This scene takes place after the bad guys have been subdued, but before rescue for the good guys has arrived.

Jim noted the look of satisfaction on Simon's face as he secured Lisa with the same rope his captors had been using to drag him along for the last day and a half. Jim's mind was racing as he roughly tied Quinn to a tree. He'd come very close to killing the man just now. He had hated Quinn since he'd killed the young police officer, but the sight of him raising his gun, getting ready to murder Blair and Simon, had put him over the edge. It had been way too close. His sentinel sight had seen the pressure increase on the trigger just as the explosives detonated. His friends had been seconds away from death.

"Hey, Ellison." Quinn's voice was calm and casual.

Jim ignored him.

"When I get out I'm coming for you, Banks, and that punk friend of yours." He raised his voice during the last part of his statement, causing Blair to look over sharply, fear flashing across his face.

Jim stared at a point somewhere behind the fugitive's head, trying to restrain the urge to punch the scum's lights out.

Simon finished securing Lisa, who remained silent and sullen looking. He glared angrily at the man. "Yeah, you're getting out all right, and I'm going to have front row tickets to your hanging."

Quinn smiled and looked at Jim. "You're all dead."

As Jim pulled the knot tighter than was absolutely necessary, he stood and turned to Blair. The young man was still holding the gun, although now it was resting on the ground. He no longer had the strength or the need to keep it raised. Quickly Jim walked over and knelt next to his partner. Blair was slumped at an awkward angle against the frame of the mine entrance, half-sitting, half-lying. His hair and clothes were soaking and caked with mud, and his chest heaved with the effort of staying awake and ignoring the pain. Jim gently removed the gun from Blair's hands, then brushed the hair from his face.

"Quinn had a two-way radio, Chief. Help's on it's way."

"That's good." Blair attempted a smile and failed.

"Were you hurt anywhere else?"

"I think the question is, where aren't I hurt?"

It had started drizzling again, and Jim noticed that Blair was shaking. "Let's get you back inside here where it's dry." The smoke had mostly cleared from the dark tunnel, and Jim picked up a rusty bucket filled with rainwater and poured it over the smoldering leaves. Simon had finished on the radio and was headed over. "Simon, can you give me a hand?"

Together they lifted Blair, who tensed and moaned at the unwelcome movement. When they had him settled, Jim checked Blair's leg. The wound was bleeding heavily again. Jim felt a moment's guilt. He wished he hadn't had to blow up the explosives shack. The force with which Blair had been thrown back had probably caused the renewed bleeding. He sat down facing his friend and readjusted the belt while Simon provided more pieces of his shirt as a bandage.

Simon looked at Blair with concern. "I'm going to go check out Quinn's backpack, see if I can find something dry in there to keep you warm."

"Thanks, man."

Blair's voice was weak and his eyelids heavy, the cumulative effects of the battering he'd taken since they started the search for Simon finally catching up with him. Jim wanted him to stay awake, fearful that he wouldn't be able to monitor his condition as well if Blair were out of it. "So tell me what happened after I left you last night."

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, the anthropologist took several deep breaths, trying to will the pain away. He exhaled slowly, then began to speak in an apologetic tone. "I fell asleep. I'm sorry, man. I tried not to, but my head hurt so much, and I was freezing and wet..."

"Don't worry about it, Chief. You probably had a concussion. I shouldn't have left you alone."

"Well, I woke up and I heard this sound. Twigs breaking. So I'm thinking it's either you or maybe some animal or something. It was pitch dark, like zero visibility, so I got my lighter out. Didn't do any good though. I called your name, but nobody answered. I started freaking a little, then, wondering what kind of carnivorous beasties were lurking in this part of the forest. Then I turned around and there was a rifle butt coming at my face. I didn't even hear the guy coming up behind me. The next thing I know it's morning and I'm staring at the cast of 'Deliverance.'"

"The guys from the waterfall."

"Yep." Blair moved around, trying to get comfortable and hissed in pain.

Jim put a restraining hand on Blair's arm. "Hold on, buddy." He closed his eyes and listened. Far off he heard the sound of helicopters. "They're almost here."

"Where are they gonna land? I didn't see any clearings on the way up here."

"I'm not sure, Chief, but they're experienced at this sort of thing. They'll figure something out."

"Yeah." Blair sighed and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, gritting his teeth.

"So finish the story." At least that had kept his mind off of the pain.

"I told them you drowned and then they started arguing about whether or not to kill me. The one guy," Blair gestured out into the rain, indicating the dead man. "tried to shoot me but his friend stopped him. They started fighting, and I took off. I heard a shot. I think he killed his friend."

"Sounds like it. You told them I was dead?"

"Well, yeah. They would have come after you if they thought you were still alive."

Even in the face of death, Blair had the presence of mind to make sure he was safe. Jim hadn't expected that. He squeezed his friend's arm. "Thanks, Chief."

Blair shuddered. "I have *never* been so scared in my life, man."

Jim would never forget the look of wild-eyed panic. "I noticed."

Blair looked up at Jim, suddenly embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry about that, man. I was babbling like an idiot."

Jim smiled at him, "A little."

Simon reappeared. "E.T.A. is about 10 minutes. I couldn't find anything dry. Sorry, Blair."

"That's OK, Simon. I'm not that cold any more." Blair said sleepily, then closed his eyes.

"Blair?" Jim reached over and felt Blair's pulse. It was still steady. Jim looked at Simon. He was as wet as the rest of them, and looked exhausted. "How you doing, Captain?"

"I'll live. All I want is a hot shower, dry clothes and a warm bed."

Jim smiled and nodded in agreement, keeping one hand firmly on Blair's arm. He almost felt as though he could judge the condition of Blair's entire body just from that single touch.

"What the hell happened to you two, Jim? Blair looks like he's gone a couple rounds with Tyson."

As Jim relayed the events of the last two days, including Blair's ordeal, the possible outcomes of the odyssey started flickering through his head like horror movies. Most of them ended with Jim finding Blair's lifeless body. He tried to banish the images from his mind. That kind of thinking wouldn't do him any good.

"I shouldn't have left him, Simon, but Blair was hurt and he couldn't keep up, and I didn't want to lose your trail. I honestly thought those two men from the waterfall were ahead of us." He looked at his partner, who seemed relatively peaceful now that he was sleeping. How could he have handled it if Blair had been killed?

"It was a no-win situation, Jim, and we all made it out alive. Pretty good if you ask me. I'm a little surprised you brought him with you in the first place."

"I tried to make him stay. He insisted on coming. If I'd left without him, he'd probably have followed me."

"Yeah, the kid can be mule-headed, can't he?"

"That's me." Blair muttered, opening his eyes. "The ever faithful companion. Attracting trouble so that Superman here can fight evil."

Simon smiled, one corner of his mouth turning up. "Faster than a speeding bullet?"

"Able to leap tall rednecks in a single bound." Blair giggled, then grimaced in pain.

"Helicopter landed about a quarter of a mile away," Jim said. "Another one is headed this way." He squeezed Blair's hand. "Be right back, Chief."

It had stopped raining as Jim and Simon left the mine and looked up, just as a search and rescue helicopter began to hover overhead. Two medics were lowered down with their equipment and Jim led them into the mine shaft. "The cavalry has arrived." Jim grinned at Blair, who had managed to stay awake.

Blair smiled weakly as the medics started to work on him, removing the belt and bandages and cutting the leg of his pants off. "Ow! Oh man, those were my best jeans."

Satisfied that Blair was in capable hands, Jim moved back outside. He had heard more people arriving. It was Mara and the local sheriff, and a couple of deputies.

The sheriff looked at the medics working on Blair at the mouth of the mine. "Looks like one of you city boys managed to get shot."

Simon growled, he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the man yet. "Looks like these city boys managed to catch your suspects for you."

The sheriff smirked. "Dumb luck."

Simon raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, tracking us through miles of forest in the rain while fending off some of your county's more colorful denizens probably had nothing to do with skill."

Mara interrupted. "Why don't you tell us exactly what happened here?"

It was Simon's turn to relay the events of the last two days, and Jim left him to it. They'd all make formal statements later, and reports in triplicate. He walked over to the sheriff's deputies, wanting to make sure that the prisoners were secured. If Quinn ever got loose again, they probably wouldn't be as lucky as they'd been this time.

Blair was being loaded onto a stretcher, wrapped up like a papoose. As Jim looked over, he saw that Blair seemed a little more comfortable and alert than he had been, but his face was very pale, and the darkening bruise on his cheek stood out in sharp contrast against the whiteness of it.

He listened to one of the medics ticking off Blair's injuries in awe. "Two blows to the head, possible concussion, smoke inhalation, exposure, gunshot wound, various bruises and contusions...did you *really* jump over a waterfall?"

"Yeah, man, I did." Blair seemed almost proud of his injuries, now that the initial shock had worn off.

Mara was standing over the anthropologist, listening to the conversation with rapt attention and a familiar light in her eyes. Even shot and bleeding, the Sandburg charm was working on overdrive. If the kid could bottle whatever it was that made women flock to him, he'd make a million dollars. He laughed affectionately as he caught a snippet of the anthropologist's conversation with the woman as the medics carried the stretcher a short distance away to prepare Blair for his helicopter ride.

"Can I ask you a question? Have you ever been shot in the line of duty?"

~~~The end ~~~