This story started out to be one that was really to focus on two characters that I created in "When the Student is Ready." So, it would be a very good idea to read that story first to know how Veronica Charbonneau and Doug Turner entered and became a part of Jim and Blair's lives. However, as many writers in our fan fiction realm know, plot bunnies have a propensity of evolving into very different rabbits and this blasted hare of mine decided that Jim and Blair also needed to have a better understanding of their partnership. Hence, the story's title.

The story has some violence and some graphic descriptions as well as a little rough language, so I'd give it a rating of PG-13.

There are a couple of spoilers, Secret and Neighborhood Watch for sure. Also, there are some references to things that happened in The Switchman and Sentinel, Too. Other than that, I'm not sure. You'll recognize them if there are.

A large Thank You to Zerena, my beta, for putting up with me and not fighting me too hard over my idiosyncrasies and grammar. She's been absolutely marvelous for finding and politely pointing out bad habits I have with my writing. I blame that on living in Illinois for too many years and you can't get rid of the Midwestern style of speech that quickly.

Another Thank You to Cindy Combs for helping me figure out the timeline in the story and for pointing out a few things that I didn't but should have thought of. She's also to blame for the length. I've been hanging out with her too much. *grin*

Enjoy and let me know what you think, good or bad.

EQUAL PARTNERS

Shallan

Cascade, Washington -- Early morning

The classic, 1969 blue and white Ford truck pulled carefully out of the underground garage onto the adjoining, fairly empty street. The dawn hour was too early for many to be on the road. The driver rubbed at his eyes, trying to keep alert for the short drive home. He and his partner, the passenger, had just completed their shift and the last day of a night duty rotation with the Cascade police department. Both men were tired and ready for the time off that lay ahead.

"Ah, man, Jim. I didn't think last night would ever end," Blair Sandburg groaned, stretching as far as he could in the confines of the truck cab. He heard a couple of muffled pops emanate from his spine area. "When we get home, I think I'm just going to hibernate in my room for the next 36 hours."

"Hmm," came the reply from the driver, Jim Ellison. The older man was paying close attention to the road and the few cars around them. He didn't even glance over at his passenger.

"Okay, we're reduced to grunting," Blair commented quietly, though he knew his partner could hear his words clearly. With a barely discernable shrug, he picked up the newspaper he'd grabbed on the way out of the bullpen and flipped through the sections until he found the sports page.

Ellison glanced over at his partner then quickly turned his attention back to the road. He wasn't trying to be rude to Sandburg. It was just that he was almost too tired to be driving, much less trying to talk. The shift they'd just finished hadn't been that difficult, either. It just seemed like it had lasted forever. Glancing back over to his silent companion, Ellison silently promised that the two of them would get plenty of rest over the next couple of days and talk about anything but work. Maybe even take in a Jags game, if he could get the tickets.

Stopping at an intersection, Jim had just flipped the turn signal on when Blair roused back alert and noticed their surroundings.

"Oh hey, Jim. Don't turn here."

When there wasn't any further instructions, Jim turned to his friend. "And? If I don't turn here, we'll hit the school traffic and won't get home for another hour."

"If you do turn, we won't have milk, coffee and other stuff we're all out of. We need to hit the store, man." Blair gave his friend a cheeky smile.

"Groceries. Right," Jim answered. Flipping the signal back off, Jim stepped on the gas pedal, causing the truck to surge forward once the light had changed.

"Are you all right, Jim?" Concern could be easily heard in Blair's voice. He had noticed the way Jim had been rubbing his eyes and sat with his body hunched in a protective manner. Both familiar signs that his friend needed some down time.

"Yeah. Sorry, Chief. I'm just a little..." Ellison waved his hand around, trying to emphasize how he felt. When he couldn't think of the word, he pulled his hand back and wiped it over his face again.

Blair relaxed when he heard coherent words. "Wiped. I'm with you on that. Listen, it'll only take about ten minutes, okay? Just long enough to get in and out. We'll do a full restock tomorrow or the day after."

The sought after store was only a couple of blocks ahead and Jim quickly pulled his truck into the near empty parking lot. Luckily, it was a 24-hour grocery and even luckier, the lack of cars in the parking lot meant few or no customers which would allow the two men to get in and out quickly.

Entering the store, Blair pointed toward the dairy section across the building and mumbled, "I'll get the milk and cold stuff on that side."

With a nod of understanding, Jim turned to the right and started down the nearest aisle. He picked up a hand basket on his way and automatically started to load it as he came upon those items he remembered they were running low or were completely out, forgetting that the object of this visit was just necessities.

Jim was at the back of the store looking over the fruit display when he picked up a nervous voice demanding money. Tilting his head, he focused his hearing toward the front of the store.

"Come on. Hand it over!" the young male voice demanded. There was a tremor in the tone, showing that the speaker was nervous or afraid.

Quietly setting the basket down, Ellison pulled his weapon and slowly made his way up the nearest aisle in the direction of the voice. As he approached the front, he automatically listened for his partner. Jim was hoping that Blair wouldn't just stumble into the situation. Hearing his friend moving toward the front of the store, he realized he was hoping in vain.

Blair rounded the corner of an aisle and walked toward the cash register, his attention on the milk carton in his hand. When he was in full view, he looked up to see a nervous young male pointing a small handgun at the older man behind the checkout counter. The youth's eyes opened wide in fear when he saw Blair and turned the gun in his direction.

"Don't move!" the kid yelled.

Blair froze for a moment then slowly moved his hands out away from his body. "Whoa! Stay calm, man. I'm a statue here."

The gun barrel wavered slightly as the boy quickly swung his gaze from Blair to the guy behind the counter and back again. He wet his lips nervously. "I just need some cash. I don't want to hurt anyone, so get the drawer opened, mister."

Blair looked at the man at the register and, seeing that he was paying attention, nodded carefully. At that signal, the man started to press buttons on the machine to make the cash drawer open.

Seeing the man following his direction, Blair returned his gaze to the youth. "You know, you've already hurt someone," he voiced calmly.

Hearing the words, the kid jerked his gaze from watching the register back to Blair. "Wh...what do you mean? I ain't hurt nobody."

Sliding a foot forward carefully, Sandburg took a cautious step, then stopped. "Yes, you have," he contradicted, his voice pitched to a level he normally used when talking to his angry partner or irate boss. "You're hurting yourself right now by doing this. You're hurting your friends and family, too."

"What are you sayin'?"

"When the cops come after you for this, and they will, your family and friends will have to decide on whether they'll support your choice to do this or turn you in. It'll hurt them to have to make that decision." Blair took another hesitant step forward. "You're hurting yourself 'cause you're throwing whatever future you had right into the gutter. Once you step out that door, you're a criminal. And since you used a gun, you'll be considered armed and dangerous. Any life you dreamed of will disappear."

The kid stared at the longhaired man in front of him, confused at what he was hearing. He didn't notice when the man behind the counter stopped working on opening the register and carefully reached down to press the button for the silent alarm.

Sandburg slid another step forward and, out of the corner of his eye, he could see his partner crouching slightly near the end of an aisle. "I've got him, Jim," he whispered, barely moving his lips, then focused on the young man again.

"Do you really want to keep hurting those you care about?" Seeing the kid slowly lowering the gun, Blair smiled warmly. "I knew you were too smart for something like this. Just put your gun down on the counter and walk out."

The kid continued to lower his weapon, confused by what this guy was telling him. His hand was only a few inches away from the counter when the sound of a siren split the air. Whipping his head around in fear, he brought the gun back up. "What did you do!" he screamed at the man behind the counter.

"It's just the cops, man." Blair raised his hands higher and took a large step toward the youth. He raised his voice to bring the kids attention back to him. "You still have a chance to change things!"

The young robber stared at Sandburg. His gun was once again leveled at the longhaired man in front of him, but indecision could be seen in his eyes.

"Trust me," Blair pleaded softly, reaching out with his empty hand. The other, holding the milk carton, stayed out away from his body. He was just starting to move closer when he saw his partner start to move.

"FREEZE!" Ellison yelled, stepping around the end of the aisle and pointing his own weapon at the youth.

The kid whirled back around in the direction of the yell and, unfortunately, also swung his gun. Seeing the large man pointing a gun at him, he snarled and raised his own, pulling back the hammer.

Blair tried to say 'no', but Jim had already focused his eyesight on the barrel of the robber's weapon and fired. The bullet smashed into the opening, splitting the barrel and slamming the gun back into the kid's hand. The force of the action jammed the kid's hand back into his wrist, snapping it, and breaking several bones in the hand at the same time. The youth screamed in pain and fell to the floor clutching his damaged appendage.

Before anyone could move, the door to the store slammed open and two uniformed officers positioned themselves at the edges, one standing and the other squatting low. Their arms holding their weapons and a small portion of their bodies were visible. "Don't anyone move!" the one standing ordered. She was obeyed.

An officer crawled into the back of the ambulance, following after the gurney holding his prisoner. The young robber moaned as the shifting of the vehicle caused by the entrance of the officer jiggled his damaged arm. The paramedics had splinted and wrapped the appendage, but they held off giving the kid anything for pain, since he refused to answer their questions about any recent drug usage.

Ellison finished giving his statement to the other officer, then walked over to where Sandburg was standing near his truck. He could tell by the expression on the smaller man's face that he wasn't happy. Stopping in front of Blair, Jim tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and waited.

Finally, Blair spoke up. "I had it under control, Jim."

"He was pointing a loaded weapon at you, Chief. He was upset by the arrival of the officers and becoming more agitated. I had to step in and take him down."

"No you didn't, man. If you had any confidence in me, you would've let me take care of it. He was listening to me and ready to surrender his gun."

"He was going to shoot you, Sandburg."

Blair slammed his hand against the truck in explosive anger. "You don't know that! I could see his face and his eyes. He was listening to me! But no, you just couldn't wait and let someone else handle the situation. You had to step in and take control. As usual!"

"What do you mean 'as usual'. I wasn't taking con--"

"Yes, you were! You always have to be the one in the lead, Jim. Always in control of the situation or else you find a way to take control of it, especially when I'm involved. I thought that when I became your 'official' partner, you'd start to back off on this habit and let me take the point when I'm in the right position. I'm not just 'the observer' anymore. I am a fully qualified detective."

His face not displaying the anger he felt inside, Ellison turned and started to step around his truck toward the driver's side. "Sandburg, this is not the place to discuss this. Get in and we'll talk about it when we get home."

Moving quickly, Blair stepped around and into Jim's path, placing a hand onto the man's chest to stop him. "No. This is the best place to discuss this, while it's still fresh. We wait until the loft and you'll find someway to avoid it completely. Why didn't you let me handle the situation, Jim?"

"Sandburg," Ellison growled, staring down into his partner's face. Blair didn't move. He continued to glare up at his taller friend, determination clearly in his eyes.

"This is ridiculous, Chief," Jim finally said and shifted around Blair toward his truck door.

"If that's the way you feel, then here, Jim." Grabbing his partner's arm, Blair swung the taller man around and grabbed his hand. In it he placed the wallet holding his badge he had just pulled out of his pants pocket. Reaching behind his back, he also pulled out his handcuffs and placed them on top. "Since you don't think I can handle myself in situations like this, maybe you should hold onto these until you feel I am capable. Oh, and my piece is in my backpack. You should take that with you, too."

Jim jerked his hand away, but kept hold of the items. "You're being an ass about this, Chief. I do think you're able to do your job. Now take these back and get in the truck. We're both tired and not thinking right."

Blair turned to look at the crime scene, then back up at his partner. Schooling the expression on his face into one of calm, he finally said, "Actions speak louder than words, Jim." Then he turned and started to walk up the block and away from the scene.

"Sandburg! Where in the hell are you going? Get back here or I'm leaving you behind and you can walk home."

Blair whirled around and kept walking, backwards. He held his arms out away from his body, palms facing upward. "I'm too pissed right now to talk, man. But hey, don't worry about me. I am perfectly capable of at least finding my way home, or don't you trust me with this either?" Dropping his arms back down, Blair swung back around and tucked his hands into his coat. As he walked away, his head was drooped and his body hunched over, either to ward of the chill in the air or in despair.

"You stubborn little ass," Jim finally said out loud, watching Blair walk around the police personnel to get through the parking lot and onto the sidewalk.

Apparently it was loud enough for the younger man to hear, since a quiet reply of "takes one to know one, man" floated back. Hearing that, Jim spun around and stalked to the door of his truck, flung it open, climbed in and slammed it shut. For several long seconds, the detective just sat and stared out the front windshield. Looking up into his rearview mirror, he focused his eyesight onto the departing figure of his partner. The young man continued walking away, his attention focused on the ground in front of him.

"Be that way," Ellison grumbled and pulled his keys from his jacket pocket. Starting the truck, he slammed the gearshift into drive and stomped on the gas pedal. With a squeal of tires, the truck jerked out of its parking space and was swung around until it reached the entrance of the lot. Not pausing long enough to really check for on coming traffic, Ellison again hit the gas and sped out onto the street and in the direction of the loft. As he passed Sandburg, he didn't even glance at the walking man.

Looking up to see Jim's truck speed passed, Blair dropped his head back down and continued walking. Though he might regret it all by the time he reached the loft, Blair figured that he scored a minor victory. He was able to point out his partner's habit, conscious or unconscious, to relegate Blair back to the role of observer. Now he just had to endure the long walk home. At least there was a Starbucks on the way.

At the Loft -- Late morning

Slamming the door behind him after entering the loft, Ellison threw his keys onto the nearby table and tossed the backpack he carried in under the coat rack. Dragging the stocking cap off his head, he stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket before removing and hanging it up. Stalking into the kitchen area, he opened the top part of the refrigerator, pulled out the package of coffee beans and started the process to brew himself a pot of coffee. The clock on the coffeemaker indicated that it was 10:22 am. Although he had gotten off from work a while ago and really should be getting ready for bed, it was morning and Jim knew that going through the preparation ritual as well as having at least one cup would calm him considerably.

~You always have to be the one in the lead, Jim. Always in control of the situation or else you find a way to take control of it, especially when I'm involved.~

"What in the hell was he talking about. I do NOT have to always be in control," Ellison muttered to himself as he hit the button on the grinder. The loudness of the machine and the beans being ground made him wince and automatically dial back his hearing. He had no idea why he had it up anyway.

Maybe to listen for your partner? Jim's head jerked up. Where did that thought come from? With a shake of his head, he turned his attention back to his makings and poured the fragrant grounds into the coffeemaker's basket. After pouring in the prescribed amount of water and starting the brew cycle, he walked over to the table, took off his weapon and handcuffs and set them down. Digging into his back pocket, he also pulled out his badge and placed it beside the other items. Looking over at the backpack sitting under the coat rack, he remembered stuffing Sandburg's badge and handcuffs into it after he had pulled up to his building.

~Since you don't think I can handle myself in situations like this, maybe you should hold onto these until you feel I am capable. Oh, and my piece is in my backpack. You should take that with you, too.~

I do NOT think you are incapable, Chief. Damn it! I didn't do anything wrong. Ellison thought angrily and started walking toward the stairs that led to his room. I am not going to feel guilty about this. I'll just get my shower, have my coffee with something to eat and go to bed. If you take all morning to get here, Sandburg, then that's your fault.

With that final resolve in his mind, Jim walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

By the time he arrived at the Starbucks coffee shop, Blair was almost at the point of regretting his earlier action and decision. The wind had been at his face practically the whole way and, as usual for this time of the year, a steady drizzle had started after he had traveled about a block. So, despite wearing his winter coat, he was quite damp and thoroughly chilled by the time he stepped through the doors. Of course, since it was morning, the shop was packed with people wanting their daily 'fix' of caffeine or whatever they used to handle the day.

Blair waited almost 30 minutes before he reached the counter and give his order. Deciding he deserved a treat after what he'd been through, he ordered a large double mocha latte with cinnamon. In a moment of weakness, he also ordered a couple of almond Biscotti and dug into his pocket for his wallet. When he didn't find it, Blair started to check other pockets. He froze in his actions when he realized he didn't have it. As usual, it was in his backpack and that was probably still sitting in Jim's truck outside of the loft.

Just as he was about to cancel his order, a familiar voice spoke up from behind. "I'll take care of that."

Swiveling his head around, Blair broke into a broad smile. It was Doug Turner, companion and significant other of Veronica Charbonneau, his teacher of shamanism. "Doug! Hey, man. How are you doing? Is Roni with you? When did you get back into town?" Turning around, he stuck out his hand to clasp the one extended toward him and looked around for the man's female partner.

Doug Turner had stepped into Blair's life several months ago when his fledgling abilities that were developing as Shaman to his Sentinel, Jim Ellison, started to go rogue. While Doug didn't do anything directly to assist him control what he had, Blair counted the man as a true friend. The older, graying man had listened to Blair during his time of confusion and acted like he understood the younger man's uncertainty with his abilities and what it felt like to be in the shadow of one's partner.

"Hi, Blair. I spied your curly head amidst the crowd when I was walking past and something told me to come in. I'll have a cup of Morning Blend, black and standard size, please," Turner ordered politely to the waiting worker behind the counter. Pulling out his own wallet, he ignored the stuttering refusal for help from the smaller man. Placing a several bills onto the counter, he accepted his cup of coffee and, with a slight jerk of his head to indicate 'follow me', walked toward a table in the corner of the store. The current occupants were pulling on their coats and getting ready to leave.

Staring for several seconds at the departing figure, Blair was jerked back to awareness by the woman behind the counter shaking his bag of Biscottis at him. Picking up his own cup and taking possession of the bag, Blair swung around and bumped into a large man pushing past toward the counter. The lid on his cup had not been pressed securely down and popped off, splashing hot coffee. Luckily, nothing spilled onto the man's leather coat. Unluckily, the hot beverage did slosh onto Blair's hand and the sleeve of his own jacket.

"Ow! Damn!" he hissed in pain. Moving quickly toward the table now occupied by Turner, Sandburg hurriedly set down his cup and accepted the napkins being offered by the other. "Ah, man. Can anything else happen to make this day more complete?"

"Are you okay? Let me take a look at that," Turner offered.

"Nah, I'm okay. Just a minor third degree burn that will probably scar me for life," Sandburg tried to joke as he carefully dabbed at the injured hand. Sitting down across from his friend, Blair tried to change the subject. "Thanks for showing up, Doug. I'll pay you back if you'll follow me back to the loft. I, ah, must have left my wallet there last night."

"I didn't notice your car. Just getting off work or heading in?" Doug asked, taking a sip from his cup. His tone indicated that the question asked more than what the words implied.

Blair looked up from his hand into the soft hazel eyes peering innocently at him. He knew that the other suspected something was wrong, but wasn't going to ask what was really on the tip of his tongue. Not really wanting to talk about the problem at this time, Blair pasted a relaxed smile on his face and said, "Getting off. We've been working nights for the past several days and I needed something special this morning to help unwind. But what are you doing around here? The last I remember, you and Roni were over in Colorado for a few months finally taking a vacation."

Turner allowed the change in the subject. "Oh, we did and it was great. Hiked around for a bit, but couldn't go down around Mesa Verde because of the fires. Roni really wanted to go there and 'feel' the place out, but I was able to convince her that meditating in the middle of a forest fire is not a smart thing to do. So we just traveled around the state."

"Probably one of the few times you were able to change her mind. Once that lady sets her mind on something..."

Turner laughed. He knew that Sandburg was not saying anything derogatory about his partner. "Oh, she's not that bull-headed." At the other's snort of amusement, Doug held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, when her inner voice tells her to do something or to go to a certain place, it does take a lot to convince her otherwise. Luckily, that wasn't the case this time. How's the hand?"

Blair held out the appendage. There was a deep red patch along the back of the hand, thumb and wrist where the hot liquid had fallen. Some of the areas looked like they just might blister. He blew on it softly to provide temporary relief. "It stings quite a bit and it's throbbing, but I've got some stuff at home I can put on it that will draw out the heat and hopefully prevent it from blistering. But you didn't say why you were back."

"Oh, yeah, we got called in on a situation and Roni had to be downtown at an ungodly hour this morning. Since I didn't need to sit in on the meetings, I told her that I would check out the town and see if there was anything new going on. Is there? Anything new going on, that is."

"In Cascade? The city that's probably the most dangerous one in the country outside of New York?" Blair laughed, but it was a humorless chuckle. "We've been getting hints of something going on that involves the feds; probably the same thing that brought you here. But hey, this isn't the place to discuss it. Other than that, it has been quiet, knock on wood." Blair rapped on the table, using the old action to ward away bad luck.

Doug copied him. "Agreed. Hey, would you like a ride home?" he asked, seeing Blair stifle a yawn for the fourth time. "My car is just a couple of blocks away and I can get you to the loft before you nod off on me here."

"That'd be great, man. I don't know why I thought I could walk all the way home," Blair answered, rubbing his good hand over his face. Without thinking, he'd let slip that something had definitely happened to put him afoot and that the choice had been his.

Buttoning his jacket up tighter, Turner stopped at the door and peered out. "Has it stopped raining?"

"It's winter in Cascade, Doug. It's almost always doing something that is very wet," Blair grumbled, rolling up the bag holding his biscuits and tucking it into a pocket. He decided to save the confections until after he got home and got some sleep.

Turner laughed at the tone the other used and opened the door to let him exit first. His friend was struggling with holding his half-filled cup with his good hand while he tried to adjust his coat around his body with the injured one. "I've never spent a full winter here, kid. Roni always finds a way to be somewhere warm during these months. She's the smarter one and I've learned to listen to her ideas."

"Must be nice," Blair voiced quietly.

Hearing the comment, Turner gave the smaller man a light pat on the back. He then shifted to Sandburg's side and led the way down the block. Neither man noticed the old, tan van a short way up the street start up and pull away from the curb to follow them.

The two walked comfortably for a couple of blocks until Doug indicated the need for them to turn at the corner. He pointed to the two-story parking garage and patted around his pockets for his keys and the parking stub. Blair touched his arm to get his attention back, then pointed to the small store attached to the garage.

"I'm going to make a real quick pit stop, Doug. The latte has gone straight through me and I'm not sure you'd want to risk your vehicle on the hopes that I have a strong bladder."

"No problem. I parked the Jeep on the second level, right next to the stairs. If you wait down here, I can just--"

"It won't take that long. I'll meet you up there, okay?" Before the other could answer, Blair jogged over to the donut shop's door and entered.

Turner stood still for several seconds, watching the door close behind Sandburg. "I know there is something happening with you, my friend," he mumbled. "I would love to have Roni's ability right now to be able to learn what it is." Shaking his head, Doug tucked his hands into his pockets and entered the stairway door. The van that had been following pulled past the opening slowly, then sped up to turn the corner and head for the entrance.

Sandburg finished his business as soon as possible and quickly ran up the stairs to the second level of the garage. When he stepped out of the stairwell, he saw Turner digging through the back of his vehicle and quickly walked over. The sound of tires screeching and the acceleration of an engine made him turn around sharply to see a van halt near them. Blair took a step toward it in surprise, but halted suddenly when the side door of the vehicle flew open and a man stood there pointing a large handgun at him.

Raising his hands in surrender, Blair unconsciously shifted over until he was between the threatening man and Doug. "Easy there, man. We can do this peacefully and no one will get hurt. Just leave my friend out of this." His mind raced furiously, trying to think just what he'd been involved with recently to cause someone to want to come after him.

Just as he opened his mouth to raise a question, another man leaped out of the passenger side of the van, grabbed him by an arm and forced him face first into the side of the vehicle. "Shut up!" the man ordered. "I don't know who you are, but you made the mistake of hanging around the wrong man. Move and I'll blow a knee cap off." With a final shove against Blair's back, the man turned back around and started toward Doug, his free hand pulling plastic riot cuffs from his pocket. The man in the van leaned into the door so that he could point his weapon at Blair and keep him covered.

"Who are you?" Turner asked, stepping back from the man advancing on him.

"Mr. Rinaldi would like you to be his guest, at least until your lady decides to turn down the employment she's being offered and joins you." The man continued to advance, tucking his gun into his pocket. He smiled when Turner stopped moving and didn't flinch away when the other grabbed his right arm and pulled him forward.

But the smile turned into an expression of surprise when Turner dropped his facade of meekness and jerked back out of the hold. Shoving his left arm forward, he slammed the flat of his hand into the man's chest and followed it with a right cross. Unfortunately, the punch didn't do too much damage as the man was able to recover quickly and dodge just enough so that Turner's fist only grazed his jaw. With a growl, he charged at his quarry.

Hearing that Doug was not going to be taken quietly, Blair looked over and saw that the man covering him was now paying attention to the scuffle. Taking advantage of the situation, Blair shifted over and grabbed the arm hanging partially out of the van with the gun pointed towards the fighting pair. Giving it a quick jerk, he pulled the gunman forward and off balance. The man landed on the ground, losing his weapon in the process. Blair pounced onto his back and grabbed one of the man's arms, twisting it up behind his back. Looking over at his friend, Blair could see him struggling with the other assailant. He winced when he saw Doug take a punch in the face that knocked him back into the cement wall. Seeing that his friend was losing the battle, Blair leaned forward to pick up the gun his prisoner lost.

He froze when he felt the cold metal of a muzzle jammed into his neck and heard the ominous click of a hammer being locked back. He hadn't counted on there being a third person in the van. Carefully raising his hands in surrender, he looked over to where he'd last seen Doug. Seeing his friend lying unconscious on the ground with his hands being bound, Blair sagged in defeat and shifted off the man he'd brought down. He saw a bright flash of stars, then nothing more when something hard slammed across the back of his head.

At the Loft -- Late afternoon

Jim Ellison jerked back to awareness; not sure what caused him to awaken. He'd been resting on the couch, having just finished breakfast and reading the newspaper when, before he knew it, he'd had fallen asleep. It hadn't been a restful sleep; the scene in the grocery store had played a couple of times in his head. Only this time, the outcome of the situation had been different. One time, the kid had used his gun to shoot the store clerk and the other time he had shot Sandburg. But that wasn't really what bothered him about the dreams. After the second dream, Simon Banks, his Captain, had asked why hadn't he taken the shot at the robber when he had the chance. It was after that one Ellison had awakened.

Sitting back up, he checked his watch and saw that it was 3:37, over five hours since he'd gotten home. An ache radiated from the back of his head and down his neck. Thinking he'd just slept at a wrong angle, Jim rubbed at the spot and looked around the loft. Not seeing his roommate's coat hanging from its usual place beside the door, he tilted his head to listen. Jim didn't hear any of the telltale sounds that would indicate that his roommate was there. Extending his hearing further, all he could pick up were the normal daytime sounds that were common around his building.

"Damn it, Chief," he muttered as he stood up to stretch. Knowing his friend hadn't made it home, he'd never be able to get back to sleep. Especially after that dream. Jim stumbled into the kitchen and started the process of making another pot of coffee. He'd left nearly a half a pot from what he'd made earlier, expecting Blair to show up needing something to warm himself after the chilly walk. Since he hadn't, Jim decided that he'd rather have a fresh cup rather than drink the older stuff and dumped out the remainder.

He was just about to push the button to start the water through the machine when his hearing picked up the sound of the outer door to the building banging open. Listening closer, he could hear the person running up the stair to each floor until they reached the third. By the sound of the footfalls, it wasn't Sandburg. The tread was too light and the sound of the shoe was not even close to being his either. Hearing the individual moving purposefully toward the loft door, Jim quickly hit the 'On' button on the coffeemaker and went over to the door, opening it before the other could knock.

"Roni?" Ellison asked, surprised. Standing in his doorway, looking a little frantic, was Veronica Charbonneau. A self-proclaimed teacher of mystical arts, she'd helped Sandburg harness the shaman abilities he'd been developing since accepting his place at Jim's side as his Shaman. She still maintained contact with the two men, providing guidance, training and support with their developing bond. The tall redhead was dressed in a stunning cream outfit that spoke of her having just come from something important or getting ready to go. "Come in. Is something wrong?"

Roni took a quick look into the loft before stepping through the doorway and past Jim. She closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath before rousing her attention back to her surroundings. "I was... Have you... You know, I'm not sure why I'm here. I had a meeting this morning and was supposed to meet Doug over an hour ago. But he didn't show. I just..." Roni rubbed her fingers across her forehead and over to her temples, where she massaged the area with gentle circles. "Something told me I had to come over here and see you."

Taking the woman gently by the arm, Ellison led her into the kitchen area and eased her down into a chair. Pulling out another chair, he sat down. "Something told you to come here. Why?"

"That's just it. I'm not really sure and that is what has me a little concerned. Normally, my... feelings are pretty concrete and I know why I need to be somewhere. But with the meeting I was just in and Doug not showing up, I needed to talk to someone and you were the first person who came to my mind." Roni looked around the loft and noticed something, someone missing. "Is Blair here?"

Standing back up, Ellison strode back over toward the coffeepot. "No." Not wanting to talk about what had happened between him and his partner, he busied himself with preparing two cups of coffee. "Do you take milk, sugar or honey?" he asked, carrying the two mugs over to the table.

"Nothing, thank you. What happened? You two get into an argument again?" Roni knew she'd hit the nail on the head when the tall man dropped his head toward his coffee mug and his jaw muscle twitched. With an exasperated sigh, she took her coffee and sat back to wait out an answer to her question. It didn't take long.

"It was just a stupid misunderstanding. We'd just gotten off work and stopped to pick up some groceries. Unfortunately, this kid decided to rob the place and I stopped him from shooting anyone. But Sandburg didn't see it that way. We argued, he got angry and decided to walk the rest of the way home." Ellison kept his gaze down at his mug during the whole explanation. When he glanced up at the end, the green eyes staring at him were full of questions. "~ahem~ That was about 5 hours ago. I was going to go and backtrack in a bit to see if he was ready for a lift."

Roni continued to watch the man across from her. She could easily read the guilt his whole body radiated. It was obvious the situation at the store wasn't as simple as what Jim described. "There's more, isn't there?" she asked quietly.

Jim hesitated for a moment, not sure if he wanted to voice the conversation he'd had with himself concerning the argument with his partner. Roni's calm expression of understanding made his mind up. "Maybe I do have this tendency to be a little bit protective with Sandburg when he's involved in hazardous situations. Like you, something tells me when something's wrong. I've almost 10 years experience as a detective and more as an officer in the Army. He barely has one year under his belt and is a little naive with certain situations. Hell, he's a lot naive when you really look at it. And the guy has had more things happen to him in the time he's been with me that would have the hardiest people run away screaming their heads off. But he's stayed with me... through everything. Maybe that's why I tend--"

"So what is the voice within you saying this time; about what is happening now?" Roni interrupted.

Ellison looked up sharply. A nagging feeling had been growing in the back of his mind ever since he'd awakened on the couch. The question just asked made the feeling become more pronounced and confirmed his resolve to learn its cause. Allowing his eyes to lose focus and reaching within, he felt for the bond that connected the Sentinel to his Shaman.

In the past, Jim had maintained a constant monitor of the metaphysical 'tether' he had with Blair. It was comforting and gave him a peace of mind that he'd never had before, knowing he was not alone to face the price that came with being a Sentinel. The bond had also helped each during times when their lives had been in danger. He'd backed off from the constant monitoring several months ago after long discussions with Blair convincing him that he should do just that.

'Feeling' toward his friend, Ellison could tell that something was wrong. The bond led off to the east and showed him that Sandburg was traveling away from Cascade. He could also tell that his friend had some type of injury to the back of his head, in the same place that he'd been hurting when he'd awakened earlier, and that he was obviously scared. "There's trouble."

Roni had watched Jim carefully after she'd asked the earlier question. Knew that there was the special connection between the two men. Knew Jim would use more than just his cop instincts when it came to Blair. "What did you see?" she asked when Jim's light blue eyes came back into focus and flared with emotion.

Not answering, Ellison stood up and strode into the kitchen. Turning off the coffeepot, he took the decanter off the heating element, dumped the rest of the coffee and placed the pot into the sink. Then he moved over to reclaim his weapon, badge and handcuffs from the counter before going for his jacket to leave. He halted when Charbonneau stepped into his path, blocking the door.

"Going off half-cocked is not the way to handle this, Ellison. Tell me what you saw." Roni's green eyes seemed to blaze with almost an ethereal light.

Barely reining in his frustration, Jim started to step around the woman as he growled, "I don't 'see' things. It's feelings, mainly."

Roni shifted until she was again in Jim's path and crossed her arms across her chest. "Okay, then what are you feeling? And don't give me any bullshit like you can't describe it. I've worked with both of you long enough to know that you can tell whether Blair has indigestion or if he's been punched in the stomach."

Realizing that he wasn't going to get out of the loft unless he physically moved Charbonneau out of the way, and knowing that would be a fight and a half, Ellison stepped back, took a deep breath and felt along his connection to Sandburg again. "He's traveling away, out of town to the east. He'd been hit on the back of the head, but I don't feel like it's too bad. And he's awake and feeling scared... but, it doesn't feel like he's afraid for himself. It's for someone else."

"How do you know this?"

"It's deeper, more focused outward. Like when he's been afraid for me. Hell, I don't know how to tell you. It's just different."

With a nod, Roni turned around and opened the door. "Okay. I'll need to stop by my hotel and change my clothes. Let's go."

Jim grabbed the woman's arm, stopping her. "Let's?"

"You don't think I'm going to let you go after them by yourself, do you?" At Jim's raised eyebrow, Roni continued. "Doug's with him and I know now that whatever has happened has to do with my meeting this morning. There's no way I'm letting you go after him without me." With that, Roni whirled around and stormed out the door. Pausing only for a couple of seconds to watch the woman depart, Jim closed the door behind him and followed.

Dropping down into another rut in the road, the van dipped sharply to the left and tossed Blair against the side again. He hadn't been prepared this time and ended up with another sore spot on his skull and bruise on his back. Stifling a groan, he shifted until he was propped back up and able to reach his hands over toward the unconscious man lying in front of him.

Blair had been out only for a few moments, coming back awake after he'd been dumped unceremoniously into the van. When his head had cleared enough to realize his surroundings, he saw that his hands were bound tightly together in the front. Instead of one plastic cuff holding his two hands together, a single cuff encircled each wrist tightly and a third brought them together, allowing very little movement. Hampered by the way they were connected, both palms facing each other, Blair fumbled to get his fingers around the other's throat enough to feel the carotid artery. The pulse was increasing, an indication that his friend was waking up.

Doug had been unconscious ever since he had been tossed into the van. That alone caused Blair a great deal of concern, having experienced enough head injuries himself to know that the longer someone remains unconscious, the more serious the injury. He'd felt around the supine man's head and found a significant lump in the back that still leaked a little blood. Feeling a change in Doug's pulse brought a small amount of relief; which grew when his friend gave a small groan of pain and shifted his head back and forth. Doug brought his bound hands up towards his head.

"Shhh," Blair cautioned quietly, touching his fingers first across the other's lips then gently pushing the other's hands back down. Glancing toward the front of the van, he saw that the three men hadn't heard anything. The driver was concentrating on the 'road' they were traveling and the man on the passenger side was studying a map he held. The third guy sat propped on a toolbox between and behind the other two. He was leaning forward to also gaze at the map.

Looking back down, Blair saw that Doug had his eyes open, but they looked dazed. "Hey, man. How are you doing?" Blair asked softly.

Turner blinked his eyes rapidly and swiveled his head around to look at his surroundings, wincing at the pain radiating from the back and throughout his head. When he turned back, he saw Sandburg's anxious face. "Where..." he croaked, then wetted his lips and tried to speak again. "Where are we?"

"Not in Kansas, Toto," Blair answered, giving what he hoped was as encouraging smile. Keeping his voice low, he asked, "How does your head feel? Can you see okay?"

Turner closed his eyes. "Like I was slammed against a cement wall and things are a little fuzzy. How long?"

"A few hours. We've been driving on a rough road for about an hour and I think we're heading into the mountains. It's been getting colder and the air is thinner. Do you know what this is all about?"

"They say anything?" Doug asked, carefully tilting his head up just enough to see their captors.

"Larry made a call on his cell phone just after we left the regular road, but I haven't heard anything since the garage."

"Larry?"

"Yeah, I've named them after the Three Stooges. The dark-haired guy on the toolbox is Moe, Larry is in the passenger seat and Curly is the bald guy driving. Had to call them something. So who's this Mr. Rinaldi they were talking about and why does he want you?"

"Bad news all the way around. We've got to get away, Blair. Now!" Turner started to struggle upright, but had to stop when the throbbing in his head made him feel nauseous. He swallowed quickly to prevent losing the contents of his stomach.

"Hey, hey, easy there. Don't get spastic." Blair patted the man on the chest, glancing nervously over at the three at the front of the van.

"Sorry, sorry," Doug mumbled. Breathing deeply, he concentrated on relaxing to calm his stomach.

"We really don't want their attention. Or do we?" When Turner looked up at the question, Blair smiled. "How good are your acting abilities?"

"I don't know where we're going exactly, Simon," Jim tried to explain calmly to his boss on the other end of the cell phone. He had decided to call the precinct while he waited outside Roni's hotel. "The only thing I am sure about is that Sandburg's in trouble and it's taking him toward the mountains."

"This is one of those situations that have to do with that 'thing' you and the kid have, right?"

Ellison sighed quietly. He knew how hard a time he had had with trying to understand and believe the supernatural aspect of being a sentinel, even after being bonded to Sandburg. But the Captain had only a small brush with the macabre not that long ago and wasn't all that sure he wanted to be a part of the Ellison/Sandburg team that went beyond their police partnership. Unfortunately, as the Sentinel had found out, you often didn't have a choice in the matter.

"Frankly, I don't think it has to do completely with Sandburg, sir. I'm with Veronica Charbonneau and she's pretty sure her partner, Doug Turner, is the focus. Sandburg just happened to be in the same area, as usual. I haven't gotten the whole story yet, but I will before the day is out."

"So, how can I help?"

"We're going after them, but I don't know if Roni will be asking for help from her people. I'd like to have backup from those I can trust."

"Her people? Who's she working with now?"

"Don't know exactly, but from what I've gathered, she was called in for a 'special' case."

Banks groaned. "That's just great, Jim. And we know the agency that usually calls her in for assistance. Well, Brown and Rafe should be here in about an hour. You give me a direction and I'll have them following. Anything else?"

"Maybe a prayer that medical help won't be necessary."

"From your mouth to God's ear. I think I'll start do some checking around and see what might have caused Ms Charbonneau and company to return to our fair city again."

"Thank you, sir. Gotta go. I'll keep you advised on our location." Ellison quickly closed up the cell phone and tucked it into his pocket as he watched Charbonneau exit the hotel and cross the street carrying a well-stuffed backpack. She was now dressed in attire that would be suitable for trekking through the mountains.

"Ready," Roni voiced, climbing into the cab of the truck. Just as she finished buckling her seatbelt, the electronic tones of the song Fur Elise emanated from inside her jacket. Pulling out her cell phone, she flipped it open and said, "Charbonneau... Where?... Any sign of my..."

Ellison watched the emotions change the expression on the woman's face from excitement to concern to anger. He heard her heart rate and respiration increase due to whatever she was hearing. Tuning in to the male voice on the other end, he heard "...but it looks like there was a scuffle. His pager was under the Jeep. We also found blood on the back wall and nearby on the floor. You'll see when you get here."

With a loud snap, Roni closed the cell phone and shoved it back into her jacket. "That was some... friends. I had contacted them after Doug didn't show up this morning. They found his car in a parking garage off of Spring and 23rd."

"That's not too far from Sandburg's favorite Starbucks. It's near the loft."

"Doug likes the place, too. I guess Blair had shown it to him the last time we were here." Roni's voice was soft with remembrance.

Interrupting her reflection, Jim asked, "What about the blood they found?"

She looked at Jim closely. "You heard?"

Ellison didn't answer, but started the ignition, shifted the truck into gear and pulled away from the curb and into the traffic.

"Hey! I need some help here!"

The man in the passenger seat, 'Larry', and 'Moe' both turned quickly at the frantic shout. The sight that met their eyes was of one of their captives struggling to hold onto the jerking body of the other. Larry jerked his head toward the two and growled, "Go check on them."

Moe stood up and, though stooped over, walked back to the pair. "What's the matter with him?"

"I don't know," Blair answered, his voice quavering in fear. "You smacked his head against the wall in the garage and now he's having convulsions. Help him, man!"

Grabbing Blair by the shoulder, Moe jerked him away so that he landed in back of him. Then he squatted down at Doug's head and clasped it with his hands.

Suddenly Turner stopped flaying around and his eyes popped open. Forming his hands into a double fist, he thrust upward and slammed it into Moe's face. The captor, looking like he was pole-axed, flopped backward unconscious.

Scrambling up to his feet, Blair charged to the front of the van, brought his arms up and over the head of Larry and jerked back on his neck. The man gave a choked cry and scratched at the arm across the throat. Seeing the driver moving his right arm toward the gun tucked into his waistband, Blair leaned back slightly and kicked his foot at the man's head.

Unfortunately, Blair's aim was better than he thought and he also happened to be wearing a pair of hiking boots instead of his usual sneakers. His kick caught 'Curly' squarely in the side of the head and knocked him over to make hard contact with the glass in his door. It shattered under the impact, driving the man deep into unconsciousness, if he wasn't already. Now sans a driver, the van veered sharply and sped off the road until it impacted into a tree.

Grimacing in pain, Blair pulled himself away from the wall of the van and off the jagged piece of metal that had impaled him through the back of his left thigh. He removed his arms from around the unconscious Larry and clung to the back of the seat. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes and concentrated on controlling the pain that wanted to send him into darkness and the panic that wanted to do worse. It took almost a minute before he could rouse himself back up and look down at the bloody bracing that had popped away from the door and stabbed him.

Blair finally pushed away from the back of the seat, after swallowing several times to keep from being sick, and limped slowly over to where Doug lay crumpled in a corner. The crash had sent his friend back into unconsciousness and blood trickled slowly down the right side of his face from a cut near the hairline.

"Doug. Hey there, Doug. Wake up, man," Blair cajoled gently to his friend as he carefully knelt down beside him. Placing his shaking hands gently onto Doug's neck, Blair slumped in relief at the steady beat his chilled fingers found. Placing his hands onto his friend's shoulder, he shook the man hard. "Doug! Come on and wake up. We can't hang around here."

A deep groan escaped from Turner's mouth and his eyes fluttered open. Seeing Sandburg's anxious face hanging over his, and hearing the fear in his friend's voice, Turner slowly shifted over until he was up onto his knees. Reaching out his arms, he stuttered, "G...Gimme... a hand."

Obeying, Blair grabbed Doug's arm and helped him unsteadily to his feet and over to the side door, stumbling over the body of Moe. Letting go once he was sure his friend wouldn't fall over, Blair turned around and fumbled with the door handle. The device was stubborn and he had to jerk at it several times until it unlatched and allowed him to slide the door open. Turning back to his friend, Blair once again grabbed him by the arm, helped him out of the van and the two stumbled into the nearby tree line.

It took Charbonneau flashing her I.D. to gain entrance at the parking garage. Ellison had shown his badge, but the man in the dark sedan blocking his path didn't even look at it. He waved them off by saying 'Federal crime scene' and moved back to his vehicle. Charbonneau motioned the man over to her side of the truck and showed her wallet. The man immediately jumped back to his car and moved it out of the entrance.

"Just who in the hell are you working for?" Jim asked as he drove through the garage. "And don't give me any crap that it's a need to know basis. If it's the reason Sandburg is missing, I think I have the need to know."

"The FBI wants us to help them locate some evidence that could put the Rinaldi Cartel out of operation. They think my unique abilities can help them find the evidence needed to take the major players in the organization down."

"Rinaldi, Rinaldi. Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Last year, Jorge Rinaldi was killed in a freak accident in Tokyo. There was an immediate clamor by other cartels to try to take over the operations his family held."

"Yeah, yeah, now I remember. We thought the loss of the senior man of the clan would make their multiple operations whittle down into something more conservative and give us some breathing room for a while. Didn't turn out that way."

"No, they were able to maintain their place in the game and prodigal son Todd was able to take a firm control of the family. In fact, it looks like they are now moving into weapons sales and other unsavory operations. Or so that's what I was told this morning. Also, in keeping their operation healthy, it seems the Rinaldis are the prime candidates in a lot of other operations losing key members."

"And you are being asked to help find the evidence needed to convict how many?" Jim asked, stopping the truck in front of the vehicle he knew belonged to Doug Turner. Another dark sedan with two men inside, that Jim figured belong to the FBI, was parked a few cars down.

"Just the brains and the heart. Piece of cake." The sarcasm was clearly evident in Roni's voice.

"Uh, huh. Sounds like they are trying to tes--" Suddenly, Jim felt a sharp, deep pain thrust into the back of his left thigh. With a started gasp, he grabbed his leg, leaned over to rest his head onto his steering wheel and tried to breathe through the pain.

"What's wrong, Jim? What happened?" Roni asked, sliding across the bench seat to see what had happened.

"Sandburg," Ellison gasped, finally getting control of what he was experiencing. "He... something stabbed him... in the leg."

"How bad is it? Crippling? Enough to prevent him from walking?" Roni reached a hand over and lightly started to rub Jim's upper back, her voice low and calm.

Leaning back, Jim rested his head on the back of his seat, keeping his eyes closed. Taking slow, deep breaths, as Blair had taught him, Jim felt along the bond he shared with his friend. He easily was able to 'read' what was wrong. "It's not crippling... just painful. But his concern is not for himself."

"Doug," Roni breathed the word. "Jim, will you let me 'see'?" Without waiting for an answer, Roni grabbed Jim's wrist, closed her eyes and dropped down into the fastest trance she'd ever tried.

Suddenly she was looking out of the eyes of another; feeling the chilly wetness about her/him; gasping to draw the thin air into her/his lungs; struggling to hold at bay the pain that threatened to bring the darkness from the edge of her/his sight completely over it. She/he looked over at the one she/he helped steady and saw the blood snaking down the other's gray, pain-filled face. Tightening her/his grip as well as possible with hands still bound tightly, she/he continued deeper into the woods, following quickly along what was possibly an animal path and leading away from danger.

"Blair!"

Ellison's shout broke the vision, bringing Charbonneau abruptly back to the parking garage. Releasing the arm she held, she brought both hands up to massage at the blinding headache that exploded across her forehead. Her mind tried to process the intensity of all she had experienced; the coldness of the drizzling rain, the sharpness of the pine scent that permeated the air, the intensity of the scenery that she'd seen. It was as if her every sense had been heightened.

"How did you do that?" Ellison asked quietly. At the sharp look Charbonneau gave him, he continued, "This was the first time I could actually see where Sandburg was and who was with him. How?"

Roni rubbed her hands across her forehead one more time before giving Jim her full attention. "That was a new one for me, too. At least being able to... to feel as much as I did. Normally, it is not that clear, but you let me see Doug. He was hurt, bleeding from a scalp wound and that probably wasn't his only injury."

"I was there, too," Jim voiced incredulously. "They're moving fast and are not in too good of shape, but at least they are free and still alive. And I intend to make sure they stay that way." Moving determinedly, Jim jerked open his door and stepped out of the truck. He made his way over to the Jeep and started to use his senses to search for clues. He heard, but didn't pay attention to the fact that Roni was following him.

The back window of the vehicle was still open and up, a gym bag, tent and two sleeping bags in the space. Not seeing anything, Jim walked around to the driver side. "Can you smell that?" he asked, sniffing at the air.

"Smell what?" Roni countered. She moved over to where Jim was standing and took a couple of sniffs. "Gasoline and oil. So what?"

"No." Jim turned to the woman and smiled. "It's Sandburg's special coffee. He likes to order it when he needs comfort food. Chocolate and cinnamon, doubled. Since there isn't any of the stuff on the ground, he probably spilled it on himself before coming into the garage."

Roni was confused. She watched Ellison smile happily at her as he talked about spilled coffee, then school his face back into a mask of seriousness as he walked toward the back wall and the blood stain. Following, Roni knelt down at the stain on the ground and touched it carefully. It was still wet.

"This is from one of them being slammed against the wall. Probably Doug, since I don't feel like Blair has a head injury." Turning, Jim looked at the place where Roni knelt. "That was probably made after they brought him down. There's not a lot, so it might not be very severe."

"His face was gray and I could see that he was in a lot of pain. Injured enough, I'd say," Roni spat out.

"Sandburg has medical training and knows what to do with head injuries. He should with as many as he'd had over the past several years." The last was said quietly, but Charbonneau heard it all the same.

"So you have enough information to go after them?" Roni asked, standing up and brushing her hands to knock off dirt she picked up from the ground.

"More than enough. You need to tell them anything?" Ellison jerked his head toward the two men in suits who now stood leaning against their vehicle as he walked around to the driver's door on the truck.

"Why? I don't work for them." At Ellison's raised eyebrow, Charbonneau continued, "We just met this morning. I didn't agree to work for them and they don't own Doug or me. Besides, we don't need them mucking up our search."

"Lady after my own heart," Jim muttered with a smile, then opened the truck door and climbed in.

A root hidden beneath dead leaves and pine needles caught the man's shuffling foot, sending Turner crashing to the ground. His startled shout and moan of pain after he hit the soil brought Sandburg back from the small lead he had acquired while leading the way along the near invisible trail. Luckily, the two men had brought their pace down to a fast walk to catch their breath or the fall could have hurt worse.

"Whoa, there. You okay, Doug?" Blair asked, easing carefully down beside his fallen friend.

Doug rested a long minute on the ground, his head hanging down and breathing heavily. When he felt the gentle touch on his shoulder, he raised his head and looked into the concerned face of his friend. He tried to smile bravely as he rubbed shaking fingers at his temple. "Doing just peachy here. You wouldn't happen to have about a gallon of aspirin, would you? My head feels like it's twice its size and still growing."

With a gentle touch, Blair tilted the other man's face upward to get a better look at his eyes in the fading light. "Wish I did, man. Oh yeah, you definitely took a good one to the head."

Turner pulled away from the other, closed his eyes and set his head down onto the arm lying beneath it. "You think?" He gave a barking laugh, which quickly turned into a moan.

"Come on, Doug. Let's look for some type of shelter to rest before it gets too dark to see. You can't do it here. The local critters would consider you a pretty good dinner and this is the express lane here."

At the mention of possible predators, Turner jerked his head back up and looked around the area. He thought he'd been seeing a large dog out of the corner of his eyes every now and then, but didn't mention it to his companion. He thought that it might just be his confused mind seeing things that weren't really there. Realizing that Sandburg might have seen the same animal, he gave a heavy sigh and started to pull himself up. A pair of hands clasped around an arm helped steady him after he got to his feet and gently pulled him forward. "What happened to your leg? Your pant is covered in blood."

Glancing down at the area mentioned and tried to sound nonchalant when he said, "Sliced it back in the van when we hit the tree. It's nothing."

Pulling to a halt, Turner made Sandburg turn slightly to take a better look. "Nothing doesn't create that much blood or make you limp like Chester. How bad? And don't bullshit me, Blair."

"Okay, so it's a small hole. But we don't have a First Aid kit to bandage it and it's not bleeding that much anymore."

"I've got a handkerchief in my pocket... if I could reach it." Looking down at his still bound hands, Doug asked, "Got anything that can cut this thing off?"

Blair felt around his pants as best as he could with his own hands hooked together, stumbling slightly as he tried to check the back pockets. "Damn. Either I lost my knife back at the garage or when the van crashed. I might be able to find a rock sharp enough to get yours, but mine might be a bit of a problem." Blair looked down at his hands. While there was some easily visible space between the riot cuffs and Doug's wrist, the plastic bindings of his own were tight around each of his wrists. Even the third one pulling his wrists together had been cinched down tight.

"Well, it's here in the jacket." Turner tapped his left breast with his hands. "You get something to free me and I'll take care of your leg. Don't want it to get infected."

"Or make a bigger trail. After we find someplace to rest, you've got a deal." Turning, Blair started forward again, struggling to walk without a limp. It took most of his concentration.

The two men walked silently for several long minutes before Doug asked, "Do you think anyone is looking for us yet?"

"Good guys or bad guys?" Blair answered. Even though he asked the question, Blair knew the answer the other was looking for. He knew that Jim was aware of his injuries, had felt him the minute his worried Sentinel had connected with him, though the contact had felt strange. "Jim knows what has happened and is coming after us."

Turner looked up sharply at the statement. "He is? Can you..."

"I felt him when he made contact. He's still a ways off, but the cavalry is on the way." Blair tapped his head to remind the other of the connection he had with Jim. That had been revealed to Doug and his partner the first time they had met when the two had saved Blair from someone wanting to use his budding shaman abilities. "We just have to keep away from the others until he gets here."

"And if Ellison's on the way, Roni will be with him."

Hearing the confidence in Doug's voice, Blair looked over at the older man. "Do you and she have some sort of..."

"Connection? Not like you and Ellison, but I know my lady. When I didn't show up this morning, she had to know something was wrong and went for help. Since you two are the only ones we're really close to in Cascade, she probably went to the precinct first and your home second for help."

Blair smiled. "I can just hear Jim trying to tell Roni to wait at the hotel for him to call."

"Not likely," Doug said with a breathy chuckle. "If anything, Ellison had to run to catch up with her. I'm just worried that Rinaldi will go after her directly. I hope Jim can keep her from getting hurt." He turned pained eyes toward Blair and asked his question about her safety silently.

"He will, man. She couldn't be safer than if the whole Cascade PD was guarding her. Hey, what's that?" Blair asked, squinting up the trail. A flash of gray had caught his eyesight. Wiping the dripping moisture from the steadily falling drizzle away from his eyes, he concentrated until the shape of a wolf solidified in his sight. The animal didn't look in the least wet and its eyes had a slight glow to them. Blair instantly knew that he wasn't looking at just any wolf. It was his spirit guide. When the animal saw that he was recognized, it gave him a wolfish smile, swung around and started up through the trees.

Not wanting his companion to think he was crazy, Blair dissembled, "Huh, must be seeing things. Come on. I think we can find some shelter up this way," Sandburg said cryptically and started leading his companion off the trail.

Turner held back and asked, "Do you think it's safe to follow a wild animal through the woods?"

The question shocked Sandburg. "You saw him?!?"

"The wolf? Yeah. At first I thought it was just my eyesight playing tricks. Why? Didn't you?"

"Doug, that's not a real wolf." At Doug's incredulous look, Blair continued, "He's my... I guess you can call him my animal spirit. Sometimes it takes me going into deep meditation to be able to see him, but he does tend to appear when I've been hurt or in danger. I don't understand why you can see him. Hell, Jim's never been able to see him unless he's having some type of vision or something."

"He's not real? Then how... I've never... Lord help me, I think I need to sit down." Holding his hands to his head, Turner tried to pull away and sit down. Sandburg's hands on his arm prevented him from doing so.

"Come on, man. You can't sit here. Just stay with me and we'll figure this out." When he was able to get Doug to continue walking, Blair's voice took on the tone that he used to reserve for teaching. "I acquired my 'friend' a couple of years ago when I was almost killed by anoth... a woman who was actually a thief. And you remember me telling you about my trip down to Peru a couple of years ago. I was 'formally' connected to him then and have been working with Roni to be able to connect with him better on the, uh, other plane."

"The Moon Paths is what Roni calls them, but they're mainly known as the Spirit Planes. Even though she doesn't think I'm paying attention, I do listen when she's trying to explain things like that." Turner smiled at the memory of Charbonneau complaining to him about not hearing anything she says. "What you're saying is that I'm seeing something that is not of this world."

"Right, but I can't figure out why."

"I'm just as surprised as you are. I've never seen anything like this, but Roni says she does all the time. I don't have the ability. I'm her ground and help her from getting lost when she goes 'traveling' and also help her recharge. But I don't see spirit animals."

Blair looked closer into the tired man's face. "It could be because of your head injury. There are several people who've reported awakened gifts after severe illnesses or some type of head trauma. So this wouldn't be the first time that something's been awakened due to a traumatic incident. Hey, there he is. Looks like he's brought us to a place where we can rest."

"Where? I can't see him anymore."

"He's off the trail to the right. Right in front of those bushes around those trees." Placing his hands onto Doug's shoulder, Blair turned the man's body until he was facing the area.

Suddenly, the apparition appeared in Turner's vision again. He looked carefully at the animal, then down at the hands resting on his shoulder. With an idea dawning in his mind, he casually shrugged off Blair's hands and took a small step to the side. The figure of the wolf disappeared from his eyesight as soon as the touch left. "Blair, put your hands back on me," he requested, keeping his gaze trained on the last place he'd seen the wolf.

"Why?" Blair asked, but complied.

As soon as the hands were back on his shoulder, Turner was able to see the wolf again. The animal was disappearing into the brush. With relief coloring his voice he answered, "It's you doing it. I'm seeing the wolf when you're touching me. I might have some type of ability, but only with you helping me can I actually see the animal."

Sandburg looked down at his hands, then up at the man beside him. A pleased expression flooded his face. "That is, like, so cool! Wait until I tell Jim about this. Maybe I can do the same thing with him, because there are times when I tell him that the wolf has been hanging around and he thinks I've been sniffing too much incense--"

"Blair," Doug interrupted, swaying on his feet. "Could we go to the shelter? I really need to sit down before I fall down."

"What, oh yeah. Right. Sorry about that, man. It's just such a trip every time I find out more things that I can do. Okay, I'll go check this place out. Good thing he found it, too. It's getting too dark to continue and I'm going on over 24 hours without any sleep." Blair could feel the weight of his exhaustion in his whole body, but knew the man with him wasn't doing much better. "Wait here," he ordered, patting his companion on the arm and limping over to the thick brush where his wolf had vanished.

The brush was, in fact, a thick cluster of scrub oak surrounding several mature pine trees. Though all the leaves had fallen from the oaks, the lower branches of the pines made up for them and created a nice canopy. Once he had crawled through the front branches, Blair found a nice little alcove just large enough for the two men. The backside of the area was a large rock jutting up from the ground, creating a wall and a windbreak. The place was a dry and safe haven.

After his friend crawled into the bushes, all Doug could hear was an occasional 'ouch' and grunts along with the sounds of brush being moved. After a minute, Blair reappeared with a couple of small scratches bleeding on his face. "There's a dry spot back in there with a large rock against the hill. Looks like the overgrowth is thick enough to keep out the rain and I could just barely see out here. Could you see me?"

Turner shook his head, then groaned at the pain the movement caused. "I could hear you, but not see a thing."

"Good." Grabbing a handful of branches, Blair pulled them to the side to allow his friend easier access. "Crawl in. I'm going to go back a ways and try to hide our trail. You stay awake, Doug. You've got a head injury and that means you can't sleep unless someone watches you. And no fire or anything, okay?"

"Fire?" Turner raised his bound hands up in exasperation. "I don't think that will be a problem at this time."

Blair stared at his companion for a few moments, realizing what he'd just said. "Oh, sorry," he chuckled. "It's what Jim would've said to me. I guess I had been expecting it so much that I said it myself."

"The student is now becoming the teacher." Turner approached the bushes and paused. "Guess all that you've learned is beginning to pay off. Good thing."

After letting go of the branches, Blair listened until he was sure Doug had settled. Then he turned, started limping back down the trail and quietly prayed, "I sure hope it's going to pay off."

Snoqualmie National Forest -- Late Evening

"That right, Sir," Ellison said into the cell phone at his ear. "Right now we're on Highway 903 off of Interstate 90. It leads into the Alpine Lakes Wilderness past Salmon la Sac. The road changed from asphalt to a rough trail almost an hour ago. According to the map, it continues as a dirt and gravel road for about 10 or 15 miles, then just dead ends. I figure there are a few turn offs around here that will lead to cabins in this area. Any word on that front that's supposed to come through here?"

"The weather service is calling for snow down to somewhere around 5000 feet, Jim. But you know how reliable they are with forecasts. Are you two equipped?"

"I'm hoping we won't be going that high, but I always carry gear in the back and it looks like Ms. Charbonneau is wearing the right stuff." Ellison gave his passenger a quick look before returning his eyes to the road and part of his attention to his phone.

"What about Blair?"

"He was wearing his heavy coat this morning. We knew this weather was coming and you know how he is with the cold, Simon."

Banks gave a bitter laugh. "Worse than my grandmother, and she lived down in Arizona."

"From what I can tell, he's not suffering from the weather. But I can tell he's got some type of leg injury and Turner's been injured somehow, too."

"How do you know that?" Banks asked, but quickly jumped in before Ellison could answer. "No, forget I said that. I remember the little briefing you two gave me and, whether I want to or not, I know what you mean."

"I understand, sir."

"Okay, I've got Brown and Rafe out in one of the precinct's 4-wheel drive vehicles with rescue equipment and some survival kits. They should only be a couple of hours behind you. Just let me know if you need professional help. Oh, and I wasn't able to find out too much as to why Charbonneau and Turner are here. The FBI inasmuch as told me that it wasn't my jurisdiction and therefore I didn't have the need to know."

Ellison glanced quickly over at his passenger again before replying, "I'm pretty sure I got the information needed. Having backup I can trust will definitely help the odds. I'll try to keep in touch, but you know how the phones work in the mountains."

"Sure do. Be careful and bring back Sandburg in one piece."

"Will do, sir. I'm sure he'll appreciate knowing you were worried."

"Say anything, Ellison, and I'll make sure he knows it was you who volunteered to work the next couple of weeks on the night shift."

The phone clicked and the line went dead. Jim smiled knowing the blustery line at the end of their conversation was just that. Despite the way his partner and Captain argued and tended to get on each other's nerves, the two were good friends and Simon Banks worried just as much as he did about Blair's safety.

"Any guess as to how much further we have to go?" Roni asked, folding up the map she'd been scanning.

Ellison shook his head. "I can't really measure the distance, just that we're going in the right direction and that we're closer than what we were in the city. I do know that they've stopped, though. Don't!" Jim cried and jerked his arm out of range when he saw Roni reaching for it. His shout caused her to move back as if burned. "The road conditions are deteriorating and I have to keep alert."

"Sorry. I just thought I could help get a better idea of where they were," Roni apologized, folding her hands down onto her lap. They didn't stay there long, though. She reached for the map and started folding it so that the area they were traveling was on top. "I wish..."

Jim heard the wistful tone in the two words the other had voiced so quietly. "Wish what?"

Roni stared down at the map clutched in her hands. "Nothing. I was just thinking out loud."

Ellison looked at the woman briefly, then turned his attention to the road and the deteriorating weather conditions. He kept silent, knowing that Roni would either continue to voice her concerns or change the subject. Finally, he heard her take a deep breath and release it slowly.

"You do realize what you and Blair have is a very special thing, don't you?" she finally said. At the hard look Jim threw at her, she continued. "Doug and I've been together for a very long time and there are times when we have similar thoughts and ideas. I would swear he can read my mind most of the time. But I would do almost anything to be able to know how he is at any given time. Especially right now."

"I understand what you're going through," Ellison commented, trying to give the other some comfort. "In looking back, there were times when Sandburg first started riding with me I wished we'd had the bond we have now. Maybe I could have prevented some of the things that happened. But now that we do have it... he seems to have a lot happen to him that I'm still not able to prevent. And when I know he's been hurt..."

"But still, I'd rather know. What's the matter?" Roni asked when Jim leaned forward slightly, hissed the word 'shit', then started braking the truck.

"There're two vehicles up ahead. One's a car on the road and the other is a van in the trees. The van looks like it crashed." Switching his lights off, Ellison pulled the truck off the road and turned it off.

Roni leaned forward and squinted. "Where? I can't see anything."

"About a mile up. I can't see anyone running around, but I don't want to warn whoever it is that we're here." Ignoring the woman's incredulous sputtering, Ellison pulled out his cell phone and tapped the speed dial numbers. "Rafe. Where are you guys?"

"Still on I-90, Jim. Just past Snoqualmie Pass. The traffic has been a real bitch and there was an accident back by North Bend."

Ellison sighed heavily. "Okay, okay. Take exit 80 to get up to 903 and try to make it as fast as possible. We're sitting off the road about an hour after it switches over to gravel. I'm pretty sure we've caught up with the kidnapper's vehicle and they have company. Since it's dark, we'll stay put until you get here."

"Got it, man. If I can talk H into it, we'll jack up the tires and make this tank fly. Any sign of Sandburg?"

Jim paused and concentrated his vision up the road. Seeing no movement, he brought his eyesight back to the truck. "No. Just get here fast and in one piece." Hearing the reply of 'you got it' as he was pulling the device away from his ear, Ellison turned the phone off and jammed it in his pocket.

"How long do we sit here?" Roni asked.

"They're still a few hours away. It's probably best if we wait until they show up. Are you carrying a gun or any type of weapon?"

Charbonneau shook her head in the negative. "That's Doug's department. I'll use one if I have to, but I'd rather find other means."

"Sandburg's like that. He keeps his piece in his backpack most of the time and he left the pack in the truck this morning... after the fight." Needing the confirmation that his friend was still all right, Jim closed his eyes and concentrated.

He didn't know if it was easier to connect to Blair because he was nearer, but Jim could readily feel the pain and exhaustion his friend was experiencing. When he felt the cold hand settle onto his arm, as had happened the last time, he could see out through the younger man's eyes. Blair was using a branch to brush the ground to try and cover up any indication of his and Doug's passage. Jim could feel his friend breathing heavily as he worked and struggling to not give in to the pain that radiated along his left leg.

Suddenly, he 'saw' Blair stop his actions and straighten up. Awareness and relief flooded through the bond letting Jim know that the other knew of his presence.

"Jim, thank God! I don't know what is going on, but maybe you can hear me."

Ellison could hear Sandburg's voice, but it sounded hollow, like his head was all stuffed up and the words were a muffled echo. "Sandburg, can you hear me?" he called out, but the younger continued speaking as if he didn't hear his friend.

"I... I'm okay, man. Doug's hurt, though. Concussion for sure, but I haven't had a chance to see if there was anything else. Uh, I'm not sure where we are. You know my sense of direction isn't the best even in good weather." Blair gave a sharp laugh, but there wasn't any humor in the sound. "If you find a crashed van, follow the trail off to the right of it. I've tried to cover our tracks, but there's only so much you can do with wet ground and with it as dark as it is, I'm not sure it makes a difference right now. Watch your back, Jim. It was three guys that grabbed us and I don't know how ma--"

Blair's voice cut off and the connection was broken when Roni's hand released Jim's arm and quickly raised up to press against her head. The woman moaned at the sharp pain that flared behind her eyes and quickly spread throughout her head.

Ellison blinked his eyes rapidly when he found he was back inside of his truck. He inhaled sharply and shook his head to clear it. When he felt in control, he turned his attention to his passenger. "Roni? Are you okay?" His answer was a quiet groan accompanied by heavy breathing. Undoing his seatbelt, Jim shifted over until he was close enough to reach both hands out and, moving Roni's hands aside, began massaging the woman's temple.

"Oooh, I'll give you an hour to cut that out," Roni groaned, leaning into the massage with her eyes closed.

"We've found that this is about the only thing that helps Sandburg over the headaches he gets when he over extends. How are you doing now?"

"I don't need your gun to put me out of my misery," Charbonneau breathed quietly as she looked up and moved away from Ellison's hands. Her eyes showed that she was still in some pain. "I don't think I've ever had a backlash like this one. Thank you."

"No, thank you." At Roni's confused expression, Jim gave her a small smile. "I don't understand how you were able to do it, but I was able to actually see where Blair is and hear him instead of just feeling how he is. He also knows that we're near."

"Well, I've never had a picture that was so sharp and clear despite the darkness. It was almost painful to look. And I don't think I can even describe the intensity of the smells or the loudness of the sounds. What is it about you, Ellison? Is this the thing you and Sandburg keep skirting around every time we get together?"

His face freezing into a stony expression, Ellison turned away from the woman and stared out the windshield. His mind argued with his spirit on what to answer. As far as he was concerned, too many people knew about his abilities as is and widening the circled always presented a danger. "I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled.

At the larger man's answer, Charbonneau's anger flared. "I've had just about enough of your attitude, Ellison! I'm not some ditz who'll just accept what she's told and go merrily on my way or some sleazy investigative reporter for one of those weekly rags looking for next week's bizarre headline. Doug and Blair's lives are on the line here and I need to know who I'm teaming up with as well as their strengths and weaknesses. I could have learned about it long time ago, but I respected yours and Blair's privacy and didn't go looking."

At the woman's outburst, Jim turned to look into Roni's blazing green eyes. He gave her a long, measured look before turning away. Taking a deep breath, he released it slowly before beginning to speak. "All of my senses are heightened, way beyond that of normal men. I've had them all my life, but apparently suppressed them from childhood until I crashed on a mission in Peru when I was with the Army. My memory of that time in country isn't too clear, but they were probably online the 18 months I was there."

"I remember that article about you in NEWS magazine," Roni interrupted.

"Right. Well, when I got back home, I repressed them again until this nasty case about seven years ago. They came back online, but I couldn't handle them. So, I went for help and found this crazy kid who knew exactly what was wrong. When we first met, Sandburg convinced me that I'm what he calls a sentinel and he started to help me gain control. We've been together ever since."

Charbonneau also remembered hearing about a sensational story that broke more than a year ago concerning a certain paper written by a college student about a cop with special abilities. There was a news conference later disclaiming the whole thing as a fraud. Wisely, she decided not to bring up the issue. "So the trip down to Peru you two went on was for something more than just the bond you have with each other."

Ellison nodded. "I was guided by a shaman of the Chopec tribe in Peru after I'd crashed. He and a few of his warriors had come up here on some other business a few years ago, but he was killed. Before he died, he passed on the way of the shaman and the business of guiding me to Sandburg. Scared the kid out of his wits." Jim smiled briefly over the memory.

"Which started the connection between you and him," Roni suggested.

"Actually, I think the bond started way before then. Ever since we met, I've felt like it was right having Sandburg at my side. I just denied it until the fact slapped me in the face. When he's been in trouble, I just seem to know it. He's saved my life more times than I'd like to count and has helped keep me from going crazy. Now I can't think of him not being there to back me up." Jim's voice faded at the end. He was thankful for the darkness so that his companion couldn't see his embarrassment. He barely knew this woman and yet it seemed right to bare his soul to her.

"You could smell the coffee he had in the garage," Roni exclaimed, remembering Jim's actions in the garage. "Could you use that scent to trail him? Here, I mean?"

"Maybe, but the dampness might create a problem. Then there are those guys up there." Jim pointed up the road. "I can gauge the general direction that Sandburg and Turner are, but we have to be able to take out them first. The last thing we want is a standoff, but if it comes to that, I'd rather have more numbers on our side."

Shifting more comfortably in her seat, Charbonneau sighed. "So we wait. I hate waiting."

Blair trotted carefully back to the place he'd left Doug, his heart feeling much lighter than it had an hour ago. Jim was near and now aware of how things were. He wasn't too sure how it happened, but that could be explored later when they were all safe, warm, dry and rested. God, rest, Blair thought tiredly. How long have I been going without sleep? Too long. If I don't get some soon As if to punctuate his thoughts, Blair stumbled over something on the ground and was barely able to keep from falling all the way down. Pulling himself back up, he paused to lean against a tree and take the weight off his injured leg.

He couldn't let his problems stop him. Doug was hurting far worse than he and was also the primary focus of the whole situation. "For once it's not because of you or me, Jim. Can you believe it?" Blair spoke aloud, then chuckled weakly. Wiping his face tiredly and brushing his dripping hair away from his face, he pushed himself back erect. Realizing he was near the area he'd left his companion, Blair looked around for the thick brush they were using for shelter.

"Come on, Sandburg. Think," he mumbled to himself. A whining to his right brought his attention around to see the wolf. "Oh, there you are. Would you?" Blair held his hands out and gestured at the animal.

The wolf gave him a short bark, whirled around and started trotting through the trees. It went a few feet, then looked back to see if Blair was following. Seeing the human coming up behind, the wolf continued until it reached the area he'd shown them earlier.

"Way to go, fella. I'd treat you with a bone or something, but I'm afraid I'm all out at the moment." Blair held out his bound hands with his fingers spread to illustrate. The wolf stared at him for a few moments, then sneezed, shook his head and bounded into the trees. He disappeared as soon as he passed the trunk of a nearby pine.

Doug, it's me," Blair called out softly before he started shifting into the brush. He received a few more scrapes on his face before collapsing into the open area he'd found earlier. There was barely any light to see that Doug was curled up against the back of the area.

Crawling over to his friend, Blair rested his hands on the man's shoulders and shook him gently. Despite the care he'd used, Doug jerked out from under the hands touching him and scrambled off to the side.

"Whoa! Hey, man. It's just me."

Turner looked around wildly before settling his eyes onto the dim shape in front of him. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he forced them to try to focus on the figure. They wouldn't, so he trusted his instincts that it was Sandburg. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep," he apologized, slumping down until he was leaning on an elbow. "I'm just so tired."

"That's okay. You're not the only one. Guess what I found." Digging his fingers down into a pocket, Sandburg pulled out a long, slender rock. "The edge of this stone feels like it is sharp enough to do some cutting. Want me to give it a try?" Moving forward painfully, he held it out.

Trembling with fatigue, Turner pushed his arms out until Sandburg's searching hands found them. The stone wasn't as sharp as he had believed and it took several minutes of sawing back and forth across the plastic binding before it finally severed. Turner's arms fell apart and he groaned in relief with the freedom. "Thank you," he murmured.

"My pleasure," Sandburg replied wearily, then scooted over until he could lean against the back part of their little 'cave'. "How are you doing, man? Your head still hurting?"

"Like a marching band, but who's complaining," Turner replied with a grim smile. "Give me the rock and let's see what I can do for you." He pulled himself up painfully slow and, taking the stone from the limp hands, he felt around until his questing fingers found the plastic holding the two wrists together. There wasn't much of the band for him to work on, but he tried anyway.

Blair remained quiet while Doug started work on his bindings. Finally, he quietly said, "I had another contact from Jim a little while ago. It was really weird... Ow!"

"Sorry. They did cinch them pretty tight, but I think I can get it. Just hold still." Doug shifted around until he could sit at a better angle. "What do you mean by 'weird'?"

Blair hissed softly as the stone scraped his flesh a second time. "Well normally, I only feel Jim through our bond. Emotions, stuff like that. This time, it was like... I'm not sure I can really express it. He was, like, in my head. Almost a physical presence, and he wasn't alone."

"Hold still," Doug ordered when Blair tried to jerk his hands away. Then he looked up from what he was doing when he realized what the other had just said. "What? He wasn't alone?"

"Yeah. It felt like Roni, but I guess I was just too surprised with Jim being there that I didn't pay too much attention. Sorry, man."

Turner smiled to himself, then returned to the task of freeing Sandburg's hands. "That's okay. Just knowing that she might be there...."

"I know." With a grunt, Blair jerked at his hands and the plastic cuff gave way. There was still one encircling each wrist, but at least he now had full use of his arms. "Ah, thanks. Now I can take a better look at your head." He yawned mightily as he accepting the cutting tool back.

Doug shook his head carefully, but realized the other couldn't see him. The darkness in their little hideaway was now complete. "Uh, huh. It's too dark for you to be able to see anything, but I can at least wrap your leg. Roll over." Reaching into his jacket, he extracted a large handkerchief.

Sandburg gave a quiet groan, but obeyed the older man's order and leaned over onto his right side. With little fumbling, Turner grasped the edges of the hole in the fabric once he found it and, as gently as possible, made it larger. Despite his attempts at being gentle, the leg under his hands jerked and a low moan accompanied it. Murmuring a soft 'sorry' at his actions, Turner wrapped the cloth around the leg, covering the wound securely. He could feel that the area was damp, probably from the wound still bleeding slightly, but the skin around it was also very warm. Doug knew that he was hurting the younger man by having to work only by touch, but he wanted to prevent any further contagion.

"This could be considered closing the barn door after the horse has escaped, but this bandage should prevent further contamination. It was still seeping blood, but I'm hoping this will stop that, too." Turner had felt the tremors rattling the limb under his hands, but didn't mention it. He just helped Sandburg sit back up, then moved over to sit beside him.

"Thanks," Blair panted softly as he dug into his jacket pocket. "Hungry?" he asked, pulling out the sack he'd placed there from the Starbucks that morning. The trembling of his hands inadvertently shook the bag, making a rattling noise the other could hear.

Doug's stomach growled in response, causing the older man to grin sheepishly. "Despite that obvious answer, I could really use something to drink."

Opening the bag, Blair handed one of the biscotti biscuits over to his friend. "That'll have to wait until morning. We shouldn't be wandering around in the dark."

The two men munched quietly on the hard confection for several minutes before Turner asked, "Do you think those guys are trailing us now?"

"I don't know. As dark as it is, I hope not. Both of us are too tired to even try to keep watch, but we've got a pretty good hiding place. Let's just try to get some sleep. I just don't know how safe it is for you with that head injury."

"It doesn't feel great, but my head does feel much better than when we first escaped." Doug carefully felt along the back of his head and winced when he found a sticky lump.

"I don't know," Blair yawned. "I'm just too tired to argue. You're coherent now and I'm guessing your vision is pretty clear." At the soft, affirmative noise he heard from his companion, he patted his shoulder and continued, "So, lean over here and get some sleep. We're safe for now."

As Turner shifted over to lean his head onto the offered shoulder, Sandburg smiled at the softly glowing form of his wolf lounging against the bushes at the front of their hiding place. Reaching up and pushing his free hand into his coat, he laid a hand onto his sweatshirt. He could easily feel his shaman's medallion and felt comforted. The animal gave Sandburg his patented wolfish grin, then laid his head down to watch over his two charges.

Ellison came awake to find himself in a very familiar jungle setting. What some would consider an oppressive heat fell comfortably about him and the deep rich odors filled his lungs like an old friend. Understanding where he was, he began jogging down the trail that lay at his feet toward the clearing he knew was just ahead and the person that would be waiting for him there.

"Sandburg?" he called out as he stepped into the opening.

The object of his search stepped out from the foliage on the other side of the clearing. Blair was clad in the garb of a Shaman; the same he'd been wearing when he and Jim had confirmed their bond in Peru. His hand was resting comfortably on the wolf medallion that never left his neck. Gazing around him in wonder, he broke into a broad grin when he saw Jim on the other side of the open area.

"Jim!" Blair laughed and ran over to his friend. The older man wasn't dressed in the warrior garb from the bonding ceremony, but in the olive-drab tank and camouflaged pants he'd worn when he'd been missing in Peru. "I made it all on my own, man. Oh, wow! This place is just as I remember it, except the pillar is missing and so is the temple. And then there's the fact that we're not watching out for that psycho bitch, nor do we have Simon backing us up. But it's still the same in so many--"

Ellison grabbed his partner by the arms to get his attention. "Chief! Take it easy. Yes, you made it and I'm really proud of you. But how are you doing? How bad are you hurt? Are you two somewhere safe?"

Sandburg shrugged the hands off and took a step back. "Chill, man. I'm okay, really. Got sliced in the leg, but it's not that bad. I don't feel anything."

"You won't here, Blair." Roni stepped out from the trees; the flowing robe she wore was a glowing shade of white. With the confidence of one who'd traveled along the ethereal planes frequently, she crossed the clearing until she stood with the two men. "Only your spirit dwells here."

"Oh," Blair said quietly and twisted to look at the leg he knew was injured. There wasn't a mark on the limb. "I'd thought it was strange that it wasn't hurting." Looking at his wrists, Blair also saw that the plastic cuffs weren't there.

"This is your version of the moon paths and here you don't feel the ties of your mortal body."

Blair gave a sigh and turned to the woman. "Well, one could have hoped. Oh, hey, Doug's been really worried about you. But he's okay and I'm doing my best to take care of him."

"He really has, my love." Turner's voice emanating from the foliage caused all three to turn in surprise. He was standing in the clearing, but they could see that his body was slightly transparent. However, he was clear enough for the others to notice that he wore a similar robe to his mate and it was in a dark shade of blue.

"How did you get here?" Roni asked in a stunned voice. Crossing over to her lover, she stood close, but didn't try to touch him. She knew that him being in this place was something special. "You've never been able to walk these paths."

Doug looked down at himself and smiled sheepishly. "I'm not really sure, but I think it's because I'm curled into Blair while we're sleeping. He's developing another ability that you're probably going to have to help him with in the future. After we get out of this, that is."

Ellison cleared his throat to interrupt. "Speaking of which, time is usually really short here. I hate to break up the reunion, but we need to find out where and how you two are. We're parked about a mile away from a crashed van and there is another car with it."

Blair nodded and focused his attention on his partner. "Right. It was three guys who grabbed us, but I'm not sure if all of them are following us. I kicked the driver pretty hard and he smashed his head into his window before the crash. They had also made a phone call before we escaped, which probably brought whoever is in the second car."

"I didn't see any movement around the vehicles, so they're probably trying to track you."

"I tried to cover up our trail as much as possible, but I don't know how well I did. We're hiding in a pretty secure place. It's several miles up this animal track that leads away from the van. I had some help finding it." Blair looked over to smile at the wolf sitting at the edge of the clearing. It was leaning into the lounging body of Jim's spirit animal, the black jaguar "It's under some heavy brush and against the side of a hill. We should be pretty safe."

"At least until morning, Chief." Jim looked up sharply as the forest area around them began to fade. "There's not much time. Remember your training, Chief."

Blair looked at his friend with an expression of irritation, then turned to leave. "I know what to do, Jim."

Ellison reached out and clasped a hand onto his partner's arm, bringing Sandburg back around to face him. "I know you do, Chief. Believe me when I say I do. It's just that all my training and experience kicks in when situations like this happen. You can't expect--"

Seeing the sincerity in the larger man's face, Blair interrupted, "I hear you, Jim. We'll talk about it later. Just be careful. Okay?" Blair then walked over to Doug and led him into the jungle. The two quickly disappeared from view.

Ellison watched his partner vanish, then glanced over at Charbonneau. He smiled at the surprised look on her face. Giving her a nod, he turned and strode back into the brush.

Ellison jerked back to consciousness when a light flashed in his side mirror and right into his face. Pulling himself up straight, he adjusted his eyes and glanced in the mirror to see the vehicle pulling in behind his truck. It was a Jeep Cherokee with license plates that he knew belonged to the Cascade PD.

Pressing the button to illuminate his watch face, he saw that it was nearly 3 a.m. Reaching a hand over, he patted the slumbering Charbonneau leaning against the passenger door to awaken her. "Our backup is here."

Roni looked around the inside of the cab to verify where she was, then swiveled around to see out the back window. The other vehicle's lights were off and the doors were open, the dome light showing two men exiting and walking up to the driver's side of their truck. Jim rolled down his window.

"Sorry it took so long, man," Det. Henri Brown apologized when he arrived at the door. "The weather made more problems and it's snowing here now. Don't look for the State Police to show up anytime soon, either. They're tied up with the accidents."

"You made it and that's what counts, H," Ellison replied opening the door.

"What are we looking at, Jim?" Det. J.E. Rafe asked, stepping back to let the senior detective climb out of his truck. "Any sign of Blair?"

"Not really, but he's safe." Ellison's answer was quiet, but the other two detectives heard the confidence in the man's voice. "I know it's really late, but we've only a few hours before it gets light and I'd rather not wait until then to start after them. What did you bring?" he asked walking to the back of the Jeep and dropping the rear door.

"You name it and the Captain let us bring it," H answered. "Rope, pick and pitons if we have to do any climbing and a couple of winter survival kits, each can support up to four people for three days. I also picked up a little support from the SWAT commander. Told him I was going to need it for some special game." He smiled broadly and held up a rifle with a high-powered scope.

Rafe leaned into the vehicle and pulled out a large pack with straps and a big red plus sign on it. "I got this from a friend who's a paramedic. It's normally used for mountain rescues. She said that we could provide treatment for almost anything short of a massive heart attack or stroke. Since Blair is involved, I thought, uh..."

"Sandburg will understand the reasoning, even if he doesn't appreciate the humor. I'll just make sure he knows it was you who brought it." Ellison gave the stammering man a slap on the back, then started to pull out the rest of the gear.

Charbonneau came around the side of the jeep buttoning her coat tighter around her body. "I can carry up to about 50 pounds without being slowed down. What do you want me to take?" She stopped and stared at the two men eyeing her with dubious looks.

At the look his fellow detectives gave him over the woman's appearance, Ellison made the introductions. "Roni, the one here looking like a poster boy for Eddie Bauer is J.E. Rafe and his humorous sidekick over there is Henri Brown. They really are good friends. Gentlemen, this is Veronica Charbonneau. Her partner is out there with Sandburg."

Giving the two men the same close scrutiny she had received, Roni held out her hand first to Brown, then to Rafe. As her hand closed over the younger detective's hand, she smiled. "You shouldn't be so embarrassed by your given name to have to use initials. It's your choice, however."

"You know? I've been trying... How?" Brown sputtered, switching his shocked gaze between his partner and the woman who had the younger man's full attention.

Ellison interrupted, "To save a lot of time we don't have to waste, let's just say that Roni has a way of learning things others would rather keep secret and leave it at that. When this is all over, you can discuss it all you want. Here." Grabbing the survival kits, he handed one pack to Rafe and threw the other over a shoulder.

Knowing better than to argue with the senior detective when he was focused on going after his partner, Brown leaned into the Jeep and pulled out the climbing equipment. Splitting it between himself and Ellison, Brown shouldered his rifle and the pack and closed up the vehicle. "Who should carry the med kit?"

"Give it to Roni," Jim replied, giving the woman a firm look. "You will stay with me and do everything I tell you. Try to take off on your own and I'll tie you to a tree and not come back until after it's all over. Let's move it out, people. We don't have all night." Shouldering his equipment, Jim started walking up the road.

"So this is what Blair meant about the Ellison 'Hard-ass' attitude," Roni commented, watching Jim leave.

"This?" H chuckled. "Lady, he's being a big pussy cat right now. Just pray nothing bad happens to Hairboy. The fallout won't be pretty."

Sandburg awoke slowly, confused by the darkness of his surroundings. He shivered with the dank chill that seemed to permeate his whole body with the exception of his right side. It was warm, but the weight resting against it was also quivering. Releasing his medallion that he had been clutching with his hand, Blair extended it until he felt damp hair and hot skin.

"Damn! Fever," Blair whispered aloud. Doug coming down sick and, compounded with what already might be wrong with him, made getting rescued more important than ever. Sliding his hand further over, he fumbled until he was able to feel the sleeping man's throat. The pulse was rapid.

Moving his hand further down until it rested on Turner's chest, Sandburg was surprised to hear a rough voice say, "Move that hand any further and you'll have to answer to a very jealous woman. She doesn't appreciate someone else feeling up her property." Straightening his body back up to a sitting position, Turner's groan turned into a coughing fit.

"Easy, man," Blair comforted, holding the other upright until the fit had passed. "You don't have the right equipment, so your virtue is safe with me. I was just checking your respiration. You're definitely running a fever and your pulse is pretty fast."

"Oh God, that hurt." Doug held his arms around his chest. "Can you break ribs from coughing?"

"Depends on how damaged they were before you started coughing," Blair answered, shifting his body around until he was facing his friend. He couldn't see a thing, but that wasn't going to stop him. "Let me check you out and see what you might have. I've had enough broken ones myself to know what they feel like." Moving carefully, he unzipped Doug's coat and placed his hands along the rib cage.

Turner jerked when he felt the icy fingers touch his ribs. "Damn, your hands are cold."

"Sorry, can't be helped. But you know the old saying; cold hands, warm heart. Does that hurt?"

~groan~ "A little, but it's not a sharp pain."

"The area feels hot, so it's probably safe to say that you definitely have a good bruise. But it didn't feel like anything was broken, maybe just cracked. You need to be careful until we can get you to a doctor. Anything else hurt?" Blair pulled his hands back and helped the other close his jacket. Doug's shivering had become more pronounced when it had been opened.

"Just my head. Don't," Doug protested and pulled away when he felt Blair's hands lightly touching his face. "I already found a pretty lump on the back side and you know about the cut. Without any light, there's nothing you can do."

"Yeah, light. Wish there was a way we could have a small fire."

"We could use it to signal the others." Silence hung between the two men for several long seconds before Turner continued, his voice soft, "Was I having a wishful dream or was what happened real?"

"Oh, it was real, man." Blair's voice was equally soft, but Doug could almost hear the smile in the tone. "The only times I've ever been able to get there, Roni has had to help me. But tonight, I made it myself."

"And took me along for the ride. How'd you do that?"

"I have no clue. All I remember is trying to relax, to think of some way we could get back to the road, and that I really wanted to talk to Jim. Then I guess I fell asleep and woke up in the clearing. It was so real."

"That's what Roni always tells me, only the place she goes to isn't a jungle. She doesn't like that much humidity."

Blair chuckled. "Well, it seems the jungle surrounds Jim's and my lives. Maybe it's our trademark now."

"A shared legacy. So, I guess what caused your fight isn't something that has been brewing for a while, despite the attitude I saw."

Blair was silent for a couple of minutes before he softly uttered, "Damn. You're as bad as Roni."

"Thanks. I'm sure she'll be happy to hear that. So what happened between you guys that sent you off wandering the streets and into this situation with me?"

Blair sighed. "I cut my hair, went to the police academy, fought against all the sneering opinions others had against me to become Jim's partner and he won't let me do what I was trained to do. I changed the whole course of my life for him and he still takes charge of every situation we're in."

"Did you?" Doug asked, jumping in the middle of Blair's tirade when the younger man finally took a breath.

Blair froze at the question. He wasn't expecting Doug to say anything, much less ask a question he didn't understand. "Did I what?"

"Change the course of your life. Was that what happened when you made the choice to become Ellison's partner, or did you put you life onto the path it was supposed to follow all along?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Did I ever tell you what I was doing before I met Roni?" Before Blair could answer, Doug continued, "I was a full-time pharmacist and a historian in Colorado. That's one of the reasons we vacation there so much. Anyway, the pharmacy work kept the bill collectors away and allowed me to immerse myself into the research I wanted to do on Native American religious practices. Then one day, on vacation down in Durango, I was researching the tomes of a college and ran into this fiery redhead who needed help in deciphering some practices being performed by some cultists. By the time it was all over, we had ended up saving each other's lives at least once and stopping some people from doing pretty ugly things to animals."

"And that's when the two of you decided to become a, uh, couple?"

"Actually, no. I went back to work in Grand Junction and returned to the life I'd had before meeting that trouble-prone woman. That lasted for 6 months."

When Turner stayed silent for what he thought was too long of a time, Sandburg finally asked, "So, what happened? You obviously got together."

"She showed back up again, needing my help on another case she was on."

"And did you help her?"

"Oh, yeah. Can you see anyone saying no to that woman? But finally, about two years after she kept showing up every now and then and asking for help on special cases, she sat me down and had a long conversation about what our futures would be."

"Didn't you have any say in that?"

Turner chuckled. "Oh, I could have told her no and continued to do pharmacy work during the day and research at night, but I found that there just wasn't any joy in doing the same old thing day in and day out. When she was gone, I missed her. Finally I realized that I liked the excitement and challenge that working on cases with her gave me."

It was Blair's turn to chuckle. "Got so used to the roller coaster that you couldn't see yourself going back to the merry-go-round. I know what you mean. Jim and I found out the hard way that we are supposed to be partners from the moment we met."

"Then why are you fighting what is so obviously meant to be by taking a role that is not yours?"

Turner's question hit something deep in Sandburg's psyche. He opened his mouth a few times to come back with an answer, but the words just wouldn't come out.

"You are a shaman, that I know from Roni. What Ellison is exactly, well, that's between you and him, since you've not made us privy to that inform--"

"He's a sentinel," Blair blurted out, though he was not sure why. Doug remained silent, waiting for him to continue. The younger man did after taking several deep breaths. "He'll probably kill me for telling you this, but you have a right to know who you're depending on. Jim is what the explorer, Richard Burton, called a sentinel."

"Ah, a Watchman. Now it all makes sense."

"You've heard of sentinels? How?"

"Not sentinels, per se. But I know of people like them. You're saying that Ellison is a Guardian, as the lore of the Native Americans call him. A person born with enhanced abilities that make him special and destine him to be the protector of the tribe. And you, as his Shaman, are there to watch his back and protect his soul; to teach and guide him as he performs his duty to his tribe and his people."

"Y-yes," came Blair's hesitant confirmation.

"So the argument you two had concerned?"

Blair cleared his throat and answered, "I know where you're going with this."

"Do you? Well, sometimes I just say things that come to my mind and don't really understand what I am saying. Could you explain it to me?" Turner sounded genuinely confused.

"With our partnership, Jim and I, we each have our roles to play and I guess I've been forgetting that. He's the Sentinel and I'm the Shaman. It's in his genetic makeup to be the protector, to do what is necessary to protect the tribe."

"And you, if I know how your bond works."

"Yeah, well, sometimes that's the problem."

"Why?"

"Because one of these days he's going to get himself killed trying to protect me."

"That could also happen during the course of his job. But wouldn't you risk your life to protect him?"

"In a heartbeat. As far as we know, he's the only good sentinel around. He's too important to lose."

"And you think you're expendable, that another can replace you."

"I replaced Incacha, Jim's previous Shaman."

"Replaced him, or took the place he was safeguarding for you."

Blair remained silent.

Turner had heard the defeatist tone in Blair's voice, so he decided another tactic. He laughed. "For one who'd made it as far as almost completing a Ph.D., you sure are dense, Sandburg. But if this is the way you feel, then why haven't you found your replacement by now? Surely you know of someone who could step in if something happened to you. Maybe train them so that they can have a smoother relationship with Ellison."

"Go to hell, Turner!" Sandburg growled.

"Ah, finally. I was wondering what would finally strike a nerve. Open your eyes, bright boy. What part of your bonding ceremony said you two would be together unless something happened to you and another could step up to fill you place? None if it, right? Guardians and their Shamans are destined to be together until death, usually which takes both of them at the same time or pretty close." Turner allowed Blair to stew over all that was said for a bit before he moved the topic to a different area. "Tell me something, Blair. When Jim is working with his senses, who helps him control and hone his abilities?"

"Me."

"Why?"

"Because I know how to help him."

"How do you know?"

"I've studied sentinels for about as long as I can remember. I understand what a sentinel can do with his enhanced senses and what the dangers are."

"But Jim's had his senses for a long time. Hasn't he?"

"Yeah, his whole life. Where are you going with this, Doug?"

"Just stay with me. What do you do when Jim decides that he knows better what to do when he's trying to use his senses or if he has a problem?"

"I try to talk him out of doing anything stupid, for one thing. But it's not easy. Jim can be pretty bullheaded. But he usually listens to me once he's had time to think."

Turner tried to keep from laughing, but a few chuckles slipped out. "I don't think only one side of your partnership can be considered bullheaded, Blair. Think again about why you two had an argument yesterday."

There were several long seconds before Sandburg finally replied, "I get it now. I may have some knowledge about police work, but Jim is the one with the experience and instincts that have been honed after years in the military and now as a detective. He also follows his instincts as a sentinel and as my partner. I have to learn to accept that."

"Not only follow his instincts, but don't guardians or sentinels have a primary objective?"

"To do what is necessary to protect the tribe. And I'm a very important part of his tribe." The last was spoken humbly.

Turner yawned. "It's about time, my young friend. I thought I was going to have to draw you a picture before you'd get past your feelings being hurt and start to see why Jim does what he does."

"God, I feel like a first year student who's finally learned the trick of how to study for a test." Sandburg's voice was filled with relief. "Thanks, Doug. Are you warm enough? You're still shaking."

"I'm fine. It's probably just the coldness of the ground. You know, I'm going to have to have a talk with my partner about her leaving me tasks like this. She probably should have had this conversation with you a long time ago. And now I'd like to get back to sleep, or do you intend to do some more walking on the spirit planes?"

Blair patted his shoulder, indicating where Doug should rest. "Nah, I'm done walking for the night. If anything, I'd only be walking alone. Jim's on the trail and my best course of action is to not interrupt his train of thought. I think I'd better catch a few more Z's if I want to be of any use to anyone tomorrow. 'Night, man."

Walking calmly up the side of the road, Ellison motioned for his three companions to approach his position. He had traveled ahead of the group when they neared the two vehicles and he had detected no evidence that there was anyone in the area. He couldn't hear anything coming from the car or the van.

Gesturing to Charbonneau to stay behind, Ellison pointed to Rafe to take the driver's side of the van. He then motioned at Brown to stay with him and started forward. The three men crept stealthily forward until they were in position around the still vehicle. With Rafe at the driver's door, Brown at the passenger door and Ellison at the side sliding door, each man quietly tested the handles and found that none were locked. Counting down with his fingers towards Brown, the two men yanked open their doors and braced their bodies to have a clear shot at anyone who might be waiting in the van. Rafe was not far behind in copying the actions once he heard the other two in action.

When the doors opened, the overhead light of the van illuminated, showing a lone body lying in the back covered with a tarp. Brown stretched a hand and pulled the cover from the body's head and upper torso. What met his sight was not pretty. The man had a very visible head wound with blood trails that snaked around lifeless eyes. But that wasn't what had killed him. It was the large hole in the middle of his chest obviously caused by a large caliber weapon. Though it wasn't necessary, Brown leaned forward to check for a pulse that wasn't there.

"Well, we know they are at least one short," H commented, looking over at Jim. "Doesn't look like they wanted this poor bastard around."

"Hired muscle is expendable. Not much we can do for him either except alert the highway patrol and make sure they know to come in silent," Jim replied.

Rafe pulled out his cell phone. "I'll do that, Jim," he offered and walked away from the van and into a more open area to make sure he could get good reception.

Roni came around the side of the van and peeked into the vehicle. She didn't flinch at the dead man's appearance. "Too bad," she murmured turning away. When she noticed Ellison staring at her, she shrugged and walked past him toward the nearby forest. "What? I was just thinking it was too bad this was just the hired help and not Rinaldi himself. I know this great curse that would have trapped his soul until the next millenium."

Jim almost shivered at the coldness of the woman's tone. Mentally he told himself to never do anything that might make Roni that mad at him. Taking one more look back into the van, a splash of red under the seat on the passenger side caught his eyes. Zeroing in on it, he recognized the object. Leaning back in, he pulled out Blair's pocketknife. His partner was never without his bar mitzvah gift. Clutching it briefly in his fist and raising it up to his face, he closed his eyes and inhaled. He easily smelled the scents he associated with Blair. It gave Jim a small feeling of comfort.

Pocketing the knife and turning his attention away from the van, Ellison focused his eyesight onto the ground and started to follow after Charbonneau. Despite the lack of stars or moon to provide him any ancillary light, he could easily see the animal trail Sandburg had mentioned. The thick clouds overhead were providing just enough reflection of light from the towns to the south and the light snow that was beginning to cover the ground helped even more. To the Sentinel, there was plenty of light for him to see.

Scanning the ground, Ellison found the footprints leading from the van and car toward the trees; there were two sets from the car and four from the van. That made him relax a little to think that there were only four people searching for Sandburg and Turner. Searching further, he was able to locate the prints that belonged to his two missing friends and found a couple of spots of blood. Turning back toward the road, Ellison gestured to the others.

"Okay," he started once the other three were closer. "Looks like there are only four men tracking our guys, two from the van and two from the car. The prints look like they aren't really dressed for tracking through the woods, which means we might have the advantage. I know it is going to be difficult, but I'd rather you not use your lights. We don't need to warn those guys that we're behind them."

"We don't have those special eyes that you do, Jim. How can we keep from tripping over anything and everything?" Brown asked.

"Should have been munching on carrots instead of those donuts, H," Rafe teased his partner and poked him lightly in the stomach. The black detective slapped at the offending hand.

"Stretch out a length of the rope you're carrying, H," Jim ordered and extended a hand. "I'll carry the end and the rest of you space yourselves out along it. If I see something that you need to duck or jump over, I'll stop and warn you."

"This will make for slow going," Roni commented, taking the spot behind Jim.

"Would you rather wait until it starts to get light? Better slow than not at all. Let's get going and hope the snow quits soon. I don't want to lose the trail." What Ellison didn't mention was that he was able to smell the special blend of coffee that Sandburg must of gotten on himself, as well as the unique odors that his friend had, and would be able to use that if the tracks did disappear. There was also the myriad of odors from the men ahead of them, the strongest being gun oil and powder mixed with an antiseptic odor.

As if realizing that the tall detective was concentrating too strongly, Charbonneau patted Ellison on the arm to get his attention and said, "Ready, Jim."

Breaking away from the odors, Ellison looked down and nodded. Swinging around, he led his party into the forest.

Doug Turner jerked awake, his eyes flashing open, when a cold hand pressed on his mouth and another pressed down on his shoulder to keep him where he was lying. There was enough light now filtering through the foliage overhead to barely see, but there wasn't anythi