As he looked down from 33,000 feet, Mac Taylor could see some snow on the mountain tops, even though it was April, and springtime. He and Don Flack were on their way to a small town in Colorado called Fleming, which was in Boulder County. Mac had never been to this place, but a suspect they had been after had been captured there and they were going to pick him up, and the evidence against him for the crimes he had committed in Colorado as well. Mac did not particularly like flying but it was better than driving all the way over there from New York. Don was sleeping, as he was sitting in the middle seat. There was a man sitting on the other side of Don. Mac always got a little claustrophobic when he was in a plane and he either looked out the window or listened to music or looked at magazines. He was glad this was not a long flight.

Mac stuck his ear buds in his ears. He would just listen to some music because he was just a little bored sitting there looking out the window. He thought maybe he should just try and take a nap too and then maybe the plane would be landing by the time he woke up.

Their plane landed at 10AM. Don stretched and yawned as they walked off the plane. "I think that was the longest I've slept all year without being interrupted," he said.

"Well, you sure got your four hours worth," Mac replied. "Let's get a car and get over there to Fleming."

"Why did they have to catch him in a town that time forgot?"

"I don't think time forgot it…it's just small."

"You know how these small towns are…everybody knows everybody."

"Yeah, and they're always suspicious of someone they don't know so just try and tone it down while we're there."

"Me? What? You think I'll offend them?"

"Just try not to joke around too much, if you don't mind."

Don smiled as they were going to the carousel to get their bags. When they had those, they went to rent a car. "We should rent a sports car," Don said.

Mac looked at him. "We have to transport a prisoner," he pointed out. "We can't do that in a sports car."

"Can't we at least get something a little flashy?"

"Why?"

"I don't know. I get tired of gray and beige and black."

Mac rented a blue car and they headed for the town. "Well, at least it's not gray," Don said.

"Do you always have to complain?" Mac asked.

"No, but we could have gotten a red car."

"They didn't have a red car."

"Oh right."

"I just hope we can get this guy back to New York without any incidents."

"That shouldn't be a problem. He'll be cuffed the whole way."

"I still just don't like taking a prisoner on a plane with other people."

"We'll put him in the middle. That way if he moves either way, one of us can shove him back in place."

Mac looked out the window at the green scenery. Although it was still cool here in the mountains, everything was still green for spring. He liked spring except for the pollen that sometimes got his sinuses into an uproar. He had not gotten any allergies yet, but he was sure something would come up before it was over.

Mac took the file out about the guy they were going after. It would take them two days because the extradition papers had to be filled out and approved by a judge. He had been through this process before and it was a slow process and had to be done right.

As they arrived in Fleming, it was even smaller than Mac had expected. However, the sheriff in this county had an office there, and actually, he had been told that the sheriff lived there, and owned a great deal of land around that town. Mac always did research about these cases and people involved when he was dealing with people like this and knew nothing about them. He liked to know something before he got to a place. He did not have to go traveling very often but one never knew what would come up.

They found the sheriff's office there in the town and went inside. It looked like something out of the Andy Griffith show, with just a desk and jail cells although there were doors separating the office from the cells. There was a deputy sitting at a desk there in the office. He had blond hair and looked like he worked out plenty and it showed through his well-fitting uniform. "Morning," he said.

"Morning," Mac replied. "I'm Detective Mac Taylor from New York."

"Oh, you're the one who came to get that prisoner."

"Yes. I have the papers here for his extradition."

The deputy came over to the counter and took the papers from Mac. "The sheriff should be in soon," he said. "You fellas can wait or you can get yourselves a room at the hotel down there."

Mac nodded. "How long before the sheriff will be here?" he asked. "He knew we were coming. Why isn't he here?"

The deputy, whose name on the tag was Talmadge, frowned. "The sheriff is a busy man," he declared. "You may not think we do anything over here but we do. It seems that we caught your guy when you couldn't keep him in your big city."

Don just looked at Mac wondering what he would say to that. Mac had told him not to offend people here and now he was ruffling feathers. Mac frowned at Talmadge. "Okay," he said. "And I never said you don't do anything. I just think it's rather rude to be expecting someone at your office and then not bother to be present when they arrive."

"Like I said, he's a busy man, so you can either wait or do whatever."

"We'll go and check into the hotel," Mac said. "We'll be back in an hour."

Don followed Mac outside. "I thought we weren't going to ruffle any feathers over here," Don said.

Mac looked at him as they were getting into the car. "Give me the keys," he said. "I'm driving."

Don gave him the keys and they got into the car. Mac drove over to the hotel and they checked into two rooms. Mac put his bag on the bed and sat down. He sighed as he thought that bed was awful hard. Then again, he could not expect it to be like his own bed. He changed into some jeans and a blue and white checkered shirt. He was not tired so he went outside and went over to Don's room. "You ready to eat?" Mac asked.

"Yeah, sure," Don said.

They went over to a small restaurant there called The Barbeque Grill. Mac thought it looked like it was the only restaurant in town, but of course, they had not seen the whole place. They walked in and Mac thought it smelled like black pepper in there. "They must use a lot of pepper on stuff," he remarked. He thought that smell would make him sneeze.

"It sure smells like pepper," Don said.

They walked up to the counter and a woman came over to them. "Howdy, what can I get for you?" she asked. "Or would you like to sit and look at a menu?"

"I think I'd like a menu," Mac said. "This is our first time here."

"Just have a seat, Honey, and I'll bring you one."

Mac and Don went to a table and sat down. "Honey," Don said, mocking the waitress.

Mac shook his head. "She'll probably call you that too," Mac replied.

Don snickered at that and then the waitress brought them both a menu. "What would you boys like to drink?" she asked.

Mac considered that a moment. "I think I'll just have a soda," he said.

"You in town for long?"

"No. We're just here on business."

"In Fleming? What kind of business?"

Mac smiled slightly. He knew people in small towns liked to know everything. "We're detectives from New York," he said. "We're here for a prisoner."

"Oh, I heard about that." The waitress smiled. "So you're from New York. Wow. That's a big city, isn't it?"

Mac nodded. "It is."

"My name's Katy."

"Mac."

Katy looked at Don. "What will you have to drink, Sugar?" she asked.

"I'll have a soda too."

They looked at the menu while Katy went to get their drinks. Mac smiled and chuckled. "Sugar," he said.

"Don't tease me, Honey. I wonder what's good," Don said.

Mac almost laughed. "Maybe it all is," he replied. "Why don't you ask Katy when she comes back?"

Mac looked at the local newspaper while they waited for their food. It was definitely a small paper but he thought he could read the whole thing while he was sitting there. He had been in small towns before but he thought this one was the smallest.

When they got their food, they found that it was very good. "You think that guy will give us any trouble on the way back to New York?" Don asked.

"He might try," Mac replied. "But if he does, we're going to give him some trouble."

"What's that sheriff's name?"

"Bronson." Mac looked at his watch. "Let's hurry and get done here so we can get back to that sheriff's office and get this extradition started."

"I'm for that. I hope we can get on our way back to New York tomorrow."

"I don't know. It's according to how fast their process works here."

"Well, it shouldn't take long since this is a small place."

"You might be surprised. The sheriff was too busy to meet with us when we got here."

Don frowned. "You're right. What could be so important that he couldn't even meet with us?"

"Oh I don't know. Maybe he had to go after a moonshiner."

Don tried not to laugh at that. "Really?"

Mac shook his head. "I don't know. Doesn't look like they would go after someone for that in this state."

When they were done eating, Mac and Don went back to the sheriff's office. The deputy was still there, but there was another man there who was sitting behind the sheriff's desk with his booted feet propped on the desk. "We're here to see the sheriff," Mac said.

"I'm the sheriff," the man behind the desk said without getting up. "Who might you be?"

"I'm Detective Mac Taylor."

"Oh. That detective from New York."

"I brought an extradition request."

"Where's your badge? I like to see a badge when I'm talking to somebody, especially when they're not wearing a uniform."

Don just looked at Mac. He thought that guy did not know who he was talking to. Mac took his badge off his belt. "That good enough for you?" he asked.

The sheriff stood up, and he was a tall man, and he spoke with a deep voice. He walked over to the counter and looked at Mac's badge. "You know that badge doesn't mean anything here," he said.

"It means something when it comes to that prisoner," Mac replied. "Now, I'm here to file an extradition request and I want to see the prisoner."

"He's working."

"Working?"

"Yeah. They get to do a day of work on the work farm."

Mac frowned. "Work farm? For who?"

"Me of course."

"And just how long will it take to get him extradited?"

"At least till tomorrow. You must know how that process works."

"You wouldn't be stalling, would you?" Mac asked.

The sheriff removed his shades and stared at Mac with hard, blue eyes. "I don't like your tone," he said.

"Well, I haven't liked anything since I've been here."

They glared at each other. Mac knew a crooked lawman when he saw one. He figured this sheriff ran this whole town the way he wanted it. "Can I see the prisoner?" he asked. "Where is he?"

"I told you he's out on the work farm."

"Well, why don't we just take a drive out there…unless you just don't want me to see it?"

Mac wouldn't have thought it possible, but the sheriff's frown deepened even more. "Sure," he said. "We can drive out there. You can even bring your…deputy with you."

"He's not a deputy," Mac said. "This is Detective Don Flack."

"They had to send two detectives out here for one prisoner?"

"We take murder very seriously."

The sheriff put his shades back on and then looked at his deputy. "Come on, Brett, let's take them out to the work farm," he said.

"Yes, sir," Brett Talmadge said.

Mac thought that guy sounded awfully eager. He looked at Don with one of his warning looks. He did not have to say a word because Don knew what it meant. "You fellas have to leave all weapons here," Talmadge said. "Can't take them out to the farm."

Mac stared at him a moment. "Why?" he asked.

"That should be obvious. We have prisoners working out there and if one of them got loose and…"

"They would have a hard time getting my weapon but I'll leave it in the car when we get there."

Mac and Don went outside. "What do you think about this, Mac?" Don said just above a whisper. "They send a prisoner out to a work farm who is supposed to be picked up today or tomorrow?"

Mac rubbed his chin a moment. "I don't know, Don, but I don't think this is the way an extradition is supposed to be…even in a small town."

"You think something happened to that prisoner?"

"I think there's more going on here than we know."

Soon, the sheriff and the deputy came out. "Why don't you just ride with us?" Sheriff Bronson asked.

"We'd just as soon ride in our own car," Mac replied.

"Just try and keep up then."

Mac and Don got into their car and followed the sheriff. "Mac, do you get the feeling we're going out in the middle of nowhere?" Don asked.

"Yes, I do," Mac said. "But I want to see that prisoner."

They followed them out far from the town, and into the mountains where they finally came to a fenced in area with small, wooden buildings. Don thought this looked like something out of an old movie. They pulled up to one of the buildings and got out. Mac was wearing his shades now as the sun was beating down. He looked around the place and could see that the prisoners were outside right now eating.

Suddenly, one of the prisoners came running over to the fence. "Detective Taylor!" he said. "Detective Taylor!"

"Quiet!" Sheriff Bronson yelled.

Mac took his shades off and looked at the prisoner. "That's Ian Hubbard, isn't it?" he asked. He walked over to the fence, noticing how angry the sheriff looked. "Ian Hubbard?"

"Detective Taylor, get me out of here," Hubbard said. "I'll confess to everything. I want you to take me back to New York."

"Really?"

"Yes. That guy's…"

Hubbard trailed off as the sheriff walked over there. Mac looked at him. "What are you doing to these prisoners?" he asked. "This guy looks like he's been beat up."

"Well, when they get out of line, they get a little discipline," Bronson said.

"I can imagine."

Bronson walked closer to Mac and they would have been nose to nose if he had not been taller than Mac. "Are you accusing me of something, Taylor?" Bronson asked.

Mac glared at him. "I sure am," he replied.

Suddenly, Mac saw movement behind him, and then something hard struck him. All in the same instance, he heard Don yell, "Mac!"

Mac hit the ground on his hands and knees. Don started to draw his weapon but then there was a .357 Magnum pointed right between his eyes. He froze in place. "You move, and it'll be your last," Sheriff Bronson said.

Mac shook his head. He was addled, but he was not unconscious. The deputy took Don's weapon and then searched him for any others that he was hiding. Don stayed still, knowing the effect that a .357 Magnum would have on his head, and he would never hear the sound. He was handcuffed, and then Talmadge got Mac up to his feet, although Mac weaved on his feet. He glared at the sheriff. "You won't get away with this," he said. "I don't care if you do rule this place over here."

"You're in no position to make threats, and I need some more workers in my mine."

Mac's vision blurred slightly and he thought he would pass out. "Bring him on," Bronson said.

Talmadge picked Mac up over his shoulder and they went to one of the brown buildings, taking Don along too. He dumped Mac on a cot in the room, and then searched him for any weapons he had. He found Mac's ankle pistol, and his Marine knife. Bronson stared at the knife a moment. "I think this one might be a problem," he said.

"Why?" Talmadge asked.

"He's a Marine."

They looked at Mac, who was lying on the cot. Don just stared at them. "You can't keep him here," he said. "He'll fight you."

"Oh, and what about you?" Bronson asked.

"I'll help him."

Bronson walked up close to Don being even a little taller than Don. "I think I'll take some of that rebellion out of you, Boy," he said.

Don tried not to show any sort of fear, but he knew this guy would be brutal, and he was in no hurry to be beat up. "I can smell fear," Bronson said with a smirk.

Don did not say a word, but Talmadge took the cuffs off his wrists and they left Mac and him alone. Don went over to Mac and knelt beside the cot. "Mac, come on and wake up," Don said. He patted Mac's face and shook him. "Mac!"

Mac moved his hand slightly and turned his head, but did not open his eyes. "Mac." Don lifted Mac up to sitting and sat down on the cot to hold him up. "Come on, Mac." He patted Mac's face again and shook him. "Mac, wake up." Don was afraid Mac might sleep a long time if he let him keep sleeping after being hit on the head like that.

Mac grunted and moved his head slightly. "That's it," Don said. "Come on and wake up." He shook Mac again. "Mac, we're in real trouble here. You have to wake up." Don let Mac's head lean back against his shoulder. He sighed as he realized he was not getting anywhere with this. "Mac, we have no way of getting out of here. That Bronson is a brutal animal." Don patted Mac's face again. "Come on, Mac. If you don't wake up, they might strip search you." He waited to see if that would get a reaction but Mac did not move. "They found your Marine knife. He took it. Doesn't that make you mad? He thinks he's gonna hold us here and make us work in his mine. I don't know the first thing about working a mine. Do you?" Don stared at Mac but he did not move. "We messed up, Mac." Don just laid him back down on the cot and got up. He looked out the window and could see Bronson and Talmadge dragging Ian Hubbard from the fenced-in area.

Don knew what was going on here now, but he could do nothing about it, and Mac was in no condition to do anything either. He figured that was why they wanted to incapacitate Mac. Don frowned. He could be just as dangerous to their little operation if he could get out of this place. But he knew he could not fight like Mac Taylor, and that Bronson knew it too. Don thought maybe if he got out of this mess he would start taking some sort of martial arts. But for now, he was stuck in this place…and Mac was unconscious.