TAPS

"Greater love hath no man but that he lay down his life for another," Reverend Jasper Collins solemnly intoned.

Detective Blair Sandburg wearily closed his eyes.  'Just a little longer.  Then I can just shut down.'  He felt his body sway slightly.  A pat on his shoulder caused him to open his eyes.  He turned his head briefly and sadly smiled at Joel Taggart who stood just slightly behind him.

"Although police officers know their lives are on the line each and every day, when that loss comes to one, it comes to all."

'Yeah, right, Reverend.'  Blair cynically remembered the headlines and news broadcasts about 'trigger-happy cops'.  One broadcaster had even suggested that the 'tragic death of this officer should prompt the Police Department to seriously modify their response options'.  The same reporter didn't mention the two men who had threatened to blow themselves and innocent bystanders into tiny little pieces.  That part of the story didn't make good copy.

Blair took a deep breath, held it, then slowly released it.  'Naomi would be seriously concerned about my Karma if she could hear my thoughts right now.'

He glanced through his eyelashes at the coffin surrounded by an honor guard of Cascade police officers.  The bright sunlight glittered off the brass handles.  The few birds that flew overhead barely made a noise to interrupt the solemn tone of the minister.

'God, this hurts too much.  How can I want it over but not want it over?  Over means he's gone, but this hurts too much!'

If Blair hated anything about being a cop, it was wearing his dress uniform.  No matter the occasion, wearing it made him thoroughly uncomfortable to the point of sweating.  Plus, he could always hear Naomi's voice almost whining, "But, Sweetie…a UNIFORM?"

But this was how he could honor his fallen friend…and honor him he would.

'I can't cry now.  Not here.  Not now.'  Blair had refused to cry over the past four days.

Suddenly, Blair raised his head and stared at the brightly polished coffin in shock.  'Oh, my God!  It's been four days!  Four whole days!  How could I have let that much time just slip past me!  Four days…'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

Blair could see the police cars, fire engines, and ambulances from two blocks away.  "Man, I hope nothing else happens for a while.  It looks like everybody's here."

Jim Ellison grimly nodded.  He parked his treasured Ford truck and turned off the engine.  "This could get really nasty."  He glanced at his newly-sworn-in partner with silent apology.

Blair understood both the look and the reason for it.  Jim was still feeling a little guilty about the evens leading up to Blair becoming a cop.  Blair smiled and reached behind the seat for their Kevlar vests.  "Guess we'll just have to make sure it doesn't get nasty."

Jim grunted and accepted his vest.

Putting their vests on as they trotted towards the command post, both men eyed the nearby building under siege.

Jim spotted Captain Simon Banks and headed in his direction.  As he approached, he automatically nodded at Henri Brown and Brian Rafe who were listening to Simon's conversation with the SWAT Commander, Evan Staton.  The SWAT Commander was nodding in agreement with whatever Simon was saying.  Then he briskly walked back to his men.

Simon nodded in acknowledgement of Blair's quiet greeting.  "OK, gentlemen.  Here's what we have.  Mr. Max Oronez and his brother Jesus have semi-automatic weapons and dynamite."

"Where did they get the dynamite?" Henri asked.

"Jesus Oronez works on the construction site over on Daulton Plaza," Simon answered.  "The foreman's checking to see how much is missing."

Jim turned to his left and saw Joel Taggart heading off down the street with members of the bomb squad.  "Joel's working with them?"

Simon nodded.  "They could use him more to defuse the bombs than we can use him with us."  He nodded towards the building.  "The negotiator is talking with Max Oronez.  Apparently he came to this country on a visa.  He became engaged to a young lady who has since broken off the engagement.  His visa has expired, and apparently Mr. Oronez hasn't received much help from the local INS office."

"Weren't they going to renew his visa?" Blair asked.

Simon shook his head.  "It seems Oronez has several drunk and disorderly citations.  He's never held a job since entering the country."  He shrugged.  "His brother, though, seems to be clean."

"Is the building evacuated?" Jim asked, staring at the four-story building.

"No."

They all stared at Simon, wary of the tone in his voice.

"Everyone's out of the INS office except two people.  The Oronez brothers kept them as hostages."  Simon consulted his notes.  "Douglas Wheeler, age 60.  He has a history of heart problems and has complained of chest pains since the negotiator started talking with them.  Mandy Carter, age 23."  He snapped the notebook shut.  "She's 7 months pregnant."

"Dear God," Rafe muttered, running a hand through his dark hair.

"There's also a daycare on the second floor," Simon grunted.  "When they tried to bring the children down, the Oronez brothers made them go back upstairs.  There are 11 children and 4 adults trapped up there.  The top two floors are empty due to renovations."

"What are their demands?" Jim asked.

"No charges against them for anything.  Max gets his visa renewed.  Max gets a job paying at least $50,000 a year.  Oh, and Max gets his girlfriend back."

"He's joking, right?" Blair demanded.

Simon grabbed his cell phone as it rang.  "Banks.  Yeah, Joel.  What?!  Are they sure?  They're positive?"  He relaxed and rubbed his forehead.  "Thanks.  Good work."  Snapping the phone shut, he motioned for the SWAT Commander to join them.

"That was Joel.  Traffic found Jesus Oronez's car parked four blocks from here."  Simon nodded to Staton as he joined them.   "They found 15 sticks of dynamite wrapped in a waterproof bag buried in an iced cooler in the trunk."

Staton smiled.  "We just got a call from the foreman at Daulton Plaza.  They're missing 15 sticks of dynamite."

"Why steal it if they weren't going to use it?" Rafe questioned.

"Maybe Jesus didn’t mind getting shot but he wasn't going to get blown up," Jim shrugged.

"At least we don't have to worry about that."  Staton unrolled a floor plan of the building and spread it on the hood of a nearby car.

Blair edged Jim away from the ground surrounding the car.  "Can you see them?"

Jim took a deep breath and stared across the street.  Feeling Blair's hand on his arm, he relaxed and narrowed his eyesight.  He easily saw both men, semi-automatic rifles cradled in their arms.  Piggybacking his hearing, he heard both men agitatedly shouting at each other.  Seconds later he shook his head and looked away.

"My Spanish isn't what it should be, but they're arguing about being hungry."  Jim looked disgusted.  "They're threatening little kids, and they're worried about missing lunch!"

"Easy…easy…"  Blair soothingly rubbed the Sentinel's arm.

"Ellison!"

Jim automatically stiffened, then joined the others.  Troubled, Blair followed close behind.

"Simon tells me you're a former Ranger," Staton began.  "We could use you on the assault team.  We're short-handed again."  He pushed the blueprint across the hood of the car towards Jim.  "Damn budget cuts," he angrily muttered.

Jim silently nodded in agreement and began studying the blueprint.

"Knowing they don't have explosives makes it easier."  Staton pointed to the plans.  "You'll go in through the roof access door and down the stairs.  Two men will stay with the daycare to prevent one of the Oronez brothers from getting up there to take any more hostages.  The others will go to the main floor."  He sighed.  "I wish we had a good visual on their exact location.  But that smoked glass isn't helping."

Jim touched the map in two places.  "One here and one here."  He cleared his throat.  "That would be the logical places.  They could watch the front door, the stairs, and both elevators from those locations."

Staton nodded.  "Makes sense."

Jim ignored the gentle kick Blair gave his left leg.

Staton rolled up the map.  "Ellison, your team goes in three minutes."

"Why so soon?" Blair asked, even as the others readied their weapons.

Staton briefly smiled.  "Our boys in there ordered lunch.  They want authentic Mexican tamales and enchiladas.  None of that bastardized American stuff.  It should be here within fifteen minutes.  I want everyone in position to go when lunch is served."  He nodded at Simon and walked away.

"Jim…"

"No."

"But…"

"No."

"Now wait a minute!  I'm your…"

"Sandburg!"

Both men looked at their Captain. 

"Jim's right.  This is an assault team, and you're not qualified," Simon scowled.  "Or do I need to remind you of your dismal scores on the firing range?"

Blair disgustedly blew air from his lungs.  "No, sir," he finally answered.  He started to follow Jim.

"Sandburg!"

"I'll be right back," Blair assured him.

Jim halted close to the staging area.  The assault team would casually leave the area and rendezvous behind the building under siege.  The two men stared at each other for a few seconds.

Jim silently double-checked the straps on Blair's Kevlar vest, making sure his partner was protected as much as possible.  Then he lightly slapped Blair's cheeks.

Blair swallowed.  "No heroics, okay?"

Jim gave him an innocent look before walking away. 

Blair shook his head.  Knowing Jim was listening, he muttered, "And, for God's sake, Ellison, don't drop your gun."

Jim looked over his shoulder with a rueful grin.  "See you when it's over, Chief."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'See you when it's over, Chief.'

Blair shuddered as the minister concluded his final prayer.  'That's the last thing Jim said…before all hell broke loose.'

There had been too many funerals in the last four days.  Douglas Wheeler had suffered a massive heart attack just before the assault team had entered the building.  Only Mandy Carter's statement has prevented the news media from accusing the Cascade PD of scaring the man to death.

Mandy Carter had survived the experience. The same couldn't be said for her premature son, James Brett Carter.  He had been buried two days earlier, named for his father and the police officer who had tried to rescue him.

The adults and children in the second-floor daycare center had not been injured.  However, it was no surprise to learn all the children were exhibiting signs of trauma.

Jesus Oronez had been shot twice, once in the chest and once in the head.  Before being taken down, he'd gotten off several shots at the police officers.  He had been buried two days earlier just as the accusations of police bungling were dying down in the face of the facts.

Max Oronez had also opened fire when seeing the police officers.  He'd managed to empty half his clip before being shot.  The resulting ricocheting bullets had injured several officers.

The dedicated surgeons at Cascade General Hospital labored just as hard to save Max's life as their fellow surgeons labored to save the life of a critically injured police officer.  Max was saved.  The police officer died early the next morning from a gunshot wound to the head.

Blair flinched at the sound of gunshots, signaling a 21-gun salute.  He managed to control his flinches during the second and third volley.  As the lone trumpeter raised his instrument, Blair forced his eyes shut.

'I will not cry.  Not here.  I will not cry!'  He shook from the tension of not breaking down when hearing the heart-rendering notes of 'TAPS'.  'It was different with Pendergast.  I didn't know him!  But this…I want to leave…I want to go away where it won't hurt so bad…'

"Come on, Blair."

Blair barely registered Joel's soft voice or the gentle nudging that got him walking to the waiting vehicles.  He stumbled slightly as he looked over his shoulder once again at the coffin.

"Just a little further, Blair."

Blair numbly followed, sighing in relief when he sat in the front seat and heard the door close.  At least he had some privacy now.  He leaned his head back on the headrest and turned to look at the window.  As he was driven away, he turned his head to keep the coffin in sight as long as possible.

Then Blair closed his eyes.  He knew he was being driving back to the loft and wanted to hold on until he got home before breaking down.  He just wanted to be in the privacy of his own room before going to pieces.

"Blair.  We're here."

'I'm not going to make it upstairs.'  Blair's left hand flew out and hit the chest of the man next to him, pinning him to the seat more by surprise than actual strength.

Startled, Jim looked at his partner.

"Don't you ever to that to me, Jim."  Even though Blair's eyes were squeezed shut, tears were starting to run down his cheeks.  The hand on Jim's chest turned into a fist as Blair grabbed the material of Jim's dress uniform.

'Thank God.'  Ever since the siege, Blair had been a walking open wound.  And that wound had started to fester with Blair's refusal to give in to his nervous emotions.  He hadn't even allowed his lover to hold him at night.  And Jim knew seeing the bandage on his forehead covering the graze of a bullet from Max Oronez's gun hadn't helped.

"Before…I wasn't a cop before…almost like it wasn't real…we got hurt but…"  Blair slammed the dashboard of the truck with his right hand.  "I couldn't do anything…saw you lying on the steps…bloodied head…Sheridan was only 23…head blown open…"

Blair suddenly gasped, his eyes flying open as he remembered running through the carnage of broken glass, blood, and smoke…remembered seeing Jim lying unconscious, bleeding from a head wound…remembered seeing Brett Sheridan lying next to Jim with a huge gaping hole in the side of his head.

He twisted, grabbing the front of Jim's uniform with both fists.  "Damn you, James Ellison!  Don't you ever do that to me!  Don't you ever make me go through that for you!"

Slowly, Jim covered Blair's hands with his.  "I know, Chief."

"Do you?!" Blair screamed.  "Do you understand?!  I never ever want to stand next to your coffin when they shoot off guns and play taps!  NEVER!"  Sobbing, he rested his forehead against Jim's solid chest.  "Never…never…never…promise…you gotta promise me…"

Jim wrapped his arms around his shaking partner.  He remembered the first time he'd encountered mass senseless violence and death.  And he knew he couldn't promise the one thing Blair was begging him to swear.  So he made the only promise he could.

Gently spreading tiny kisses across Blair's temple, he squeezed his lover against him.  "I'll do the best I can, Blair," Jim whispered.  "I'll do the best I can."

November 2002

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