Work Text:
What He Needed
by Bluewolf
Jim sat staring into the flickering embers of the wood stove.
All he knew was that there was something he wanted to do.
Something he wanted - no, needed - to do. Or find. But he had no idea what it was.
He gave an unamused half grunt as he reminded himself that the only thing he really needed to do was find an answer to the case sitting on his desk. He had read the 'facts' about it so often that he practically had the case notes memorized. But nothing was jumping out at him said saying 'This feels odd...' or 'There's an inconsistency here... '
In six months, there had been six targets. A post office in Tacoma. A bridge on the Snohomish. A ferry in the middle of Puget Sound... No two cases were in close proximity; there were eight dead, drowned when the ferry sank. Twenty-one others had been injured in the six incidents. The only thing that linked the cases was the letter addressed to Jim, and signed 'The Switchman', that had been sent to Cascade PD after each incident. Each letter said simply some variant on, 'You let them die'.
Perhaps he couldn't think what it was he wanted/needed to do because his mind was blocking out everything except the total lack of potential evidence in that extended case?
Well, one thing he needed to do as he sat there was put some more wood on the fire before it burned out. It wasn't exactly cold in the loft, but there was a slight chill in the air - enough that having the fire on made it more comfortable. Leaning forward, he picked up the heat-proof gloves lying beside the stove, pulled them on and opened the stove door. He tossed in three or four pieces of wood, closed the door, dropped the gloves back onto the floor and sat back again, watching as a flame flickered up the side of one of the pieces of wood and started it burning.
***
Next morning, Cascade PD.
Carolyn knocked on Simon's door and went in. "This is unusual. The Switchman actually sent us a warning about two hours ago. We did a sound sweep and caught the audio signal of a timer. The explosive was hidden in a pedestal ashtray."
There was another knock on the door and Joel opened it.
"The charge was in a wax casing, Captain - " He was interrupted by an explosion.
***
Back in Simon's office an hour later, Carolyn said, "I don't understand it. The sound sweep should have picked up the second timer as well."
Joel sighed. "The second timer wasn't the same type. He hardwired it right into the station's lobby clock. But I think the ante's been upped here. This charge is like an IRA nail bomb. It was meant to catch and injure the people checking up on the first bomb."
Jim entered the office in time to hear Joel's comment. "I think the station was just a warm-up. This was in my email folder." He handed a print-out to Simon, who read it aloud.
"Dear Detective Ellison: Today I bought my ticket. Tomorrow I ride to the end of the line. The Switchman."
"Sounds as if he's planning on killing himself?" Carolyn said.
"Possibly," Jim said, "but I suspect he's also planning something very, very serious... "
"Where would cause the worst damage in Cascade?" Simon asked.
"I think that might depend on who you asked," Carolyn said slowly. "A lot of people might say Wilkinson Tower - the city's biggest mall. Some might say the PD or the Court Buildings, but it's relatively easy to get alternative offices. Some might think of someplace like the Green Street Bridge - a major part of the road network. If the Switchman blew that up it would cause major disruption to the city."
"Well, he'd already had a go at the PD," Simon said slowly. "And the Green Street Bridge is closed for a week for repairs - it's an inconvenience, but the diversions are managing - "
"That's it!" Jim exclaimed. "Easy for him to get onto the bridge at night and plant one - or more than one - bomb. Then it wouldn't be just a week of inconvenience, it'd be months. Probably a year or more and cost the city millions to repair. Carolyn - send a squad out to made a sound sweep of the bridge - "
"Do it!" Simon said. "He might know about sound sweeps, because of that hardwired bomb he used here, but there's nothing on the bridge he could use to hardwire a bomb to."
"It's not necessarily the bridge - " Joel said.
"But it's a possibility," Jim said.
***
Because of the way the repairs to the bridge were being done, the only way to access it was from the south end. Carolyn's team did a quick sound sweep, and came up with nothing.
"Right," Jim said. "I'll keep an eye on it overnight, and into tomorrow."
He knew the area well, and knew exactly where he could hide that would still give him a good view of the limited access road to the bridge. Just as it was getting dark, he settled down, knowing that Simon had patrol officers watching the access roads as well.
Nothing happened during the night.
As the morning progressed, Jim began to think that they had made a mistake thinking that the Switchman's next target would be the Green Street Bridge. Then, just after 11 am, a bus took the ramp onto the bridge. Focusing on it, Jim thought he saw a woman holding a gun on the driver. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't think where he might have seen her before. Then as the bus passed under him, he dropped down onto the roof.
He could hear a man's voice. "... Green Street Bridge. The tour guide forced the driver - "
His voice was interrupted by the woman's. In one hand she was holding a phone, one he guessed she had taken from the passenger who had phoned the police. The other held a gun. "I want to talk to the officer in charge. No, I want the one who couldn't catch me. Detective Ellison."
"I'm here," Jim said from behind her. "Put the gun down."
"No. Remember my message? This is the end of the line. I want to die."
"And I want an arrest." He fired and knocked the gun out of her hand, then moved quickly forward and pushed her onto the floor of the bus. She lost her hold on the phone and it slid away. "Where's the bomb?"
"You find it."
"Tell me!"
She shook her head. "You let him die. You let them all die."
Jim looked at her, puzzled for only a moment longer. He knew her now, though he had only seen a photograph of her many years previously. The daughter of one of the men who had died in Peru. "Veronica, your father was my friend. I never hurt him. I tried to save his life, you've got to believe that. Now, where's that bomb?"
She smiled. "Tick. Tick... "
"Would your father have wanted you to kill?"
"Everyone who died was your fault, because you left me alone... "
Jim looked around helplessly, the noticing the driver moving towards the door, called, "No! She could have wired the door!" As the driver retook his seat, Jim carried on looking around the bus. A bomb could be hidden anywhere...
The young man who had retrieved the phone said softly, "Don't look for it. Listen. You'll hear it."
Something in his voice felt familiar, and he suddenly remembered Incacha, the shaman he had worked with in Peru. Yes! He could do that! He could listen, and hear something like that!
He gave his gun to the man. "Watch her. Right, everybody, just relax, okay? We're gonna get you out of here safely." He began to make his way along the length of the bus.
Veronica, desperate now, kicked out, knocking the gun from the young man's hand. Realizing that she was going to grab the... cop? who was now listening for the bomb, the man grabbed her, struggled with her for a moment, then punched her, knocking her out.
Jim, unaware of the struggle behind him, heard a ticking sound; he traced it to a small suitcase in the compartment above the passenger seats, and threw the suitcase out of an open window.
"Everybody get down!" he yelled as he dropped to the floor. He was only half aware of the passengers ducking when the bomb exploded and he knew he had found it with only seconds left on the timer.
He scrambled to his feet and went forward to where the young man who had helped him was lying on top of Veronica, his weight holding her down. He picked up the gun, and nodded to the man. "Thanks!"
Veronica pushed herself up, and looked at Jim, knowing that he had beaten her.
The bus door opened and two patrol officers entered.
Jim looked at his prisoner. "Veronica Sarris, you are under arrest - "
The Miranda finished, they took her away, and Jim looked around the passengers - and driver. "I'm sorry, you'll all have to go to the station to give a statement about what happened. I imagine the bus company will give you tickets for a tour another day, or a refund, if only because it's one of their employees who disrupted this tour. I'll arrange for another bus to come and collect you - "
"I've radioed the company," the driver said. "There's a bus on its way."
"Thanks." Jim turned his attention to the young man who had helped him. "I'll take you to the station myself - there are one or two things I'd like to ask you."
***
Once in his truck, Jim said, "I'm Detective Jim Ellison."
"Blair Sandburg. I'm a grad student, a TA at Rainier University."
"You look very young to be a TA."
"I'm older than I look - I'm twenty-six. Started at Rainier when I was sixteen. Basically I'm ABD - I just haven't found a subject for my doctoral thesis."
Jim hesitated, then said, "I was in the army before I joined the police. I was one of eight men sent to investigate something in Peru - can't go into details, the mission is still top secret. Anyway, our Huey crashed; I was the only survivor. Veronica was the daughter of one of the men who died - apparently she thinks that because I survived, somehow I was responsible for her father's death."
"Seriously unbalanced," Blair said.
Jim nodded. "I doubt she'll ever stand trial. Anyway, in Peru I was taken in by a local tribe, and their shaman... He understood that I could hear and see very well... Somehow, you seem to be the same. You knew I could hear things... "
"It's all of your senses, isn't it."
"Yes," Jim whispered. "I remember now... When I was a child my father called me a freak... and somehow I managed to forget how to hear well... But in Peru, I remembered. When I came back to Cascade I forgot again... but now I remember again..."
"What you have is a gift," Blair said. "After I've given my statement, I'd like you to come to Rainier with me. I've got a book there I'd like to show you. Because - Jim - I think it would tell you a lot about what you, and people like you, can do. You're a tribal protector, man; and as a cop, you're in the perfect position to protect your tribe."
And then Jim remembered. What he wanted - needed - was a Guide. And in Blair, he thought he might have found one.