I like to thank Becky for her transcripts.

Spoilers for Blind Man's Bluff and Secret

This story is a sequel to: See No Evil

Jim took down the wok, put the rice and the water in the rice cooker, and got the steak and vegetables from the fridge. After he turned on the rice cooker, he read the plastic labels on the spices.

"Do you need help?" asked Blair.

"No, you sit down and write your paper." Jim got the salt, pepper, and five spice powder. He took the soy sauce from the fridge. That was easy to spot because it was a unique shaped bottle with a long curved neck. While heating the oil, he cut the onions and peppers. He could do this.

"You're spoiling me," said Blair.

"Let me do for you. You make me breakfast every morning." After the peppers and onions were cooking, he cut the steak into bite size pieces. "I turned on the rice before I heated the oil." After he added the steak to the vegetables, he measured the spices by pouring them into his hand first. Then he added the soy sauce and fresh garlic.

He set the timer although with beef he could smell if it was done. Mary had told the class you must set the timer with chicken or pork. Raw chicken and pork could make you seriously ill. He needed to set patterns in his life. He was going to be visually impaired for the rest of his life. Nerve damage didn't replace itself. He stirred the food until the bell rang then turned off the stove and put it on plates.

Jim placed Blair's plate on the kitchen table. "What do you think?"

Blair asked, "Where's the rice?"

"Let me get my plate on the table. I'll serve the rice." Jim put his plate on the table then the two rice bowls and two bottles of beer. Finally, he sat down to eat. He used his sense of touch to get rice on his chopsticks. After he ate some rice, he asked, "So will you survive?"

"Not bad." Blair drank some beer.

"The trick is organization." Jim ate his pepper steak.

"Mr. Anal Retentive." Blair insisted on doing the dishes after the meal. "Organization has never been a problem for you. I'll the one who needs to get organized."

"You were right for me to wait instead of breaking bad habits."

"I did have a minor in psychology."

Jim went upstairs and undressed for bed, not that he was interested in sleeping. Jim became aroused just thinking about Blair's lithe body on top of his. Finally, he heard no more movement in the kitchen and Blair moving to the stairs. "Baby," Jim said, as Blair reached the top of the stairs. "Come join me."

"I'm sorry that I pushed you on those women."

"I understand why you did." Jim sat up in the bed and listened to Blair undress. "I can help you with that."

"I don't want it to take all night."

"But it is too nice a job to rush." Jim moved over to Blair as he heard Blair unbutton his shirt and planted a kiss on Blair's neck. Jim put his hand on Blair's shirt. "Allow me." The shirt and tee shirt ended up on the floor in a few moments as Jim continued to cover his love with kisses.

"Join me on the bed," the younger man said.

"Baby." Jim touched Blair's chin and turned his head up before kissing him. Jim put one hand in the unruly curls as he deepened the kiss, breaking the kiss when they were both breathless.

"I should have let you kiss me sooner." Blair sat on the edge of the large bed.

"You shouldn't have pushed me away on the roof."

"Your wife was standing right there."

"Ex-wife. Let's not talk about her; it ruins the mood."

Blair put his hand on Jim's hard chest and started to nipple on his neck. "We don't have to talk at all," he whispered before finding better things to do with his mouth.

Early in the morning, Jim walked down the stairs and listened the news on TV. Duffle bags and fishing equipment were piled in the room. They had packed last night for the fishing trip.

The reporter on the television said, "The mystery continues regarding the disappearance of drug enforcement agent Ben Chavez. Last week, the D.E.A. revealed that Chavez vanished after his identity as a deep cover agent inside the Cali drug cartel was discovered. The cartel ordered Chavez's death. Although a rumor persists that the agent may have fled to San Jose, Costa Rica, most sources believe the D.E.A.'s move to crack this vicious cartel has met a tragic end. And now with the sports, Tony."

While Blair walked out of his room with a long heavy stick of some kind, Jim turned off the TV. Jim wondered what weird thing Blair was bringing fishing. "And, uh, what, pray tell, is that thing?"

"This is a Cree Indian Fishing spear," Blair explained. "I thought I'd give it a shot."

Jim said, "Oh, really? Well, you'll be doing it downstream from me, Hiawatha. Because I hate the sound of trout laughing."

"That's funny. You know, Jim, all this modern gear -- it's great but sometimes traditional methods are just as effective and a little more satisfying."

"Good. Well, you won't mind if I take the raft while you chip yourself out a log for a dugout, huh?" Jim picked up his duffle bag and winced. "Oh, man." Jim held his shoulder and rotated it a little.

Blair put a hand on him. "You all right?"

"Hey, give me a hand with this thing, would you?" After Blair helped him with the duffle bag, Jim said, "I hurt my shoulder working out. It just hasn't gone away. I mean, I've tried liniments and painkillers, muscle relaxers. Man, it's just persisting. It all started when my senses started to go crazy."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think it was any big thing."

"This is exactly the kind of stuff that I need to know. I mean, if pain relievers don't work, what about novocaine at the dentist? Or, for crying out loud, you're having surgery -- what about anesthetics?" Blair was playing mother hen, again.

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

"No, I don't think I'm overreacting. We've got to do some research. We to need to prepare for stuff like this."

Jim rubbed his shoulder some more. "If you want to do pain research, you experiment on yourself, all right?"

The phone rang and Jim answered it. "Ellison."

"Jim, it's Sam. Sam Holland."

"Sam?" Jim hadn't heard from Sam in years.

"I'm probably the last guy in the world you want to hear from in the middle of the night, but we need to talk."

"Where are you calling from, Sam, Florida?"

"Cascade. Listen, there's a parking garage on 8th and Waterman. Meet me there in 20 minutes on the fifth level."

"Sam, what's this about?"

"It's about the colonel." Why would Sam call him late at night about events that took place over seven years ago? Whatever it was it sounded important.

"All right. I'll be there but, Sam, why did you come all the way out?"

"We need to do this in person."

"I'm on my way." Jim hung up the phone. 20 minutes that didn't give him time to get a cab and he didn't want Sandburg getting messed up with covert army stuff. "Blair, 8th and Waterman."

Blair got the keys while Jim got his jacket and cane.

"You set?" Jim asked as he opened the front door.

"Let's go." Blair fumbled with his jacket and the car keys.

At the parking garage, Blair parked the Ford Expedition next to open parked car. Jim then got out of the passenger seat.

"Sam!" Jim yelled in the direction the other person in the garage. Sam's heartbeat was racing.

Holland stood up from where he was hiding next to the car and walked around to Jim. His footstep and body movements echoed in the nearly empty parking garage.

Jim said, "Hey, buddy. What sort of trouble you in?"

"The kind with no bottom," replied Sam.

"How's the colonel involved in all this?" Jim asked.

"I never meant to get in so deep with him."

"I told you a while back he's trouble."

"I didn't listen." Sam's pulse returned to a normal level of heightened alertness. "I wish to God I had. Look, I know you're with the police now. I figured maybe you could help."

"I'm not a cop anymore, but I know people. I can help, but you got to tell me what's going on here."

"Okay, but if it goes any farther than us, I'm a dead man."

Jim heard two trucks or other large vehicles entering the parking garage "Are you expecting company? I hear somebody coming."

"I don't hear anything."

Two vans roared up the ramp and came around the corner. Holland panicked and got back in his car. Jim could hear the car door slam and Blair's heartbeat from distance away; he was hiding possibly behind a cement pillar.

"Sam! Sam!" Jim yelled to the darkness. Someone shot a dart at Jim, hitting him in the neck. Jim pulled it out, and then fell to the ground unconscious. Jim woke up in basement with dripping pipes. Jim's wrists and legs were bound and his shoulder still hurt. He remembered his dials and turned down the pain. Another heartbeat with female pheromones, a woman was in his cell or a cell nearby. Her smell wasn't as strong or as attractive as Laura's, but she was definitely female. He decided not to acknowledge her until she moved or spoke.

Where was Sam? He wasn't in the next cell. Jim managed to jump or hop as his bond hands felt for a wall. Feeling a chain link fence, he hopped and wiggled as he ran his fingers along the fence.

"What are you doing?" asked the woman.

"Trying to find out where I am. Are you tied up, too?"

"You're blind."

"If I could see if you were bond, I wouldn't need to ask."

"No, I'm not. There is nowhere for me to go. How did you end up here?"

"You first." Jim didn't trust that woman.

"I'm a secretary. I was walking to my car and someone shot a dart into my neck, and I'm here."

"I was meeting my friend. I thought you were him until you opened your mouth." Why did he lie? That was Sandburg's department.

"Just you and me," said the woman. "Who's your friend?"

"An army buddy. I haven't seen him in years." Jim wasn't giving out names. Something smelled bad and it wasn't the mildew.

"I'm Tanya."

Jim found a combination lock on the chain link fence's gate. "Shh! I'm going to try to open it." Jim listened and felt for the tumblers, as he did for Brackett at the hanger door. He slowly turned the dial until the lock released.

Tanya opened the door. "How did you do that?"

"The best way to catch a thief is to learn his techniques. I used to work in burglary." Jim lied, again. He never worked in burglary. He went from being a rookie cop to Vice. "Tanya, undo my bonds."

Tanya pulled on the plastic on his wrists. "Too tight."

"Is there a window I can break?"

"There is a small light, but I can't reach it," said Tanya. "It's pretty high."

"Maybe you can get on my shoulders."

"Oh, no, wait, wait, wait, wait." Tanya undid his belt and pulled it out off its loops. "It's not what you think, Jim."

"I trust you." He didn't trust her. Something about this set-up was wrong.

Tanya used the belt to hit the glass casing on the light.

"Nice shot," Jim said as the glass rained down. He heard a door open.

"Don't take me!" yelled Tanya. "I've told you everything I know." Kicking and screaming, she was carried out of the cell by two men. As Jim was cutting the binding off his wrists with a glass shard, he followed the sound of their footfalls. Tanya stopped being carried as soon as she left the cell. They could have put a gun at her, but her heart rate said she was willing.

Now that his wrists and legs were free, he listened to every noise in the surrounding rooms. He had heard Marten fall from the chopper. He could hear if Oliver took Tanya somewhere to question her. Over the dripping water, Jim heard Tanya speak. "He's blind. Let him go. You need to focus on his boyfriend; he could have seen something."

Blair was OK for the moment.

"He doesn't know anything," Tanya continued. "He says he was meeting a friend."

"He could be lying about being blind," said another voice.

"He asked me if I was also tied. He was feeling along the fence. That isn't easy to do with his hands tied."

"Ellison was put on disability because some chemical got in his eyes," said Colonel Oliver. Jim would know that voice anywhere. "Just because he can't see well enough to do police work doesn't mean he doesn't see well enough to identify us."

A man walked into the cell with Tanya. Jim could smell a gun; cleaning fluid had a particular odor. The man carrying the gun walked around Jim. "You had Tanya take out the light to even the odds."

Jim said nothing.

"My boss looked up your records. You were blinded in a chemical accident." The man didn't listen to Oliver's advice about not giving cocky. Jim could use that to his advantage. The gunman wouldn't expect a blind man to be listening to his footsteps.

Jim needed to get close enough to kick the man's gun. Tripping him was better. When the man started to walk away, Jim tripped the man. The gun flew out of his hand and echoed on the cement as the man's head hit the ground. Following the sound of gun hitting the cement, Jim grabbed the gun.

"We're free," yelled Tanya.

"No so fast." Jim pointed the gun at Tanya. "You stopped struggling outside the door. I'm blind, not deaf."

"They had a gun at me," said Tanya.

"You were putting on a show for the blind man. Tanya, show me the way out before your friend wakes."

"How are you going to shot me? So you have a gun. Big deal."

"I heard his footfalls. I might be able to hear your footsteps. I may not hit your heart, but I could hit a shoulder or hand." Jim backed out of the room the way the man came in. His gun tracked Tanya's heartbeat.

Jim climbed the stairs to the first floor. Tanya would be telling Col. Oliver of his escape. Walking with his hand along the wall of the building, he listened for people approaching. He heard footfalls. However, he didn't smell gun-cleaning fluid or gunpowder.

"Ellison, drop the gun," said Oliver.

Jim continued to hold the gun.

"I shouldn't have underestimated you. Hand over the gun. Ellison, I'm a sharp shooter and you can't see the hand in front of your face. Give up."

Jim was about to hand over his gun when he heard sirens in the distance. All he needed to do was keep Oliver talking until company arrived. "What happened to Sam?"

"He's in another cell." Oliver's heart rate spiked for a split second. Either he was lying or nervous. Jim couldn't tell which.

"Let me go," said Jim still holding the gun. Wanting to look harmless, he leaned against the wall and held the gun close to his body.

"You could recognize my voice."

"You haven't told me your name and the police need more than a blind man's word."

"Why shouldn't I kill you? The world could survive with one less blind faggot."

"Look! I don't know who you are, and I was drugged when I was taken to this place. One dark hallway looks like another to me."

Oliver laughed. "There are lights on and the sun is shining through the windows."

"It's a dark hallway to me." Jim could see the glare from the overhead lights, but Oliver didn't need to know that. Jim, finally, heard car doors slam and the sound of people running. Rescue was on its way.

A front door, which was only inches from where he was, opened and Simon Banks yelled, "Stop Police," as the building filled with police officers.

Oliver dropped his gun. Two police officers cuffed him and read him his rights.

Jim smiled. "I always wondered why I survived the jungle, but now I know."

Banks took Jim aside. "Jim, how are you doing?"

"Good. There is a man in the basement. I tripped him and took his gun. He's bleeding. Also a woman is in the building. I don't know if she's armed." Jim gave Simon the gun.

"Brown, check the basement," yelled Simon.

When Jim went outside, Blair hugged him. "Oliver was planning on taking out Chavez. Jack Kelso is in the hospital. I was so worried."

Jim pushed Blair's arms away. "I can handle myself. Where is my cane?"

"In Simon's car. I'll get it," Blair said. Jim missed his perky cheerful voice. Jim sat down on the curb to wait for Blair to return with the cane.

After taking the cane, Jim put his hand on Blair's arm. "Where's Sam?"

"His car went over the railing about the same time you were drugged. He died. I saw the whole thing. Simon and I have been working together. You would be proud of me."

"I'm always proud of you."

"We found a map with partial address on it. Jack and I solved the case. He knew our Agent Cameron was Colonel Oliver." Blair started guiding Jim to Simon's car.

"Will Jack be OK?"

"He'll be out of the hospital in a few days."

Jim smiled. "I'm sorry but the camping trip is postponed to Spring Break."

"I'll be finished my dissertation by then. How about Sam Hughes for your pseudonym in memory of Sam Holland and Lisa Hughes?"

"I like that."

"I'll do a quick find and replace. Then I can meet with my advisor and get the ball rolling."

Endnote: Blair and Simon would get there before the plane landed because if Blair witnessed the abduction he would have a two-hour head start over the series. Also Jim doesn't give up any information to Tanya because the colonel could believe that Jim wouldn't recognize his voice in seven years. It behooves Jim to claim complete ignorance.

End Kidnapped by Athena: athena@fateordestiny.com

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