"THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A VACATION!!!!"

A few heads turned at the great roar, a few small, tired smiles appeared, but the very fact that most of the crowd failed to react at all to his frustrated bellow drove Simon Banks even further into despair.

Who's idea was this, anyway? Sandburg. Always Sandburg. Simon should have known, before even thinking to agree to this little weekend trip,that something would go wrong. But it seemed harmless enough- Sandburg and Jim were planning to visit Sandburg's mother in a little commune she was staying at in some privately-owned mountain valley. When Simon, after a particularly hairy case that put the entire Major Crimes team through a lot, had decided that the weekend in question would be down time for everyone, Blair had invited them to all tag along. Road trip, a couple of nights in a peaceful cabin surrounded by mountains and streams, sounded like bliss. Simon, Rafe, Brown, and Taggart had all quickly said yes to the invitation.

And now here they were. Naomi Sandburg had greeted her son by saying she had asked him there for a reason- they were in trouble. Simon hadn't been very surprised. But then she explained the kind of trouble they were in.

"Alright, see, this land is owned by Tom over there. Thomas Babington. He's had it for a long time, and he built this place as a retreat a few years ago. But now there are people who want him to sell the land. It's some kind of developer's dream, I guess, and they want to ruin it. Build hotels and tourist- traps all over the valley."

The team from Major Crimes, not yet realizing what they were in for, listened to the story with interest, gazing around at the lush landscape, not surprised someone wanted to use the land to draw in tourists. It was beautiful.

"But Tom won't sell. No way. Because the only reason this place is so wonderful is because there aren't any hotels or tourist traps, and few people even know where it is."

"Alright, mom. What does this have to do with us?" Blair had asked curiously.

"They're sending people to chase us off the land, that's what."

Jim Ellison had scoffed. "Are you kidding?"

Naomi shot him a look lacking in love and peace. "Not at all, Jim. These developers have hired some group, some kind of wandering biker gang or something, I don't know. And they keep showing up, wrecking things and threatening us. They cut off our water supply a few days ago by destroying the well." Naomi gestured to a pile of bricks clumped over near the cabins. "Fortunately there's a stream running in those trees only about fifty yards away, so we still have all the water we want. But it keeps getting worse."

"Yeah." A long-haired man near Naomi, listening to her tell the story, jumped in. "They said if we weren't out of here by tomorrow, they were going to kill us all and burn the place to the ground. Can you believe it? Man, karma is going to turn those guys into slugs their next lives."

"Yeah," Jim had tried to hide a smirk. "Naomi, I don't think I understand the problem. Why don't you get the police out here?"

"Ji-im." Naomi pursed her lips at him. "You are the police."

"No, mom. Come on, you said you just wanted us to pay a visit." Blair glanced at the rest of the Major Crimes gang, his eyes apoligetic.

Simon stepped forward at that point. "Ms. Sandburg, I-"

"Is my mother here?" Naomi made a show of looking around.

Simon sighed. Even in the midst of a crisis, the woman didn't stop. "Naomi," he corrected himself. "The local police can handle this as well as we could. All we want is a little R and R."

"We can't go to the police, okay? They're watching us. They stop anyone who tries to go for help. They say they won't let anyone out of this valley, unless it's Tommy going to sign over his property."

"What? No one's watching the valley. We got in alright, didn't we?"

"Sure you did. They just thought you were another few people to terrorize. No offense, but you guys don't exactly look like cops."

The six men glanced at each other. No, they really didn't. Dressed for a vacation, they looked much to relaxed to be cops. From Rafe's stylish department-store sportswear to Joel and Blair's bright Hawaiian print shirts, they looked like tourists.

"This is ridiculous," Jim had insisted. "Naomi, there has to be a way to get ride of these guys without our help."

"Jim, man, this is serious. I think we should help em."

Turning a betrayed look on his partner, Jim frowned. "What are we supposed to do? This is supposed to be a vac-"

"Vacation, yeah. But by the sound of things, we aren't going to be able to just drive out of here anyway. We're trapped here, so why not help them fight off these losers?"

Behind them, Brown turned to Rafe. "Why do I feel like I'm trapped in a bad episode of the A-Team?"

But it wasn't a joke, and it was very real. Ten minutes later, the argument still went on, and Rafe, Brown, and Joel wandered away from the group to find something to drink. They were interrupted mid-stroll by the sound of a gunshot coming from the trees behind them.

"What was that?" Rafe had asked, rather rhetorically.

"You don't suppose these hippie types are into hunting, do you?" Brown had returned gamely.

"I doubt it." Joel concluded.

The three men heaved a mutual sigh, then started running for the trees, each pulling their own weapons, and exchanging brief sheepish looks over the fact that they'd all said they weren't going to bother packing guns for the weekend. Seemed it was ingrained in all of them. A fact that would probably come in handy right about now.

They ran towards the sound of the shot, and Rafe, in the lead, nearly tripped over the sprawled body. "Shit. Joel, check this guy out." Taggart had the closest thing to real medical training as any of them.

Joel came to a stop, kneeling down beside him. The two partners stood over him, breathing heavily, as he checked for a pulse. "He's alive, but we have to get some help."

The sound of footsteps suddenly made them all turn. Someone was running away from them, away from the commune. "Um. Okay, Brown, go get some help for this guy. Rafe, try and catch our friend there, I'll stay with him." Joel spoke with the voice of authority, and the two men took off in opposite directions without a pause.

Brown returned only a few seconds later with Jim, Simon, and Blair in tow. "They heard the shot," he explained, breathless.

"Help me get him back to the commune. You guys might want to help Rafe out." Joel held Blair's arm as he started to go off with Jim, Simon, and Brown. "Help me here, Blair, the guy's dying."

Hesitating only for a split second, Blair stooped and grabbed the man's legs, helping Joel lift him and carry him back through the trees towards the buildings.

"-and you can't get out to tell the cops, cause we always got someone watching. And now that I'm gone, their gonna come even sooner. You messed up coming after me,"

Jim had had just about enough of the sneering attitude of the punk Rafe had tackled in the woods. All they knew after an hour of questioning the man was that yeah, he had shot the hippie, and yeah, there were people watching the valley, ready to come in and burn the commune to the ground.

Blair saved him from his urge to just knock the guy out and figure things out himself. "Hey, Jim, come here for a minute." His eyes were serious.

Jim left Simon and Brown watching over their dirty new guest. "What's up, Chief?"

"That guy who got shot, Naomi told me he left the commune yesterday to get help. He talked to her for a few minutes, he said he hadn't gotten very far before he ran into them."

"How bad does he say it is?"

"Bad. He said there were hundreds of them there, getting ready to attack the place. I'm sure he was exaggerating, but there had to be at least a few dozen."

Jim whistled. "This stinks."

"There's a good part. You remember that bridge we went over to get here?"

"Yeah." Jim had almost turned the truck around when he saw the old bridge. About twenty feet below it had raged a thundering river; the road for about a dozen yards ahead of it, plus the bridge itself, was only wide enough for one car at a time- must have been inconvenient if a car showed up from each direction at the same time. And the old wooden planks hadn't looked exactly reliable. But Simon and Blair had urged them on, and Brown kept honking his horn impatiently from behind the truck, so Jim had finally eased over the bridge, and they'd all sighed in relief when it held the truck without any major creaks or snaps. "What about it?"

"That's the only way in or out, man. The bad guys are on the other side of the bridge, that's how they know if anyone comes or goes."

"One way in. You're right, that might be good for us. But that also means there's no way out for these people."

"I know." Blair frowned. "Naomi says there's an old trail that goes all over the woods and comes out somewhere on the other side of the mountain, but it takes hours, man. And another few hours to get to the nearest town."

"Why didn't you say so?" Jim stared at him in surprise. "We can get these people through a trail in the woods, Chief."

"We're not the only ones who know about it." Blair replied. "Mom said the last time the men showed up, they surprised them by pointing out the trail and wanring them not to use it to escape. And with so mnay of us, I doubt we could get away before they realized where we were going." Blair sighed. "It get's worse. Jim, they're coming tonight. That guy, Sam, the one who got shot, he overheard a couple of them talking about it before they spotted him.

"Shit," Jim glanced around at the people in sight. There were a few dozen people in this commune, but they were going to be exactly no help at all. Naomi had bragged personally about the peace-loving spirits of her new friends. Even if they were willing to defend themselves, they didn't have the skill or the weapons to fight off an equal or greater amount of attackers. "Alright, let's go talk to Simon, see what he says. I hate this, Chief."

"I know, man. But I can't blame Naomi. She was just trying to save these people's lives."

"Yeah, yeah." Jim knew enough not to blame Sandburg's mother for luring them there under false pretenses. But that didn't make the situation suck any less.

"That's it. Jim, we're out of options here. All we can do is show them we're cops, and hope they're smart enough to back off."

"Simon. You know they aren't going to do a thing. If they're willing to kill all these people over some stupid billion-dollar real estate deal, they'll happily throw in a few cop corpses. These aren't exactly moral people."

"You got a better idea, Jim? Now's the time."

"No, I don't have a better god damned idea. This is great. This is just great."

"I have an idea," Rafe cut in suddenly.

Jim went on like he hadn't even heard. "We're going to be killed by some group of redneck mercenaries so some rich prick with a real estate scheme can cash in. Great. I can't believe this."

"I have an idea." Rafe repeated quietly.

Blair went to Jim's side, instinctively trying to calm the irate sentinel. "Look, Jim, it isn't over yet. You know, they could have just been threatening. What's the chance they're actually willing to kill over some land?"

"Why don't you ask your new friend Sam. Or is he still unconscious?"

Blair winced, but didn't answer.

"Hey. I have an idea."

"We have no options here, Jim. We can't hide, we can't run. And we probably can't defend ourselves."

"So what? You're just going to give up?" Joel's shocked eyes were going between the two men.

"No. No, we won't roll over and let them kill everyone here without a fight. But it probably won't amount to much."

"Hey. Guys. I. Have. An. Idea."

Simon turned to the youngest man in the Major Crimes circle in annoyance. "What, Rafe? Jesus, we're trying to plan here."

Brown went to Rafe's side. "The man has an idea, Simon. I think we should listen to it. Can't be worse than you guys arguing like children."

"Alright, alright. I know I'm going to regret this. What's your idea, Rafe?"

"Gee, can I? Can I tell you?" Rafe rolled his eyes. "Man, if I was Blair, you guys would be all ears, wouldn't you?"

"RAFE?!?"

"Alright, alright." Rafe backed a careful step away from the angry Jim Ellison. "Look, it's simple. You said that bridge is the only way in, right?"

"Uh huh," Blair answered when no one else did.

"Okay," Rafe stood energetically and started pacing. "So why don't we knock the bridge out?"

"What?" Simon sounded surprised, but interested.

"If there's no bridge, they can't get to us, right?"

"And we can't get out of here."

"Jim, we could take that trail, the one that goes through the woods? We could send someone through who knows where to go, and they could bring back help." Blair was looking hopeful.

"There's a trail?!?" Simon erupted in shock. "Why the hell didn't anyone say so? Naomi! Why are we standing here figuring out thebest way to be killed when we could take some trail out?"

Naomi returned his gaze calmly. "We could have taken the trail to get help, but instead we sent for you. there are about three police officers in this part of the state, and they're practically Mayberry, you know? They told us that if they caught us all trying to escape, they'd come in early and kill us before we could."

"Huh. Figures." Simon returned to his seat.

"Can I finish?" Rafe asked, annoyed.

"No, man." Blair was thoughtful. "If they're keeping so close an eye on things, they'd see us trying to knock the bridge out. They'd come through before we could."

"Yeah, yeah. That's all part of the plan."

"Just tell us your damn plan, Rafe," Brown spoke up suddenly, looking tired.

Rafe's hurt eyes went to his partner, then back to the others. "I figure there's about enough room for four people, side by side, to come through that narrow space before you get to the bridge. So we'll block it from them."

"Block the bridge?" Jim was incredulous. "You did hear us say that there were dozens of these guys, right? You want four of us to hold them all back while the others try and destroy that bridge plank by plank?"

Rafe sighed. "Look, it won't be that hard. All they have to do is knock out the wood attatching it to their side of the ground. The thing's so old it should collapse right into the water. And with enough people therre, it shouldn't take too long."

"Whether it takes two minutes or twenty, it's still impossible."

"No, it isn't, Jim!" Rafe retorted, getting perturbed.

"How are four people supposed to stop these guys? Come on, Rafe, think for a minute."

Rafe straightened noticably. "Look, Jim, you and Simon were just now practically debating how many rocks you could throw at these guys before they kill everyone, including us. I say we can do this, even if whoever goes to block that bridge is killed."

There was a pause, and Jim deflated slightly. "I still don't think it can work," he threw out stubbornly.

Rafe gave a small, unreadable smile. A light grew in his eyes, and he answered slowly. "To every man on this earth, death comes sooner or later. How can you expect to die better than facing odds like this to save the lives of innocent people?" There was a pause. No one replied. "Look, Naomi, get everyone together, get whatever supplies you have, and get that bridge down. I'm going to stand on the other side. I can't do this alone, though, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather have fight and die by my side than you guys. So how about it?"

For a moment all they did was stare. Jim stared, disbelieving, at the young, irresponsible man in front of him, a man he would have sworn days ago would have been more interested in maintaining his wardrobe and looking chic for the ladies than put himself in the path of a hundred rampaging mercenaries. But here he was.

Henri Brown, already at Rafe's side, clapped a hand on his shoulder suddenly. "I'll be at your right side, Rafe, don't worry. Anyone wanna take the left?"

A sudden gleam lit the sentinel's eyes, and he stood slowly, crossing to Rafe and putting a hand on his other shoulder with a smile. "I'll be beside you, Rafe."

And there was his Guide, coming to his side as always. "I'll be next to Jim." Blair spoke out, meeting Rafe's eyes with glowing respect.

Simon Banks felt frozen to the spot. He had watched the last few minutes in silence, and now he didn't think he could speak even when he wanted to. A burst of pride welled up in him so deep it almost hurt. These were his men, lined up in front of him as they were volunteering to line up to face down the killers who were threatening them. For once he didn't even want to contradict, to tell Sandburg, if no one else, that he wasn't a cop and this wasn't his place. His place was by his partner, just like Ellison's place was by his fellow detectives. This was right, and he wouldn't try to stop it. Even knowing the four men would be standinf side by side facing certain death.

"Alright." He spoke up finally, a catch in his throat. "Let's do it."

Beside him, Joel Taggart seemed equally affected. "I'l...uh, I'll go help Naomi gather people." He stood slowly and headed for the door. But he turned back once and gazed at the men who still stood proudly lined up. unable to say anything, not capable of a thought but a brief, heart felt prayer that this wouldn't be the way he would have to remember them, he turned back and left.

Blair wasn't even nervous. He should have been. By all rights, he should have been terrified. He couldn't tell himself they had faced worse odds before. He couldn't tell himself that Jim would rescue him, because Jim was right beside him.

But he didn't think twice about it. He was where he belonged, by the side of his sentinel, and his friends. They would die together or they would live together, and whichever one it ended up being, at that moment it didn't matter.

Naomi hadn't even said anything. She had watched the four determined men march off without a word to her son, with only a small wave and a look in her eyes that he could still see in his mind. She had only stopped her gathering briefly, looking up from the pile of hatchets, a couple of axes, and a crow bar to watch them go, before immediately returning to her work.

Now Blair could hear the sounds behind him as the residents of the commune, the ones who were brave enough to come out knowing defeat was completely probable, attacked the planks of the bridge. Simon and Joel were there, axes in hand, leading the destruction, hardly able to look at the backs of their friends.

Brown, Rafe, Jim, and Blair stopped in sight of the bridge, almost at the beginning of where the rocks came together to give such a narrow path. And they could see as the men who were hunting the communers became aware of what was happening, and, already ready for the raid, appeared out of trees on either side, gathering in front of them.

Blair took it in with wide eyes. Sam had been right. Dozens of men were appearing, coming together, armed with guns, knives, anything he could have imagined. They moved as a group, entering the narrow path and stopping a few yards from the four men.

"What is this?" One man, slightly cleaner and more distinguished in bearing, suddenly yelled to them.

The other three remained silent, letting Rafe answer. "You're not going to kill these people," he said simply.

The speaker, obviously some kind of leader for the group, blinked in disbelief. And then roared with sudden laughter.

The men around him seemed to catch the joke, and the air was suddenly full of the great shouts of laughter of their foes.

The objects of their amusement stood, calm and silent, not moving an inch.

One man closer to the front nudged the next man. "Hey, don't worry, boss. We'll get em." The two, followed by two more, still chuckling, lined up to oppose the four officers.

While the men behind them still laughed, the four attacked, springing at their stubbron opponents.

Rafe and Brown took out their attackers simply, with well-practiced moves. Jim sent his own into dreamland just as fast, and then quickly struck the man Blair had already hit, knocking him into unconsciousness, knowing Blair would have trouble hitting the man once he was already down.

The laughter stopped then, and the mercenaries froze, looking around at each other. This wasn't the simple slaughter they imagined it would be. The narrow pass meant only four of them would be able to go at a time, and none of them were eager to be the next four.

Blair exchanged glances with the others- disbelief marked two of the faces, as he knew it was echoed on his own. This might work. The people behind them were pounding away at the bridge, and the men in front of them were too stunned to figure out what to do.

Only Rafe seemed unsurprised, even unconcerned with the way things were going.

Blair looked at Jim, saying so low he knew only the sentinel would hear it, "They aren't even pulling their guns."

It was true. The mercenaries seemed so dumbstruck it hadn't even occured to them to just pull out their guns and shoot them.

And then, frozen from his surprise, the man who had questioned them, the leader of the group, pushed his way to the front. A smile lit his face as he looked at the four men in front of him. he turned back to his own men and the smile was replaced with scorn. "So. You're all frozen with terror by four men? I hope you're brave enough to follow once I've cleared the way." Determined, he turned back to the men, drawing a large knife. With a low growl, he sprang, going right for Rafe, who he assumed, as spokesman, was in charge of the other three.

With one practiced sweep of his arm, Rafe knocked the knife away from it's designated mark. But the man behind it was moving with such momentum that he couldn't knock it away entirely. The knife point, aimed for the detective's heart, instead gashed his thigh.

At the sight of blood, the men behind him grew vocal again, cheering their leader on.

Rafe stumbled, puting an arm on Jim's shoulder o regain his balance. Then, before Jim or Brown could come to his defense, he straightened again, and threw himself on the leader, his face red with anger. He grabbed the arm that held the knife, and twisted it painfully, making the weapon fall from suddenly nerveless fingers. His leg was a streak as his knee surged up and connected with the man's groin.

Doubling over, suddenly flushing dark red, the man couldn't resist as Rafe swept his knife up, and with a growl of anger, drove it into his own leg, making an equal gash. Rafe threw the knife behind him, and reared back, his fist flying at the man's jaw.

That was all it took, the leader of the nercenaries dropped like a puppet with it's strings cut, collapsing in a heap.

Rafe stood over the unconscious man and glared over at the criminals. "This is the welcome we've got for you here. Leave these people alone. Or else who wants to be next?"

There was a brief standoff. The men closest to the front of the group tensed, wracked with indecision. Jim, Brown, and Blair came forward to rejoin Rafe, and there was a heavy silence.

Then, suddenly, a shout came from behind them. "The bridge is going! Jim, Brown, guys, get back here!"

Responding to Simon's panicked tone, Jim and Blair glanced at each other and wheeled, knowing that once the bridge was out they may as well kiss their lives goodbye. Without a way out, the mercenaries would simply have to file in and edge them into the water below.

Blair felt the boards in the bridge cracking beneath his feet. He froze, his eyes going immediately, stupidly, to the water below him. Jim stopped in his tracks and started back for him, but Henri Brown got to him first, coming up from behind the younger man and pushing him quickly to the other side of the bridge. It started to give way beneath them, and they let out equal sounds of relief when their feet toughed firm ground. Turning back to watch it fall, Jim stiffened. "Rafe!"

The wounded detective had started running, but quickly realized his leg, pumping blood from the deep gash, wouldn't allow him to make it in time. So he turned back, facing the mercenaries again, ready to fight off anyone who tried to go after his friends.

Brown and Blair jerked their heads back at Jim's gasp, and Brown immediately started forward, ready to help his partner back, or die with him.

But the creaking grew into crashes as the bridge gave way, falling almost underneath Brown's foot, collapsing with a thunderous noise into the river below.

Jim lunged forward, grabbing Henri before he lost his balance and fell after the old wood.

Brown pushed against Jim, not even fully realizing what had happened. "No! Rafe!"

Rafe heard his shout, and glanced back to see with relief that all three had made it safely before the bridge had collapsed. He turned back again to see his opponents recovering from their surprise and grinning. "You're going down, mister," one of them commented as they started edging forward.

With a quick move, Rafe turned back to the other side, glancing down at the water below. There was a steep, rocky incline leading up to the ground his friends now stood on, but he hesitated, for the same reason the mercenaries would not simply go up the incline to get to the commune- the river. It wasn't exceptionally wide, but it was churning, moving quickly, angrily breaking against rocks. No one in their right mind would try to cross it.

He met the eyes of his partner across the way, and heard the approaching footsteps behind him. He drew in a deep breath. "Aww. Christ." With a sudden move, he plunged off the incline into the water below.

"Rafe!" Brown screamed after him. Without a pause, he, Jim, and Blair, followed quickly by Simon and Joel, started stumbling their way down the rocks towards the river.

The mercenaries were once again frozen with surprise. Now, without an enemy to fight, without a leader to tell them what to do, they slowly backed off, vanishing into the woods, going back where they'd come from. No job was worth this, they had decided suddenly, still seeing the man who had faced them down jumping to the killer currents below.

The communers, who had only stopped cheering their accomplishment with the bridge when they had seen the one man who still remained on the other side, were alos frozen, gaping down at the river, and at the five men who were now slipping their way down.

Brown never took his eyes off the water as he moved, searching eagerly for a sign his partner was still in the game. Suddenly he felt a surge of joy as a dark form appeared in the water ahead of them. He put on speed, not caring if he fell down the loose gravel of the slop into the water.

And then he was at the shore, and he could hear the others coming behind him. "Jim!" he called, reaching a hand behind him.

Jim grasped it immediately, knowing what Henri had in mind, and stretched his own out for Blair to grab. Forming a chain, the four officers supported Brown as he waded into the water. his feet were quickly pushed out from under him, and only his hold on Jim's hand kept him from floating away. Jim entered the water next, then Blair, until Simon and Joel were gasping with the exertion it took to fight the river for three men.

And then Brown reached Rafe, caught up against a rock. He snaked his free hand around his partner's body, and felt himself being pulled back as Simon and Joel saw that Rafe was with him. Soon Blair was up and helping to pull, then Jim, and finally they got Rafe to shore.

Brown collapsed, exhausted, into the rocks next to Rafe. His partner was pale, unconscious, his leg still bleeding.

Joel quickly went to his side and examined him. "I think,' he gasped out, still breathing heavily from the exertion of fighting the river. "He's just in shock."

Brown breathed out in relief just as his partner, to confirm Joel's diagnosis, gasped in suddenly, sitting up with a hoarse cry.

"Easy, Rafe," Brown put a hand on his arm, and watched the terror in Rafe's face vanish.

"H-Henri?"

"Jesus Christ, you scared me!" Brown, overcome with relief, punched him in the arm lightly.

Rafe blinked shocked eyes at him. "We did it? It worked?"

Jim crouched on his other side. "It worked, Rafe."

The younger man's face lit into a smile, all traces of pain and shock vanishing as he beamed around at his friends. "It worked!" He laughed giddily. "Maybe next time you'll listen to me when I come up with a plan,"

"I don't think my nerves could take another of your plans," Simon retorted. He then held out a hand to help the detective up. Rafe stumbled to his feet, almost falling as he tried to put weight on his hurt leg. "Easy, Rafe. We've got you."

Rafe let Simon and Brown support him as they turned back to the incline. He groaned when he saw the steep, slippery hill they would have to climb. "Uh, guys, why don't we just make camp here for a while?"

"Don't worry, Rafe," Blair answered as they started carefully up the slope. "We're right beside you." His eyes were glowing as he glanced over at Jim.

Above them, seeing the six men coming back up the slope, the silent communers burst into cheers.

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