Title : Fathers and Sons
Author: YS McCool
Rating: PG-13
Date  : 15 March 1998
Series: Upgrade # 11

Disclaimer: I do not own The Sentinel characters, nor do I
make a claim on them.  Established characters are the
property of Pet Fly Productions and UPN.  Original
characters are the sole property of the author.


                          Upgrade # 11
                        Fathers and Sons
                          By YS McCool


General William Joseph Ellison stepped off the transport
ship and looked around.  Blair had said he looked like his
father, Professor Marcus Sandburg, so the man should be easy
to spot.  There he was, surrounded by six young women who
were flirting with him.  "Sandburg?"  

The man in question turned from his admirers and smiled. 
"That's me.  You must be Jim's dad.  What do you like to be
called, Joe or Joseph?"  He offered his hand.

Joe normally told people his first name was General and they
believed him.  Marcus might call him that just to annoy him. 
"Joe."  Ellison shook the smaller man's hand.

"And you must call me Mark.  Excuse us, ladies."  Marcus
gave the young women a grand bow, which set them to smiling
and tittering.

Joe shook his head.  "I hope your wife doesn't find out
about that escapade."

"Why?" Marcus asked, looking both innocent and confused.

"Those girls were young enough to be your daughters," Joe
explained.  Marcus may have looked like he was in his
thirties, but since he was Blair's father, that was clearly
impossible.

"True," Marcus agreed.  "That's why Naomi wouldn't worry. 
Now, if she caught me with a mature and *seasoned* woman..." 
He wiggled his eyebrows.

Joe could see where Blair's impish sense of humor had come
from.  In fact, he could see a lot of Blair in this man, or
this man in Blair.

They left the concourse and made their way to the nearest
train station.  Once aboard, Marcus began pointing out
various local sights.

Ellison had never been on Carmel before.  It was a beautiful
place.  "How many are you expecting at the reunion?"

"About 200, all told," Marcus answered excitedly.  "I'm glad
that you decided to join us."

"Blair begs well," Joe explained.

"He learned at his mother's knee," Mark said solemnly.

Joe could have come up with about ten things he would rather
be doing with his precious leave than going to a family
reunion where he wasn't a member of the family.  But Blair
had hinted that this was the time for Claudia's family to
see more of Jim's family.  Whispers of nuptials and
grandchildren, who would think of Joe and Grace as
strangers, followed.  What could he say to that?  Too bad
Grace was on a tour.  He could have used the backup with all
of the family geniuses running around loose.  Joe preferred
his geniuses to be locked in underground rooms, working on
his projects and suitably terrified of him.

The train wound down the mountain and across the longest
bridge that Joe had ever seen as it spanned a river.  The
views were spectacular.  These were the things you missed
when you lived on a military base.

"Beautiful," he whispered.  Joe hadn't written any poetry
since his courting days, but he could easily scribble out a
poem or two about the scenery.

"Wait until you see the falls," Mark announced.

Joe tried to categorize Blair's father.  It always helped
when meeting new people for him to place them in a category. 
He wasn't having much luck with this man.  "So, Jim tells me
that besides being a scientist, you're also an artist."

"Yes.  His and Steven's poses sold very well.  I can see
where they get their strong jaw lines from."  He looked Joe
up and down.  "You have an excellent physique, Joe.  You
should pose for me while you're here."

Joe nearly choked.  Pose?  Him?  Jim and Steven were young
and handsome, but him?  "Going through your fading geezers
phase?"

Sandburg howled.  He really had a deep and pleasant voice. 
Joe was not one for laughing in public, but something about
the man's laughter was infectious.  Ellison laughed with
him.

"And they told me that you didn't have a sense of humor." 
Marcus paused to chuckle.  "Actually, I would like to pin
all three of you down for a portrait.  That is if I can
rescue Steven from the single females.  When I left the
castle, they were applying their war paint and preparing
their campaigns."

Joe snickered at that image.  Steven had been dodging
husband hunters for the last fifteen years.  It was going to
take much more than war paint to settle his son down.  But
he would have also bet money Jim wouldn't have fallen for a
sweet-natured pediatrician.

The train turned a long curve and slowed dramatically.  "Is
there something wrong with the train?" he asked Mark, as the
other man was the closest to the panel.

"Oh, no.  The trains are programmed to slow for this
section.  People like to enjoy the view."  Sandburg got up. 
"Here, switch seats."

Joe changed seats.  The falls were the most famous site on
the planet.  They were the only quad falls known to exist in
the Human Sphere; literally four separate tiered falls
spaced within sixty kilometers.  

Dancing on the waves at the base of the lowest falls were
wave generators that powered the planet's asteroid
deflection field.  The constant motion of the water
generated a clean and endless source of power.

Mark peered out the window and pointed to two extremely
large red, black, and gold birds.  "Those are Flame Birds. 
The larger one is the female.  She will have up to eight
mates, each one watching a pair of eggs in a cliff-side nest
that she builds for them."

"Are they dangerous?" Joe asked, aghast at the sheer size of
the creatures.  He guessed that each wing was about sixty to
sixty-five feet across, and that was for the smaller male.

"More than you want to think about," Mark responded.  "Those
claws could pull the canopy off an unprotected APV, but
they'll leave the train alone because of the electrical
shield."

Once the falls could no longer be seen, the train returned
to normal speed and shot across the open plains toward the
enormous castle, which sat in the center of a large city
that was placed on the edge of an expansive fresh water
lake.

The castle had its own train stop, and there were several
people waiting for them at the platform.  One of them was
Claudia.  Joe had talked to her several times, but this was
the first time they would meet in the flesh.  The Sandburg
resemblance was strong: the curls, the hair color, the eyes,
and the full mouth.  

"Hello, General Ellison.  It's nice to meet you in person,"
the young lady said sweetly.  Joe had been instantly and
hopelessly in love with the young lady the first time she
had called him.

Joe surprised himself when he kissed Claudia's cheek.  She
was such an angel.  "It's wonderful to finally meet you in
person, my dear.  And the name is Joe."  He took her arm and
headed toward the castle.


                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Jim hated to wake Blair, but it was time to leave the ship
and make their way to the trains.  The younger man had
assisted in a long and exacting surgery on a New Haven
region RO who had been injured in the line of duty just
before they had left the conference on Proxima.  Blair had
slept the entire sixteen-hour flight to Carmel.

They were only supposed to be attending a conference there. 
Blair instructed training officers in the techniques he had
developed with Jim and passed on to other officers, with
great success, at HQ.  Simon gave a lecture on integrating
other civilian departments into a complicated investigation. 
Jim also lectured--once on the latest street weapons, and
the second time on working with civilian experts.  

Then six members of The Freehold Movement tried to kidnap
the young Crown Prince of Balmoral.  The terrorists found
themselves facing down a full regiment worth of Retrieval
Officers.  It wasn't much of a contest until one of the
terrorists decided to blow himself and the prince up.  Lorna
White Cloud threw herself on the young prince.  The prince
received minor injuries while Lorna nearly died.

Blair had volunteered to assist in the surgery.  White Cloud
was looking at a lot of therapy, but she was alive and her
chip was still working.

"Hey, Jet," Jim whispered to his former trainee.  "Go wake
Blair."

Jet shook her head no.  "He'll give me the impossibly large
eyes look."

"Coward," Simon chided.

"I don't want to do it," Maxine admitted.

"You guys are dancing around like you're afraid of Blair,"
Daryl smirked.

"We are," Jim, Jet, Maxine, and Simon said in unison.

Daryl moaned.  "I'll do it."  He went to Blair's cabin. 
Four minutes later he returned.

"Well?" Jim asked.

"He was bundled up like a baby.  I could hardly tell which
end was his head, so I poked him in the middle.  I thought
he was going to throw something at me.  I never knew he
could be so grouchy."  Daryl sat back down in his seat.

"A real long surgery, followed by a sleeping crash brings
out the worst in Sandburg," Jim explained.

Blair stumbled into the sitting area, mumbled "coffee" at
the automatic server, and snatched the cup from the
dispenser.  He staggered over to the couch and plopped down
beside Jet.  "Ugh," he protested.  "How long before we
dock?"

"We docked three minutes ago," Simon responded.  "We're just
waiting for disembarkation approval."

"Hey, Blair.  When was the last time you were here?" Daryl
asked.

"Three years ago.  I spent about nineteen weeks working at a
first explorer's crash site.  It was great having regular
meals and a nice bed," Blair responded.

"Who's the heir to the castle?" Daryl asked.

"It becomes Uncle Frederick's responsibility after
Grandfather Herman, then Claudia becomes mistress of the
castle."

"So the rest of the family gets left out?" Daryl asked,
making a note on his datapad.

"No.  We're all welcome to stay there and contribute to its
upkeep," Blair responded after sipping from his cup.

"Does it run up a lot of debt?" Daryl asked as he made
further notes.

Blair finished off the last of his coffee.  "The winery,
olive groves, coffee plantation, restaurant, and hotel keep
it in the black."  He paused.  "Are you writing a paper?" he
asked, showing some interest.

Daryl nodded.  "This accelerated program takes a lot of my
time, and it demands a lot more work from me than I was
anticipating.  When I posted my itinerary for the conference
and the reunion, Professor Hunnicutt asked for a magazine
article on the conference, which, if approved, will be
published in the Rainier Institute Standard.  Professor El
Fahid asked for a report on Carmel, local flavor, sights,
and that sort of thing.  Professor Salmon wants a paper on
the history of the castle.  Professor Runyan wants lots and
lots of odd-angle photographs of the falls and a souvenir to
display in his case and it must not cost more than five
credits."  The young man consulted his datapad, a
seventeenth birthday present from Blair.  "I need at least
four interviews.  Four!  Who am I going to get to talk to
me?"

"Daryl, the Sandburg who doesn't love to talk hasn't been
whelped yet," Jim declared.  "Trust me, once the word is out
you're conducting interviews for an *academic* pursuit, you
won't be able to rest for all the volunteers."

Daryl looked very excited.  "I hope so.  It'll be hard to
compete with all the scenery and the planned activities."

The announcement that their section could disembark finally
came.  Jim went ahead as he had spotted his brother in the
crowd waiting on the trains which would take them from the
spaceport.  "Hey, Steve!"  

Several men turned, but Jim was able to get Steven's
attention very quickly.  The two men embraced.

"Jim!  I thought you would have already arrived."

"We had an emergency.  Malcolm, Crown Prince of Balmoral,
was nearly kidnapped from the same city the RO conference
was being held in."

Steven shook his head sadly.  "You can't seem to avoid
trouble, can you?"

"I only want to lead a simple life," Jim said sweetly.

Steven snorted.  "Uh-huh."

"Hey, Steve," Blair called.  "I'm glad you could make it."

"I couldn't miss it after your Aunt Esther called.  She's
quite something," Steven declared.  "Anyone that persuasive
needs to be working for me."

The party loaded up on the train for the trip to the castle. 
Daryl complained until he and Steven got the best seats, as
Blair had already seen everything and everyone else had
augmented sight.

After they passed the falls, the young man interviewed
everyone about their first impressions of the often-filmed
location.


Blair grinned when he saw that Naomi was waiting for them at
the train station.  "Hi, Mom," he called as he ran over and
hugged her.  They hadn't seen each other in months, as his
parents had been working with an expedition on a company-
discovered planet cataloging plants and animals.

"Sweetie, you look tired," Naomi declared, going into Mom
mode.

"Long surgery," he explained.  He stepped back and let Jet
and his mother embrace.  In that, Blair was blessed.  His
mother and girlfriend were very close, going so far as to
conspire together.  He loved it.

"Blair, look at the horses," Daryl exclaimed as several
riders galloped up to the station.  "Please tell me you
ride."

"I ride," Blair promised.

"All right!  Can you teach me?" Daryl asked excitedly.

"Sure, but you might want to ask Steve first," Blair
suggested.

Daryl looked back at the businessman and appeared to be very
unconvinced.  "Steve?"

"Steve is an excellent rider.  You should have seen him at
the clan gathering.  The man was born to ride," Blair
explained.  "Ask him for lessons.  It'll keep him from
locking himself up in his room and working."

Daryl gazed at the youngest Ellison.  "I can tell he's
thinking about where he can set up to get some work done."

Blair placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder.  "Save
him, Daryl."

"Steve?" Daryl called.

The businessman looked up from his datapad.  "Yes?"

"They have horses, trails, and all that stuff.  Could you
teach me to ride?" Daryl asked, looking young and hopeful.

"Can you squeeze it in with all the activities that we have
planned?" Steve asked.

Daryl put his arm around the taller man.  "Sure, we don't go
fishing for another five days."  He looked around
conspiratorially.  "Look, Steve, romance is in the air.  We
have just got to come to grips with that.  My dad is caught,
netted, and on his way to being stuffed and mounted."  Steve
started laughing.  "When he marries Helaine, that will make
Blair Dad's nephew.  Then Jim will marry Claudia, though I
don't know why when she could have me, and that will make
Frederick and Dorothy Jim's in-laws and Blair his cousin-in-
law.  We are trapped in the Sandburg zone.  We need to get
to know each other, man, because we will be the only single
and sane ones left."

Steve had tears in his eyes.  "Okay, partner."  He put his
arm around the younger man.  They grabbed their bags and
headed up the gentle slope toward the castle.  Just as they
rounded the curve and came to stop in front of the marble
steps, a bevy of Sandburg lovelies came through the double
doors.

They varied in age, height, size, eye, skin, and hair
colors, but they all had one thing in common--they were all
very beautiful.

"We're in *so* much trouble here, Steve," Daryl whispered.

"Be strong," Steve said as he gazed at the gorgeous women.


                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Jim, Steven, and Joe Ellison lugged the chairs and sleeping
rolls onto the boat.  Simon and Daryl Banks handled the cook
stove and drinks.  Mark and Blair Sandburg brought on the
food.  After everything was in place; Simon and Jim shoved
the boat off from the dock and their fishing trip officially
began.

Blair cleared his throat.  "Welcome, everyone, to the first
annual Father and Son bonding trip."  

Mark put his arm around his son and gave him a tight
squeeze.  "This is going to be so *cool*."

"Would anyone like to make a speech?" Blair asked.  The rest
of the men looked uncomfortable.  "Come on.  Somebody?"

"If I catch a mermaid, can I keep her?" Daryl asked.

"Let's fish," Steven declared.

Mark turned his son to face him.  "We have a lot of work to
do with this group.  They are so out of touch with their
inner selves."

"I'm in touch with my inner self," Jim said defensively,
"and it wants to know how long before we eat."

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====

Simon kept Daryl from being pulled overboard by the large
and struggling fish as they dragged his netted catch aboard. 
"What a fish!" the RO captain exclaimed.

Steven got a picture of the two men and the fish as they
struggled to hold it aloft.  Then Mark moved forward to
measure and weigh the catch.  

Joe logged the measurements.  "That's the largest one so
far," he announced.

"All right!" Daryl cheered.

"It's obviously been a good season for the porter fish,"
Mark said.  "We've been pulling in some championship sized
catches."  He checked the fish's mouth.  "This one has been
guarding its roe.  Look at the characteristic rubbing on the
lower jaw.  That comes from combat."

Blair leaned in for a look.  "Do they battle for mates?"

"Not the males," Mark explained.  "The females battle each
other for the choice mates.  After the mating, the male
guards the eggs until they hatch."

Jim helped Simon release the fish back into the water.  It
was their fourth day on the water, and Simon hadn't been
this relaxed in a long time.  It felt good to go unshaven,
wear baggy shorts, belch when he wanted to, have beer with
breakfast, and, best of all, *bond* with his son.  As for
Daryl, he was having so much fun that he had long ago
stopped complaining about the lack of women on the trip.

Daryl and Mark headed down to the tiny galley as it was
their turn to prepare the meal.  Food had run the gamut from
restaurant-worthy at Blair's turn to "what was that supposed
to have been?" when it was Steven's turn.  The captain had
entered a conspiracy to keep the younger Ellison on clean up
duty from then on.

"Simon, take a look forty degrees south," Jim said.

Banks turned to the indicated direction.  He adjusted and
readjusted his sight until he saw two boats close to the
wave generators.  "Joe, call the local authorities.  There
are two boats in the restricted zone near the wave
generators."

"On it," General Ellison said as he established contact with
Central Patrol.

"Steve, take the helm and head us toward the falls," Simon
commanded.

The wave generators protected this world from what would
otherwise be nearly constant meteorite hits.  In the ninety
years the deflection system had been in place, the planet
had flourished.  Losing it would be a major disaster.

"Simon, your son is on this boat.  Hell, both my sons are on
this boat," Joe said agitatedly.  "You can't take them into
anything dangerous."

"We're just moving closer for now.  Just in case," Simon
responded.  He had no intention of letting Daryl get hurt,
but neither was he going to allow these people unchallenged
access to the planet's protection.

Steven swung the boat around, eliciting major protests
below.  "What are you doing up there?" Daryl demanded.  "I
nearly spilt *all* of the french fries."

"Sorry, Son, we have some suspicious activity near the
falls," Simon apologized.  Mark and Daryl emerged from the
galley.

The younger Ellison must have saved all his talent for
handling surface craft, because Steven had the boat moving
smoothly and efficiently across the water.

"Bring us around that small island and stop," Jim ordered.

"What do you see?" Blair asked as he strained to get a look
at the action.

Simon and Jim concentrated on their suspects.  Banks shook
his head.  "I can't get any audio.  There is too much
mechanical interference, but they have the panel opened on
one of the generators."

"Could they be maintenance?" Joe asked.

"No.  They aren't in government boats, wearing government
coveralls, or using government tools," Simon reported.

"Jim, I want you to link hearing and sight," Blair
suggested.  "I'm right here with you.  Center and relax. 
Sight and hearing are one.  Let your eyes tell you what you
hear."

Simon watched amazed as Jim repeated word for word what the
saboteurs, and there was no doubt that they were sabotaging
the equipment, were saying.  What he reported perfectly
matched the lip movements that Simon could see.  Blair *had*
to teach him that trick.

The criminals planned to bring down the deflection fields,
and during the chaos they would snatch and grab all they
could.  The fact that hundreds would be hurt or killed
didn't figure into their plans.

"Are you picking anything up, Daryl?" Simon inquired.

Daryl went still for a moment.  "They have friends but they
aren't anywhere near.  They don't fear anyone right now." 
He turned back toward Simon.  "They don't know we're here."

"How can you do that from so far away?" the general
inquired.

"I just can," Daryl replied somewhat cautiously.

The general looked very impressed.  "I don't have anyone on
my staff who can cover this much distance with anything
close to accuracy."  He smiled.  "You're very impressive,
young man."  Joe called Central Patrol back and updated them
on what was going on.  The fact that there were *two*
Retrieval Officers near the scene seemed to excite the
patrol.

As the men watched, two central patrol ships flew in and
hovered over the small boats bobbing near the falls.  

"No!" Daryl shouted.  "Get them away!"

"What's wrong, Son?" Simon asked.  

With no warning at all for the airships, the surface boats
opened fire.  

"Get us to those downed pilots, Steve.  What do we have for
weapons?" Jim asked.

"We're on a fishing trip, Jim.  No one has any weapons,"
Mark protested.

"Hold outs?" Jim prompted.

Joe, Steven, Jim, Simon, and Daryl all produced weapons. 
Mark stared open-mouthed.  Simon guessed the only thing that
would have shocked him more would be Blair also having a
weapon.

General Ellison called Central Patrol back, but they already
knew that two of their vessels had just been blown out of
the sky.


Simon and Jim detached the two surface skimmers from the
back of their boat and headed toward the survivors.  Jim
kept the most injured one in sight as he moved his Wave
Hopper between them and the saboteurs.

He was wondering how he was going to get the unconscious
officer back to the boat when he heard "The Little Guppy"
pulling into the area.  That's when the criminals opened
fire.

Steven swung the boat around and provided cover for Jim and
the downed officers.  Joe and Mark jumped into the water to
help bring the injured to the boat where Daryl and Blair
waited to bring them aboard.  

Simon returned fire and powered his skimmer right at the
other boats.  His first shot took out the man leaning over
the generator; the second through fourth shots disabled the
two boats.

With Mark and Joe taking care of the injured, Jim rushed his
Wave Hopper at the saboteurs.  Suddenly squeezed between the
two officers, the last of the criminals surrendered.

When the central patrol ships arrived, the injured officers
were being expertly treated onboard "The Little Guppy", and
the criminals were lying face down on the decks of their
boats awaiting transport to holding facilities.
          

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Jim *allowed* himself to be fussed over when they returned
to the castle.  Blair was right; being spoiled was fun,
especially if Claudia was doing the spoiling.  The couple
went to the roof garden of the castle and had a picnic.

When he was growing up, he had only attended picnics the
particular base they were stationed on had held with
attendance being "highly recommended".   It was not
something the family just did for fun.  In fact, he could
think of very few things the family had done just for fun. 
The fishing trip was the only thing that came to mind.

Claudia popped a grape into his mouth.  "Lost in thought?"

"Just comparing my family to yours," Jim admitted.

"And?" she prompted when Jim didn't automatically continue.

Jim sighed.  "A year ago, I would have thought that it would
be your money that I would envy, but it isn't.  I envy how
close you all are, and how you always tell each other that
you love them."

"You didn't hear the knockdown, drag out over the antique
dress between Willow and Marlene?" Claudia asked, almost
laughing.  "I thought there might be bloodshed before I
stepped in and reminded them that [a] the dress belonged to
me as heir to the castle, and [b] both of them were almost a
foot too tall to wear it.  Or the 'how can you date my ex-
boyfriend' fight between Donald and Suzanne?"

"That was an impossibly juicy cat fight," Jim admitted
sheepishly.  "I thought Donald was holding his own.  At
least for the first two minutes.  Naomi pulled a fine
rescue.  She can watch my back anytime."

Claudia laughed.  "I love you, Jim Ellison," she declared.

Jim grinned.  "Thanks, Claudia.  I love you, too."  He
leaned in for a long kiss.  He gripped her thick curls and
brought his love's lips into tighter contact.  Claudia had a
fantastic mouth and gave kisses of epic proportions.

He was about to suggest a change in location when he heard
Blair's mother scream.  "Naomi!" he shouted as he untangled
himself from around Claudia.

Jim raced down the staircase to the second floor where he
could hear a major commotion brewing.  Dashing into the
second floor parlor, he found Naomi standing in front of the
comm center, being restrained by her sister, Helaine.

"What's going on?" Jim demanded.

"They've taken Mark," Helaine reported, grim-faced.

"What?"  Jim was horrified.  

"Who's taken Mark?" Maxine asked from behind Jim.

"The people you arrested, their friends have grabbed Mark
and they're holding him hostage until the local government
releases the terrorists."  Helaine gave her sister a
squeeze.

"They won't negotiate," Naomi said harshly.  "I'm all right. 
You can let go," she told her sister.  "Get the family
together.  We need to organize a rescue."

"Wait a minute, Naomi.  No offense, but this isn't some
schoolyard prank here," Jim began.  "These are some nasty
people with very little to lose."

"All the more reason for us to get moving."  Naomi tapped in
a code into the console of the comm center.  "Assemble in
the dining hall, this is an emergency."

Blair pushed his way into the room.  He was wearing a silk
robe, a restraint cuff on one wrist, and nothing else. 
"What's going on?"

"Your father's been kidnapped," Jim said as his eyes settled
on the handcuff.  "Why are you wearing that?"

Blair looked at his wrist and blushed.  "Jet and I were
playing 'Good Cop, Bad Anthropologist'."

                            . . . .

The family listened as the local constable explained the
circumstance of the kidnapping.  Marcus Sandburg had been
shopping at the Circle Cove bazaar when an elderly woman had
suddenly collapsed at the booth beside him.  They found out
later that she had been darted.  

As he eased the stricken woman to the ground, a man had
pressed an injector to his neck.  Marcus had struggled
before passing out.  Citizens who had tried to intervene had
been held back at gunpoint.  The kidnappers had left a note
for the police.  They would trade Marcus for the people who
had been arrested.  But the government would not negotiate. 
Why encourage further kidnappings?

Jim had expected hand wringing, offers of money, and calls
for negotiations from the Sandburgs.  He was wrong.  

Herman Sandburg, Blair's grandfather, came right to the
point.  "Gentlemen, it's legal to hire a private army on
Carmel.  I want you to bring my son back to me, Simon. 
Whatever it takes.  Can you handle that?"

"We can handle it, Sir," Simon said as he gently squeezed
Helaine's hand.

Jim looked over at Blair.  He was holding his mother's hand. 
His face was... frightening.  Jim had known Blair for over a
year.  They had become close in a way that was beyond
friendship, blood ties, or love.  They were Sentinel and
Guide.  He knew the man; knew him very well.  His friend's
love for his parents was enormous.  They were closer than
most people could understand.  Even long periods of
separation did nothing to dull that.  Jim feared for the
safety of the people who had taken Marcus.  If they hurt the
man, then Blair would make them suffer.  If they killed
him... it didn't bear thinking about.

Marge Sandburg Hefler, the director of R & D at Titan
Electronics and first cousin to Marcus, basically took over
the planet's communication systems.  It was a major crime no
one was going to report.  When the terrorists called back to
negotiate for the release of their cohorts, they talked to
Joe Ellison, who spoke fluent bureaucrat.  Jim admired his
father's ability to lie so well.

"Then we'll make the exchange after you sign the forms which
absolve us of any claims brought against you by the
Sandburgs," Joe said as if he were ordering coffee with that
little dollop of cream he shouldn't have.

"What?" the kidnapper asked, astonished.  The man had a bead
of sweat going down his forehead and his hazel eyes went
wide.  The rest of his face was covered with a dark blue
cloth.

Joe clicked his tongue.  "Young *man*, there is no way I can
go to the planetary council and tell them that our budget
had lost millions of credits due to negligence on our part
for the delay in recovering Professor Sandburg.  It's more
than my job is worth."  Joe waved his hand as if the entire
world was settled on his shoulders and wrinkling his
otherwise pristine suit.  "One form would release us from
fiscal responsibility, and a second one states you plan no
further kidnappings on our world."

"What?" the kidnapper demanded, sounding nearly hysterical.

Joe allowed a frown to briefly touch his face.  Then it
melted away in a show of bureaucratic control, which could
only be gained through years in the trenches.  "Tourism is
our bread and butter, young man.  If people thought they
could be snatched from the streets... well, it would be more
than my job is worth."  He paused.  "Perhaps, I should send
a photographer to capture the release.  It might help
balance the bad publicity of the acts of terrorism and
kidnapping."

"What?"  The young terrorist ran his hand through his short,
spiky blond hair, which had been revealed when the man
snatched his cloth off in vexation.  His hazel eyes were
intense as he pressed his face almost into the screen. 
"Look, this is an exchange, not a press conference."

"Then you'll make a statement for the press?  Excellent!  I
can have the time allotted for broadcast.  Perhaps just
before the evening news," Joe said with a touch, but just a
touch, of excitement in his voice.  "That would definitely
take the bad taste out of the public's mouth."

"No," the terrorist snarled.

Joe tented his fingers and sighed dramatically as if the
waiter had arrived with the wrong order.  Again.  "Look,
I've done all I can for you, and I expect a little
cooperation here.  I mean, some of the people on the council
favor sacrificing Professor Sandburg and hanging your
friends in the public square.  Personally, I abhor violence,
and the stench from their rotting corpses cannot be
countered by our upcoming Flower Festival."  He sniffed and
visibly pushed such ugly thoughts out of his mind.  "Now I'm
willing to settle for a recorded statement," Joe declared
reasonably.

"Look, buddy.  Here's the deal.  Bring our people to Fort
Summit in two hours and we make the exchange.  No
statements, no forms, and NO press!"  The other man closed
the connection.

Joe sniffed, still very much in character.  "A most
uncooperative man."

Steven patted his father on the back.  "Dad, you're one sick
man, but I admire that.  If you ever want to retire from the
military, I have a job for you with my corporation."

It was a bonding moment for father and son.
     

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Donnelly watched his chronometer nervously.  He half
expected that stupid government toad to show up with a crowd
of reporters and speech makers, desperate to put a positive
spin on this total disaster of an operation.

He went to the former kitchens of the old fort to check on
the prisoner.  Rather and Stachowiak were calmly playing
cards on the old butcher block.  

"Why don't you have him ready to go?" he asked gruffly.

Stachowiak looked up from her winning hand.  "He said he had
to meditate in order to cleanse himself of the negative
energy the situation had caused.  All I know is that if he
tries to make me feel better about myself one more time, I
am going to choke him, and dead hostages don't work very
well."

Donnelly snorted.  The guy used big words, wanted them to
feel better about themselves, and was very annoying.  He
wasn't even properly frightened.  All in all, Sandburg was
one lousy hostage.  He walked into the old meat storage
locker where the older man was chanting while he sat in
lotus.  He hauled the guy to his feet.  "Let's go, grandpa." 
He said it to keep Sandburg in his place, not because the
older man, and he had to be older to have a son Donnelly's
age, looked old.

"Young man, unfortunately I am no one's grandfather. 
However, I'm especially pleased I am *not* related to you. 
Now remove your hand from my arm," the professor commanded.

"I only have to give you back alive, old man.  No one said a
word about what condition you had to be in."  He slapped the
annoying man for the... he had lost count, then marched him
out of the locker.  Stachowiak and Rather were gone.  "Where
the fuck did they go?"  

Instinct caused him to pull the professor closer to his
chest.  Rather and Stachowiak were each too good a soldier
to leave their post.  There was no sign of a struggle, so
maybe they heard something and went to investigate.  Yeah,
that was it.

Donnelly moved into the hall and called out.  "Rather,
Stachowiak, report!"  There was no response.  "Cook,
Pertwee, Cammack, call out!"  Again there was no response. 
If it were some kind of joke, he wasn't laughing.

He made it back to the front room where ten of his best
people had been not four minutes earlier.  The room was
empty.  The furniture hadn't been disturbed, nothing was out
of place, but there was no one in the room.

Sandburg was totally quiet.  So quiet that Donnelly thought
that the chatterbox had died.  "You're choking me," he
gasped.

Donnelly was shocked to see that he had twisted the man's
collar so tightly that he was cutting off the professor's
air.  "This is just a warning, old man.  Just a little
warning in case you're thinking about trying to run."  He
released the professor.

He spared a glance for the outside patrol.  He was not
surprised when he didn't see any sign of the four people
posted to the wall patrol.

"Come on, old man."  Donnelly grabbed the smaller man's arm
and started hauling him toward the roof steps.  As his foot
landed on the second step, Sandburg went flying backwards
while he was hauled up.

Donnelly was a highly trained soldier of fortune who had
found a highly profitable life in crime.  He had fought more
campaigns than he cared to remember.  But finding himself
staring into the dark and enraged face of this huge man with
dark brown eyes made him wet himself.

Raising his weapon seemed to have sealed his fate.  The
large man grabbed his weapon hand, took his gun, and broke
his expensive pistol like a toy.  Donnelly ran.  Right into
the arms of a second, but not as large, man with intense
blue eyes.  The second man swept Donnelly's feet from under
him and sent him sprawling.  The mercenary made it to his
feet fairly quickly.

Running was his only thought as he found himself on the
ground again, this time courtesy of an extremely tall
beautiful young woman with large brown eyes.  A second
woman, much smaller with lavender eyes, punched him with a
force strong enough to snap the bones in his nose. 
Bleeding, he crawled away.

He found himself at the feet of Sandburg.  No.  Even though
this man was the very image of his former hostage, he was
obviously a lot younger, perhaps the professor's son.  No
matter.  Even if this Sandburg was twice as tough as his old
man then even injured, Donnelly still could handle him.

Young Sandburg hauled Donnelly to his feet.  Once standing,
Donnelly reached for the smaller man.  It was almost his
final mistake, ever.  This man only looked like the soft-
spoken professor.  Donnelly staggered from four sharp blows
delivered to his solar plexus, which were followed by two
brutal kicks to his stomach.  He lost count of the blows to
his face and shoulders as he was beaten to the ground.

"Stop, please," he begged as he gasped for air.  He had to
repeat his pleas five times before they were answered.

The young man pulled Donnelly's head back by the hair. 
"Never ever touch my daddy."

Donnelly nodded.  It was a lesson he was not likely to
forget.

As he was dragged out of the compound, he saw that as far as
damage went, he had been lucky.  Many of his crew hadn't
survived Sandburg's rescue.  The professor was being
lovingly passed around by his rescuers while they kept him
from viewing the stacked bodies at the end of the courtyard.

All in all, it had been a massive failure for Donnelly and
his people.    

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Blair peeked in on his father, who was sleeping quietly in
Naomi's arms.  His bruises had been healed and now he only
had to deal with the trauma of having been taken hostage. 
Naomi had a long gash on her arm, now healed, taken when she
had engaged in a hand-to-hand with one of the wall guards in
the assault.  It was a detail mother and son would likely
gloss over with the professor.  Marcus worried about his
adventure-prone wife and son.

Marcus stirred as soon as his sensitive nose detected the
aroma of the hot and sour soup Blair had brought for him. 
"Soup?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, Dad.  It's your favorite."  He set the tray beside
the bed and kissed his father's cheek.

"You're a good son, Blair."  The elder Sandburg sat up and
tasted the soup.  "Perfect, as always.  I hope you didn't
let Hawthorne get into the kitchen; he's supposed to be on
vacation."

"He wanted to make it for you, Sir.  The man dotes on you,"
Blair explained.

Mark smiled.  "He does indulge me."

Blair sat down beside his father.  "I'm so glad you're safe,
Dad.  I was afraid for you."

Mark ruffled his son's curls.  "I knew I would be all right. 
My family and friends were coming for me.  I was sure of
that."  He kissed his son's forehead.  "Besides, I have
those future grandchildren to spoil."             

Blair rolled his eyes and moaned.  "Dad, what am I going to
do with you?"

"Actually, I'm quite loveable," Marcus insisted.
     

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Jim looked over at his father and brother as the three
Ellisons sat on the dock.  They had come here to talk, but
it had been mostly silence since they had arrived.  That was
pretty much the Ellison way: Things were assumed, not
spoken.  He sighed and watched one of the most spectacular
sunsets he had ever seen.

"Jim, Steve," Joe began.  "I just wanted to say I was real
proud of the way the two of you handled yourselves at the
fort."

"Thanks, Dad," Steve said.

"Thanks," Jim said.

They were silent for a while.

"And I thought that the Sandburgs handled themselves very
well, too."  Jim and Steven nodded in agreement.  "I was
thinking that, for civilians, they are one tough bunch.  I
liked the way they put aside their petty, and pretty
amusing, family squabbles to come after Mark."

"Yeah," Steve agreed with a chuckle.  They were quiet again. 
"So who do you think was right, Penny or Susan?"

"I think Susan has the right of it.  Penny's kid damaged the
centerpiece and Penny should have it repaired.  The argument
that Susan's kid was such a brat that she deserved to be hit
with the centerpiece didn't hold much water with me," Jim
remarked.

"Neither does the centerpiece," Joe added.  The three
Ellison men laughed.


                          -- The End --