"This is a little something I invented on my own." Zeller held the syringe up to the light. "It is a poison, but not just any poison. It is a neurotoxin with a molecular structure so complex, that no antidote has ever been found for it." His gaze leveled at Jim again. "Until now." He held up his left hand, which now contained a second syringe, capped, filled with blue liquid.

"OK, great...you developed the poison, you developed an antidote.... What's that got to with me? " Jim glared impatiently. "What, do you need a guinea pig or something?"

Zeller shook his head, "No no, nothing like that. I have already carried out sufficient experiments to confirm that the antidote works..." His gaze fell on Ellison, as he replaced the vial in his pocket. "And that the affects of the toxin are excruciatingly painful." He was walking away from Jim now, toward his henchman, who stood in the doorway of the luxuriously decorated room. Zeller made a hand gesture at Lucas, who nodded quickly, and went out the door.

Zeller resumed his speech, turning to Jim. "You see, I intend for you to aid me and my men in a small project. A way to make up for the funds you were so kind to help me lose during our last encounter. I have a very generous buyer interested in the formula for a new chemical weapon, and you are going to help us steal it." Zeller leaned casually on the hearth, to study Jim's response.

Jim snorted at him in disgust. "Are you kidding me? Is that why you dragged me out here, to help you with a simple robbery?" He was shaking his head in disbelief.

"There is nothing simple about this! The target is so heavily guarded by sensors, that only someone with your capabilities will have the slightest chance of successfully penetrating them." Zeller stood. "So you see, I had no choice but to employ your help."

"And what makes you think I'm going to help you?" Jim sneered at him. "Do you plan to use your little invention on me?" He shook his head. "C'mon, how do you expect me to help you break into that place if I'm being debilitated by a neurotoxin?" Jim was confused; Zeller had seemed smarter before!

Zeller smiled coldly, his pale eyes glowing with evil. "I didn't say I was going to use it on *you*, detective."

"*Ungh!* Let go of me, you big...! "

Jim's head snapped toward the door at the familiar voice, followed by sounds of scuffling. Lucas came back, dragging someone into the room, and Jim's heart slammed into his feet as he saw Blair, struggling helplessly in the big man's grasp. Sandburg's face was bruised, his left eye swollen completely shut. His good eye widened as he looked up and saw Jim, but he didn't say a word.

Jim started to take a step toward his partner, but he was stopped by a heavy hand on his shoulder and the sound of a gun being cocked next to his ear. He watched as Zeller approached Blair, smiling. Blair eyed The Ice Man with loathing.

"You see, detective," Zeller said, moving to stand beside Sandburg. "I have come to realize that your sense of self preservation comes second to your concern for others." He lifted the syringe, and Blair tensed, pulling away slightly. Zeller smiled down at him before continuing. "I think it will work to my advantage in this case."

Violently, Zeller seized Sandburg's right arm, and Blair began to struggle, looking anxiously at Jim.

"NO!" Jim shouted, lunging. He tried to run at Zeller, but the two thugs behind him quickly stepped forward. They grabbed his arms and held him back as he strained against them.

Blair managed to jerk his arm out of The Ice Man's grip, and lashed out at him. Zeller responded by viciously backhanding the young man across the face, stunning him.

Jim flinched, and tried again to lurch forward. The blond goon behind him quickly pressed his gun to Jim's temple, and Ellison's struggles reluctantly ceased.

Zeller gave Lucas a look, and the big man slowly nodded. He hooked his massive left arm around Blair's neck, holding him tight, and coiled his right arm around Blair's body, pinning his arms to his sides. Blair's struggles resumed as The Ice Man tested the needle, and then grabbed his right arm and pulled it out straight.

Jim could only watch in helpless horror, feeling the muzzle of the gun against his head.

Zeller ripped Blair's shirt sleeve off and plunged the syringe into his arm, as Lucas held him fast. The Ice Man completed the injection and stepped back. He motioned to Lucas, who let go and allowed Blair to drop to the floor, clutching his arm.

"Take him downstairs," Zeller ordered.

Lucas gazed down at Blair, with a strangely sad expression on his misshapen face, before doing as his boss said.

"Now," Zeller began, walking back to Jim. "Your friend has ten hours left to live, but my antidote will only work if he receives it within the next eight hours." Zeller glanced at his watch.

"By my watch, that gives you until roughly 5AM tomorrow morning to finish your assignment." Zeller looked at Jim with a smug grin.

Jim glowered at him, seething with hatred. "I'm gonna tear your lungs out, you son of a bitch!" he snarled, straining against the arms that held him. Zeller just smiled.

"Yes, well...all in good time." He stood toe to toe with Ellison, and spoke right in his face. "Although first I suggest that you do exactly as I say...if you want the antidote."

* * * * * * *

"OK, let's go over this one last time," Icart began, looking around the large table at his teammates, which now included one Detective James Ellison, all looking at the large floor plan spread out before them.

"The stash is in a safe on the third floor. To get there, we need to disable the alarm systems. Most of them won't be much of a problem." Icart winked at Gerad, who mocked buffing and blowing on his fingernails, showing how easy he anticipated his job to be.

Icart grinned, and continued. "The real problem will be on the third floor itself. This area of the building has some kick-ass sensors." He glared at Skiff, who was pretending to fall asleep, before continuing.

"Which I REALIZE we've all seen before. Once one of them is tripped, the entire area is automatically sealed off, and anesthetic gas is pumped through the ventilation system. The catch is...the sensors are hidden. There's no way for us to tell where the main power sources are, or even where the infrared beams originate from." Icart chucked a pen at Skiff's head, then turned and fixed Ellison with a distasteful gaze.

"That's where you come in, Jimmy-boy."

Ellison glared at the German punk with loathing. "Go on." He was cooperating; he had no choice, if Blair was going to come of this alive.

He shuddered at the memory of his partner dropping to the floor, feebly holding his arm. Jim had never felt so utterly helpless, as he had watched Zeller inject Blair with the poison. Then Zeller had motioned to Lucas again, who bent over and hauled Jim's barely conscious partner off the floor, draped him limply over his shoulder, and carried him away. Ellison couldn't help but wonder if it was the last time he'd see his friend alive.

"Are you listening to this, Ellison?" Zeller was standing over him now, shaking his shoulder roughly, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Pay attention...your friend's life depends upon it!" The Ice Man sneered down at Jim, as the others at the table snickered.

Icart waited patiently for things to quiet down, and then continued explaining the plan, and how each person would fulfill their part. Skiff, the blond guy, was in charge of getting the team inside the building without being seen. Gerad, the oily guy from the hotel, would disable the sensors along the way from their entry point to the third floor. Then it was Jim's turn. His job was to use his Sentinel sight and hearing to locate the hidden sensors and their sources, so they could be disabled as well.

Once past the sensors, Icart would use his expertise in explosives to blow the vault. After that they would have to move fast; the explosion would certainly catch unwanted attention. They would grab the goods and get the hell out of there.

Jim couldn't help but be impressed by the plan. No wonder Zeller had been able to escape from prison, with these guys working for him!

"Does anyone have any questions?" Zeller asked, looking around the table. No one responded. Zeller addressed Jim. "Is everything clear for you, Detective?"

"Crystal," Jim replied tonelessly, glaring up at The Ice Man.

Icart grinned, then looked around at his team again. "Excellent. Then let's get going!" The group bustled to their feet, and shuffled quickly around the room, gathering their gear. Icart was still talking. "Skiff, you take point in the Caddy. Gerad, you will drive the van. Let's move!"

"No," Jim said firmly.

Everyone froze to stare at Ellison, then turned en masse to watch their boss' reaction.

Zeller stalked forward. "Detective?" he asked softly.

Jim never broke eye contact with The Ice Man. "How do I know you weren't lying about the ten hours? " Jim glanced at his watch before adding, "It's been four hours. Sandburg could be dead already, knowing you." Jim snorted and shook his head, before adding, "And what proof do I have that you'll provide the antidote, after I've taken part in this little escapade?" He stared into Zeller's eyes.

"I want to see my partner."

Zeller looked at Jim for a moment, then nodded. "All right Detective. I am a reasonable man." He turned, motioning for Jim to follow, as he continued. "As well as an honorable one, I assure you. If you do as you're told, then you have my word that your partner will be given the antidote, as promised."

* * * * * * *

Lucas scrambled to attention as he heard approaching footsteps. Zeller came down the stone steps, holding a gun on Detective Ellison. "How's our guest, Lucas?" Zeller asked, as he and Jim walked up to the door of the cell-like room Lucas was guarding.

"Uh...fine boss. He's not screaming anymore.... " Lucas looked nervously at the floor when Jim glared at him in rage.

"Well, that's to be expected," Zeller said, as he unbolted the door, and pulled it open. "One's vocal chords can only stand so much." He flipped a switch on the wall, stepped aside and motioned for the detective to enter as a single electric bulb buzzed to life from the ceiling of the cell.

Jim carefully stepped into the cell. It was cold, dark, and damp, and he shivered a little. Then the cot in one corner caught his eye, and he quickly crossed, and addressed the crumpled figure curled up there, in obvious pain. "Chief?...Chief can you hear me?"

Blair was soaked with sweat, and shivering violently. Jim sat on the edge of the cot and sat his friend up, cradling him against his chest. Jim's hearing picked up his partner's heartbeat, hammering like a freight train under the effects of The Ice Man's toxin. *Zeller is going to pay.* he thought, angrily. "Sandburg? You still with me?"

Sandburg moaned, and another tremor wracked his small body. Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes to gaze up at his partner. The hoarse, raspy voice was barely audible. "J... Jim.... Cold...s-s-so...cold!" Exhausted, Blair closed his eyes again, and gasped as another wave of pain swept through him. "Oh God, Jim....it hurts...*please*...."

Jim tried to comfort him, pulling a grungy blanket around him as Sandburg writhed in pain. "It's gonna be OK, Chief.... Everything's going to be fine." He turned to glare at Zeller, who stood in the doorway. "I want him moved," he said simply.

Zeller snorted. "Really? You aren't in much of a position to make demands Detective." Klaus grinned at Jim, who stared icily at him.

"Come on, Zeller, he'll freeze in here. Your thug can guard him just as easily in one of the bedrooms. It's not like Blair's in any condition to overpower him!" Jim threw a sideways glance in Lucas' direction, as Sandburg whimpered in agony.

Zeller looked from Blair to Lucas, apparently thinking it over. After a moment he turned back to Jim and shrugged. "Oh, very well. I suppose you're right. After all, we can't have the little twerp dying before you've completed your mission." He turned to Lucas, and pointed in Sandburg's direction. "Pick him up. We'll put him in your room."

"No, I'll do it," Jim said, holding a hand up as Lucas came forward. "I don't trust your men, Zeller." Jim gave Lucas a hard look, and felt a sneaking glimmer of satisfaction as the giant's face fell.

"As you wish, detective." Zeller sighed impatiently.

Jim wrapped Blair in the filthy, threadbare blanket and then gently gathered him up as he whispered, "Can you hold on to me, Chief?" A moment later, Blair's arms came up blindly to wrap around his partner's neck, and Jim lifted him into his arms.

"Lucas, show the detective up to your room." Zeller stepped back as Jim came out of the cell, carrying his partner.

"OK boss," Lucas drawled. He turned nervously to Ellison. "Um...it's upstairs. Follow me." Lucas started up the stairs, automatically ducking to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling.

As Jim began to follow, he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked beside his ear. He turned to see Zeller's weapon pointed at his head, The Ice Man's eyes fixed on him unblinkingly.

"I know you are too smart to try anything foolish, Detective." When Jim nodded, Zeller gestured for him to continue up the stairs, and then followed him. "After all," he continued. "You know that your partner's survival relies on your complete cooperation."

"Wha...what did he say?" Jim looked down in surprise at Blair's question. He'd thought the young anthropologist was unconscious. Blair gazed up at Jim through pain-filled eyes. "What's...going..on, Jim?" Sandburg's face paled as another seizure hit him. He gritted his teeth, trying not to cry out at the terrible pain.

Jim answered, reluctantly. "I've...made a deal...with Klaus Zeller," he said. Blair gave him a questioning glance. Jim briefly explained as the group made the journey to Lucas' room.

* * * * * * *

Lucas' room was small compared to the few other rooms Jim had seen, excepting the cell. It was very drab and simple, much like its occupant, Jim thought, glancing again at the giant. Jim crossed the room to the big bed, and carefully laid Blair down there. Blair was speaking to him, as Jim pulled the heavy covers up over his friend's shivering body.

"Jim...I don't want you to...you can't...." He broke off for a moment as another pain struck him. He grimaced, breathing hard through his nose as the attack passed, before continuing.

"Don't do it Jim....Don't help these assholes!" Blair closed his eyes, twisting his fingers in the fabric of Jim's shirt.

Jim sighed sadly, as he sat on the edge of the bed. He untwined Blair's fingers from his shirt, and leaned forward to rest his hand on his partner's shoulder.

"I have to Chief...you know that." He cut Blair off as the young man shook his head and began to object. "Please, Blair. Don't make this any harder for me."

Sandburg fell silent then, looking up at Jim in despair.

"I'm sorry," Blair whispered, "I shouldn't have let Lucas get the drop on me in the hotel room." He sighed, then chuckled bitterly. "So much for self-defense, eh?" Blair closed his eyes.

"No...now don't start with that again," Jim began "I didn't do much better..." The sound of a throat being cleared caught his attention. Jim turned to see Zeller and Lucas watching him from the doorway. Zeller glared at the detective, and tapped his watch impatiently.

Jim sighed. "All right, I'm coming. Believe me, I understand better than anyone that time is limited." Jim glanced at his watch. 1:15 AM. Less than four hours remained until.... He looked down again at Blair's pained face gazing back up at him from the pillow.

Jim gave his friend's shoulder a final pat, then leaned down until their foreheads were almost touching and whispered, "We're going to get out of this, Chief. You stay strong for me, understand?"

Blair nodded, feebly. Jim continued. "Good. Because I'm not ready to give you up just yet." Jim forced a small smile, which Blair tried to return, but failed, shuddering with pain.

"Can we please get started now?" Zeller asked petulantly, as Jim got to his feet. "Remember detective, the sooner you complete this mission, the sooner your friend's suffering will end!" Again Zeller pulled the antidote syringe out of his pocket and displayed it.

Jim briefly considered trying to overpower The Ice Man to get the antidote away from him, but knew it was no use. Zeller still had his gun pointed at him, plus Lucas was close enough to grab Jim if he tried anything.

Ellison turned to Lucas, and all but snarled into his face, "If anything happens to him before I get back..." Jim pointed his finger at Lucas, letting the threat hang in the air between them. He heard the thug's heartbeat speed up, as a look of fear crossed his features.

Jim cast a final glance at his friend, then followed Zeller out of the small room and back down the stairs to find the other members of the team waiting for him.

"So are we going, or what?" asked Icart, looking at Zeller.

"Yes." The Ice Man called Gerad over. "You're in charge, Gerad. You know what to do."

Gerad nodded, as Zeller turned to the rest of the group. "You all know your jobs. I want this operation to go smoothly, no mistakes!" He turned to Jim, and growled softly, "And you, detective.... If I hear any reports of you not cooperating fully, Mr. Sandburg will have no need for the antidote!"

* * * * * * *

Jim relaxed, allowing himself to be led along a corridor of some sort. He could tell it was pitch dark, even with the blindfold over his eyes. The strong smell of dirt led him to believe that they were underground. He stumbled once, and Gerad yanked him by the wrist, keeping him on his feet. Behind him he could hear Skiff and Icart following. Zeller and Lucas were staying behind with Blair.

Suddenly, a hand on Jim's chest stopped him. He paused, motionless, listening. *What IS that?* he wondered, as he heard a click, and the sound of machinery. It was very low and soft, but it was definitely the sound of some sort of hydraulic mechanism in motion.

He strained his ears, listening. There was a sound like air rushing in to fill a space of some sort, and Jim felt the temperature around him change slightly. Then there was a soft thump, and the hydraulics sound ceased.

Jim felt Gerad's bony fingers around his wrist again, pulling him forward. "Step up, detective," came the thug's voice. Jim obeyed, and felt a carpeted step under his boot.

*Carpet?* He didn't remember seeing any carpeted steps in the hideout, what little he'd seen of it. The only steps he'd seen were the stone ones that led down to Zeller's "dungeon." Of course, he reasoned, he'd been unconscious when they'd brought him in.

He counted ten steps up, then Gerad stopped him again. Jim heard the sounds of the other team members coming up the stairs, moving past him. Then Gerad tugged him forward, and Jim stumbled as his foot dropped down unexpectedly. Gerad quickly seized him by the shoulders and held him up.

"Whoa! Sorry about that, my fault." Gerad sounded genuinely sorry, as Jim heard the others laughing from somewhere ahead and below him. When he got his footing back, he followed Gerad's orders to step down. He did so counting six steps before his boot thumped onto the wooden floor. Then he felt and heard a rumbling, along with the bizarre hydraulics noises again.

Jim was just trying to figure out what kind of steps went up, and then immediately down, when he was seized by a horrible sneezing fit. It was never-ending, one wrenching sneeze after the other.

"Dust!" he gasped, at Gerad's inquiry. "Too much dust!" He sneezed a few more times, much to Skiff's amusement.

"Here, here get him outside!" Skiff laughed, as Jim's sinuses continued to spasm.

Hands on his arms guided him forward, across the wooden floor. After a moment, Jim felt the air change, and knew they were outside. He took a few deep breaths, as his sneezing fit slowly died down. Soon he smelled gasoline, and a moment later he heard the door of a van sliding open. He obediently climbed in, and then allowed Gerad to direct him into a seat. He heard others climbing in with him, then the slam of the van door closing.

"All set?" Gerad called. Jim heard voices answer, and then the van was started with a roar, and began to back up. Jim shifted, casually reaching a hand up towards the blindfold.

"Oh, no you don't!" Icart said, grabbing Jim's wrist. "You just sit tight, I'll let you know when you can see!"

Jim lowered his hand, but opened his senses to full awareness, to try and remember the path the van was about to take. He was beginning to form a plan, but in order for it to work, he had to be able to find his way back to the hideout alone. He strained his ears as the van started forward, but he couldn't hear anything that would help him.

*Damn!* he thought. Angrily, he thrust his hands into his pockets, and felt the bottle of antacids, he'd purchased earlier. An idea quickly formed. It was a long shot, but Jim didn't have anything else to go with! Quickly, he faked another sneezing fit, eliciting a question from Gerad.

"What now, detective?" he asked, irritated.

"Sorry! *ACHOO!* There must still be some dust on my clothes *ACHOO!*" Jim continued to fake the sneezes. "Would you mind *ACHOO!* if we open the window a little, just to clear the air?" There was a pause, and then Jim felt Icart leaning across him, and felt a breeze as the window was cranked open.

"Thanks, man. *ACHOO!* Sorry to be so much trouble," Jim muttered, leaning close to the window.

"No problem, Jimmy-Boy," Icart muttered. "Boy, for a tough guy, you sure have wimpy sinuses!" Jim heard Icart lean back in the seat, and begin chatting with Gerad.

Carefully, Jim reached into his pocket and uncapped the antacids, dumping them out in his pocket. Then he slipped a handful of them into his hand. Casually, he leaned his elbow and arm out the window, and paused to see if his actions had been noticed by the others. They seemed to be engaged in conversation, paying no attention to Jim.

Jim began to count the seconds off to himself. He could tell about how fast the van was traveling, and knew how far his Sentinel sight allowed him to see. He began dropping the antacids, one at a time, trying to space them just far enough apart to make a trail.

Every time he felt the van make a turn, he dropped an extra tablet. Jim was counting on being able to follow them back to Zeller's hideout after the detective had carried out the rest of his plan. Ellison was determined; there was no way that he was going to help Zeller commit this crime, but he wasn't willing to sacrifice Blair, either.

*And I won't have to, if this works!* Jim thought, as he continued to count and drop the tablets. The van sped on, toward an unknown destination.

* * * * * * *

Blair was dying, he was sure of it. Nobody could feel this bad, and expect to live to tell about it! It was impossible for him to realistically describe the effect of Zeller's toxin on his body, because he'd never felt anything even remotely like it. But if he had to try, he could best describe it as fire flowing through his body, blistering his insides, flaying his skin off from the inside out. It came and went, but mostly came.

Blair had to fight hard to keep from screaming as the waves of pain surged through him. Sometimes it was too much, and he lost the fight. His own screams had become a familiar sound to his ears in the past five hours, and his throat was paying the price.

There was a sudden, welcome lull in the agony, and Blair managed to open his eyes to look around. He was surprised to find himself in a bedroom, and not that dark cell. Then he remembered Jim talking to him, comforting him. He remembered being scooped up in his friend's arms, and carried like a child. He closed his eyes in misery as he recalled Jim explaining to him the "deal" he'd made with that...that murderer!

*Oh, Jim. What have I gotten us into this time?*

"What? Um...did you say something to me?" a voice asked from across the room.

Blair sat up a little, trying to focus on the huge figure sitting in the chair by the door. He hadn't realized his last comment was out loud, and was surprised to get a response. "Who's there?" Blair asked, nervously. "Zeller?"

The figure stood, speaking, "Um...no. It's me, Lucas." He came closer and studied the bruised left side of the kid's face, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry I hurt you in the hotel room. It was an accident; you made me lose my balance."

Blair was still trying to focus as the giant figure came closer. "Lucas? Oh yeah, you're the big fellow, right?" *Big and ugly* he thought. "Are you serious? *I* threw you off balance?" Blair was amazed to learn that his self-defense techniques hadn't been totally useless after all.

Lucas nodded. "Yeah, you sure did. I almost fell over, but then we hit the wall and...." he broke off as Blair began to cough.

"You all right?" the giant asked, concerned. "Would you like something to drink?" He stood beside the bed as Blair's coughing fit died down.

Blair swallowed hard, feeling how dry his throat was for the first time. "Yeah, actually I am thirsty. Got any herbal tea?" he chuckled.

"Tea? Um... I don't think so." There was a long pause, then "Would water be OK?" Lucas was the picture of insecurity, standing with his eyes lowered, fiddling with his hands.

Blair finally focused on the big face, shuddering again at the deformities. "Thanks, Lucas," he said. "Some water would be great, right about now." He managed to smile a little at the giant.

Surprisingly, Lucas actually smiled back at him. At least he thought it was supposed to be a smile. It was hard to tell with that face.

"OK. sure," Lucas said, as he turned and headed out the door. "I'll be right back!" he called over his shoulder.

Blair waited until the heavy footsteps faded. Then with difficulty, and in great pain, he struggled out of the bed. Shakily, he stood up, one arm wrapped around his aching body, the other supporting him as he made his way along the wall to the door. He stood in the doorway and looked both ways, listening for any approaching footsteps. Then he carefully headed down the hallway, leaning hard on the wall for support.