In Country 2

In Country Part 2

Jim looked at the man Blair named ‘Guardian’ and saw a tired man, face drawn by pain and sorrow but his eyes burned with a quiet anger. Jim remembered Blair’s story of how this man’s guide had helped him with his enhanced senses and wondered if the pain came from overextending those senses without the support of his guide. Guardian moved forward and stood silently beside the cot Blair lay on. Blair’s face was etched with an echo of the sorrow moving in the scout’s eyes. Blair spoke softly, hesitantly to Guardian, voice shaking at times. His voice dropped to a whisper as he finished, blue eyes pleading, begging for understanding, forgiveness, absolution. Guardian stood for a long moment, eyes closed, face a blank mask. A long, shuddering sigh escaped Guardian, the warm brown eyes opened and a small but genuine smile graced his lips. He bent down and placed his open palm against Blair’s heart, speaking rapidly, quietly and Jim watched as relief and not a little happiness replaced the anxious, fearful look on Blair’s face.

Guardian straightened, looked straight into Jim’s eyes and spoke again. Jim watched the man’s facial expressions, not understanding the first word, but comprehending the message from the tone of the words. Blair noted that Jim looked perplexed at first and softly began translating, “I did not want to lead the enemy to you and your men, but I had no choice. They are holding someone very dear to me as hostage and I must do as they demand. Mr. Blair knows of my abilities and though they helped my people in the past, I now curse them. And Mr. Blair knows that I hold no desire for revenge for what happened in my village. He was not to blame.” Blair’s voice broke again with that statement but cleared his throat and continued, “These men do not understand my language very well and that will help us in the future. You must contact your soldiers and tell them to be ready at any moment. Tell them do not give up hope.” Guardian fell silent as both he and Jim heard the approach of Filitov and Phen. They had company with them and Jim knew they were about to find out exactly why they had been brought here.

Filitov and Phen stepped inside, but Jim did not recognize the third man. Sandburg evidently did as Jim heard his heart rate double in a matter of seconds. Guardian also turned to the young man; he evidently heard the same thing Jim had. The stranger looked at Jim, then Guardian, finally turning his attention to Blair, “Well, you look better than you did 48 hours ago. Survived our little trip after all, huh?” Blair simply glared at him, bitterness filling those expressive blue eyes, “No thanks to you. I still want to know what the hell you people want with me!” This last seemed to drain away his energy as he fell back onto the cot, but those blue eyes were dark with anger and demanded an answer. Jim stifled a grin at the incongruity of it all. Here they were, prisoners, not only of the VC, but seemingly also of the Russians and god knows who connected with the third man, and this kid acted like he was ready to take them all on. //Peace loving hippie, huh?// His attention was caught as the stranger spoke again, “You, Mr. Sandburg, are the main cog in a wheel that we need to roll smoothly. You are the resident, make that, only, expert we know of on enhanced senses and therefore a very valuable commodity. We know you’ve already worked with, what did you call him, Guardian? And now with Lt. Ellison here.” Blair’s defiant demeanor washed away as horror came to the fore in his eyes. “So, you’ve been brought here to work with several ‘subjects’ who need your expertise and be trained to use their senses to their fullest and thus be able to assist us in our ventures.”

Confusion warred with anger as Blair struggled to comprehend what they wanted, but tried to buy some time. “Look, Mr. Brackett, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got me mixed up with someone else. I mean I’m pretty advanced in college for my age and everything, but an ‘expert’ in anything I am not! And..... The flood of words was interrupted, “Brackett,” Jim burst out, “Lee Brackett?” The man in question turned to him and nodded an eyebrow quirked arrogantly. “Weren’t you discharged from the Army with a dishonorable last year?” An amused smile graced Brackett’s lips as he nodded. “What the hell are you still doing here? Didn’t they ship you stateside at least as far as Leavenworth?” A vein stood out in Jim’s forehead. “Please, Lt. Ellison, or may I call you Jim? Lieutenant is so formal and since I joined ’the company’, since my disassociation from the army, I have found so little use for such formality.” Brackett’s smile grew. “I may not have been useful as far as the US Army was concerned, but I do believe I have found my true calling.”

“CIA? That figures! Ran into a few ‘spooks’ in my time here and have regretted every encounter. You people have your own agenda over here and it ain’t got nothing to do with the South Vietnamese people or democracy. Why don’t you give us a break here and tell us the real reason you’re here, Comrade Brackett?” Jim’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Brackett’s face reddened with anger and took a step toward him, fists clenched. “Enough of this talking!” Filitov moved between the two Americans. “We have enough work for all this energy you are wasting on insults. Lt. Ellison, you will be escorted to a separate holding facility while Mr. Sandburg is busy for the next few weeks. And you Mr. Sandburg will do exactly as we tell you or Lt. Ellison or another of your friends being held outside will pay for you insubordination.” He paused as the young man’s face drained of color. I have no wish to harm anyone, so you do as you are told and everyone will stay, shall we say, healthy.”

The guards moved up to flank Jim, rifles ready. Major Phen’s smile widened as he contemplated what might occur if young Sandburg failed in any way. Jim caught that smile and easily read the thoughts behind it. //You just keep on smiling Phen. Soon, very soon I’ll find a way to wipe it off your face forever.//

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Blair struggled to get to his feet as Jim was marched outside. He had barely managed to get upright when Phen whirled around as Ellison disappeared from view, striking out with his ever-present riding crop. The leather caught him across the face, just missing his left eye. Blood dripped from the wide gash and he toppled over to the floor. Shouts sounded from outside; shots followed closely. They turned their attention away from Blair who was holding the side of his face with both hands as Ellison burst in the door. They were so stunned they made no move as he rushed to Sandburg’s side. “Here, let me take a look, Chief. Shhh, it’s okay, just let me see what they did.” Jim’s voice was quiet, gentle as if sensing that tone of voice would reach the injured young man faster than loud commands. Blair shifted closer as strong arms lifted him from the floor, back onto the cot. Jim pushed his hands aside and took in the wide, shallow (thank god) gash. He spoke without looking away, “I need something to clean this with, some ointment and gauze right now.” Ignoring their enemies again, “Chief, it’s not as bad as I thought it might be. Head and facial wounds bleed a lot. You just lie still and we’ll have you fixed up in no time.” Blair simply stared at him, “How did you know? I didn’t even have time to yell or anything.”

Jim lowered his voice, “I smelled your blood, Chief. I guess I was still tracking you with my hearing when they took me out and suddenly all I could smell was blood. Your blood.” He looked uncomfortable as he made the admission. Blair stared for a moment then smiled in spite of the pain, “You knew it was me, my blood?” Jim nodded. “That’s amazing, man! You, I mean how can you tell mine from others? When did you know you could do this?”

Any answer Jim might have given was interrupted when Brackett appeared with the medicines and gauze. “All right Ellison. Here are the items you ‘requested’, so get him fixed up and do it fast. You have accommodations waiting for you.” Blair looked at him, eyes filled with entreaty. “You don’t need to do that. Just- just don’t do anything and I promise I’ll try to do everything you tell me to do. Please, I swear I’ll do anything, just don’t do anything.....”

Brackett laughed, “You promise you’ll try to do everything we tell you to do? Is that the best you can do kid?” Blair blinked back tears of pain and frustration that threatened to spill. “Well, it doesn’t matter what you promise because things are gonna happen just the way we have them planned and you will follow our orders to the letter. Because you have more than Ellison here to worry about. There’s Guardian here, then there’s Captain Banks, Sgt. Joel Taggert and, what’s their names? Oh, yeah. Couple of guys named Rafe and Henri, can’t recall the names of the three we’ve got in the hole.” Blair’s face paled more with each name recited. He tore his gaze from Brackett back to Jim who had been working quietly to clean the gash and bandage it. “Jim, man, I’m so sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I never, I was just looking for my research....I didn’t know something like this could ever happen.” Jim finished the bandage. He placed his fingers against Blair’s mouth for a second, “Chief, I know all of that already. No one’s gonna blame you for anything that has happened or might happen. We know who the blame belongs to,” he glared at Brackett, then switched that icy gaze to Filitov and Phen. He rose to his feet. “If you need him so bad, I suggest you keep that piece of pompous shit away from him,” indicating Phen. “You said you needed him in good shape, didn’t you?” Filitov nodded his head, eyes narrowed as he too contemplated Phen with distaste. “I mean it when I tell you, that if you hurt him any more, I will find a way to make you pay for it.”

Ellison stood quietly while the guards bound his arms this time, not even trusting that the threat of their rifles would intimidate the man. Jim stared at Filitov; the intensity of that gaze causing even the big Russian to worry about the damage this one could do if given the remotest chance. Jim turned to give Blair a reassuring smile, “I’ll see you soon Junior.” He marched quietly between his guards as Blair raised a hand, in salute, in farewell? He wasn’t quite sure himself.

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Simon, Joel, Henri, Rafe and the others waited, unwilling to talk until they saw for themselves that Ellison had lived after taking out his guards. He had gone along with them peacefully enough it had seemed, when suddenly he had raised his head, sniffing the air, then exploded into action. He was back inside the building before they realized what had actually happened. They all knew Filitov and Phen were still inside. Which meant Phen’s bodyguards were still inside, not counting the third man they had seen earlier. They had all wondered if he were also Russian. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Jim reappeared, bound but in one piece. He was marched around the building and disappeared from sight. “Anyone know what’s back there?” Simon couldn’t see anything behind the main building from his cage. “No sir. Seen a few VC coming and going from there, but no buildings or nothing that I can make out,” reported Pearson from the pit. “Thanks private. If you men see anything, and I do mean anything, you report immediately, got that?” The answer was instant, “Sir! Yes Sir, Captain!” Simon relaxed minutely. At least one of those three was alert enough to keep a sharp eye out.

“Simon?” came an urgent whisper from Joel. “Captain Banks! Have you noticed since that other man showed up, the other white guy, our guards haven’t been patrolling this area as much?” Simon straightened up a bit. He hadn’t but now that Joel brought his this to his attention, he thought about it.

“I’ve been a little distracted, but you’re right Sgt. Taggert. Thank you for paying attention when I wasn’t. Did you have something in mind?” Joel grinned, “Well, I’ve been dinking around with the lock on my cage and someone’s done us a favor Captain. The lock has been caught halfway and if I can get the right angle and enough time, I do believe I can get out of here.”

Simon couldn’t believe his ears. Could it be this easy? Or was this part and parcel of some plan Phen and Filitov cooked up? //No sense looking in this gift horse’s mouth. Might be our only chance.// “We’ll wait until nightfall. Pass the word on to Henri and Rafe. We’ll let the men in the pit in on this after you’re free.” Joel nodded, “Might as well try to get a little shut eye. Probably be my last chance for a while.” He smiled; turned to pass on the plan to Henri and Rafe, then all settled down for as much sleep as possible.

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Jim walked along quietly, aware that his guards were over alert to any move he might make. Outwardly he seemed passive, but he was logging every inch of ground they covered. He could hear muffled voices ahead so he took a chance and dialed up his vision to penetrate the gloomy forest they were heading into. He cranked up his sense of smell after his first good look. He gave no indication that he had seen anything, but inside he was planning furiously. //These guys have no idea how easy they’ve made this for me. Thank you God. Just please let me get out of here and back to my guys before Filitov has time to carry out any of his plans.//

They entered a small glen where sunlight barely penetrated the thick trees. One VC soldier stood at the entrance of an abandoned hut, lazily smoking a cigarette. Jim smiled inwardly as they stepped past. The interior of the hut was a shambles, but the entrance to the tunnel was already open. They climbed down the ladder and headed to their right. After about 20 minutes they reached a large ‘chamber’ where six VC loitered about. Jim’s guards secured his feet then tied him to the main support beam. Jim spotted the empty wine bottles along with a couple of whiskey bottles. An abandoned card game littered the one table he could see; two of the VC were lying on their pallets, obviously drunk or worse.

He made no move while being tied up, still impervious to what was going on. One soldier staggered up to him and started yelling in his face. Jim didn’t understand the first word, but he did remember the face. This was one of Phen’s soldiers they had captured just a few weeks before. //And just how did you and the little Major get away? Or did someone let you get away?// His thoughts were interrupted when the soldier spat in his face. The worst part of it missed, though what did hit his face stunk to high heaven of alcohol. Jim simply stared straight ahead as if the incensed VC was no where around. Winding down when he couldn’t get a rise from the American, the drunken soldier started to turn but changed his mind. He pulled his arm back and buried is fist in Ellison’s vulnerable stomach. The wind whooshed out of his lungs, his abdomen burned, but he never changed his facial expression. This perplexed the drunk but he had used up all his cognitive functions at that point and he staggered back over to an empty pallet and fell down face first. Jim managed to drag some air back into his lungs, taking slow, deep breaths to help control the pain in his gut. He wiped his face on his shoulder and went back to working the rope binding his wrists.

Jim figured at least three hours had passed before he noticed the ropes had loosened. He worked his fingers furiously, getting feeling back into the numb digits. He shifted cautiously from foot to foot, face twisting slightly with the pins and needle sensations in both legs having fallen ‘asleep’ from standing in one position for so long. Two of the guards were checking the length of the tunnel and the entrance, all the others were either asleep, drunk or well on their way. Jim had been careful to look either asleep or depressed when one of the remaining alert guards came around. When his legs, feet and hands felt more normal, he went back to working on his bonds.

Simon kept a close watch for any sign that their guards had observed Joel’s actions. Night had fallen just a few minutes before and Joel had promptly started working on the cage’s lock. Rafe and Henri were on alert from their vantage points. Pearson unfortunately had lost sight on Ellison quickly when he was escorted away from the camp and had only seen two soldiers return from that direction since. “Anything yet, Sarge?” came Henri’s anxious whisper. “Give me more than fifteen minutes, will ya?” Simon could hear the smile in Joel’s voice and nodded to himself. //Joel’s a good man. Hell, they’re all good men, even Pearson. Just hope Jim’s doing okay. Wonder what’s going on with the kid though?//

The kid in question was slowly reaching a boiling point. After Jim had been taken away, Brackett continued with his little sniping innuendos. Filitov had left with Phen, which was a blessing, but Guardian had been left behind. He had brought Blair some water and a small bowl of fish stew, then settled down to eat some himself. He did not look at Brackett, speak to the man, nor did he offer to get the man any food. Brackett noticed the snub and Blair had to hide a smile, hastily stuffing food into his mouth as Brackett stomped over to get his own food. The light moment passed much too quickly with Filitov’s return. And he didn’t come back alone. It wasn’t Phen, but it wasn’t much better. No, this was possibly worse, much worse. Guardian placed a reassuring hand on his wrist then took their bowls away. “Mr. Sandburg, I believe you have already met my business associate while you were in Saigon,” Filitov began. “He made it possible for Mr. Brackett to bring you to us and will be on hand while you are ensuring your friends continued well being during the coming days.” Filitov moved aside as the newcomer added, “Yes, Mr. Sandburg and I met a few times, but we were always interrupted. I take it that will not be the case this time?” Filitov smiled and shook his head. “Good, very good Gregor. So, you’ve eaten, gotten some rest?” Blair blinked at him, still incapable of speech. “Nothing to say, huh? Well, I say we get started. How about you Gregor?”

“As you Americans like to say, no time like the present friend Norman.” Filitov paused, “You do not mind if we begin this evening do you Mr. Sandburg? No, I did not think so.” He turned to his aide and gave quick orders. The aide stiffened to attention, saluted and made a smart exit. Blair sat down on his cot; mind whirling with plans and ideas hastily discarded. He would have to wait to see just what these men had planned, then come up with a way to get the others out of here safely. Filitov’s aide returned with three men. “Mr. Sandburg, please meet the men you will be working with very closely from now on. This is Sgt. Vastutin. Lt. Narmanov and Corp. Radcliff. Of course, Guardian will be working with them and you; you will teach them how to use their enhanced sense to the fullest. There is no margin for error or failure. Every time they fail a test of our design, it will be your fault and one of my prisoners, the American soldiers will suffer. And I do mean suffer, Mr. Sandburg. And you will witness their suffering from beginning to end. Do I make myself clear?” Blair looked from Filitov to Guardian, then back to Filitov. Scared blue eyes met calm, determined green eyes. The curly head bobbed once, the acknowledgment accepted in silence.

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Blair’s head was pounding, vision blurring from fatigue and stress. He had worked steadily for the past five hours, waiting patiently for translations when necessary with the Russians, ignoring the barbed gibes from Radcliff who was seemingly offended being taught by some long haired hippie kid. Guardian stayed close by and tried in small ways to divert the open hostility by actually paying attention to Blair’s instructions. All three men had two or three enhanced senses; sight, hearing and smell. The Russians were slow to grasp the concept of making mental adjustments by levers or dials to balance and control their senses and Radcliff was too distracted by his own prejudices to learn anything. Filitov and his cohorts watched the student struggle to overcome these stumbling blocks, but not once did they order a break. Blair rubbed his temples in a vain attempt to banish the pain and tried again, “You need to ‘see’ the dial in your mind. Then you can control it, move it up and down. Then you can make your sense of say, smell, be more intense or lower it when a scent is overwhelming.” He waited for the translations, trying to ignore the snort of derision from Radcliff. Narmanov and Vastutin shook their heads; Blair knew that once again they had missed the point. He shook off his body’s need for rest and started all over.

Filitov watched closely. He understood Sandburg’s instructions; even exhausted the student clearly presented the steps his men needed to follow in order to learn control of their senses, but neither Vastutin nor Narmonov were known as quick studies.

Two more hours passed and Sandburg’s speech was becoming slurred. He squinted against the glare from the naked light bulbs burning overhead and his ever-increasing headache. He finally dared a request, “Could I have some water please?” Filitov stood, crossed to the long table set up for the ‘class’, leaned over with hands flat on the table in front of Sandburg. “You need a short break, Professor?” Blair held his breath; afraid he had done something that would cause one of his rescuers harm. Filitov waved his hand and a cup of water appeared in front of Blair. He wrapped both shaking hands around the cup, fearing he would slosh it out trying to get it to his mouth. Just before the cup reached his lips, Filitov stopped it with a firm grip. “Before you drink that, I believe I need to conduct my first test to see how well my men have learned.” He took the cup away.

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Joel held his breath as he heard a click from the lock. He looked around quickly; he had not drawn the attention of the guards. He wiped the palms of his hands on his fatigues and slowly pulled down on the lock. It opened quietly, easily and he expelled his breath in a long slow sigh of relief. He removed the lock and swung out, pausing to let his cramped legs stretch. He smiled at Simon’s stunned look, then moved over to that cage. Simon had to strain to hear him, “I need the keys for the other locks. They keep them in that hut over next to the latrine. I watched the guard hang them up when they brought us that slop that was supposed to be dinner. You stay put and I’ll be back before you know it.” Not giving Simon time to say anything, he moved stealthily across the enclosure, giving Rafe and Henri the signal to wait for his next move. White teeth gleamed in the dark as both men smiled in relief and encouragement. Taking time to make sure his passage went unnoted, Joel’s hand closed around the keys as he sent up a little prayer for continued success.

He opened the cages holding Rafe and Henri and waited until both had crawled out and were able to move. Injuries forgotten, ignored, the three moved to Simon’s cage, freezing when a guard moved on the perimeter. Simons’ cage was opened and they waited once again while the big Captain worked out the muscle cramps brought on by the confinement. The four-man unit moved on. Pearson had watched them and had alerted the other two and managed to keep them quiet. The lock was opened and the heavy, rusted door of iron bars was lifted. Until the hinge squealed. It had never ever made the first sound when opened or closed, until right now. They abandoned all pretense of continued covertness. That squeal was loud enough to catch the attention of the men in the barracks. The three men scrambled out, Simon spotted their best avenue of escape and led them out at a crouched, fast trot. They were headed in the same direction they had last seen the VC leading Jim Elliosn.

Filitov heard the squeal. He stopped his probing questions for the three men Sandburg had been delegated to teach and drew his pistol. He grabbed Blair by the upper arm and pulled him to his feet as he gave quick orders, “Find out what that noise was all about. Check on the prisoners, all of them! Now!” His men hustled out the door and Filitov looked down at Blair, “If I were you I would be praying that all is as I left it.” Brackett ran back in and reported, “They’re all gone! Every last one! I thought Phen posted plenty of guards. He said we had nothing to worry about. Where the hell is he?” Filitov shoved Blair at Brackett, “You stay with our professor here and make sure he stays here! I will be back with Major Phen. And we will have some answers soon.” He stalked out and Blair thought to himself that he could almost feel sorry for Major Phen, almost, but not quite.

“Do you- could I just sit back down while we wait? I promise you I can’t make it two feet with this ankle.” Brackett didn’t respond, just tightened his hold on Blair’s arm. “So, how about we sit down and you can tell me a little more about this plan of yours that I’m so important to it’s success?” He tried to slip his arm out of Brackett’s grip, but that little maneuver brought Brackett’s full attention back to him. “Mr. Sandburg, I’m only going to say this once. Stay still, do not move, don’t even breathe hard. Or you will not enjoy the results.” Blair froze, eyes blinking slowly to acknowledge he totally understood the warning.

The muted sounds of the search outside were shattered by Major Phen’s incensed screams. He ran to each and every empty cage, then to the pit, the empty hole mocking him. His riding crop lashed out across the unlucky guards as he screamed invectives. Filitov nodded and this time Phen’s bodyguard yanked the crop from his hand, throwing it into the dirt. Phen turned in astonishment. He found himself being marched inside then turned to face Filitov and the others. Brackett shoved Blair down onto the hard chair, hand now clamped onto his shoulder.

“Your men were responsible for guarding the prisoners. You assured us that nothing would or could go wrong. Why is this not the case, Comrade Phen?

“I assigned my best men. It is hardly my fault that since you and the others arrived my authority and orders have been questioned in front of them. Little wonder they did not conduct themselves in the manner I trained them. You and your ‘business associates’ have undermined me at every turn. I should have had you shot when you assaulted me in my quarters, Filitov. And I just might order that now, you stupid, bumbling oaf.....”

A hole appeared in his forehead as Blair registered the sound of the gun being fired. Blood leaked down Phen’s face just before he toppled to the floor. His eyes remained open, along with his mouth, a look of amazement still on the dead face. Blair gagged, turned and emptied his stomach- right on Brackett’s shiny boots. He didn’t notice; after he had nothing left on his stomach to expel, dry heaves kept his aching stomach churning. Brackett had jumped back when he heard the kid make that first gagging, retching noise, but not before the regurgitated fish stew splattered across his boots. He growled in disgust and made to strike the kid across the head. His blow never landed; Filitov caught the hand on the downswing and shook his head. “You are needed outside Mr. Brackett. We need to find those men tonight if we are to conclude our plans. We will lock Mr. Sandburg in one of the cages and place our men on guard, while the rest of Major Phen’s men and ours search.” He shoved Brackett toward the door. “Move out!”

Blair slumped back in his chair when finally free of his wretched retching. The vomiting had left his abdomen sore, his headache now pounded with a vengeance and he could not get his vision to unblur. All in all, he could not remember when he felt worse, even when Jim and the others had first rescued him from Phen. That thought reminded his body that he had been on his feet for a while and his ankle joined the chorus and began its solo of vicious pain. A shadow fell across him and he let his aching head loll back and found Filitov in front of him. “Mr. Sandburg. We have a slight problem at the moment and I do not have the time or the manpower to guard you inside right now. You will come with me now.” He was again pulled to his feet and he tried to move forward, to walk on his own. Honest, he was really trying, but his ankle wouldn’t hold his weight and he found himself falling. Filitov caught him easily and, sighing, swung him up over his shoulder. Blair protested this abuse of his already abused stomach muscles but blearily realized no words were coming from his raw throat. He watched as the ground passed dizzily from his upside-down position, then was sliding off the Russian’s shoulder, making the world spin. He groaned as nausea roiled again, but that was forgotten when two VC picked him up and stuffed him into the center cage. A new lock was snapped closed and Blair looked around, trying to discern what he was seeing. All the other cages were empty, he thought. At least they seemed to be empty. He held one arm across his stomach while his other hand gingerly moved his bad ankle to a better spot in the small confines. Men darted in and out of the enclosure, all but three. These were either Russian or American, he couldn’t tell, but they were heavily armed and completely alert. And then he figured it out. Simon and Joel and the others had escaped! Blair wished he could do a jig or something, anything to express his joy. But then his brain caught up and his joy dwindled away. //But they still have Jim. And Guardian. Oh God, what are they gonna do to him? Damn Filitov. Damn Phen. Damn Brackett. And damn Oliver!//

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But they didn’t have Guardian. One quick blow to his distracted guard and he was armed and on his way. He easily tracked the searchers movements, moving rapidly through the brush, knowing his passing would be covered by the noise the VC was making. He caught enough light from the searchers’ lanterns to pick his way and made good time. He spotted the guard outside the rundown hut; the man made little noise as his throat was slit. The body was hidden behind the hut and Guardian slipped inside. He listened for a moment, then slithered down the ladder.

Jim Ellison slipped one blood-slickened wrist from its tether and gingerly freed the other. He found the knot securing the rope around his chest and worked it loose. That left his feet and the one alert guard who walked in as the rope slid down past his waist. Surprise passed across the man’s face, but the rifle jerked up and Jim barely evaded the round meant for him as he dove for the floor. He cursed as he kicked futilely at the ropes still binding his ankles. He rolled to one side as the next round kicked up dirt where he head had been a second before. He heard the sound of the next bullet slide into the firing chamber and knew he had run out of time. The guard wouldn’t waste another round, would simply wait until he had worn himself out trying to stay out of the way of the lethal projectiles. He closed his eyes and wondered why he couldn’t think of any of the words to the prayers he used to recite as a boy. Sally had told him it was important to protect his soul and stay close to God. //God, if you hear me now, please keep those I love safe. And please God, please get Simon and the others to safety, including the kid. Thanks.//

He waited for the pain of the bullet ripping through him, waited for the burning agony from the bullet’s path as it tore through tissue, muscles, organs..... and waited. He grew tired of waiting, tired of being tormented by the VC, opened his eyes and looked up at an upside down, grinning Guardian. He twisted to one side and raised up on his elbow. The guard was down, never to get up, blood pooling beneath his face. //Wonder why I didn’t hear him?//

Guardian made short work of the ropes around his ankles and helped him to his feet. Three VC were snoring, rattling the tunnel’s support beams. Guardian slipped over to a fourth man, lying quietly on a cot at the back and gently raised him into his arms. Jim realized the man was unconscious when Guardian smoothed a hand over his face without any reaction. Guardian’s face softened into a smile and he raised his head to look at Jim, back down to the man he held protectively and back to Jim. He spoke quietly and Jim could only pick out one word, sure that Blair had taught him that word. Guide.

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Simon cursed silently as yet another trio of searchers tracked mere inches from their hiding place. Every man held his breath until the enemy passed. When he thought they were safe he hissed, “Shouldn’t we at least be near where they’re keeping Ellison? I thought you said they headed this way, Pearson?” The young corporal stiffened, “Sir, this is the direction taken by Lt. Ellison’s guards. But I have no idea if they stuck to this direction or not.”

Simon growled in frustration. He couldn’t blame Pearson; the kid had kept a keen watch at all times after Ellison had been taken away. Unfortunately, Simon knew their time was running out. If they didn’t find Ellison soon, the VC were sure to find them. “We’re gonna stay together, no matter what, do I make myself clear?” Six heads nodded affirmative. “Good. Hand signals only. Move out.”

Cautiously, quietly they moved, avoiding the search patrols, weaving in and out, but always moving in the direction they had started.. - what, hours ago? The sky was lightening faintly in the east and Simon realized they would have to find cover soon, if they couldn’t find Ellison in the next hour. //Dammit! Where the hell are you?! //

The man in question stepped directly into his path so unexpectedly, Simon almost let out a yelp. Ellison’s face was impassive, but Simon swore he saw mirth dancing in the blue depths of shadowed eyes. Jim motioned for quiet, then signaled behind him. Guardian stepped out, carrying another man. Jim turned to Simon, spotting Joel and Rafe’s delighted faces crowding up behind him, Henri not far behind. He didn’t recognize the other three, but they looked relieved and pleased too. Jim made a circling motion. They huddled together and listened to Ellison’s plan. Simon looked at his men and they nodded in agreement. They were all determined Sandburg wouldn’t be left behind.

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Filitov was not a happy Colonel. He was very unhappy. No, make that very, very unhappy and Brackett was having thoughts of disappearing into the night just like the prisoners and Guardian had. But those furious green eyes were boring into his right now, and Brackett wondered if the man’s neck tendons might explode or something, they were so distended. “You tell me you cannot find not one of the men held here. All these men are unable to locate any sign of them; no one can track at night. Is this your report, Mr. Brackett?” Lee shivered at the threat heavy in his tone. “Sunrise will be in less than an hour, Colonel. They can’t have gotten far, what with all the men out beating the brush. We’ll have them back by nightfall. I guarantee.” Sweat dripped down his back, hoping his brave words wouldn’t come back to bite him in his derriere. “Very well. You have until sunset to have every man back in those cages.” Brackett swallowed heavily. “I need to confer with Colonel Oliver. Where is he?” Brackett, not trusting his voice, pointed at the large tent, set up just hours ago. Filitov started in that direction then changed his mind.

He moved quietly behind the cage holding Blair. The young man had succumbed to his exhaustion and pain a short time ago. Filitov studied the young face, noting the pale features, the lines of pain, the crease of worry between the eyes, even in sleep. Filitov wondered again at the knowledge crowded into that young mind. He had read Sandburg’s papers and knew this man was the key to his success, his security against the capricious nature of Soviet politics, his future. He may lose favor in Moscow, but when his plans reached fruition... - but they all revolved around this, this teenager! Filitov ground his teeth in frustration. Not being in control unnerved him and he did not like that feeling, nor feeling helpless. He fingered the syringe in his jacket pocket, debating if he should begin now or wait to see if it would become necessary. He hoped not. But knew he would use it to further his own plans.

He turned the cage slowly, studying the small figure inside. No, he would wait and when the other prisoners were returned, Mr. Sandburg would do as ordered. Blair, he thought to himself. No, Blair would do just about anything to ensure Lt. Ellison’s well being. Decision made, he let go of the cage and made his way to Oliver’s tent.

*************************************************************

Blair expelled the breath he had been holding since he woke and realized Filitov was hovering over him. The man just stood there and it was all Blair could do not to start babbling nervously. He hugged his arms around his chest, cold in spite of the warmth of the humid night. He looked around and noted the faint glow of dawn. Brackett was standing near the perimeter, nervously chain-smoking, looking for all the world like he was ready to bolt. Blair wondered what he had missed while asleep. He knew Filitov had been pissed when they found Guardian was missing along with the others. Blair couldn’t help but smile. //The man could move like a shadow when he needed to. Small wonder he got away. Hope he found the others and they’re headed for Saigon.//

Brackett threw away his cigarette. His mouth tasted foul and he longed for a gin and tonic, no just gin, right now. His mouth turned down as he thought about the unspoken warning in Filitov’s last words. If he couldn’t find Banks and the others, he was a dead man. //Wonder if I could steal a jeep and just get the hell out of here? Might take little Sandburg over there; sort of an insurance policy. Might be my only chance to get out of this one alive.// He studied the compound; no one near Sandburg’s cage and only three guards on the perimeter. Filitov, Oliver and their men were inside Oliver’s tent and would probably be in there for a while, going over their plans. Mind made up, he went into action.

Blair watched Brackett approach, wondering if he should yell, wondering what would be the worse of the evils in this hellish place. He hadn’t decided when Brackett opened the lock on his cage and gently pulled him out. Blair was so astonished at the handling, he couldn’t find his voice to question what Brackett was up to. A finger against his lips warned him to remain mute. Brackett half led, half carried him to the vehicles parked behind Oliver’s tent.

Brackett loaded him into the passenger seat and was heading around to the driver’s side when a huge explosion rocked the entire countryside. Brackett froze then cursed, dove for the jeep and started it up. Men spilled out of the tent, into the compound’s clearing. Filitov spotted the jeep immediately and drew his revolver. Blair remembered the last time Filitov had drawn that gun and threw himself from the seat as Brackett stopped momentarily to shift from reverse into first. He landed awkwardly, but wasted no time crawling under a nearby truck. A second, smaller explosion stopped everyone in their tracks, well almost everyone. Brackett tore out of there like the hounds of hell were nipping at his butt. Filitov emptied his revolver, but the jeep disappeared from sight in seconds.

Gunfire broke out and Blair did the only thing he could think of.....he made himself one with the ground under that truck and covered his head. The hell with being a hero. He had no illusions about trying to help by grabbing a gun, he couldn’t hit the side of a barn and right now, he couldn’t even walk. No, he’d stay right here for now, thank you ever so much!

*************************************************************

Jim and Guardian squeezed off each shot with deadly accuracy. Many VC were already lying dead, scattered around the clearing. Oliver’s men were returning fire, along with their Colonel, Filitov and his aide. Jim zoomed in his vision and easily noted the anger on Oliver’s face, to his great satisfaction. Filitov was another matter. Though furious, he was calm and this worried Jim. And where was Sandburg? Guardian told him that Filitov had had the kid put into one of the cages and he wasn’t in any of them. He searched for that heartbeat; not in any of the buildings. Going further and further, he kept searching, fear building that they had killed the young man or moved him to another compound. Then he heard it; rapid, pounding, scared to death, but it was Sandburg all right. And the kid was talking to himself. Jim grinned in spite of everything. Blair was berating himself for never, ever learning to shoot a gun when he was a kid playing Cowboys and Indians. Oh, no, not Naomi Sandburg’s little boy. He was always an Indian and the bow and arrow was his weapon of choice. Satisfied the kid was safe for now, Jim refocused on the deadly job at hand.

A third explosion sounded and Jim knew that all of Oliver and Filitov’s plans had all gone up in smoke.... with a lot of C4. And drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. Guardian had overheard their plans one night; they were going to have their men trained by Sandburg be point man on illegal drug trafficking routes and had been taking over the tunnel systems in the area. That’s why the villagers kept disappearing. Many were killed, others were put to work harvesting the drugs. It was a lot harder for the military to track down drug smugglers who were underground. With the enhanced senses, the colonels’ men could warn of most any danger to the operation, improve delivery and ensure they made lots more money. Well, that was all gone now and they would have to find a new venture, if they lived long enough.

Rafe and Henri were moving to a better position near the tent. They would have the remaining enemy in a crossfire after that. Jim found a target and gently squeezed the trigger. Another man down, then another. Henri and Rafe reached their position and began firing. Those that weren’t killed in the next few minutes of the firefight, threw down their guns and ran. Oliver was crawling back through his tent, stopping when Henri’s rifle barrel came down, touching the tip of his nose, crossing his eyes. “Good try there Oliver. But, we’ll put off that little road trip of yours for a while right now. Get moving, Mister!”

Jim, Simon and Joel gained their feet and moved in, eyes checking the ground ahead in case some of the dead were ‘playing possum’. Guardian stayed behind with Pearson and the others from Simon’s squad. Filitov rose to his feet at their approach, throwing away his gun with feigned disdain. His mind was working furiously. He was too close to success to have it all end now and to end this way. Simon planted himself in front of the big Russian, “Colonel, you are under arrest for espionage and will be taken to Saigon to face a military court.” Simon smiled at him; sharks would have been proud of that smile if they’d see him. Joel covered his laughter with strangled cough. Oliver’s men, those still alive, stood with hands on heads. Jim moved over in front of them, “You two were at the hospital with Oliver, weren’t you? Didn’t you learn then not to mess with ‘real’ soldiers?” He shook his head. “Well, after your court-martials, guess you’ll learn something.” Puzzled looks met that cryptic remark. “Come on now, you know what you learn at Leavenworth, don’t you? How to break big rocks down into little rocks for road work. Keep you in shape at the same time.” He smiled and it was a fine copy of Simon’s smile.

They placed Oliver’s men in the empty cages and pit. Henri and Pearson took great pleasure in double checking the locks, “Wouldn’t want anything to happen, now would we?” Henri winked. Rafe snorted and headed for the main building, hoping to find a channel on their radio to signal for help. Oliver and Filitov were bound back to back; Simon and Joel had used so much rope, they resembled nothing so much as mummies. Jim turned to Simon, “Sir, if it’s all right with you, I’m gonna go get Sandburg.” Simon looked around, “You mean he’s still here?” Jim nodded, a smug, pleased smile on his face. “Well, where the hell is he?” Simon hated it when Jim did that. “He’s hidden under Oliver’s transport truck behind the tent, sir.” Simon chuckled and waved his hand, “By all means, Lt. Ellison, go rescue our little professor.”

Blair noticed the quiet after a few minutes. He cautiously uncovered his head and peeked out from under his favorite truck. //Nice truck. Big, heavy, beautiful truck.// He’d heard more than a few bullets strike the body, but the truck had provided a safe haven. It remained quiet, so he wriggled forward to get a better look. His heart dropped to his toes when a pair of dusty boots moved in front of him. He froze, unsure if he’d been heard, praying the boots would move on. The boots stayed right in front of him and Blair wondered if the man wearing the boots could hear his heart it was pounding so violently. The boots shifted and fatigue clad knees knelt on the ground. Blair scrambled back, flight instinct taking over. A face looked under the truck and all thought of fleeing left as Jim grinned at him.

*************************************************************

Blair was ensconced on a bench seat in the back of his beloved truck. Blankets elevated his injured leg; a canteen of water was close at hand, his stomach full for the first time in eons. Guardian had left earlier with his Guide; Blair remembered his surprise and delight to see the young man. He had thought he had been killed with the others. Phen and Filitov had been holding him hostage to force Guardian to find the American patrol. Blair sobered at the thought of his Mom and Dr. Stoddard, the students and villagers; all those dead because of the greed of a few men. He had never thought he could hate, but right now he was glad Phen was dead, dead, dead! And he prayed that Oliver and Filitov and the others rotted away the rest of their lives in some windowless cell.

Jim checked the bindings of the prisoners, ensuring they stayed put for the journey back into Viet Nam. Henri would be driving one truck with Jim and Pearson doing guard duty and Joel was behind the wheel of the second truck with Simon, Rafe and the others guarding the remaining prisoners. They divided the prisoners, not wanting Oliver and Filitov to be in the same vehicle. Jim pulled himself into the back and sat at the end of the bench where Blair lay. “You doing okay, Chief?” Blair smiled, but kept a wary eye on the men sitting across from him. “Yeah, I’m doing fine here Jim, but, uh, couldn’t we like, sit in the front with H, or something?” Jim looked at Filitov as he spoke, “Couldn’t make you comfortable up there, Chief. Besides, you don’t need to worry about these guys. They’re not going anywhere.” Blair tried to smile at Jim but figured he didn’t look any too reassured.

They traveled in silence over the endless miles of makeshift road. Jim noted when they passed over into Nam from Laos; should be back to Charlie Compound in a couple of days. They stopped periodically to change drivers, make ‘pit’ stops and eat a few MREs, the only time the prisoners’ hands were freed. Simon pushed the men as hard as he dared, knowing that fatigue, stress and catnaps were a dangerous combination. Blair would fall asleep only to wake from a nightmare, always involving, revolving around, Filitov. Jim thought about switching Filitov to the other truck, but knew the Russian to be a greater danger than Oliver and he was best guarded where Jim watched.

A few hours later, the trucks rumbled to a halt and, while Rafe radioed in their position, they freed the prisoners one at a time to attend to nature. Oliver had turned surly, fighting at every chance, spitting invectives at them. His men were sullen, but for the most part docile. Filitov worried Jim. He knew the man was planning, but had made no move and Jim had no real reason to keep the man bound, other than a gut feeling. A few minutes later he wished to god he had listened to that inner voice. Rafe passed on orders from Charlie Compound and Simon had been filling Jim on the route when everything went to shit. Filitov had snapped Samuels’ neck before they could blink and had jumped into the back of the truck. Jim raced around, not two steps behind the man to find him holding Sandburg in a headlock, a filled syringe poised at his neck.

“I believe we are at stalemate, Lt. Ellison. If you do not do as I order, I will inject young Mr. Sandburg here with this,” he moved his hand slightly, then placed it against the throbbing vein, “and Mr. Sandburg will die a very unpleasant death.”

“What do you want, Filitov?” Jim kept his eyes locked with Blair’s, willing him to stay still and calm.

“You will drive me to a destination of my choice, and give me your word as an officer that you will do nothing to try to get away.”

Jim thought furiously but spoke quickly when the tip of the needle pricked the skin of Sandburg’s neck. “Anything you want, but you leave the kid here. He’s not going with us.” Blair opened his mouth to protest, but Jim raised his hand to halt the torrent of words. “Your word, Filitov, your word as an officer. Sandburg stays here with the others.”

“You have my word, Lt. Ellison.” He shifted until Blair was on his feet, shielding the bigger man. “Have your men move to the far side of the other truck. You will disable the truck so they cannot follow.” Jim nodded and stepped around the side. “You heard?” Simon nodded. Jim moved to the second transport truck and raised the heavy hood. He disconnected the spark plug wires and threw them into a nearby stream. “He’s not getting away with this, but promise me one thing, please Simon.” Simon waited, eyes burning with impotency. “You get Sandburg back to safety, you and all the others. Make sure Oliver pays for what he’s done. And don’t worry about me,” he grinned ferally. “I plan to take good care of myself and especially Filitov”.

The transfer was awkward, but Jim moved behind the wheel of the truck, Filitov beside him holding Simon’s favorite gun on him. He could hear Sandburg begging Simon to shoot the tires, blow up the engine, anything to stop Filitov. Filitov’s aide kept a rifle aimed at them as the truck moved out.

They watched until the truck turned north, then lost sight. The prisoners were loaded onto the truck while Rafe fished out the wires and built a fire to try to dry them out. Sandburg fell silent when the truck disappeared from sight, listless. Oliver started one of his tirades and Simon ordered him gagged, which Joel did gladly. Then, they waited.

******************************************************************

Jim drove with peripheral vision, keeping his main focus on Filitov. His white knuckled grip on the steering wheel had nothing to do with the miserable excuse for a road. Filitov had taken great delight in telling him that their destination was Hanoi and that Jim would become a new lodger at their most famous ‘Hotel’. He recited Jim’s new accommodation measurements, that is when he would be in a normal ‘room’. Jim’s continued silence seemed to encourage Filitov to further enlighten Jim about the turn his life was taking. Filitov’s aide had moved to the front of the truck’s body, listening to his Colonel’s words, nodding like a proper little marionette. With Filitov waving his hands about describing new torturous delights awaiting Jim in Hanoi, he twisted the wheel and sent them careening over the embankment to the river below.

Filitov bellowed in disbelief. Before he could bring the gun around to shoot, the truck crashed into the water and Ellison disappeared out the truck window. The water wasn’t that deep, but the current was swift and turned the truck around. Ellison fought the water and made his way to the back of the truck. He struck like a jungle cat, hands reaching like claws for the aide’s neck, twisting once and sending him to heaven or hell, and he didn’t much care.

Filitov was cursing, kicking at the door as the truck sank deeper as it was swept along. Jim rushed out the back with rifle in hand; the aide sure didn’t have any use for it any more. He swung the rifle over his shoulder, entered the water and swam with powerful strokes to shallow water. He turned and watched as Filitov crawled halfway out the window. Jim lifted a hand in salute, one finger more prominent that the others as he pulled the rifle up and took careful aim. He zoomed in his vision on Filitov, face filled with anger and terror and squeezed the trigger. Red blossomed from the center of the mangled face and he watched as the giant toppled into the water, still tangled with the truck.

*************************************************************

Simon watched as his men freed the prisoners in shifts to eat and visit a tree. Joel walked past with an untouched meal in hand, worried eyes meeting his. Concerned about Sandburg, he had tried to coax the young man into eating several times, but the kid always refused. He hadn’t spoken the first word since Ellison had left with Filitov. He simply sat there, hands dangling between his knees, head lowered, curly hair hanging like a curtain to hide his face. Simon knew he blamed himself for everything. The massacre at the village, Guardian being taken prisoner along with the man who was his Guide. Not to mention Simon, Joel and the others. But Jim Ellison... the kid had a real case of hero worship going there, not to mention he had finally found a true Sentinel. And because of that, because he had helped Sandburg, he’d been targeted and Blair blamed himself that Ellison had been picked by Filitov for whatever reasons, whatever plans that man had in mind for the Lieutenant.

Rafe and Henri finished with the prisoners and moved over to sit near Sandburg. He never acknowledged their presence. And Simon was afraid the kid might try to harm himself at some point. They loaded up the prisoners and cleaned up any sign they had been there, except for the truck; no way to hide those tracks.

Sandburg shook off any offer of help and limped painfully, slowly to the back of the truck. His mind wouldn’t shut down, the painful events of the past few weeks kept playing like some damned tape on an endless reel. He saw his mother, Dr. Stoddard, the villagers, the students, Filitov, Brackett, Phen, Simon, Joel, Rafe, Henri.... Jim. The pain of his failures weighed down on his heart, that pain overshadowing his physical pains. If only he had...had what? Never come here, never gone to Rainier, never been born? If he had never been born, none of this would have happened. Well, not all of it. Most of it. Not to Jim. Jim would have been okay, if he hadn’t rescued some wimpy kid who had no idea how to defend himself.

He lifted dull eyes to the road behind them, tears threatening to fall. He tilted his head and let the water drain back into his hair. He found himself staring once more down the road, and blinked. He rubbed his eyes and stared again. “Captain Banks! Captain Banks!” The big Captain came around the side of the truck, “What is it Blair?” Blair heard the gently spoken words, but was too wound up to notice he’d been called Blair. “Captain Banks, look down the road. I think I’m hallucinating or something!” Banks grasped a thin shoulder, “Why don’t you get into the truck, Blair? Come on. You need to rest and eat something.”

Blair shrugged off the hand and stared down the road again, squinting against the sun’s glare. Simon turned to look down the road to mollify the kid and blinked. “Taggert,” he roared. “Get your ass back here!” Joel slid around the side. And blinked. Rafe and H looked out the back, ignoring the prisoners for once, blinked, smiled blindingly at each other and grasped forearms in victory.

Covered from head to toe in a thick layer of white dust, Jim Ellison jogged down the road. He’d learned that mile eating pace while recuperating from the bullet wound to his leg. He was tired, his head hurt, he was starving and he’d never been happier in his life. Soon his back was being pounded by Simon and Joel, both coughing from the dust that billowed. His hands were crushed by Rafe and Joel and Pearson and Matthews before they went back to guarding Oliver and the others. He turned to Blair who had watched with huge blue eyes, but made to move to greet Jim.

“Hey Chief. What are you doing standing around on that bad leg? I thought I gave you strict orders to stay off your feet, except for a visit to the latrine.” Those blue eyes shimmered before huge, fat tears fell down the pale face. “I thought I had killed you.” The voice rasped with emotion. “I couldn’t have lived with myself knowing I’d killed you too.” Strong, filthy arms hugged him to an equally dirty chest. “No way, Chief. We’re a team you know. I’m the Sentinel and you’re the Guide.” Startled, grateful blue eyes looked up at him. “I thought I told you this already. I’ll always find you.”

The End