably won't still be wearing it."

"Good."

In the space of a few seconds, the detective's demeanor changed. "I'm sorry about Harriston grabbing you. I didn't even think he might go after you or Naomi to get to her. I blew it, Chief."

"No you didn't. I don't think anyone expected him to go the route he did. The man was too far out there to read. You got me away; that's what's important." Blair let all of his trust and feelings shine through his eyes. "I never doubted you'd get to me."

The Sentinel was always amazed at how much his Guide believed in him and this time was no different. He silently prayed he would never let him down. "Isn't that what a Blessed Protector does?"

"That's it exactly, man." He looked around for a minute curious. "So, where are Naomi and Schuy? Were you finally able to convince them to give you some time with me? I know how they can be around me in a hospital bed. Even with Schuy only being a little thing, she was fierce about her time."

Blair watched as the older man's face fell. Before he could ask what was wrong, Jim answered, "Naomi's up on the floor waiting for her time to see Schuyler."

"Why would she need to wait for a time? Visiting hours aren't over; you're here."

Tormented blue eyes locked with terrified blue ones. "Schuy's in ICU. She took two bullets: one in the chest that collapsed a lung and the other in her abdomen. They were able to re-inflate the lung but she's on a ventilator. The bullet in her abdomen kind of bounced around in there and did some major damage."

"But, she's gonna be okay, right?"

"The doctors don't think so, but," a determined look crossed his face, "she made me a promise and I intend for her to keep it."

Blair watched his Sentinel and listened to the steel behind the words. He relaxed and settled back against his pillows and let the tiredness take over. "Well then, with you two, I have nothing to worry about. *She* never breaks her word and *you'd* hunt her down if she would." The drowsiness caused his next words to be slurred, but his Blessed Protector understood them perfectly. "Just make sure you pop in every so often and remind her what a stubborn mule you are and how you intend to hold her to her promise. She won't go any where, if only just to come back and yell at you for daring to demand anything of her."

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Sammi