Note From The Author: For months this story begged to be written. I kept telling it to shut up and wait its turn. So what happened when I finally got around to writing it? It fought me every step of the way. So who won the battle? Final score was Story:1/Star:0 . However, I have demanded a rematch, and next time I'm bringing a whip and a chair. The best part about Desperado being finished is that I can finally start on the story I've been itching to get my hands on...The direct sequel to "Web Of Deception". Oh BTW, it's okay to hate this story. Lord knows there were days when I certainly did. =)

Special Thanks: I have always had the utmost respect for those individuals who make us writers look good. I'm talking about the beta readers. So I would very much like to thank my new beta patl. May we have a long and fruitful relationship..... Star

Rating and Warnings: (PG13) For violence, bad language and death of secondary characters.

It was story time at the Rainier University Day Care Center. An event eagerly anticipated by the nearly two dozen children of varying ages enrolled there. Too cold and damp to play outside, the children were gathered around the young man seated cross legged on the carpeted floor. He was a relatively new volunteer at the center but had quickly become a favorite among the children.

A natural born teacher, he never became exasperated at the multitude of questions asked, but instead took quiet joy in enlightening their inquisitive young minds. Whether he was teaching them a new game or joining them at play, he was never too busy to listen, offer encouragement or a comforting hug.

The children listened, totally enthralled by the young man's hypnotic voice and masterful story telling. So intriguing were his tales that the rest of the volunteer staff found themselves listening with as much eagerness as the young charges they were tending.

James Ellison leaned in the doorway quietly listening. He enjoyed watching the ease with which his partner related to the children. True, Sandburg wasn't that far removed from childhood himself. Oh maybe not by actual years, but by the childlike wonder and enthusiasm he still possessed. It continually amazed him, that despite all the horrors Blair had been exposed to because of his association with him and the Cascade PD, nothing had dampened the natural childlike effervescence of Sandburg's nature.

Ellison studied his partner closely, taking in his radiant smile and robust appearance. It had been a long time since he had seen Blair this happy and healthy. Still, he couldn't help but worry and wonder just when the next crisis would occur. And if past experiences were any indication, occur it would. The sound of clapping roused Ellison from his quiet contemplations.

Blair smiled in acknowledgement of the applause, then feeling a tug on the front of his shirt, glanced down at the child sitting in his lap. Although Blair was fond of all the children at the center, Miguel had quickly wormed his way into a special place within the anthropologist's heart.

"Tell us another one Blair," Miguel begged, his large brown eyes accentuating his plea. The other children quickly took up the chant. Jim saw his partner weakening beneath the onslaught and decided it was time to come to his rescue. Besides Simon was expecting them at the station.

As if sensing his presence, Sandburg looked up just as Jim stepped into the room. Upon seeing him, Blair's brow furrowed and he glanced at the wall clock. Noting the time, he threw his partner a sheepish grin and silently wondered where the time had gone. Blair held up a hand, effectively silencing the minions. "Sorry guys, but my ride is here. I've gotta go."

Immediately, cries of disappointment filled the room as Blair flowed gracefully to his feet, taking Miguel with him. "I'll tell you another one next time, I promise," he assured them with a delighted chuckle.

Miguel snaked his tiny arms around Sandburg's neck, hugging him tightly. Blair returned the hug before setting the child down. "I'll see you soon buddy," he told the child, affectionately ruffling the head full of dark brown hair. It took him another five minutes to cross the short expanse of the room as the rest of the children demanded equal attention.

It was with a chuckle that Ellison finally managed to pull Sandburg out of the room. "You've got yourself quite a fan club there Chief," he commented as the two men headed towards Ellison's truck.

"Yeah," Blair grinned. "Too bad they're all under the age of six."

Jim pursed his lips in thought. "I don't know about that Chief. From where I was standing it was pretty obvious that some of the center's staff are as equally infatuated."

Blair glanced away and Ellison could sense a sudden tautness in his young friend's lithe frame. Damn! He had forgotten about Sandburg's reticence ever since his encounter with first Andrea Alessi, and then Katherine Raines, her mother.

It hadn't always been that way. Before the advent of those two psychos into his life, Blair had been very outgoing with those of the opposite sex. Nor had he ever wanted for company from a myriad of interested women. For the most part, Blair had managed to overcome the psychological scars resulting from those two harrowing incidences. But since then, he still had a tendency to shy away from those of the female gender. Especially those he didn't know.

"Chief, I'm..."

"Just drop it Jim," Blair replied shortly. "I don't want to talk about it."

Ellison's jaw clenched involuntarily. Several times he had attempted to broach this subject with Sandburg, only to be rebuffed at every turn. Obviously Blair still wasn't ready to discuss the matter, so he'd let it go for now. But he also knew and silently vowed, that at some point, they were going to discuss it.

Stepping off the elevator, the two men exchanged questioning glances at the unusual flurry of activity going on in the major crimes division of the Cascade PD. Ellison reached out, snagging Brown as he hurried by. "What's going on H?"

"Word just came down, Santiago's escaped."

"WHAT! HOW?" Ellison asked, incredulous.

Blair detected the unvoiced anger beneath the words and found himself wondering who Santiago was and why Jim had reacted so vehemently to his escape.

"Henry, you coming or what?" Rafe hollered with undisguised impatience from the other end of the corridor.

Brown shrugged. "Sorry Jim, I've gotta go. Simon will have to fill you in."

"Okay H, thanks." Jim turned back to his partner. "Come on, let's go see Simon."

Ellison rapped once, barely waiting for the acknowledgement to enter, before storming into Simon's office, with Sandburg hot on his heels.

"Now Jim," Simon began upon seeing the anger clenched jaw of his best detective. But it was clear that Ellison wasn't in the mood for platitudes.

"HOW THE HELL DID SANTIAGO ESCAPE?" Jim bellowed.

Quietly shutting the door behind him, Blair leaned back against the glass and listened. Certain that his curiosity would soon meet with fruition.

Banks leaned back in his chair and rubbed at the tension building between his eyes. "Due to overcrowding they were transferring him to a facility in Portland. Somehow they got his paperwork mixed up with another prisoner who was being released and the rest, as they say, is history."

"You're kidding, right?" Blair questioned in disbelief.

"I don't fucking believe it," Ellison raged. "Of all the asinine..." Suddenly he broke off, turning away. Desperately he tried to regain some semblance of control on his anger. After all, it wasn't Simon's fault Santiago had escaped.

"Look Jim, I know how you feel," Simon told him. "I don't think there's anyone in this department that wouldn't like to see the bastard fry. But the fact remains that he did escape and all the ranting in the world isn't going to help."

"Just who is this Santiago anyway?" Blair asked.

Since Ellison was still staring out the window, his face etched with anger, it fell on Simon to explain. "About four, maybe five years ago Santiago and his gang, the Desperado's, started a war with a rival gang." Banks paused before continuing. It was obvious that the memory was a painful one. "Unfortunately a playground full of kids got caught in the middle."

"Oh my God!" Blair uttered in disbelief.

"Before it was over, five of the children were injured and two of the supervising adults, along with eight of the kids were dead. Not to mention the heavy casualties among the gang members."

Blair had turned considerably paler. His features reflecting the horrific images Simon's words had conjured up in his mind. "Wait, I remember hearing something about that. Wasn't his girlfriend responsible for turning him in?"

"Maria Lopez," Ellison supplied, turning away from the window. "It took a lot of courage to do what she did." The admiration in his voice was unmistakable.

"Yeah," Blair replied thoughtfully. "In such a closed society she was bound to be ostracized for her actions."

"Not to mention putting her life in danger," Banks added. "Street gang mentality doesn't allow for acts of betrayal."

"So, does anyone know what happened to her?" Sandburg asked, curious.

Ellison and Banks exchanged looks.

"What?" Blair asked, fearing the answer.

It was Simon who responded. "We don't really know Blair. Not long after the trial, she just dropped out of sight."

"You don't think that they..." Sandburg couldn't continue, the possibility too abhorrent to voice aloud.

Ellison shrugged. "Anything's possible Chief. Maybe she just left town," he suggested, knowing his kind hearted friend would continue to worry about the plight of one previously unknown Maria Lopez. Unfortunately Sandburg didn't looked convinced.

Still, that had happened years ago and right now there were more important matters that required their attention. Namely the apprehension of Thomas Santiago. He turned to Simon. "So what have we got?"

Banks sighed. "Quite frankly Jim, not a hell of a lot." He picked up the manila file folder from his desk and handed it to Ellison before continuing. "Not long after his escape we received a report of a car jacking. The owner of the vehicle was killed, but eyewitnesses report seeing a Latino matching Santiago's description."

"Oh man," Blair muttered. "Any idea where he's headed?"

Ellison looked up from his perusal of the file. "My guess would be here."

Sandburg's eyebrows rose in surprise. "What! Why?"

"Because," Simon replied, "he'll want to reestablish ties with his old gang."

"But aren't they all in jail?" Blair questioned, obviously confused.

"It's not that simple Chief," Jim explained. "Some are out on parole and others at the time were just too young to prosecute."

"And some," added Banks with a grimace, "we didn't have enough evidence on to convict." His gaze settled on Sandburg, silently willing him to understand the legal ramifications of society's so-called system of justice.

Not wanting to go there, Blair instead focused on what he knew about the inner workings of gang related mentality. "Okay," he replied contemplatively, "I guess it makes sense. To him the gang represents family and the twenty some odd blocks that incorporate the Latino community, his territory." His glance flickered back and forth between the two older men. "Where does that leave us?"

"I've already assigned surveillance teams to known gang members," Simon began.

"What about their headquarters?" Ellison interjected.

"Since the playground incident, they've taken to rotating the location of their headquarters. I've got Rafe and Brown trying to pin down the current address. As soon as we have that information we'll set up a stake-out. Sooner or later Santiago is bound to show up."

"So what do you want us to do?" Sandburg inquired.

A knock on the door interrupted Simon's reply. Joel Taggert entered a moment later. The expression on his face indicated that the news wasn't good. "Santiago just knocked over a gun shop in Fall City," he informed them. "He killed the owner, cleaned out the cash drawer and took enough guns to start a war."

The men exchanged worried glances. That confirmed it. Santiago was headed for Cascade.

Simon rose from behind his desk. "Jim, I want you and Sandburg to follow up on that." He leaned forward, placing clenched hands on his desk top. "I want that bastard caught, gentlemen. Preferably before any more lives are lost."

On that point they all agreed, and with a silent nod Ellison led Sandburg out of the room.

It had been a long, frustrating day. Their trip to Fall City had produced little evidence other than the surveillance video, which had clearly identified Santiago. Upon reviewing the tape, Blair had blanched noticeably as Santiago ruthlessly murdered the shop owner. The knowledge that he was survived by a wife and two little girls, made his tragic death all the more heinous.

Bone weary, the two men let themselves into the loft. Depositing the takeout onto the counter Blair shrugged out of his jacket. Wincing slightly at the movement, he reached around to rub at the small of his back.

"You all right Chief?" Jim asked, having noticed Sandburg's discomfort.

"Yeah, fine," Blair replied, handing Ellison his jacket to hang up. "I guess I just played horsy one too many times at the center," he admitted, much to his chagrin.

Jim smiled at the mental image of Sandburg on all fours, with a toddler astride his back, gripping at his curly locks and saying, "Giddy up."

"Well, don't let them work you too hard buddy or you're liable to find yourself flat on your back again."

Blair waved the light admonishment aside. "I'm fine Jim. Besides, the kids enjoy it."

With a slight censuring shake of his head, Ellison pulled out some plates and began dishing out the food. Sandburg grabbed a couple bottles of beer out of the refrigerator and the two men sat down to eat.

After ten minutes of watching Sandburg spend more time pushing his food around on his plate instead of eating it, Jim sat down his fork. "Something bothering you?" he asked with a concerned gaze.

Blair pushed his plate away, giving up on any pretense of eating. "It's this Santiago thing," he admitted. "I mean, how could anyone be so heartless as to let a playground full of kids get caught in the middle of a gang war? And then there's the two men he killed today." With underlying anger and confusion, Blair turned questioning blue eyes to his partner, desperately seeking answers.

Ellison glanced away from the inquisitive gaze. Picking up his bottle of beer, Jim studied it's amber contents while trying to formulate a response. But the truth of the matter was, that there was no rational explanation for Santiago's abhorrent actions. Apologetically, he shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you Chief," he finally admitted.

With an understanding nod Blair rose, carried his untouched food into the kitchen and began scraping it into the garbage can. Inserting the plug, he sat his plate in the sink and turned on the faucet. He had just squirted in some dish soap when the phone rang. Setting down the bottle, he quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and answered it on the second ring. "Hello."

"Blair, this is Theresa Sanchez," came a softly accented voice from the other end of the line.

Unaware, Blair's face lit up with delight. However, Ellison noticed and smiled. Maybe there was some hope after all.

"Theresa," he acknowledged, "what's up?"

"I just called to tell you that I won't be able to make our tutoring session tomorrow."

"Oh," Blair replied, his voice tinged with disappointment. "There's not a problem, is there?"

"It's Miguel. He has a sore throat and a slight fever."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Blair said, his brow furrowing with concern.

"It's probably nothing, but I want to get him checked out at the clinic just to be safe."

Sandburg grimaced. Having had personal experience with those types of clinics, he knew that she would probably be kept waiting for hours just to see a doctor. "I understand," he told her. "Give me a call when you know more and we'll see about rescheduling the session. Besides, I want to know what the doctor has to say about Miguel."

"You're so sweet to be concerned Blair," came the reply.

Sandburg shrugged. "What can I say, I like the little guy."

"Thank you so much for everything. I promise I'll call you as soon as I know anything definite."

"Great," he replied. "I'll talk to you then. Oh, and give Miguel a hug for me."

"Will do," she assured him. "Bye."

"Bye," Blair responded. Hanging up the phone, he stood staring off into space.

"So you kind of like this Theresa, huh Chief?" Jim asked, rousing Sandburg from his daydreaming.

"Hmmm?" Blair replied, still somewhat distracted.

"I said," Ellison repeated, "you must like this Teresa."

Blair gave him a disdainful glare. "Come on man, I'm merely tutoring her in a couple of classes is all."

Jim grinned like the proverbial Cheshire Cat. "I don't know Chief, I think there's more to it."

"Whatever gave you an idea like that?" Blair asked, looking decidedly put out.

"That," Ellison replied smugly and pointed to the now over flowing sink.

Sandburg's eyes went wide with shock. "SHIT!" he exclaimed, rushing to the sink. In his haste, Blair's stocking feet slipped and down he went amongst the small flood of water and soap suds.

Jim was up out of his chair and across the room in a flash. Quickly he turned off the water and looked with concern at his downed roommate. "You okay?"

Expelling a puff of air, Blair dislodged the cluster of bubbles clinging to his cheek. "Fine. I'm just fine," he groused.

Assured that his friend was all right, Jim couldn't help it. The picture of Sandburg sitting there surrounded in bubbles was just too hilarious. Before he could stop it, a snicker of amusement escaped.

Blair's eyes narrowed as he glared up at Ellison. "You could have turned off the water," he accused.

"What," Jim replied in all innocence, "and miss the opportunity to see you mop up the floor." He contemplatively eyed the anthropologist's long dark curls. "Speaking of mops..." his voice trailed off on a mischievous note and he advanced on the younger man.

Sandburg pointed a finger at the detective. "Don't even think about it man," he warned.

Ellison drew closer.

Sandburg's strangled cry of "JIM!" was squelched as Ellison pounced and the suds went flying.

Twenty minutes later, amidst all the horsing around, the two men finally succeeded in getting the kitchen and themselves cleaned up.

Jim filled the coffee mugs and carrying them into the living room, handed one to Blair before settling himself on the couch.

Sandburg took a sip and sighed contentedly. "Thanks," he told the older man. He paused, his blue eyes searching out those of his closest friend. "For everything."

Ellison shrugged it off. "So," he began nonchalantly, "you going to tell me about Theresa?"

"There's really nothing to tell," Blair replied fleetingly. "I'm tutoring her in a couple of classes."

"Come on Chief," Jim said with disbelief. "I know for a fact that you turned down several tutoring request from women, so why did you agree to help Theresa?"

Blair looked up from his intense scrutiny of his coffee mug and glared, what he hoped was menacingly, at Ellison. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

Jim smelt capitulation in the air and smiled. "Nope."

With a put upon sigh, Blair set down his coffee cup and sank back into the cushions of the couch. In a familiar gesture of nervousness, he tucked several strands of hair behind his right ear. "Okay, I know I've been a little anxious around women lately..."

"A little Chief?" Ellison interjected. "You damn near hyperventilate."

"You are so not helping here Jim," Blair said with an annoyed scowl.

"Sorry," Ellison replied contritely. "I just worry about you sometimes."

Sandburg felt himself relax. "Let's face it big guy," Blair responded with an amused snort, "your Blessed Protector mode is usually set on overdrive. That's okay though," he quickly added at Ellison's look of chagrin. "I kind of like knowing you're watching out for me."

"So, what's so different about Theresa?" Jim prompted, not about to let his guide sidetrack the conversation.

"I'm really not sure I can explain it," Blair replied evasively.

"Try," Ellison insisted.

"Well you should see her, Jim..."

Ellison smiled. There was an underlying excitement in Sandburg's tone, something he hadn't heard in a long time. Teasingly, he rolled his eyes.

"No, it's not like that," Blair insisted. "She's, I guess what you would call, petite. And there's this almost," he gestured expressively with his hands, "fragile air about her." He smiled with remembrance. "You should have seen her when we first met. She was so timid. She's like that with all strangers."

Ah, Jim thought, that explains it. Notonly did Theresa not appear threatening to Sandburg, but she also broughtout his protective streak. "In other words," he said to the younger man, "you feel safe with her."

Blair gaped with surprise as the truth of Jim's words sunk in. Slowly the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "Yeah," he admitted, "I guess I do." The smile grew wider. "Then there's Miguel. That's her son," Sandburg clarified for Jim's benefit. "He's a great kid."

Ellison grew quiet as he selfishly contemplated the advent of Theresa and Miguel into Blair's life, and the possible ramifications it might have on their friendship/partnership. Sandburg had grown silent and Jim looked up to find his roommate eying him questioningly.

"You all right?" Blair asked, concerned.

God, I'm a selfish bastard, Ellison silently mused. Aloud, he replied. "Yeah, fine. Just tired." He rose from the couch. "I have a feeling tomorrow's going to be a long day. I think I'll turn in."

Blair frowned in confusion. "Okay man," he replied hesitantly, "I'll see you in the morning."

With a short nod of acknowledgement in Sandburg's general direction, Jim climbed the stairs to his room. All the while feeling Blair's questioning gaze boring into his back.

A tiny orange light flared in the darkness as Paco Escallante took a long drag of his cigarette. Shifting from one foot to another, he leaned back against the Chevy and wondered how much longer he would have to wait. Ten minutes later the waiting was over, as a car with darkened headlights pulled into the other end of the alley. The vehicle came to a halt and turning off the ignition, the driver stepped out.

Paco pushed away from the Chevy and went to meet the other man, hand outstretched in greeting. "Thomas," he said, "it's good to have you back."

Thomas Santiago pulled the younger man into a hug. "It's good to be home, my friend," he told Paco, clapping him soundly on the back.

Greetings dispensed with, Santiago was ready to get down to business. "You have the information I requested?" he asked.

Escallante shifted nervously. "We still haven't found out where she lives, but," he hurriedly went on to add, "she's been seen taking classes at the university."

Thomas appeared to mull this information over, then gave a curt nod. "And the boy?" he inquired.

"He attends the university's day care center while she is in class," Paco informed him.

"Good," Santiago replied with a ruthless smile. "Tomorrow I take back what is mine." He frowned as Escallante's glance darted nervously away. "What is it you're not telling me?" he asked.

"It may be nothing," Paco hedged.

Grabbing Escallante by the shirt front, Santiago jerked him forward. "Tell me!" he demanded, his tone deadly.

"Julio says she's been seeing someone at the university."

"WHO?" Thomas bellowed, shaking Paco.

"Some guy named Sandburg," Escallante stammered in the face of Santiago's anger.

From out of nowhere a switchblade appeared, it's blade glistening dangerously in the moonlight. "Then I shall take great pleasure in gutting this Sandburg," Thomas sneered, "and I will make the whore watch while I do it."

Paco's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. Santiago released him and the knife disappeared as quickly as it had first appeared.

All traces of his previous anger miraculously melted away. "The others, they are assembled?" Santiago asked.

Escallante silently nodded.

"I am pleased to hear it," Thomas replied. "Take me to them. I have been away far too long and we have much to discuss."

Abandoning the stolen vehicle, the two men climbed into the Chevy and under the cover of darkness, went to rendezvous with the rest of the Desperado's.

The Ford pickup pulled up in front of the university's day care center. Sandburg flashed Ellison an apologetic smile. "Thanks for the lift, Jim. Hopefully you won't have to do this much longer. The mechanic promised me that the part for the Volvo would be in today."

"It's not a problem Chief," Ellison assured his roommate. "What time do you want me to pick you up?"

Blair mentally reviewed his schedule. "I should be through here about 11:30. If you're free then, I'll treat you to lunch," he offered.

Jim pursed his lips in thought. "Sounds good," he said with a nod. "I've been having a craving for Wonder Burgers."

Blair held up his hands. "Hey, they're your arteries man." He caught Ellison's smirk and shot him an exasperated look. "You set me up for that, didn't you?" he accused.

"Chief, I'm crushed that you would even think that," Jim exclaimed, slightly offended.

"Ah huh," Sandburg replied suspiciously. He opened the truck door and hopped out. Turning to shut the door he caught the older man mid-smile. Blair rolled his eyes. "Man, I am like so easy," he groused good naturedly.

Ellison chuckled. "Don't worry about it Chief. I'll even let you pick some place disgustingly healthy for lunch."

"It would serve you right if I did," Blair responded, trying very hard to look perturbed. He couldn't maintain the facade. "I'll catch you later buddy," he told Jim with a smile and slammed the truck door.

Wincing at the harsh treatment of his precious 'baby', Ellison raised a hand in farewell and drove off.

With a chortle, Blair turned and headed for the day care center, eagerly anticipating his time with the kids.

The first time he had arrived at the daycare center while the mothers were still dropping off their children, Sandburg swore never again. Strangely unnerved by their looks of interest and appreciation, he had since rearranged his schedule so that he arrived well after their departure. Not that he was actually afraid of the women, he silently assured himself. But realistically one had to admit that his luck in that department hadn't been the best. Especially with the last two. Blair shuddered involuntarily. No, it was better to keep his distance. At least until he was certain of their intent. The only ones he now allowed past the invisible barrier he had erected, were friends of long standing and the children. True, there was Theresa, the one exception to his rule. But then he was only tutoring her, and after all, what possible threat could the mother of a small child present? So it was with confidence that Blair strode into the daycare center a few minutes after 8:00 a.m.

The morning was progressing well with Blair enjoying himself as much, if not more, than the children. After spending some time building forts and castles with Lincoln Logs, they moved onto coloring and drawing pictures. At one point Sandburg picked up a crayon and began sketching a caricature of Holly, an inquisitive little girl with a long blond ponytail and hazel eyes. Upon seeing her portrait, she laughed with delight and flung her arms around Blair's neck, hugging him soundly.

"See what you've started," Pam, another of the volunteer staff gently teased as the rest of the children were soon clamoring to have their pictures done as well.

Sandburg smiled unabashed. Having known her for several years from the university, he felt comfortable around her, as he did with Maddie, the other volunteer working that day. "What can I say," he told her, "I'm a man of many talents."

"Uh huh," she replied, then warned, "just don't go doing one of those of me."

Blair glanced down at the drawing he was currently working on and frowned. "Come on, I don't think I'm that bad."

"No, you're that good," she corrected, "and I don't think my poor ego could handle it." And with a parting smile, she turned to help one of the children with his shoelaces.

Finishing the last drawing with a flourish, Sandburg handed the picture to Billy. The small boy's eyes widened with pleasure. "Wow, that's so cool!" he exclaimed. "I'm gonna be a... a...."

"Artist," Blair supplied.

"Yeah," Billy said, "an artist when I grow up."

"That's great man," Blair responded with an enthusiastic smile. "When you become famous, I can say I knew you when ...."

The rest of Sandburg's sentence was cut off as the door burst open. Eight Latino men carrying weapons entered and positioned themselves around the room. Startled by the intruders, the room broke into chaos. Blair stood abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.

Reaching out, one of the men grabbed Pam in a choke hold and pointed a gun at her head. "Silencio!" he yelled into the mayhem, "or I will kill her." It took a few minutes, but eventually the dim was reduced to muffled sobs emitted by the frightened children.

Seeing the terror-struck expression etched on Pam's face, Blair slowly moved from behind the table at which he had been working. "Don't hurt her man. Just tell us what you want."

Sandburg's outburst brought him under the close scrutiny from the apparent leader of the group. His eyes narrowed dangerously. Thrusting Pam towards one of his cohorts, he announced. "I have come for my son, Miguel Santiago."

Santiago! Blair's mind screamed in warning, realizing for the first time just how precarious their situation really was. He shot Pam and Maddie a look of warning, hoping to convey in that one glance, the words he dared not utter aloud. His gaze returned to Santiago and raising his chin decisively, he told the Latino, "There's no one here by that name, so why don't you just leave." Silently, Sandburg cursed the slight tremor in his voice brought on by nerves.

With exaggerated tenderness, Thomas laid his hand on the head of a little girl standing nearby. Gently he began stroking the dark curls and Blair felt himself shudder in revulsion. "While he may not be going by the illustrious name of Santiago, I have it on good authority that he attends here." Viciously he grabbed a handful of the child's hair and brutally yanked her towards him. "Now, where is my son?" he demanded, his tone and actions brooking no argument. "Or do I have to start depriving other parents of their children as I have been deprived of mine."

Sandburg's fear for the child propelled him forward. "Miguel's not here today," he informed Santiago. "Now let her go!"

A flicker of respect flashed across Santiago's face and he released the child into Maddie's waiting arms. A quick nod resulted in one of his cohorts roughly pushing Blair forward until he was within reach of Thomas. "You would be a hero?" he asked Sandburg, his lip curling in a sneer.

Blair suddenly had trouble swallowing past the lump in his throat and his brain went on sabbatical. Fixing Santiago with his ocean blue orbs, he told the man. "I'm no hero. But then again it doesn't take a hero to stand up against cowards who would threaten women and children."

Santiago smiled as if amused, then viciously struck the side of Sandburg's face with the barrel of his gun. Blair would have fallen at the impact were it not for the strong hands now painfully gripping his arms from behind. Thomas moved closer and clenching the young man's chin firmly, forced Blair's face up until their eyes met in a silent duel. "What is your name little man?" he asked Sandburg.

His head still reeling from the impact, it wasn't until Santiago repeated the question and increased the pressure on his jaw, that Blair realized he was being addressed. "Sandburg," he gasped past the pain, "Blair Sandburg."

Blair's chin was abruptly released as Santiago's hand came up to rest along his cheek. "Ah..." Thomas replied, patting the abused cheekbone, "so you're the one my faithless Maria has taken up with." He eyed Sandburg from head to toe, his utter contempt obvious in his perusal. "You both will be made to pay for that." Releasing Blair, he stepped back. "But first things first. I want you to tell me where my son is or I will order the execution of the children. One by one they will die until you tell me. And let me assure you my friend," he said, his voice growing low and dangerous, "that is not an idle threat."

Sandburg hesitated, uncertain what to do. Even if he told Santiago what he wanted to know, there was no guarantee that the women and children would be released unharmed. Blair knew that he didn't factor into that equation. Based on Santiago's erroneous suspicions, he was a dead man either way.

It wasn't until a silent signal from Santiago caused one of his men to point his weapon at little Terry, that Blair found his voice. "Theresa.... Maria," he corrected, since it was now obvious that the woman he had come to know as Theresa Sanchez was in actuality, Maria Lopez, former girlfriend to Thomas Santiago, "took him to the clinic."

Santiago's dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Which clinic?" he asked.

"I don't know," Sandburg reluctantly admitted, glancing nervously at the gun still pointed at Terry. Another inarticulate nod from Santiago and the gun was cocked. Blair's eyes widened in trepidation. "I don't know, I swear!" he pleaded.

"The information you want will be in his file," Pam blurted out. "I'm sorry Blair," she apologized upon seeing his appalled expression, "but I have to think about the rest of the children." Sandburg mutely implied his understanding.

"Get it," Santiago ordered, indicating that Paco should accompany her.

Pam entered the daycare's office and pulled Miguel's records. Paco hastily snatched them out of her hands and with a wave of his weapon, indicated for her to rejoin the others. Returning to the playroom, he handed Santiago the file.

Tucking his own gun in the waistband of his jeans, Santiago opened the folder and began to read. "Ah perfect," he crooned after a moment. "Not only is the address of the clinic in here, but her home address as well." He snapped the file shut. "Soon I will be able to extract my revenge on the traitorous bitch and my son will be where he rightfully belongs... by my side."

"WHAT!" Blair exclaimed, incredulous. "The only place Miguel belongs is as far away from you as possible.... Ug," Sandburg grunted in pain as the butt of a semi automatic rifle impacted with his stomach, abruptly cutting off any further comment.

The force of the blow and the pain radiating throughout his abdomen sent Blair to his knees. Hands cruelly grabbed his hair, yanking his head back. Sandburg opened his eyes and found himself looking into two black spheres of death as Santiago glared down at him. "You would be wise to keep your opinions to yourself," he warned the anthropologist, "provided you wish to live a little longer, that is."

Wisely Sandburg swallowed his retort as Santiago released him and went to confer with the rest of his men. Eyes closed, hands clutched around his battered stomach, Blair tried to breathe past the pain. At the touch of a tiny hand on his face, Sandburg's eyes snapped open to discover Terry worryingly gazing at him. Summoning a smile for the small child, he assured her, "It's all right. Everything's going to be fine."

"Listen up people," Santiago's voice boomed. "Some of my men and I will be going to retrieve my son. The rest will remain here..."

"Why?" Blair asked, cutting Santiago off. "You've got your information, why don't you just leave them alone?" The steel tipped boot of the man standing directly behind Sandburg struck out, hitting Blair in the lower back. As he cried out, arching away from the pain, rough hands on either side grabbed his arms and yanked Blair to his feet.

Head hanging limply, Santiago's voice reached Sandburg through a hazy tunnel of cognizance. "I haven't figured out yet if you are just plain stupid or suicidal," Santiago spat at him. He patted Blair's cheek in a horribly reminiscent imitation of Terry's earlier caress. "Don't worry though. Whether or not you want to die, it is my every intention to accommodate you." Santiago stepped back. "Bring him," he ordered his men and Blair Sandburg was dragged, half unconscious from the room.

He had alternated from drumming his fingers against the steering wheel to checking his watch. Sandburg was ten minutes late. Jim's stomach rumbled, reminding him of their lunch appointment. Assuming that his partner had once again lost track of the time, Ellison climbed out of his truck and went to go get him. Not that he really minded. Jim got as much enjoyment out of watching Blair interact with the children as Sandburg did playing with them. It was good to see his guide relaxed and happy. Something he'd had precious little of over the past several months.

A smile played at Ellison's lips as he recalled the day he had to rescue Blair from the infamous Silly String battle. So fierce it had become that it had been hard to determine where the silly string left off and his partner began. If only all of Sandburg's predicaments could be so frivolous.

As Jim approached the single level day care center, set apart from the rest of the campus, his sentinel senses suddenly alerted him of impending danger. Automatically drawing his weapon, he took protective cover along side the brick structure and focused his heightened senses on it's interior.

Scent was the first of the senses to kick in as Jim recognized the pungent stench of fear. Next he honed in on his hearing, only to be overwhelmed by the multitude of heartbeats rapidly telegraphing their alarm. Ellison winced in pain, his hands unconsciously rising to cover his ears. In his mind, Jim heard his guide's voice instructing him to turn down the knob. Ellison focused on the imaginary dial and soon had it adjusted to a more comfortable level. It was then that he heard the words that caused his blood to run cold.

"I don't see why Santiago had to leave us here to baby sit a bunch of kids," complained a male voice. "He got the information he came for."

"Thomas wants them held as potential hostages until he's got Miguel back," came the terse reply.

"And then?" The first voice asked.

Ellison felt his anxiety grow in the lengthy pause before the second man responded. "No one that can identify Thomas is to be left alive."

"SHIT!" came the muffled exclamation as Jim tried to choke back the nausea rising to gag him. "Nobody said nothing about killing no kids," the first man complained.

"Well I suggest you follow orders," came the whispered warning, "unless you want to be one of those that end up on the casualty list."

Oh God, this can't be happening, Ellison silently groaned. There was no way he was going to let Santiago and his gang cause the deaths of more children. Somehow he was going to get them and his partner out, safe and alive.

Sandburg! he thought, suddenly horrified to realize that, in all this time, he had not once heard his partner's voice.

Slowly Jim turned up the volume dial until once again the heartbeats of those inside could be heard. Using the techniques the anthropologist had taught him, one by one, he eliminated those of unfamiliar cadence, searching for his friend, until none were left. Ellison felt himself sway at the significance of the missing heartbeat. It could only mean one of two things. Either Sandburg wasn't in there or he was... dead.

Fear and rage rose up to war with one another. The sentinel within ached to storm the building. To rip apart those that would dare threaten his tribe and more importantly, his guide. The cop part of him knew that such a response would only jeopardize the lives of those inside. So forcibly restraining the primal urge to attack and defend, Ellison retreated to call for back up.

Hector Morales returned to the nondescript white van. Posing as Theresa's brother, he had entered the clinic under the pretense of checking on his nephew. The news he had to report was not good. "According to their records, she never showed up," he told Thomas.

Muttering obscenities in Spanish, Santiago yanked the bound grad student up, "You lied to me little man," he growled.

Still in pain from the earlier beating, Blair's breath hitched as he was roughly hauled forward. "I didn't!" he gasped in protest. "That's what she told me."

Santiago's eyes bore into Sandburg's soul as if trying to assess the truth of his statement. Abruptly he released his prisoner, allowing Blair to crumple to the floor of the van. "Then you'd better hope for your sake that she is at home. Otherwise I may become angry." Santiago smiled ferally. "And trust me, you don't want to see me when I'm angry."

His mouth had become dry and Blair silently wished he could muster enough spit to swallow past the obstruction of fear threatening to choke him. Unconsciously, he tried to inch away from the threat hovering over him. But the hands securely bound behind his back could find no purchase.

Santiago recognized Sandburg's fear and reveled in it. His harsh laughter rang out filling the van with it's maniacal peal. Shooting Blair a look of superiority, he ordered the driver to head for Maria's house.

Utterly desolate, Blair closed his eyes against the relentless gaze and silently wondered how a day that had started out so well, could have gone so horribly wrong. He'd been having such a great time with the kids and then he was suppose to treat Jim to lunch. JIM! his mind screamed. In all the excitement he had forgotten about the detective. When his roommate came to pick him up for lunch he would discover what was going on, and Blair had no doubts about the cops ability to safely free the children. So it was with a renewed sense of hope that Sandburg turned his attention to his own precarious predicament and began searching for a means of escape.

By the time Simon Banks pulled up, the immediate area had been cordoned off. The officers and field command center were positioned out of sight and far enough away from the day care center as not to advertise their presence to those inside. As with all potential hostage situations the SWAT team had been called in and it was with Burke, the team's captain, that Ellison stood talking.

Burke was called away as Simon hurriedly joined Ellison. "Jim," he acknowledged Ellison with a nod. "What have you got?"

"Six adults, two of which are probably staff and fifteen children."

"Jesus," Banks muttered. "So that means we've got four men with unknown fire power and seventeen hostages," Simon reiterated and rubbed at the headache threatening to burst forth. "Do we have any idea what they want?"

Ellison shook his head in frustration. "All I know is Santiago wants Miguel and is holding the others as possible hostages until he gets him."

"Wait a minute," Simon interrupted. "Who is Miguel?"

"The only person I know of connected to the center by that name is a four year old little boy," Jim said.

Banks seemed taken aback. "Why would Santiago be after a child?"

Ellison shrugged. "I don't know Simon, but I suggest we find him and his mother before Santiago does."

"I agree," Banks replied as Jim went onto explain.

"The mother is a student here by the name of Theresa Sanchez. And the reason Miguel is not at the center today is because she was supposed to be taking him to the clinic."

"Okay, I'll get someone to check it out," Simon replied. "We should be able to get an address from the university's records department." Banks frowned as Ellison nodded distractedly. Something else was bothering the detective. "What is it you're not telling me?" Simon prompted and was shocked to see trepidation in the blue eyes that Ellison turned to him.

"Sandburg was volunteering at the center today...."

"WHAT!" Banks choked, his eyes going wide. "You mean to tell me that Sandburg's in there?"

"I don't know sir," Jim replied with a frustrated sigh.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Simon roared. "You just told me that...."

Ellison's quiet statement of "I can't hear his heartbeat," stopped Simon's tirade mid stride.

"You don't... you think he's dead?" Banks asked, looking as though he'd just been kicked in the solar plexus.

Jim couldn't bring himself to answer.

Unnerved, Simon began pacing. Thinking aloud as he went. "All right, we know that Santiago went looking for Miguel. Maybe he took Sandburg with him," Banks suggested.

"Why would he do that?" Ellison asked, his tone flat, unemotional, reserved.

"I don't know, damn it!" Simon snapped. "But I refuse to believe that Sandburg's dead." He glared at Jim, his anger suddenly abating at the sight of the stoic man standing before him. Simon's tone softened. "The kid's been in worse situations Jim and made it out okay. You just have to trust that he will this time too."

"I wish I had your faith sir," Ellison replied morosely.

Simon laid a comforting hand on Jim's shoulder. "Come on," he encouraged, "let's go and see what we can do about getting everyone out of this in one piece."

Needing some sort of diversion from his riotous thoughts, Ellison allowed his captain to lead him towards the mobile command center.

Thomas Santiago surveyed his son's room. It was apparent that the boy's mother had taken great pains to decorate it and provide the child with all the necessities. But now the room stood in disarray. Drawers had been left open, clothes strewn about in haste. Obviously someone had packed in a hurry.

Hector appeared in the doorway. "Maria's room is the same," he reported.

Thomas bent and picked up a small stuffed bear left behind in the precipitous departure. "There is a traitor among us," he told Hector. The bear, now forgotten, was crushed mercilessly within his grip. "Whoever it is shall pay dearly; with their life."

Hector visibly blanched. Santiago's anger and ruthlessness was legend among the Desperado's and apparently his time spent in prison had done little, or nothing, to tame his viciousness. "So, what do we do now?" Hector asked.

Santiago carelessly tossed the mangled stuffed animal aside. Pulling out a cell phone, he quickly dialed Paco. "Yeah, it's me," he said into the receiver when the other man answered. "No, someone warned her and the bitch got away. I want you and the others to take care of the situation there. Make it look like an accident," came the final instruction. Stabbing the off button, he turned to Hector. "Come," Thomas said, "we have much to do."

Simon Banks recognized the familiar tilt to Ellison's head and the intense concentration on the man's face. It meant that he was listening to something. "What is it Jim?" he asked as a look of horror flashed across the detective's features.

"Santiago just called," Ellison explained and went on to reiterate the rest of the conversation he had overheard.

"I don't like the sound of this," Simon replied with a worried countenance. "You got any ideas on what they're planning?"

"No sir," Ellison reluctantly admitted. "Just that he instructed them to make it look like an accident."

"Well that doesn't leave them too many options," Simon said thoughtfully.

"No sir, it doesn't." Ellison looked up as an idea suddenly occurred. "The gas line," Jim stated.

Simon swiftly pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "This is Captain Banks," he spoke into the receiver. "I need you to contact the utility company and have them shut off the natural gas lines to Rainier University's Day Care Center immediately..... Right, let me know when it's been taken care of." Clicking off the phone he told Jim, "Well that's one accident that won't happen."

Waving Burke over, Simon quickly brought the captain of the S.W.A.T. team up to date. "The question now gentlemen," Banks finished by saying, "is how do we go about getting the hostages out safely?"

"Maybe this will help," Burke said, unrolling the blueprints to the building he had secured from the campus administrations office.

As the three men studied the floor plans, Ellison couldn't help but wonder and worry. Outwardly his demeanor was one of calm professionalism. Inwardly though was another matter. Both cop and sentinel instincts raged at the thought of all those innocent lives hanging in the balance. Their continued existence dependent upon the knowledge and expertise of the Cascade PD and the unknown factor of the four potentially dangerous gang members inside.

And then there was the question of his missing partner. Was Sandburg lying in there somewhere already dead, or had Santiago taken Blair with him? And if so, why? The not knowing was what was tearing Ellison up inside. As their friendship had progressed and the bond between the sentinel and his guide deepened, Jim always thought he'd instinctively know if something happened to his guide. There had been other instances in the past, when some innate sensory perception, had warned him when his friend was in danger. But this time, that mysterious link that bound the two men together was inexplicably and frustratingly, silent.

"JIM!" Banks called, forcing Ellison to abandon his silent musings and pat attention to the matter at hand. This at least was something tangible. Something that could be dealt with in the here and now. The lives of seventeen people were at stake. The question of what had happened to his friend and partner would just have to wait.

As unobtrusively as possible Blair worked at trying to loosen the ropes binding his wrist, but whoever had tied his hands behind his back had done a thorough job. There was virtually no play and his struggles had merely resulted in scraping several layers of skin raw.

The van hit another pothole and Sandburg stifled a groan as the jarring movement sent pain coursing throughout the various battered regions of his body. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to ward off the dizziness and nausea threatening to overwhelm him.

Finally, there was welcomed relief as the van stopped and the rear doors were swung open from the outside. Roughly hauled to his feet and pushed ahead, Blair would have stumbled on his departure from the van were it not for the brutal grip suddenly supporting him. Blinking in in the harsh sunlight, Sandburg barely had time to note the surrounding junk yard before he was dragged inside a large concrete building, it's whitewashed exterior weathered with age.

Unnerved by the various and sometimes intimidating stares of the young men surrounding him, Blair kept his head bowed as he was hauled deeper into the bowels of the building. Concentrating on merely remaining upright, he was momentarily surprised by the abrupt cessation of movement.

"What do you want me to do with him?" Hector asked Thomas, as he jerked Sandburg to a halt.

Santiago's thin lips curled upwards into a parody of a smile as he contemplatively eyed his captive. "Oh the plans I have for this little sabandija." Reaching out, Thomas cupped the side of Sandburg's face, running a thumb over the assaulted cheekbone. Repulsed by the action, Blair involuntarily flinched, much to Santiago's enjoyment. He laughed harshly. "Are you frightened? In pain?" The amusement vanished from Thomas' face. "It is nothing compared to what you will feel. This I promise you."

Letting his hand drop Santiago glanced around the cavernous room, his eyes finally settling on a large grappling hook connected to a pulley system. A low rumble of jocularity burst forth, growing in intensity until Thomas was laughing aloud. It was a harsh, intimidating sound totally devoid of compassion and Sandburg felt his blood run cold. "String him up," Santiago ordered.

Catcalls and snide remarks erupted from the assembled Desperado's as Blair was hauled over to the ominous looking device. Pausing, Morales whipped out a switch blade and began cutting through the blood covered rope binding Sandburg's hands.

Blair hissed in pain as the sawing motion caused the rope to bite into the already flayed skin. Cognizant thought fled as the release of the bindings signaled freedom. Spurred on by fear, he pivoted and thrust an elbow into Hector's abdomen. The knife clattered to the concrete floor as Morales doubled over in pain. Blair started for the knife only to stop dead in his tracks as a loud explosion sounded and a bullet went whizzing by his ear. Slowly he straightened and turned to face Santiago.

Thomas snorted with wry amusement. "You have balls chivato, I'll give you that much." The pitch-black eyes narrowed dangerously. "Teach him a lesson," he instructed Hector, who had retrieved the fallen switch blade and was now shooting hate filled daggers at Sandburg. "But don't kill him," Santiago warned. "That is a pleasure I reserve for myself."

Breathing heavily, the dark Latino trembled with suppressed rage. No one got the best of Hector Morales. Especially not this pathetic excuse for a man. Grabbing the anthropologist, he turned, slamming Sandburg against one of the vertical steel support beams. A distinctive thud rang out as Blair's head resoundingly connected with the structure.

Blair's vision flared to a blinding white, ebbed to gray, then finally a jet black as he slid down the pole to crumble unconscious at it's base. A tell-tale streak of bright red smearing the post, left in his wake. Using his foot, Hector nudged the inert form over onto his back, growling with contempt when he discovered Sandburg was unconscious.

Santiago made a tisking sound of disapproval. "I told you not to play too rough Hector. Now look what you've done."

Frustrated at having his enjoyment cut short, Morales struck out, savagely kicking Blair in the side.

"ENOUGH!" Santiago commanded. "There will be time enough for that later. String him up as I instructed and let's get down to business. My son and his traitorous bitch of a mother must be found."

As Hector proceeded to carry out his orders, Santiago turned to address the rest of the Desperado's. "Speaking of traitors..." His eyes surveyed the assembled group. Carefully lighting on each individual, silently assessing their guilt or innocence, before moving onto the next. Completing his evaluation, Thomas frowned in consternation upon realizing that his younger brother was missing. Nor could he recall having seen him since earlier that morning. "Where is Raul?" he asked.

Shrugs and negative responses were his reply. Hector looked up startled. "Surely you don't think....He's your brother!" Morales exclaimed.

"He was my brother," Santiago spat. "Find him and you will find Maria and my son."

As the Desperado's quickly scrambled to carry out Santiago's orders, Hector reached out, grabbing Thomas' arm. "What are you going to do to him when we find him?" he asked apprehensively.

Santiago shrugged, unconcerned. "He will die, along with this one," he said indicating the unconscious form of Sandburg, "and Maria."

Looking into the cold, cruel eyes of his mentor, Morales involuntarily shuddered and wondered for the first time if perhaps Santiago wasn't leading them all straight to hell.

Raul carefully scanned the area before slipping down the alleyway and into the rear entrance of the abandoned tenement. Taking the rickety stairs two at a time, he swiftly made his way up to the fifth floor. Picking his way along the trash strewn hallway, he stopped and entered apartment 502.

Maria quickly looked up from where she was tending to her sick son. "Did you get it?" she anxiously inquired.

Raul nodded, handing her the bag from the drug store. "How's he doing?" he asked, looking with concern at the small child huddled in sleep on the beige and white sofa.

"His fever is up a little," she replied, taking the Children's Tylenol from the sack. "Hopefully this will help bring it down." Gently she roused her son and gave him the medicine. Within moments, Miguel fell back asleep. His tiny features flushed and clammy. Tenderly she brushed back the damp locks of hair and placed a kiss upon his fevered brow.

Taking Raul aside, as not to disturb the sleeping child, she asked. "What did you find out?"

"It's not good, querida," Raul replied, his expression growing dim. "They went to the clinic, just as I told you they would."

"Oh mi dios!" Maria exclaimed. "We have to get out of here. I will not let that animal take my son."

"They have the bus station staked out," Raul informed her. "We will have to wait until dark." He shrugged. "Maybe then I can hot wire a car."

"NO!" Maria was adamant. "What kind of example would that set for my son?"

"But it is for you and the boy that I would do this."

Maria gently cupped either side of Raul's face and gazed lovingly into his eyes. "I know you would. But the man I came to respect and fall in love with, would not break the law. No matter what the provocation."

"We have no other choice," Raul insisted.

"Maybe we do," Maria replied thoughtfully. "There is a man at the university, Blair Sandburg. He might help us."

"Your tutor?" Raul questioned. "What could he do?"

"I've heard that he works with the police as a consultant," Maria explained. "He's got to have some idea on the best way to handle this situation."

Raul looked skeptical. "I don't know about this..."

"Please Raul," Maria begged. "Go to the university. Talk with Blair. Please, our lives are at stake."

Taking Maria's hands in his own, Raul looked into the pleading face of the woman he had come to love more than life itself. "Very well, querida," he said, placing a kiss upon her delicate hands. "I never could refuse you anything." Reluctantly he pulled away and headed for the door. Opening it, he paused and looked back. "Stay inside," he warned. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Be careful," she cautioned, her features clearly defining her anxiety.

"I will," he promised before quietly closing the door.

Returning to sit beside her son, Maria's thoughts strayed to the deadly turn her life had taken. Silently she vowed to do everything within her power to protect those she loved from the heartless bastard known as Thomas Santiago.

The blueprints had been closely examined, hoping to discover a means of settling the situation without endangering the lives of the hostages. All covert avenues though, appeared to be impossible. The partially closed blinds prevented the SWAT team sharp shooters from getting a clear shot. And the building's ventilation system was too small to allow entry by that route. It appeared their only recourse was one of negotiation. As yet unaware of the police presence, the gang members inside felt secure. Soon that would change. As soon as negotiations were opened and they became aware of the police force surrounding them, they would feel threatened. And like most cornered animals, would become even more dangerous.

"I don't see any other option," Banks admitted with a frustrated sigh. "By now they've discovered that the gas line has been cut. We've got to let them know we're here before they come up with some other way of disposing of the hostages."

Nodding somberly, the three men agreed.

Having already obtained the day care center's phone number, Simon pulled out his cell phone, preparing to dial. His mask of consternation turned to one of annoyance as a news crew truck pulled up behind the cordoned off area. "Oh great," Banks sarcastically exclaimed. "That's all we need. How in the hell did they find out about this?" Angrily, he strode towards the news van muttering, "Damn vultures."

Ellison swiftly followed his captain, reaching the truck just as the news crew climbed out. Jim recognized the reporter Jennifer Atkins, head anchor for the 5:00 news.

"Captain Banks," she began as the camera man hoisted the camera atop his shoulder and began filming. "We've received reports that there is a hostage situation currently in progress at the Rainier University Day Care Center. Would you care to comment on that?"

Simon drew himself up into his full intimidating height. His expression one of anger and authority. "The only comment I'm going to make," he told Atkins, "is that if you and your crew aren't out of here in five minutes, I'm going to have you arrested for impeding a police investigation."

"You can't do that!" the report sputtered indignantly. "The Constitution guarantees...."

"Look lady," Ellison interrupted. "Right now we could care less about your rights. So unless you want to spend the next few hours in jail, I suggest you back off."

"The police commissioner is going to hear about this," she threatened bitterly.

"I don't give a damn if you tell the fucking president," Banks retorted. "Just get the hell out of the way and let us do our jobs."

Turning, Simon motioned a couple of uniformed officers over. "Escort these people off the premises," he ordered. "And make sure you keep the rest of the media out. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," came the unanimous response as the officers proceeded to carry out their orders.

Dismissing the relevance of the reporters, Banks and Ellison returned to the command center. Neither noticing the slim Latino youth hidden behind a nearby tree. Shaken, Raul disappeared into the nearby woods.

This was one contingency he hadn't anticipated. Although knowing the ruthless nature of his brother, perhaps he should have. What in God's name am I going to tell Maria? he thought, making his way back across the campus grounds. She'll be devastated.

His conscience was at war with itself. Part of him wanted to keep this news from his beloved. Knowing full well that she would insist on doing something about it, as she had once before. But his love for Maria had also changed him. No longer did he blindly follow the lead of his brother. Or do things he knew to be wrong just to maintain his acceptance and status within the Desperado's. For several years now he had worked within the group, trying to turn them away from the usual gang mentality and into a positive force within their community. And with Thomas and some of the more dangerous members in jail, he had been making progress. That was until Thomas came back. Could he abandon the principles he had striven to maintain over the past few years? No, he couldn't. Not and be the man that Maria had fallen in love with. With a heavy heart, Raul hurried to catch the bus. Maria was waiting and the news he had to impart was not good.

"What do you mean the gas line's been cut? " Paco Escallante questioned with disbelief as he stormed past Antonio and into the small utility room located at the rear of the building.

"Just what I said," Antonio retorted, following.

Paco eyed the gas connections with confusion. "What's wrong with it?" he asked.

"Do I look like the Gas & Electric Company?" Antonio snorted sarcastically. "I don't know man, your guess is as good as mine."

"Damn it," Escallante ground out. "We'll have to find another way to dispose of the hostages."

"I don't see why we have to kill them in the first place," Antonio replied. "I mean, they're just kids for Christ sakes!"

Paco grabbed the front of Antonio's jacket and slammed him up against the wall. "Because," Escallante explained, "that is what Thomas told us to do. Now I suggest you shut your mouth before I shut it for you, permanently."

"All right, all right," Antonio agreed raising his hands in submission. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Come on," Paco said, pushing Antonio ahead of him. "Let's get back to the others. We need to figure a way out of this mess."

As the two men returned to the main room the telephone in the office could be heard ringing. "What's going on?" Escallante demanded.

"It's probably one of the parents calling," Pam spoke up. "If we don't answer it they're bound to get worried."

The last thing we need is some concerned parent showing up, Paco thought. Hauling Pam up by the arm, he shoved her into the daycare's tiny office and towards the phone. "Answer it," he instructed. "But don't even think about saying anything out of line," Paco warned, gesturing with the gun for emphasis.

Swallowing nervously, Pam gave a quick nod and picked up the phone. "Hello," she said, trying to keep the fear from her voice.

"This is Captain Banks with the Cascade PD," came the deep, slightly nasal response.

Pam noticeably blanched. Her eyes immediately seeking out Escallante.

"We're aware of your situation," Simon continued. "Is everyone all right?"

"Yes," Pam stammered, "we're fine."

"Good," Banks replied. "Now I need to speak to whoever is in charge."

Wordlessly, Pam handed Escallante the phone. "It's the police," she explained when Paco raised an eyebrow in question.

"SHIT!" Escallante exclaimed, slamming the receiver down in it's cradle. How in the hell did the cops find out about this? he silently mused, roughly grabbing Pam and returning to join the others. "We've got a problem," he said, going to a window and peering carefully through the partially closed blind. "The cops are onto us."

"WHAT! HOW?" Came the startled responses.

"Now what are we going to do?" Antonio asked, his dark eyes wide with apprehension.

"Just shut up and let me think," Paco bellowed, as he paced back and forth like a caged animal. Pausing, he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. "Yeah, it's me, Paco," he said in response to the answering voice. "Let me talk to Thomas."

Shifting impatiently as he waited for Santiago to come on the line, Escallante glanced around at the frightened faces of hostages and Desperado's alike and silently wondered who among them would live to see another day.

Santiago's face became flushed with anger as Paco filled him in on the latest development. "You idiot!" he stormed. "I give you one simple task and you manage to screw even that up."

"There's no way the cops could have known we were here," came Escallante's disembodied voice over the phone.

"Then how do you explain their presence?" Thomas' voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I don't know," Paco reluctantly admitted. "But they're probably also responsible for the gas line being shut down. The question now is, what are we going to do about it? They've already called here once."

"WHAT DID YOU TELL THEM?" Santiago demanded angrily.

"Nothing, I swear!" Escallante nervously assured the irate Santiago. "As soon as I found out who it was, I hung up on them. But I can't keep doing that indefinitely."

"No, you can't," Thomas replied thoughtfully. "Sooner or later, they will press the issue."

"So," Paco repeated, "what are we suppose to do?"

Santiago's voice was cold and emotionless. "I think you know what needs to be done."

Several seconds of dead air followed as Escallante processed the unspoken order. "You... you can't be serious?" he finally questioned with disbelief.

"Let me put it this way," Thomas replied, his tone deadly. "If anyone makes it out of there alive, I promise you, they won't live long enough to testify or see the inside of a prison."

"You self centered son of a bitch!" Paco spat. "You never gave a damn about any of us, did you?"

Escallante couldn't see Santiago's callous shrug. "You have your orders," Thomas reiterated before severing the connection.

He turned back to find Hector staring at him. Eyes wide, mouth agape. "What are you looking at?" Santiago snarled.

"Nothing Thomas," Morales stammered, under the sudden realization of just what type of man Thomas Santiago really was.

"Has there been any word on my son yet?"

"Not yet," Hector replied. "But we have a possible lead."

"Ah, very good," Santiago smiled. "Soon my son will take his rightful place by my side." The smile grew cruel. "And I will see my brother, the whore and her lover, dead."

Raul paused outside the apartment door, hesitant to turn the knob and enter. How swiftly all their lives had changed. And all due to one man, his own brother. He didn't know what demons drove his brother, nor did Raul care. His only concern at this moment was the lives and welfare of the innocents caught in the middle of his brother's plot for revenge. Were it within his power, he would send both Maria and Miguel far away from this place. To someplace where they would be safe while he dealt with the madness and destruction that was sure to ensue. But he knew Maria's soul. Knew she would not permit this. So with a heavy heart he turned the knob and entered.

Maria's head shot up, eyes wide with panic. Relief flooding her features when she saw who had entered. "So tell me," she prodded, "did you talk to Blair?"

"No," Raul responded gently. Misery filled eyes encompassed those of his beloved. "Maria, there is something that you need to know."

The color drained from Maria's dusky complexion as Raul explained what he had witnessed and overheard at the university.

"Dear Lord," Maria whispered. "Those poor children." She glanced away as unbid images of the school yard carnage from years ago, played in technicolor against the pristine white screen of her mind's eye. "No," she moaned, "not again. We mustn't let it happen again." Eyes pinched with fear, she turned to Raul. "We have to do something!" she exclaimed.

"The police are there," Raul pointed out. "What can we do that they can't?"

"I don't know," Maria admitted, pulling away to pace. "But we... I," she amended, "have to do something. I refuse to stand by while innocent children are slaughtered like so much cattle."

"You know it's you and the boy he's after," Raul reminded her. "Would you give up your son to him?"

"OF COURSE NOT!" Maria returned, eyes ablaze with anger. "But I know how much he despises me. Perhaps he would be willing to make a trade. Me for the hostages."

"And what of your son?" Raul retorted. His fear masquerading as anger. "What becomes of him when you are laying cold in your grave?"

"I trust in God to watch over him," Maria replied softly.

"Like he watched over those at the daycare center?" Raul snorted.

"Please Raul," Maria begged. "We both know that the right thing to do isn't always the easiest thing to do. It is because I am a mother that I must at least try."

Raul knew she was right. That didn't mean he had to like it. "Very well," he relented. "But there is no way I am going to let you do this alone." He raised a finger in warning when Maria would have protested. "That is my condition for allowing you to do this. First though, we need to make sure Miguel is safe. I know of someone who will treat him as if he were her own."

Maria tenderly cupped the side of his cheek. "Thank you Raul."

And it was with a mixture of trepidation and a heart over overflowing with love for her son and Raul that she went to wake Miguel.

"Son of a bitch," Ellison grated between clenched teeth. Ever since Simon's abruptly disconnected call to the gun men inside, Jim had been monitoring the situation with his enhanced senses. He had heard in exacting detail the heartless ultimatum rendered by Santiago. Quickly he brought Simon up to date.

"Damn," Banks muttered in disbelief. "Do you think they'll actually do it?"

Ellison's brow furrowed in thought. "Depends on what they're more afraid of, dying or Santiago."

Simon dialed the number for the daycare center. "Let's see if we can convince them there's another option."

The distant drone was persistent. Like the annoying buzz of a bumble bee. Too lethargic to move he tried willing the sound away. Instead it drew closer. Beckoning to him. Drawing him from the soothing embrace of the endless black void of weightlessness. Slowly, as the noise came closer, other factors began to register upon his subconscious. The dull ache in his wrists, arms and shoulders, that was growing in intensity. The razor sharp throbbing at the base of his skull which seemed to undulate outwards in waves. The copious aches and pains throughout other portions of his anatomy. And still the sound came closer.

Afraid of what additional pain movement might elicit. Blair tried to quell the minute shivers coursing throughout his body. Fearful of failure, he forced himself to concentrate on something other than the growing pain. In an act borne of desperation, he focused on the approaching sound.

Intermittently the drone became interspersed with intelligible words. The words, eventually sentences. The unfamiliar voices filled him with trepidation and the resulting adrenaline spike awakened the pain in his body to new heights. Groaning softly, he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. But the motion merely increased the unrelenting pain throughout his head and upper torso. Biting back a cry of distress, Blair once again fixed his attention elsewhere. This time on the voices speaking in hushed tones.

"Under Raul's leadership things were really starting to turn around for us," came the baritone voice of Hector Morales. "We were earning respect within the community. And not just the kind borne out of fear. Thomas doesn't care about the Desperado's. He would have us become murderers of children. And for what? So he can seek revenge against Maria and raise his son to become like him? No, this is wrong." Morales said with finality. "I was wrong, to bring Santiago back among us."

Santiago! The mere mention of the name stuck terror within Blair as pain shrouded memories of the day's events returned, rushing to the surface. His eyes shot open even as his heartbeat went into triple time. Blinking rapidly, the distorted mirror image of four men condensed into two. "You don't have to do this," he rasped between parched lips.

Startled, Hector and his companion turned towards Sandburg. Hung by bound wrists from a grappling hook, Morales' gaze took in the numerous injuries being sported by their unwilling guest. Realizing he was responsible for at least some of them, Hector for the first time in his life, felt shame. Was he any less of an animal than Thomas? Looking into the entreating blue eyes of their captive, Morales decided that yes, he was. Because he at least could feel remorse for his actions.

Wordlessly he walked over to the controls that operated the grappling hook and lowered Blair to the floor.

"What are you doing?" the other youth whispered, anxiously glancing about to make sure they were unobserved.

"Setting things right," Morales responded as he gently supported Sandburg's limp form and carefully lifted the bound wrist over and off the hook.

Blair moaned piteously as the circulation in his arms began to return.

"Quiet chivato," Hector warned. "They'll hear you."

Slinging one of Blair's arms over his shoulder, Morales turned to address his friend. "Are you coming?" he asked.

"Going somewhere? Santiago inquired, stepping out from behind some crates.

Morales could feel Sandburg's body trembling within his grip. Removing Blair's arm from around his shoulder, Hector stepped in from of him, shielding the smaller man with his body. "Yes," Morales replied, raising his chin defiantly, "I am taking him out of here."

Seemingly from out of nowhere a weapon appeared in Santiago's hand. The single shot discharged still ringing as Hector's lifeless body plowed backwards into Blair. Both men crumpling to the floor. Morales, dead from a gaping wound to his forehead. Sandburg, crushed beneath his dead weight.

"I don't think so," Thomas told the deceased form of his former friend.

Stunned silence permeated the room as Santiago eyed the remaining Desperado's with disdain. "How weak and pathetic you all have grown. My traitorous brother's influence no doubt." With narrowed eyes, he surveyed the assembled group. "So tell me," he said with smug assurance, "is there anyone else here who wishes to challenge my authority?"

The gang members shifted nervously, unwilling to meet Thomas' gaze."I didn't think so," Santiago sneered. "You two," he instructed, "dispose of this trash."

In unison the young men came forward and with one on each side, they lifted Hector off the dazed man beneath.

As Morales' lifeless body was dragged away, Santiago's hate filled eyes lit on Blair. There was no doubt in Thomas' mind that Sandburg was responsible for Hector's betrayal. Morales had been a good second until this gringo had come along. "Get him up," Santiago ordered and Blair was hauled unceremoniously to his feet. Semi conscious, Sandburg hung lax between the two pairs of hands holding him up. Santiago stepped forward, striking Blair sharply across the face.

Sandburg's head snapped sideways beneath the force of the blow. The stinging sensation rousing him from his stupor. Pain filled blue orbs lifted to stare rebellious at Santiago.

Unperturbed by the display, Thomas commented. "You are compounding your crimes. Too bad I can only kill you once. Still, I shall take great pleasure in making sure you die as slowly and painfully as possible."

"Hey, don't go to any trouble on my account," Blair retorted sarcastically. "The only one you have to blame for all this is yourself. It's your own actions that are turning them against you. They finally see you for what you truly are..."

"SILENCIO!" Santiago raged, raising his hand to strike Sandburg once more.

"Thomas," one of his men called, staying the motion, as he rushed into the building. "The others, they are back. And they have Raul, Maria and your son with them."

Letting the hand fall to his side, Santiago smiled. "At last my son and I will be united and my revenge extracted."

Tension filled the air as all eyes were focused on the brightly painted red door of the daycare center. Slowly the door opened and a half a dozen varying weapons were tossed out. Next, a slim Latino youth appeared, hands held up and away from his body in surrender. He paused, shifting nervously under the scrutiny of the armed officers. Finally stepping aside, three more men emerged to stand beside him.

In a choreographed display of teamwork the cops swiftly moved in. The four men were quickly handcuffed as other officers stormed past them and into the building. Ellison being one of the first ones inside.

Filled with trepidation at what he might find, Jim was relieved to note that all the hostages appeared safe and unharmed. A relief that swiftly evaporated as he contemplated the fate of his absent partner. A lingering residual scent f herbs and musk confirmed the fact that his friend had indeed been here, but the question remained, 'Where was he now?'

"Where's Sandburg?" Ellison anxiously questioned the young woman he had met on a previous visit to the center.

"I don't know Detective," Maddie replied, worry apparent in her drawn features. "The other men took Blair with them. They didn't say where they were going."

"Maybe the ones we have in custody can tell us something," Simon offered, coming to stand beside Ellison.

"They'll talk if they know what's good for them," Jim growled, pushing past Simon to head back outside.

"I hope Blair's okay," Maddie said softly.

"So do I miss," Simon replied as he watched Ellison stride from the room. Otherwise there's going to be hell to pay. And with a nod in the young woman's direction, he hurried to join Jim.

He arrived just in time to witness Ellison shove one of the gang members against the side of a police vehicle and demand, "Where's Sandburg?"

Held within the unrelenting grip of one very pissed off cop, Antonio had no intention of withholding information. "Santiago's got him," he stuttered.

"WHERE?" Jim snarled, yanking the kid forward.

"At the junkyard man. He took him to the junkyard!" Antonio babbled.

"Jim. That's enough," Simon censured. "Which one son?" Banks asked.

"The one over on Riverside," Antonio supplied.

Ellison thrust the young man towards a waiting officer and ran for his truck. Simon's call of "I'll meet you there with backup," following in his wake.

Fear for his friend and partner rose up to choke him. What kind of chance did Sandburg stand against the perversity of someone like Santiago? Praying against the odds that he'd find his friend alive and unharmed, Jim stomped down on the gas pedal.

Santiago's feral gaze fell on Raul, Maria and finally his son as the trio was brought to stand before him. They had been captured mere moments after leaving their hiding place. Maria tried to show no fear, but found herself forced to look away beneath it's scrutiny. It was then that she spotted Sandburg, bound and held upright between two of the gang members. Her eyes widened in horror. Not only by her tutor's presence there, but by his ragged and injured appearance. "Blair!" she cried out in disbelief. "Oh Blair, I'm so sorry you got caught up in the middle of this."

"ENOUGH!" Santiago bellowed when Sandburg would have spoken. He turned to Maria. "You thought I wouldn't find out about your lover?" he sneered.

Shocked. "My lover!" Maria gasped. "He's my tutor from the university, nothing more."

"As if I'd believe a lying little whore..."

"She's telling the truth," Raul interjected. "I know, because I am her lover," he added with more than a hint of pride.

"So, your betrayal of me is complete little brother," Thomas replied, nonplused by the revelation.

"It is you who have betrayed all if us," Raul spat. Only to be silenced by a back handed blow from Santiago.

"You of all people should understand the penalties for insurrection," Thomas told him tonelessly as Raul wiped away the blood from his split lip.

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," Raul replied with conviction. "You are nothing more than an animal who should have been drowned at birth."

Santiago's lips turned upwards in a parody of a smile. Stepping forward, he embraced Raul. "I can see that I made a mistake in my raising of you," Thomas whispered softly into his brother's ear. "A mistake that I alone must rectify." Suddenly a gun shot rent the air and Raul's eyes opened wide in surprise. As Santiago stepped away a blossoming spot of red showed clearly across the younger man's abdomen.

"RAUL!" Maria screamed as she watched her lover clutch his stomach and collapse onto the floor. She started towards the fallen man, stopping short as she recalled the presence of Miguel whimpering quietly in her arms. Embracing him closer, Maria turned away from the horrific sight. "You bastard!" she screeched at Thomas. "He was your brother!"

"He was a traitor," Santiago calmly corrected. "As you are my dear." He watched with detached emotion as a cascade of tears spilled from Maria's eyes and down her cheeks. "Weep not for his departure from this Earth, for you will soon be joining him." The amiable expression slipped from his features. "First though, you will give me my son."

"NEVER!" Maria swore. The deadly gleam of a tigress protecting her cub alight in her eyes.

Santiago shrugged with indifference. "Would you prefer that I take him from your arms after you are dead?"

As hopeless despair welled within, Maria glanced down at the cherub features of her son. His face flushed with fever, eyes round with fear, she was overcome with love for her only child. "Please," she begged through tear filled eyes directed at Thomas, "do what you will with me, but let my son and Blair go. Don't make two innocent people pay for my mistakes."

"You're wasting your breath," Blair told her, resigned to the fact that time was swiftly running out for both of them. "He's incapable of honor or compassion."

Santiago turned towards him and Blair braced for the blow he was sure to follow. Instead Thomas laughed. "You have balls chivato. Too bad you won't be needing them where you're going."

As Blair looked into the ominous orbs of death his only betrayal of fear was the slight bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. Still, he met the unrelenting gaze head on, refusing to cower beneath it.

With a slight nod of approval, Santiago stepped away and announced, "I have waited long enough. Now, give me my son."

Bestowing a gentle farewell kiss to the top of Miguel's head, Maria breathed in the glorious scent of her son. "Don't let him watch," she pleaded. Her heart breaking as she pried away the tiny clutching hands of her now sobbing child and delivered him into the arms of his father.

Miguel's cries rose in volume as he reached out towards his mother.

"You have turned him into a sissy," Thomas accused with distaste. "No matter, I will soon remedy that situation. And his first lesson will be to observe what happens to those who betray me."

"NO!" Maria gasped.

"You can't do that man," Blair angrily interjected. "He's just a kid!"

Santiago turned death's ear to Sandburg's impassioned plea. "Get on your knees," Thomas ordered his captives.

Her courage finally spent, Maria all but collapsed. Blair on the other hand refused to meekly obey. In a final act of desperation he struck out elbowing one of the men, holding him upright, in the stomach. Free from at least one restraint as the man grunted in pain and relinquished his grip on the anthropologist, Blair pivoted to strike, with bound hands, at the other. Only to be felled by a sharp blow between his shoulder blades. Grabbed by a handful of hair, he was viciously yanked upwards into the required kneeling position. Defiantly he glared up at the man standing before him.

"To demonstrate that I am not entirely without compassion," Santiago said, "you may have two minutes to make your peace with whichever God you hold dear."

Beside him, Blair could hear Maria softly whispering in prayer. With little time to spare, Blair closed his eyes and silently address that which he felt most important. I'm sorry Jim. Sorry that I never got the chance to thank you andtell you how much your friendship has meant to me. And I want you to promise me that you won't feel guilty about this, because I know you're out there, somewhere, doing everything within your power to find me. I guess we just finally ran out of our infamous luck, huh?

Blair felt tears forming beneath his closed lids. Not tears of fear, but tears for things lost. Tears for things that might have been. And in the overwhelming silence of the room, he heard the familiar sound of a gun being cocked.

Ellison made the trip across town in record time with Simon's sedan a mere three car lengths behind. En route, one by one, other police vehicles joined the urgent procession. Not wanting to announce their approach, within a mile of their destination, Banks ordered that all sirens be cut.

Two hundred yards ahead Jim spotted the junkyard. It's main gate stood wide open, welcoming in it's stance. Surprised, but not deterred by the lack of posted sentries as he sentinelly scanned ahead, Ellison drove through the open gate and into the yard. Slamming on the brakes, the truck's rear end fishtailed, throwing up a cloud of dirt and small stones.

Quickly sliding out of the vehicle, Jim drew his weapon, then setting aside his emotional involvement, forced himself to take a calming breath and extend his sense of hearing.

More than a dozen heartbeats pounded out a noisy cavalcade of unsynchronized rhythms. One in particular stood out because of it's familiarity. That of his guide. The frantic irregular pulse was both reassuring and frightening at the same time. Relief in that his friend and partner was still alive, but horrifying because it's rapid cadence indicated that he might not be for much longer. What he heard next, chilled Jim to the bone.

"To demonstrate that I am not entirely without compassion," Santiago said, "you may have two minutes to make your peace with whichever God you hold dear."

For several minutes Banks had been silently observing the detective's tense stance and look of total concentration. Simon knew Jim wasn't even aware of his presence, having instead focused his enhanced senses towards the white concrete structure ahead. He watched as Ellison suddenly stiffened and cried out 'No!' in protest.

"Jim, what is it?" Banks demanded, his brow furrowed with concern.

Shaking off the near zone out caused by intense concentration, Ellison turned to Simon. The urgency of the situation vividly reflected in the startling blue of his eyes. "Sandburg's in there," he told Banks, "along with a dozen or so others."

Simon smiled. "That's great," he said. "At least now we know he's still alive."

"Not for much longer Sir," Jim responded gravely. "Santiago just announced that he has two minutes to live."

"Shit!" Banks exclaimed and wasting no time, ordered his men to surround the building.

Santiago shifted Miguel into one arm and pointed his gun at the forehead of Sandburg with the other. Slowly he cocked the trigger. "Let this be a lesson to you," he told his son.

Although his body was trembling with fear, Blair forced his eyelids open and looking up, seditiously staring Santiago in the eyes. He saw Thomas blink and knew with certainty that the end had come.

Oblivious to everything but the two black orbs returning his gaze, Blair failed to hear the arrival of the police. It wasn't until Jim's familiar bellow of "CASCADE P.D., DROP YOUR WEAPONS," cut through the fog of fear shrouding his mind, that Blair allowed himself to hope for anything other than a quick death.

A mercuric glance around him revealed that, caught unaware, all of the gang members had opted to peacefully surrender. All that is except Santiago. Clutching Miguel tightly to his chest, Thomas now had the muzzle of his gun pointed at his own son. "Stay back or I'll blow his head off," he shouted at the officers.

Not wanting to risk injury to the child the police immediately complied.

In his peripheral vision, Blair could see Ellison hovering anxiously by, poised to strike. Gauging the distance, he knew Jim would never make it in time.

"Thomas, please," Maria begged from her position on the floor beside Sandburg. It was all the diversion he needed.

Without warning, Blair surged upwards and grabbing the gun, forcing it away from Miguel's head. Both men were impeded in their movements. Santiago by the hold he had on his son, Sandburg by his injuries and bound hands.

However, Blair's attack provided enough of a diversion to allow the cops to move in. Within moments Santiago was disarmed and in cuffs. And Miguel was returned to a very grateful and relived Maria.

Blair stood there in stunned disbelief. He had been certain that he was going to die and now... now it was all over and the shock was just beginning to set in.

"Sandburg?"

Vaguely he heard his name being called and looked up into the worried face of his roommate. Blair summoned a wan smile. "Hey Jim, nice timing," he stammered. Silently cursing himself for letting down his guard and allowing the fear to show.

Realizing just how close it had been, Ellison swallowed past the lump of emotion choking him. Afraid that he wasn't going to make it in time, Jim wondered how he could possibly explain to Blair just how frightened he had been, and how proud he was of Sandburg for risking his life for the sake of the child. He couldn't. At least not yet. Right now it was too close, too raw. There would be time enough for that later, when the emotions overwhelming him subsided and allowed him to speak of such things. Right now his partner needed medical attention. So instead of saying all the things he wanted to, but couldn't, Jim said, "What say we get you out of here?"

Unable to trust his own voice not to further betray him, Blair merely nodded wearily.

So slipping one arm around his friend's shoulder for support, Ellison led him from the building.

As Ellison guided Sandburg to the waiting paramedics, Banks supervised the mop up. The gang members were taken into custody and read their rights. Raul Santiago, who somehow still clung to life, was swiftly loaded into an ambulance and was on his way to the hospital. Simon had dispatched a unit to take Maria Lopez and her son there as well. Hector Morales' body had been recovered and placed in the coroner's wagon. Banks shook his head in amazement. Only one dead. It could have been so much worse. It should have been. Yet only time and witness testimony would reveal the true story of the day's events.

Simon's traversing glance at last fell on Ellison, anxiously hovering by his partner's side as the paramedics tended to Blair's injuries. Banks shuddered to think of just how close they had all come to losing Sandburg. Suddenly needing reassurances that the younger man's injuries were not severe, Simon made his way towards the ambulance.

With a frown of concern, Jim studied his silent partner. Sandburg had roused himself long enough to inquire after the children at the day care center. But once assured that they were unharmed, Blair had lapsed into a reflective silence. It was obvious that Sandburg was still in shock, but Jim suspected that something else was responsible for his friend's reticence.

"Well, that's about all we can do for you here," Jack Sorenson said as he placed a butterfly bandage over the cut on Blair's cheek.

"How's he doing?" Jim asked as the paramedic began stowing his gear.

Pausing in his task, Jack gave him a rundown. "There's a small laceration at the base of his skull which appears to have resulted in a mild concussion. He's also got bruised kidneys. So if any blood turns up in his urine, get him to the hospital right away."

Ellison nodded, indicating that he would.

"There may be some slight scaring on his wrists, but the cut on his cheek should heal up without leaving any visible scar. The remaining cuts, bruises and abrasions should heal up well enough. All in all, I'd say he's very lucky. But he is going to need to get a lot of rest over the next few days."

"I'll make sure that he does," Ellison assured the paramedic. Sorenson turned to Sandburg, determined to try one last time. "You sure I can't convince you to go to the hospital and let them check you out?"

"No. No, I'm fine," Blair replied as he turned haunted eyes towards the paramedic. "Thanks Jack," he added, pain and exhaustion underlying his words, as he pushed himself up from the rear end of the ambulance and into a standing position.

Ellison's hand shot out to steady Blair as he swayed slightly. "You sure you're okay Chief?"

Blair nodded. "Nothing a hot soak, some good food and a week's worth of sleep won't cure."

"Sounds like a plan Sandburg," Banks said, joining them. He turned to Ellison. "Jim, why don't you take the kid home. The paperwork can wait until morning."

"Thank you sir," Ellison replied. "Come on," he told Blair, "let's get you home before he changes his mind." Then with a nod towards his captain, Jim laid a hand on Sandburg's back and slowly ushered him towards the truck.

Halfway there they met up with Santiago as he was being loaded into a police cruiser.

"I won't forget this pendejo!" he shouted furiously at Blair. "I will get out and when I do, you're dead. You hear me, DEAD!"

Face screwed up in a mask of anger, Ellison started towards Santiago, only to be brought up short as Blair tugged at the back of his shirt and said softly, "Let it go Jim."

Not wanting to further upset his guide, Jim struggled to suppress the rage overwhelming him. Instead he had to content himself with sending Santiago a silent message. One which clearly stated, "Come anywhere near Sandburg again and I'll kill you." Apparently the message was received for Jim had the satisfaction of seeing Santiago blanch before being shoved into the rear seat of the car. He felt another tug on the back of his shirt, reminding him of Sandburg's presence.

"Jim, can we go home now?"

Instantly contrite, Ellison turned back towards his friend. "Sure buddy, let's go."

After seeing Sandburg comfortably settled in the truck, Jim climbed in on the driver's side.

"I don't get it," Blair said, wearily leaning his head against the back of the seat.

Ellison's eyebrow rose in question. "What don't you get Chief?"

"All of it," Blair replied with confusion. "I mean, I don't understand how Santiago could turn on his own brother like that. And Hector man, Hector saved my life at the cost of his own." Blair shook his head, trying in vain to dislodge the image of Morales' dead visage. "I always thought gangs were a sort of family by necessity, you know. And that they would be willing to do anything to remain a part of the family. But they all turned on what was essentially the father figure. Why would they do that?"

Ellison shrugged. "I guess they finally figured out that price of belonging was just too high."

Blair's brow wrinkled in bewilderment. "Price?"

"Their souls, Chief."

"Guess I'll have to reevaluate my thoughts on the gang mentality," Blair said thoughtfully.

"Maybe we all should," Jim replied.

Then turning the key in the ignition, Ellison headed the truck towards home.