Chapter Eight of *The Vadarian Trap*

McCoy cursed loudly.

They had located the safe house and the grave in the woods with the remains of three Vadarian bodies. McCoy didn't want to hear their names. They had been his friend's abductors and he couldn't care less about their incongruous fate. He cared more about the blood found nearby.

Human blood. Jim's blood.

McCoy sank to his knees in front of the scene. It was no longer visible to the naked eye, but his tricorder was brutally direct: a great amount of blood, along with bone fragments, and a bullet, embedded deep into the soft forest floor. This event had happened forty-three days ago.

Cold, too cold.

Chekov came over and carefully put his hand on his shoulder. The Doctor shrugged it off. He knew he was irritable or, truth be told, explosive like a powder keg. Time was running out. The Vadarian intelligence was deficient and, in his eyes, untrustworthy. The trail was running cold.

And this, this now ... He wanted to stay here, on his knees, on the spot where his friend was so badly hurt, if not killed. To make a shrine, or a bed.

God, he was tired.

"Doctor," Chekov said gently, "we found more information in the house."

"What?" he grumbled hoarsely. He was tired of this seesaw of hope and despair.

"It's a map of sorts, just like at the other house. It's the informant's."

"The informant, the informant!" he griped, finally turning around to face Chekov. "This so-called informant has been leading us on a wild goose chase!"

"Doctor, he, or she, did lead us to this house," the Russian responded softly, "and we did find… proof, that the Captain was here."

McCoy sighed. He guessed if they had killed Jim they would have thrown him into the mass grave with the others. He got to his feet and swung his tricorder around one more time. Nothing more. No more bodies. No body.

"Sorry, Chekov," he said. "I'm sorry. Now show me that map."

00000000

The sketch was hidden behind a dresser in a bedroom. It was shakily, hurriedly drawn, and vague.

"What do you make of it?" asked McCoy.

"My best interpretation," said Chekov, "is that, from this house, they moved deeper into the forest, in the general direction of the northeast. These two dots probably indicate two intermediate safe houses, and the last one, with the cross, their destination. The connecting lines are schematic but I've correlated them to what maps we have of this area. They coincide with two old roads. But the map doesn't make it clear whether we are to stay on the first road, which goes all the way north, or if we are to veer east, onto the other one."

"How far?"

Chekov winced and shook his head once.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, it is impossible to say. But the first intermediate stop is on the first road. Maybe we'll find more information there."

McCoy gave the young Russian a grave look of despair.

"Pavel, what if our informant was one of the three we just found in that grave back there?"

Chekov remained silent. It was clear that he too had considered the possibility.

McCoy nodded.

"Let's go."

000000000

"Commander, I read abnormal fluctuations-" Lieutenant Dar, in the Navigator chair, spoke up.

Spock was already studying the scanner on the Captain's chair. He needed all of 1.6 seconds to determine the cause.

"A Romulan warbird, cloaked."

"Shields up, Mister Spock?" Sulu asked, his hand hovering over his console.

"Negative, Mister Sulu. They cannot fire on us while cloaked. Let us keep our small advantage by making them believe we have not detected them. "

"It's gone now, Sir," said Dar.

"Indeed," said Spock, looking up from his scanner.

He was well aware that all the eyes on the bridge were on him. Behind him Mister Scott entered from the turbolift and took up position at the Engineering station.

"Let us assume," Spock began, "that they have just arrived."

"Aye, Mister Spock," Scott took up the challenge. "That we detected them was due to their dropping out of warp."

"Their sensors and communications," Spock continued, "are as constrained by the Vadarian shield as ours, so they too need to utilize a shuttlecraft. But with the Enterprise already in position, they cannot uncloak to release their shuttlecraft."

"A-aye," said Scott, "they'd have to move to the other side of the planet, where our sensors can't detect them and our weapons can't reach. And they may have already done so, or they may still be off the starboard bow."

"Indeed, Mister Scott. And we are stuck in this position, above the area of the search. We cannot communicate the situation to our away team, and if we move away from here, we jeopardize the link with our own shuttlecraft. Also, if they have not moved to the other side of the planet, and we do, we will allow them to send their shuttle from the closest point to the Captain."

"Or," Scott put in, "if our shuttle emerges from the shield with the Captain, they will have an easy job of it whisking him away."

"At the risk of their shuttlecraft reaching the Captain first, it is clear that we must stay-"

"-Commander!" Lieutenant Dar interrupted him. "The Copernicus!"

At the sight of their shuttlecraft emerging from the shield, everyone on the bridge was hit by a pulse of energy. Even Spock was not immune to it. He stood up abruptly and barked:

"Who are the occupants?"

"Just the pilot, Sir," Dar said.

The pronouncement rudely severed the bridge from that almost unbearable expectation. Every time the shuttle appeared, the possibility was that the Captain was on board. Again their hopes had been dashed. And now there was the added threat of the warbird.

Even Spock permitted himself a small sigh, both of disappointment and relief. Had the Captain been on board, and if the warbird was still in the neighborhood, they would have been thrown, instantly, into battle conditions. The Romulans too would have determined the life signs on board. The shuttle's appearance had not drawn them out.

"The Copernicus is hailing us, Sir," Uhura said.

"Send them an encoded message to scramble their communications, Lieutenant. Now, open the channel."

"Commander," came the pilot's voice, "are we under attack?"

"Negative, Mister Kyle, but a Romulan warbird has arrived. It is cloaked. What news?"

"We found the safe house, and traces of Captain Kirk, Sir. Doctor McCoy determined he must have been badly injured forty-three days ago. We also found three Vadarians, Sir. They were shot. And we found a map in the house. I am relaying it to you now, along with our plan to continue the search."

Spock glanced at the information on the screen. It was sketchy, at best.

"Mister, Kyle, the Romulans probably know better than we do where the Captain is being held. I am afraid that the Enterprise can only remain here and disallow them to uncloak and send their shuttle from here. We surmise that they will send it from the other side of the planet. The distance that it will have to travel to get to your region will buy you some time - assuming it is underway, only about four hours. So return the shuttlecraft to the search, Mister Kyle. Hurry, and be prepared."