The Wrong Target Part 2
The Wrong Target Part 3
By Margie
Jim closed the magazine he had been flipping through and glanced up at the clock
that hung above the waiting room door. It had been three hours since Daryl Banks
had been taken to surgery. Jim had remained with Simon, leaving only once to
check on his Guide. Joan Banks had returned for a while, but had decided to
venture down to the hospital cafeteria for some refreshment. Simon had refused
to leave. After his emotional release, he had spent his time either gazing out
the window or pacing the room.
"Simon," Jim stood as
he heard approaching footsteps and moved over to stand beside his captain.
"Captain Banks," Dr. Ragnot entered the room and came over to them.
"Doctor?" Simon searched the doctor's face for any sign of hope. The
smile that he saw on the other man's face had him sagging in relief. "He's
alive. My boy's alive." He whispered.
"Indeed, he is, Captain. And I have to tell you, he is one spunky
kid," the doctor's words brought a smile to Simon's face.
"How is he doing?" Jim asked.
"The damage to his heart wasn't as bad as we had originally thought. It
just nicked it and didn't enter the heart itself. His left lung had collapsed,
however. We reinflated his lung, he has a chest tube and we had to control some
heavy bleeding, but all in all, he is one lucky young man."
"When can I see him?"
"We're going to move his into ICU overnight, just as a precaution, but then
he will go to a regular room," the doctor explained. "You can see him
for a few minutes when they get him settled."
"Thank you, Doctor," relief made Simon's voice crack as he shook the
doctor's hand.
"Doctor Ragnor?" Simon stopped the other man before he turned to
leave.
"Yes?" the man turned a questioning gaze to the tall Captain.
"He's really all right?"
"Captain, when I left young Mr. Banks, he was already awake and wanting a
hamburger and a coke," The doctor's words brought a huge smile to Simon's
grim features.
"He's already awake?" Simon sounded surprised.
"Yes, he is. I'm not going to lie to you, he is having some pain, but he
seems more worried about being hungry that any discomfort that he is
experiencing."
Simon's laughter filled the room, causing the two other men to smile in return.
"That's my boy."
"I'll see to it that he gets as many hamburgers as he wants as soon as he's
up to it," Jim patted his Captain on the back.
"You're not the only one," Simon returned. "I have to find his
mother and let her know," He turned concerned brown eyes toward Jim for a
moment.
"You go ahead, Simon. I'm going to be with Sandburg if you need me for
anything," Jim smiled at his friend.
"Thanks, Jim," He said before leaving the room.
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Jim watched Simon as he strolled down the hall toward the elevators before
turning back to Dr. Ragnor.
"Doc, you're a miracle worker," he complemented the man.
"It's not me, Detective. I just patch them back up--it's up to God and the
individual to work the miracles," Dr. Ragnor said with a smile. "By
the way, how is that partner of yours? I haven't seen him since this
morning."
"He's doing good. Still hurting a bit, mostly when he talks."
"Each day will be a little better," the doctor reassured. "I saw
someone brought him a slate. That should help him with communication."
"Blair will always find a way to communicate, doc," Jim laughed.
"I had that feeling," the doctor smiled. "Well, I guess I'd
better go earn my pay." He added, reaching out to shake Jim's hand.
"I'll see you later," Jim said as the doctor left the room.
###############################################################
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Jim returned to Blair's room to find him sitting up in bed trying to drink some
juice. He returned the younger man's smile and moved to stand beside him.
"Need some help?" he asked, noticing the shaky hand that held the
juice cup.
Blair shook his head, carefully bringing the cup to his mouth to show his friend
that he was trying for independence. Jim chuckled at his partner's triumphant
grin when he finished the juice.
"How are you feeling?" he asked as he pulled the chair closer to the
bed and sat down.
"Good," Blair answered, but gave a slight wince as the sound left his
lips.
"Here," Jim reached over and grabbed Blair's slate. "Let's try
this."
He helped Blair position the board on his lap and handed him the pen.
I'M SORRY I SLEPT SO LONG. WHERE DID YOU GO?
"I had some business to take care of. Did you need me for something?"
Jim decided not to mention Daryl's injury.
NO. JUST WOKE UP AND YOU WERE GONE.
"I know, buddy. I'm sorry," Jim reached out to touch his friend's arm.
"I saw Dr. Ragnor, though. He said you were doing good."
Blair nodded, then turned a serious glaze toward Jim. "Jim..."
"What is it, buddy?" Jim asked, gently stroking Blair's arm.
"I..." Blair winced, then sighed in frustration.
"Take it easy. Why don't you use the slate? That's what it is for."
Nodding, Blair turned his attention back to the board. Erasing his previous
statements, he frantically started writing.
NOT ME. SIMON.
"I know, Chief. Simon already figured it out."
IS HE OKAY?
"Yeah, he is."
DID THEY GET HIM?
"Him?"
THE MAN.
"What man?"
THE MAN WHO SHOT ME.
"No, not yet," Jim replied cautiously, not wanting to upset his
partner.
This was the first real clue that they had in the case, but Jim did not want
Blair to get upset. He wanted to question him further, but wasn't sure how to go
about it.
WHY? WHAT HAPPENED?
"Chief..." Jim stopped when he saw the young man's head droop
slightly. He noticed small tremors shaking his slight frame. "Hey, why
don't you get a little rest? We can talk about it later."
Reaching over, he took the slate away from his partner and placed it over tot he
side.
"Jim..." the soft voice raised in objection.
"I mean it, Blair. I know we have to talk, but not right now," Jim
lowered the head of the bed and repositioned the younger man on his pillows.
"Try to get a little rest. We'll try again later."
"But..."
"Ahhh...." Jim pointed a warning finger.
Blair sighed in frustration, but was secretly relieved as his newfound energy
was rapidly dissipating. Although he wanted to pursue the matter, sleep pulled
at his weary eyes.
Jim watched as his Guide succumbed to his exhaustion. He sighed as he leaned
back in his chair. Jim wanted this case resolved, but was unwilling to
jeopardize Blair's recovery to do it.
Glancing around the room, his eyes fell on the files that he had carried in with
him that morning. Reaching over, he grabbed them, flipping open to the first
page. He stared at the picture of Greg Welborne for a moment, then sighed.
Jim knew this case needed closure. The events seemed to have happened a lifetime
ago. He could not help but think of Daryl Banks. Daryl was fourteen also. But
his life had been filled with love and support from two loving parents. Jim
wondered if Greg would have turned out differently if his parents would have
survived and he hadn't been lost in the system of bureaucracy.
Determined to sign off on this file once and for all, Jim settled down in his
chair and started to read through the file he held in his hand.
It took about thirty minutes for Jim to read through the social services reports
on the short life of Greg Welborne. Several photographs had been placed in the
files and one in particular caught Jim's attention. The person in the picture
looked vaguely familiar, but he could not understand why. He did not know this
person, of that he was sure. But nevertheless, the face struck a cord in the
Sentinel.
A soft knock at the door brought his thoughts back to the present. Jim smiled as
Simon eased the door open and quietly stepped into the room.
"Jim," he said as he approached the bed, smiling as he gazed at the
sleeping Sandburg. "Just thought I'd stop by for a few minutes." He
whispered.
"How you doing, sir?" Jim asked, placing the files on the bed beside
Blair and standing up.
"I just left Daryl. Thought I'd stop by and see Sandburg before I
left," Simon explained. "I wanted..." he stopped talking when Jim
held up a silencing hand.
"Let's step outside for a minute, sir," Jim nodded at the sleeping
man. "He's had a busy morning. I don't want to disturb him."
Simon nodded then proceeded Jim out the door.
"He doesn't know, does he? About Daryl, I mean," Simon asked as he
turned back toward Jim.
"No. I didn't think it was a good idea. He's got enough on his plate right
now," Jim said. "Besides..."
"What is it, Jim?" Simon asked when the other man paused.
"He wants to talk about the shooting. He tried to tell me about the shooter
earlier."
"And?" Simon straightened, giving the detective a sharp look.
"He tired out before we got very far."
"Damn it, Jim. This could be the break we have been looking for."
"Simon. I know. But I'm not willing to risk Sandburg's health," Jim
returned.
"I know, I know..." Simon said with a sigh. "It's just
that..."
"You're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you, sir?" Jim placed a
supporting hand on his captain's shoulder. "About Daryl."
Dark brown eyes met light blue ones. Understanding flowed between the two men.
"Yes, I do, Jim," Simon nodded. "Daryl was shot to get at me.
Probably the same person who shot Sandburg."
"Do you have idea who this maniac might be, Simon?"
"No. Joel and Rafe are checking into old case files, but I can't seem to
get a handle on it."
"Maybe I can..." Jim hesitated for a moment, his head swinging around
to stare at the closed door behind him.
"Jim? What's the matter?"
Jim frowned when he heard Blair's heartrate skyrocket. Pushing past Simon, he
hurried into the room, determined to take care of whoever or whatever had
frightened his Guide.
Blair was sitting up in the bed, his breaths coming in painful gasps.
Jim reached the bed in two strides, gently reaching out to pull the younger man
into his embrace; he tried to calm him. "Easy, Chief. I'm here."
"JIM!"
"Blair, settle down. You're going to hurt yourself," Jim started
rubbing the trembling man's back and shouders.
"Sandburg. You okay?" Simon moved up beside Jim, worry evident in his
eyes. "Jim, what's wrong?"
"I don't know, sir," Jim looked up at the captain.
"Jim..." Blair grabbed at Jim's arm, frantic eyes meeting the
Sentinel's.
"What is it, buddy?"
Blair pushed back slightly; reaching down he picked up the files that Jim had
left on the bed.
"Jim," the strained voice caused Jim and Simon to wince in sympathy.
"What is that?" Simon reached out to take the files.
"I'm sorry, Chief. I was reading that. I didn't mean to leave it on your
bed," Jim explained. "Is that what upset you?"
Blair shook his head, pulling at Jim's arm. "No. It's..."
"This is the Welborne kid's file, Jim," Simon interrupted as he looked
through the file. "What's it doing here?"
"I had forgotten that I had it in the truck. I found it this morning and
thought I'd finish up while I stayed with Sandburg," Jim explained.
"JIM!" the anguished cry brought the attention back to Blair.
"Blair! Settle down. What is wrong with you?"
Blair pointed to the file that Simon held in his hand. "The man..."
Tears of frustration filled the younger man's eyes as his voice cracked. Placing
his head on his Sentinel's shoulder, he gasped as the attempt to speak became
too painful.
"Man?" Simon sent a confused frown toward the two men on the bed.
Understanding spread over Jim's face and he reached for the file in Simon's
hand. "Simon, let me see that for a minute."
Easing Blair back on the bed, Jim opened the file and showed it to Blair.
"Is this the man, Chief?" Jim held up the picture that he had been
looking at earlier.
"What man, Jim?" Simon's confusion grew.
Blair nodded and pointed to Simon.
"Chief, you need to settle down, now. I understand and I'm going to take
care of it," Jim started to become concerned at the rasping breaths that
were coming from the younger man.
"Jim?" Simon moved closer to the bed.
"He'll be alright, sir," Jim sent a reassuring look toward his
captain. Handing the filed back to Simon, he sat down on the side of the bed.
"Chief, look at me."
Jim waited as the dark blue eyes fixated on his face. The pain that tilled those
eyes brought a sinking sensation to his gut. He hated it when his Guide was in
pain.
"Can't breathe," Blair reached out for his Sentinel's hand.
"Yes, you can. Just relax, buddy, You're too tense," Jim leaned
closer, using one hand to begin a soothing massage to the younger man's
forehead, while the other grasped his hand, "Close your eyes and
concentrate on taking slow easy breaths. I understand. And I'm going to handle
it. What I want you to do is to calm down."
Simon watched in awe as the tension in Blair flowed out and he complied with the
other man's instructions. His breathing evened out and heavy eyelids closed.
Jim continued the massage and the monologue for several more minutes. When he
was sure that Blair was truly asleep, he gently place Blair's hand under the
blanket and stood.
"Do you realize how much he trusts you?" Simon said as he gazed at the
figure on the bed.
"It's a two way street, Simon," Jim returned.
"Now do you mind telling me what the hell just happened?"
Jim nodded, reaching for the file that Simon had in his hand.
"It all clicked, Simon. When Blair saw this picture."
"What are you talking about?"
Jim opened the file and showed Simon the picture that had disturbed his Guide.
"Andrew Carthridge."
"Who is Andrew Carthridge?" he asked as he looked at the picture.
"Greg Welborne's real father. Michael Welborne was Greg's stepfather."
Horror filled Simon's face as the pieces fell into place.
"Oh my God. He is out for revenge."
"That's not all, Simon."
"What do you mean, Jim?" Simon did not like the look he saw on Jim's
face.
Motioning for Simon to follow him, he stepped out into the hall. Glancing
around, he turned toward the guard that stood by the door.
"I'm going to be gone for a while. I want you to take a look at this
picture. If you see this man anywhere near my partner's room, I want you to
shoot first and ask questions later. Do you understand?" Jim instructed as
he showed the picture to the guard.
The officer looked over at Simon and seeing the captain's nod, he looked back at
Jim. "You got it, sir."
Simon turned to follow as Jim's long strides took him down the hall toward the
elevators.
"Ellison! What's going on?" Simon caught up to him at the elevators.
"Simon! Carthridge is here," Jim said.
"Where?"
"In the hospital," Jim explained.
"How do you know that?" Simon had a look of confusion on his face.
"While we were waiting for Daryl to get out of surgery, did you notice the
janitor that was mopping in the hall?" the elevator arrived and both men
stepped in.
"Daryl!" Simon said in horror.
The Wrong Target Part 4