Inevitable Series 06 The Unavoidable Page 8

  He pushed himself to his feet, his gaze shifting to Brackett. He lay on his side, unconscious. Blair knelt beside him, gently peeling back his shirt to see the wound beneath. He looked up at Jim, his face pale. "This looks bad."

  Jim crouched down beside him and shifting Brackett onto his back, pressed his hand against the wound, applying pressure. "I'm going to try and slow down this bleeding. You find a phone and get an ambulance out here."

  Blair nodded and standing, made his way quickly across the room.

  "Hey, Chief," Jim yelled, just as his partner reached the door.

  Blair glanced back at him. "Yeah, Jim?"

  He indicated Drake with a nod of his head. "Good shot."

  Blair cocked one eyebrow. "Actually, I was aiming for his gun hand," he said and then disappeared through the door.

  Jim looked back down at the wound high in Drake's left shoulder. A shudder went through him. He sent out a silent thank you to whoever or whatever had watched over his Guide in those few crucial moments. "No more guns for you, Chief," he muttered.

  #####

  Thomas Drake shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position in his hospital bed. The handcuff around his left wrist pulled tight, limiting his movement. He glared down at the metal ring. He hated being restrained. They'd shackled his feet as well as his hands and it infuriated him. If not for these cuffs....

  He smiled. There was a way around everything. His eyes slipped closed as he let his mind drift back to the night nurse. What was her name? Helen? Ellen? Elaine? Yes, that was it. Elaine. He had noticed how she looked at him. How she seemed to fuss over him more than the other nurses. Elaine. She could be exactly what he needed.

  It had been two days since Sandburg shot him. Two days since he'd been taken into custody. Two days since the D.A. showed up in his hospital room offering him a deal. Kidnapping. Aggravated assault. Ten to twenty years. He let out a low chuckle. He preferred to take his chances at trail. After all, it was quite possible that the people being called to testify against him would never make it to the witness stand.

  "Accidents do happen," he muttered.

  Softly, the door to his room opened and closed. Footsteps padded toward his bed. "What is it now?" he grumbled, opening his eyes.

  Detective Jim Ellison stood at the side of the bed, staring down at him. "The D.A. is going to visit you again today, Drake. You're going to accept his deal this time."

  Drake stared up at the detective. Did Ellison really think he could intimidate him? That there was anything he could say to him that would make him take that deal? Men like Ellison were limited by their innate sense of humanity. It left them powerless. An easy mark for someone like him. There were lines Ellison would never cross that Drake didn't even see. {And then there's Sandburg} – another weakness of Ellison's that Drake could exploit. {Never let your enemies know so much about you.} He smiled smugly. "Why would I take that deal?"

  Ellison reached over the side of the bed and placed his hand on the bandage covering Drake's left shoulder. He pressed down. "Because I'm asking you so nicely."

  Drake gritted his teeth as pain rocketed through him. "Ellison, you son of a bitch." He fumbled beside him on the bed, trying to find the call button.

  "What's the matter, Drake? Do you need a nurse?" Ellison snatched up the call button and dropped it over the side of the bed...out of reach. "What do you say? Is that deal looking better to you?" He increased the pressure on Drake's shoulder.

  His hands pulled tight against the cuffs encircling them. "You can't do this!" he gasped. The pressure only increased.

  "This is mild compared to what I'll do if you don't take that deal." Ellison leaned down, his voice deadly soft, "I want you out of our lives. Ten to twenty is a good start."

  And as Drake stared into Ellison's cold eyes, he realized that he had completely misjudged this man.

  ######

  Lee Brackett lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His leg and his shoulder were both throbbing dully, making him uncomfortable. He'd been given his pain medication ten minutes earlier and just hoped it would kick in soon. He glanced at the pile of magazines that had been left on his bedside table. Dropped off by Sandburg he'd been told. But he just didn't have the concentration he needed to read them.

  His gaze drifted to the only window in the room. Mid-morning sun poured in, warming his room. According to the nurses, Sandburg had actually sat beside his bed when he was brought back from surgery. Would have stayed all night except Ellison eventually came and collected him. Bracket smiled. "One of a kind," he muttered.

  He shifted in his bed, trying to alleviate some of the pain from his leg. When he first came to, he had expected to find himself restrained. A prisoner of the Cascade P.D. Not the first time that had happened. But he'd been free. Unguarded. Only this morning did he find out that he would remain that way.

  He still didn't know how, but Therman and Grahm had managed to get him early parole when he had been released before. And since he had never been connected to their deaths and had been a victim in this latest encounter….well, there were simply no charges against him. When he was fully recovered, he would walk out of this hospital a free man.

  He just needed to decide what he wanted to do with that freedom.

  He glanced toward the door as it opened. Sandburg peered around the corner. "Hey, you're awake." He came in, smiling warmly. "How you feeling?"

  "I've been worse." He pressed the button on the side of the bed, moving into a better sitting position. "How about you?" He nodded toward the bruise on the side of Sandburg's face.

  "Jim and I were both checked out. We're fine."

  "That's good."

  Blair settled into the seat beside the bed. "So are you bored out of your mind yet?"

  "With my pile of magazines to keep me busy? Are you kidding?"

  Blair laughed. "Hey, I know how boring it can get in here. I thought they might help."

  Brackett nodded, suspecting Sandburg had visited the hospital more times than he wanted to remember since first meeting Jim Ellison. He looked past Sandburg, back toward the door. "Is Ellison waiting outside?"

  Blair shook his head. "He said he had something else he needed to take care of."

  He returned his attention to Sandburg. "Doesn't plan to visit me though, does he?"

  "Jim is grateful for what you did—"

  "But he doesn't really trust me," Brackett cut in. "Believe me, Sandburg, I'm a realist. I know that will never happen. Hell, I wouldn't trust me if I were him."

  Blair shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze apologetic. "It's not that he doesn't trust you. It's just…it's hard to earn Jim's trust."

  "Yeah. I think you cornered the market in that area."

  "I don't know about that," he mumbled, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

  Brackett stared at Sandburg, amazed that the kid had no idea the influence he had over Ellison. Didn't see how different the man had become since meeting him. {It's because he just expects the best from everyone. Expects people to do the right thing for the right reason.} That's what stunned Brackett the most about Sandburg. The way the kid could trust in someone else's sense of right and wrong. Trust them to the point of putting his life into their hands. A part of Brackett he didn't even know still existed within himself didn't ever want to disappoint Sandburg. Make him see that he had been wrong to believe in him. "So is this just a friendly visit?" he said finally. "Or did you come here for something specific?"

  "I'm here because I wanted to thank you," Blair said simply. "I never got the chance to at the warehouse and you've been pretty out of it until today."

  "It's not necessary," he said, his eyes slipping closed as the medication began to take hold of him. He chuckled as a new through struck him. "I heard you shot Drake. That had to piss him off royally."

  "I was lucky," Blair said softly. "Very lucky."

  "We were all lucky," Brackett said around a yawn. His limbs felt heavy, his mind dull
ed. He thought he might have drifted off for a while but when he opened his eyes again, Sandburg still remained in the chair beside his bed. He fingered the cast on his left arm, his gaze lowered, his brow creased in thought. "Something else you want to say?" he asked, confused by the grad student's sullen expression.

  "I'm just wondering…what do you plan to do when you get out of here?" He looked up, his gaze hopeful. "I mean, you've got a clean record right now. You could do anything and—"

  "I'm thinking about retiring," he cut in, stopping Sandburg's lecture before it started.

  Blair grinned, his relief obvious. "You are? That's great."

  "Yeah. I think I'm getting too old for all this." He ran a hand over the bandage on his shoulder. "Just too risky." He tried and failed to suppress a yawn.

  "You need your rest." Blair stood. "I'll come and see you again before they release you." He started to turn but then stopped and reaching over the side of the bed, placed a hand on Brackett's good shoulder and squeezed briefly. "I'm glad you're going to be okay." He withdrew his hand just as quickly as he had touched him and then turned to go.

  "Hey Sandburg," Brackett called just as Blair reached the door. The grad student turned back to face him. "Thank you."

  Blair stared at him, his brow creased. "For what?"

  "For saving my life."

  "Hey, man, I almost got you killed."

  "I'm not talking about Drake," he said softly.

  Sandburg smiled, his eyes sparkling with a purity that Brackett had never seen before. "You did that all on your own," he whispered and without saying another word, he slipped through the door and was gone.

  ######

  Jim leaned against the wall outside Brackett's room, waiting for his Guide. "So how's Brackett?" he asked as Blair stepped out into the hallway.

  "He's doing okay." Blair smiled up at him. "Actually, he's doing great."

  "Thanks to you," Jim said, placing a hand on Blair's shoulder, gripping tightly. "I heard what Brackett said to you, Blair. About saving his life. He was right."

  Blair shook his head. "No one can change another person. You change yourself."

  "You're wrong, Chief. I know firsthand."

  "Jim, you give me too much credit."

  "And you don't give yourself enough." He gave his partner's shoulder a gentle squeeze and then placing his hand at the center of his back, began steering him down the hall toward the exit. "Come on. I'm hungry."

  "You're always hungry, Jim."

  "That's because we never get to eat. Wanted Chinese the other day, end up being captured by Drake instead. And believe me, the man was not willing to go out for Moo Shu Chicken."

  Blair laughed. "Good point."

  They reached the parking lot and crossed to the truck. Jim settled behind the wheel but did not start it right away. "Blair, did Brackett say anything more when you were with him? About you?"

  "Like what?"

  Jim let out a long breath. "When we were together, he managed to figure out a lot of things about you. About what you are to me. To the whole sentinel thing."

  "I'm not surprised," Blair said. "I mean after everything he's seen…I think certain things would become obvious to him." He slanted a glance at Jim, his brow furrowed. "Why? Does that bother you?"

  "Yes, it bothers me," Jim admitted, his hands gripping and regripping the wheel before him. "I don't like that fact that he knows so much about you."

  "Hey, man, join the club. That's how I've felt for the last three years." Blair shrugged one shoulder. "I don't think it matters. I mean, I'm not like you. It's not like what I do for you could ever be used by someone else. I'm only important to you, Jim."

  "We're important as a team, Blair. That's what scares me." He turned his full attention on his partner, his earlier fears rushing through him again. "Blair, if what we are is ever found out—"

  "Who's going to find out?" Blair cut in, his voice overriding Jim's. "Anyone who did know is dead. Okay, except for Brackett but Jim, I don't think he's going to say anything to anyone. Besides, we can't really begin to worry about things that haven't even happened yet. We'll just drive ourselves nuts."

  Jim nodded, seeing the logic behind his Guide's words. "You're right. I'm not going to worry about it." He turned the key, cranking up the ignition.

  "Good. Let's go get some lunch."

  Jim steered the truck out of the parking lot. As he drove through the streets of Cascade, he did his best to try and push away the worry that had been gnawing at him for days. But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was waiting for them just around the corner.

  The end.