And in the beginning...

The Tricks of the Trade

by Brenda Bailey

Blair stumbled as he was pushed into the dark room. With his hands securely bound behind him, he had no way to catch himself and he went to the floor, landing hard on his right shoulder. His landing stirred up a cloud of dust from the filthy floor and he couldn't help coughing as the dust filled his lungs. Desperately he tried to raise himself off the floor so he could at least draw a relatively clear breath.

The giant of a man that had pushed him laughed at his predicament. "What's the matter? Dissatisfied with the arrangements?"

Choking back another cough, Blair leaned back against the wall he had found and tried to control his breathing. "Yeah. (cough) And you're not (cough) going to get my recommendation (cough) for the Good Housekeeping (cough) Seal of Approval either."

"You're funny. It's a shame I can't stay and keep you company, but I've got to get back to work." He stepped forward and before Blair knew what was happening, his ankles had been grabbed and tucked under the big man's arm. Blair bucked and squirmed with all the energy of having your fate in someone else's hands brings, but to no avail. "Oh, you're a slippery one aren't you?" Whipping out a roll of duct tape, the human derrick made several quick, professional moves. "There, all nice and neat." He tossed Blair back to the floor, hands and feet wrapped together behind him, like a convenient carrying handle. "Time to go fishing again, just in case this little fish wasn't all alone." He chuckled and headed to the door. "Don't worry little fish, I'm gonna catch you some company."

The echoes of the heavy door slamming shut reverberated in Blair's head, giving him a headache in addition to the cough that started up again. This is *so* not what I'd like to be doing right now. He frantically pulled and twisted on the ropes that bound his wrists, but all he had accomplished was to pull the rope even tighter. He inch wormed back to the wall, holding his head as high as possible off the dusty, dirty floor and trying to breathe as shallowly as possible amid the clouds of dust he was stirring up. Using the wall for balance, he managed to shift around until he was kneeling on his knees with his face the maximum distance from the floor. I wonder if this is a normal situation when you hang around a cop?

The evening hadn't started off bad at all. An artifact he had been waiting for from Brazil had finally arrived and Customs was holding it down at the docks. He had offhandedly mentioned it to Jim over a pizza they had shared after the testing session. Jim had commented that it wasn't the best part of town and offered to drive him down there. The whole trip, down and back, shouldn't have taken more than forty minutes. The first part, picking up the artifact, had gone without a hitch. They had managed to make it there before Customs had closed for the day and for a change, there was no ocean of red tape to swim through. Artifact in hand, they had been on the way back when Jim had noticed a flashlight dancing around in one of the closed down warehouses that littered the docks. The detective had parked the truck on the side of the building in the shadows.

"I'll be back in a minute. I just want to take a quick look and see what's going on." Jim slipped out of the truck and was gone before Blair even had a chance to reply.

"Oh man, this would be a great opportunity to field test your senses." Blair quietly got out of the truck to see if could convince Jim to do a little fieldwork. "Of course, first I'll have to figure out where he went." He crept quietly down the side of the warehouse toward the corner. He never heard the stealthy shape that came up behind him and wrapped an arm around his throat. The arm lifted him off the ground and within seconds he knew no more.

Nah, things hadn't started off badly at all, but they could certainly use improving now! And where the hell was Ellison? Surely he'd noticed that he was missing by now. But what if the Neanderthal that had tied him up so neatly had gone after Jim too? Visions of two prehistoric cavemen locked in deadly battle filled his head. I didn't really mean anything *bad* by that " throwback to a pre-civilized breed of man" thing. So what if the guy had six inches and a hundred and twenty pounds on Jim? His money was still on Jim. Genetics, background, training, and don’t forget the gun that Jim carried. No way could this guy take Jim. But what if this guy just shoots Jim from ambush? He racked his brain tying to remember if he had seen a gun when being shoved into the room. Even if you didn't see one, that doesn't mean he doesn't have one. Or what if there are more of them? What if they all gang up on Jim at once? Or what if Jim zones out? Suddenly desperate to know what was going on, he humped his way over to the door to listen at the crack. Trying to hear anything over his own harsh panting was difficult and he concentrated on controlling his breathing by taking deep breaths. After a few minutes, he could faintly hear the sound of voices.

"We need to get out of here. There might be more snoops around." A whiney high-pitched voice complained.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist. Tiny is checking things out. If anybody else is out there he'll find them and bring 'em in." The second voice was more assured.

It figures the Neanderthal would have a name like 'Tiny'. And it also means that it's three against one, well, make that two and a half, the whiner didn't sound like he could take on a pissed off squirrel.

"This setup is making me nervous. Drug dealers get to do their business on a public corner, how come we have to meet in a dirty old warehouse at night anyway? And I'm hungry, how much longer?" Whiney had switched to petulant.

"Drug dealers can put their stuff in a baggie and we can't, that's why we're here. Now shut-up with the complaints and get your butt over here."

Tiny, Whiney and Bossy. Great. Well, at least Jim's still free.

Blair became aware of the heavy sound of footsteps approaching just in time to scoot back from the door before it banged open.

"I got some company for you little fish. I caught a big one!" Tiny unceremoniously dumped Jim's unconscious body onto the floor. Grabbing Jim's handcuffs, he quickly secured the detective's arms around a drainage pipe that reached from floor to ceiling. "Maybe now that I've got a big fish, I'll throw the little fish back." He appeared to be contemplating the thought before announcing, "Nah, I'll keep both my fishes." Laughing, he backed out of the room, securing it behind him.

"Jim! Jim, man are you all right?" Blair started to hump his way over to the still form.

The formerly limp body straightened up. "What are you doing here?" The irritated sound of Jim's voice stopped Blair in mid-hump.

"What do you mean, What am *I* doing here? What does it look like I'm doing, having a tea party? These guys...well at least one of these guys, the big one, picked me up and dumped me here. What are *you* doing here?" There, first rule of avoidance: answer a question with a question.

"I'm here to make sure nothing happens to you, that's what. It's generally bad form if civilians get injured in a bust, even if said civilians are where they aren't supposed to be." Jim explained patiently like you would to a recalcitrant child.

"A bust? What bust? You didn't say anything about this being a bust. What are they getting busted for?" Blair felt like a student unprepared for a pop quiz. "And this is your idea of making sure nothing happens to me, getting handcuffed to... a drain?" It might be bad form to criticize a potential rescuer, but Jim's attitude was a bit too self-assured .

Jim did a few twists with his body instead of answering and Blair wondered if he had landed on his head when Tiny had dropped him. Jim shifted and brought his hand in front of him, one cuff dangling from his wrist. "You were saying?"

"How did you do that?" The astonishment and wonder was obvious in Blair's voice.

Jim unlocked the other cuff and slipped the restraints into his pocket before crossing to where Blair knelt. "Any cop worth his salt carries a handcuff key somewhere on him, Sandburg. It only makes sense that if you're going to carry around ready made restraints, to have a key concealed somewhere too." Jim quickly untied the rope from his wrists and proceeded to tackle the tape. "The quickest way to find you was to have them take me to you. I didn't have time to come up with much of a plan." He jerked the last of the tape free from Blair's feet.

He calls that a plan? "Now what? How are you going to take care of all of them?" Blair rubbed his abused wrists, restoring the circulation that had been cut off.

Jim settled on the floor and leaned against the wall. "I'm here to keep you out of trouble." He glanced at his watch. "In about five minutes, back up will be here and your friends will be going to jail. I called Simon and told him what was going on."

"What were they involved in? Smuggling?" Jim shook his head. "Gun-running?" Another negative shake. "Drugs?"

"Nope."

Exasperated, Blair tried sarcasm. "Illegal fishing?"

Jim's eyebrows rose at that one before he smiled. "Hot water heaters."

Completely nonplused at the answer, he could only dumbly repeat the words. "Hot water heaters?"

"Yeah, these guys have been ripping them off from new construction and then selling them as damaged freight. It's a nice little gimmick." Jim watched Blair's face as the words sank in.

"They're selling 'hot' hot water heaters?" The expression on Blair's face showed his disbelief.

Jim nodded. "That's about it." Jim checked his watch and stood up. "Time's up. Let's go." He moved silently to the door.

"Cool man, what's the plan?" Blair whispered conspiratorially as he joined Jim at the door.

"The *plan* Sandburg, is to keep you out of trouble. Then maybe we can arrest these guys with a minimum of problems." Jim cautiously opened the door and looked outside.

"Man, why do you always insist on doing things the hard way? Use your senses, locate the bad guys."

"Now's not the time, Chief. I don't have time for this."

"Jim, you've got to start using your senses in the field to get a handle on them. If you don't practice, you're never going to be able to control them. And that's what you want isn't it, control?"

Jim frowned at Blair, but the earnest expression didn't falter. "Okay. What do I do?"

"Listen. Use your hearing to pinpoint the bad guys location."

Jim shut his eyes and concentrated, following the softly spoken instructions. "Two of them are at the back of the warehouse, moving stuff around. I can't hear the other one."

"Stretch out your hearing, he has to be around here."

"Got him. He's outside the building."

Blair nodded his head in encouragement. "Now see if they have guns."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that? I can't even see them."

"Jim, you know the distinctive odors associated with guns. You've been around them enough. Smell, man. Use your nose."

Jim looked doubtfully at his companion, but attempted it nonetheless. "I'm not picking up anything. No...wait a minute, the guy outside, he's the only one with a gun." He couldn't stop the small smile that sneaked on his face.

"See man, it's all a matter of getting used to using what you've got. This is great."

"Well...we'll see." He made one last sweep with his hearing to make sure the way was clear. "Come on Sandburg, let's go."

Blair halted him with a hand on his arm. "You mean you aren't going to take those guys out?" He could almost see the wheels turning in Jim's head. "Come on, you already said they weren't armed and there's two of them and two of us." He ignored the frankly skeptical look on Jim's face. "You said I was your partner, remember, back at the bridge?"

Jim glared, but Blair seemed immune to intimidation. "Fine. But you do what I say and stay behind me, got it?"

"Sure, sure, whatever you say." Why do I get the feeling I'm going to be hearing those words again?

Together the two of them headed toward the back of the warehouse. As they got closer, Blair could hear the two voices raised in argument.

"There are cops out there! We're gonna get busted! What do we do now?" Whiney was in full whine.

"How should I know? Shut up! I can't think with you jabbering at me all the time. Let me think."

Jim turned and whispered, "I'm going after the thinker. You stay here and keep out of trouble." Without waiting for a reply, he moved off.

Blair mimicked Jim's words behind his back, but stayed in place watching the action.

Silently, Jim came up behind his target.

"Freeze, Cascade P.D. Put your hands above you and don't move."

The response to the command was everything Blair could have hoped for. Whiney dropped to his knees and started babbling about not being shot. Bossy leaned against the wall, grumbling about having to work with losers, even if they were a member of the family. The whole thing was terribly anti-climatic. Within minutes, Jim had both handcuffed to a metal support beam.

"What about Tiny?" Blair came out of the shadows and joined Jim.

"Who?"

"My 'fishing' friend?"

Jim smiled. "Oh, him. Our friends outside have him in custody."

"Great!" Blair sighed. "I guess this means we're going to get stuck at the station for hours doing paperwork, right?"

Taking pity on the grad student, Jim let him off the hook. "Tell you what, I'll drop you off at your place and get a statement from you tomorrow. That way you'll have time to come up with a story to convince Simon to let you on as an observer."

"Hey, no problem man. Creative thinking is my forte." Blair gave him a big grin.

"Just don't get too creative, we want him to buy it, not smell it."

Blair groaned. "Not funny, man, not funny."

~fin~