I know it has been a while, but here is the next in my Sentinel/Shaman series. I send out great thanks to Cindy Combs, who keeps providing me with ideas to keep writing and helps with the continuity. A massive and heartfelt thanks to Zerena, who graciously decided to be my beta and help me with my poor grammar and punctuation.

Disclaimer: You know the usual language and rules. I have no intention of breaking them. Can't afford to on a poor government worker's salary. I also claim literary liberties concerning the idea of mining around Cascade and all that pertains to it. My maternal grandfather was a Welsh coal miner and spun many a tale concerning what he experienced. So if some of the stuff sounds a little fanciful, thank Grandpa.

It would be a good idea to read one of my previous stories, "The Prize", to understand some of the references. There are also references to Survival, Prisoner X, Real Deal, Sentinel Too, The Sentinel by Blair Sandburg and maybe some others that I just can't remember right now.

For all comments, good or bad, please send them to shallan@mho.net.

Rated PG-13 for some language and violence.

FOR THE WORLD IS HOLLOW

Shallan

Prologue

The Stark Housing Project had been a dream community designed and developed by George Stark, a self-proclaimed philanthropist and business leader. The multi-housing units were designed and built in the 1960s on the north side of Cascade for middle and low- income families who were struggling to survive in a society that tossed out short-term charity programs like candy. The two-story apartments, twenty buildings in all, surrounded the Housing Center, a warehouse-like building that contained an athletic facility in the form of a gymnasium, a childcare facility and offices for the managers of the apartments.

Around 1981, asbestos was discovered throughout the buildings, making them uninhabitable. At great expense, the Stark Corporation relocated all the families living within the Housing complex to temporary quarters while a study was made to see if it was possible to safely remove all the deadly insulation and resettle the tenants. Due to the inconveniences the tenants were experiencing, the leases were frozen for those who decided to wait the situation out. Those who desired to find another place were released from their contracts.

During the second year of the study, Cascade went through a particularly wet winter and spring. Deep mountain snows during the winter, combined with constant rains in the spring, led to disastrous runoffs and flooding in and around Cascade. The ground under the complex became unstable. When a sink hole appeared at the northwest edge of the community, old geological maps were found that showed Stark Housing Project was sitting on old, long forgotten mine tunnels.

Due to this new problem, the Board of Directors of the Stark Corporation made the sound decision to not attempt rehabilitation of the Housing Project. The plan instead became to demolish it and build a prison, having just won the contract from the government. The former tenants' leases were cancelled, requiring them to immediately find housing elsewhere in the city. The tenants protested their treatment and filed a class action suit in federal court alleging that Stark knew about the dangers involving the housing, deliberately ignored them by building the housing and endangered the lives of all who had lived there.

The land and the buildings on it are still tied up in legal proceedings. They remain abandoned and empty to this day. The prison was built in another location.

Stark Housing Community Recreation Building, Near Midnight

A cold damp wind blew sharply, rustling pieces of newspaper that lay scattered around the empty, dark buildings. There was plywood blocking each of the doors and windows on the first level, as well as the windows on the second levels, of the tenements to prevent anyone from taking up residence. Spray-painted markings marred many of the portals, some were expressions of profanity while others were attempts at art.

The area was supposed to be deserted, but a dim light appearing in the Community Recreation building belied that. It flared briefly, as if someone had opened a door to a room with light and closed it quickly. If anyone had been in the area to see it, they would have noticed the plywood on a door shift to the side and three individuals cautiously exit the building carrying something wrapped in a tarp. Moving swiftly, they crossed the dark street to the south of the building and disappeared into the shadows.

One hour later, they returned with just the folded up tarp. Moving silently, they shifted the loose piece of plywood they previously used to exit the building and entered. Again, a dim light appeared for several seconds, then was gone. Silence reigned in the area once again.

An Alley Somewhere in Cascade, Next Day, Midmorning

A gentle drizzle of cold rain fell on the pavement, forcing the uniformed officers working around the area to wear their long, yellow raincoats to keep them dry. The Coroner's car was already on the scene when the blue and white Ford truck pulled into the alley and stopped. The driver climbed out of the cab and shut his door firmly. He stepped to the front of his vehicle and stopped when he didn't hear the passenger door open. Turning around, he rapped his knuckles on the hood, startling the individual still sitting inside.

"Anytime now, Chief," Jim Ellison called out. Without waiting, he turned and walked into the alley.

Closing the notebook he'd been writing in, Blair Sandburg placed it onto the seat, zipped his coat closed and left the truck. Trotting quickly, he caught up to his partner. "Sorry, Jim. Guess I was lost in a thought," Blair apologized.

Ellison just gave him a stony glance and turned to the milling officers. "Who's in charge of the scene?" he called out. A large, plain clothed detective walked over.

"Hello, Ellison." It was Detective Franchs from Homicide. "It's been a while."

Not long enough. Ellison thought to himself, remembering the man and the attitude he'd displayed toward Sandburg the last time they had to work together. It had been the first case he and Blair had worked after they returned from Peru and their bonding as Sentinel and Shaman. Had it not been for their connection, it had almost turned out to be their last.

The heavyset Homicide detective seemed to be a little more reserved; the man was also a little pale. "Hello, Franchs. You remember my partner, Blair Sandburg." Franchs looked at the smaller man and nodded his head in acknowledgement. There wasn't any attitude displayed like the last time.

"This one like the others?" Jim walked past the detective and toward the body bag lying in front of a dumpster.

Franchs and Sandburg followed. "Yeah, he looks like the other homeless guys. There's evidence of him being in a recent knife fight with multiple cuts and stab wounds on the face, arms and torso." Franchs took a couple of steps back when he saw Ellison squat down and reach for the zipper on the bag. "I've seen people cut up before, but this guy was obviously not liked at all. His last moments had to be very painful."

"Death caused by his throat being cut," Blair voiced quietly, steeling himself to look at the body. Although he'd been working around Jim and the other Major Crime detectives for almost four years unofficially, and nearly one year as a new detective, Blair still hated this part of the job. If he only had to look at the pictures taken of a scene, it wasn't so bad. It was seeing the real thing, a human being with its body brutally desecrated, which gave him the most problems and some nightmares.

Ellison glanced up at his partner before opening the body bag. Seeing the younger man steady himself and nod, Jim grasped the zipper and pulled it down. He heard Blair inhale sharply and mutter 'oh, man' only loud enough for the sentinel to hear, but there weren't any sounds of him moving away.

"I've looked at the poor guy enough. I'll leave you to it, Ellison. Take it easy, kid." Ellison looked up to see Franchs give his partner a pat on the shoulder as he left the area. Something had obviously happened to the Homicide detective since the last time they'd met, but now was not the time to search out the reason.

The dead man did look like he'd been through a mean knife fight before his throat was cut, ending his life. The wound across the neck was a jagged cut, the ragged edges indicating that the final death stroke was not made by one continuous movement. There were fresh slashes across both his cheeks that still gapped open and drying blood that ran down the face and neck. Obviously, they had been done to cause the man pain more than anything.

Examining further down, there were several more gashes to the torso and arms. Again, the number and placement of the wounds looked to be caused more for pain than to disable the man. Looking closely, Ellison could see that the man's right arm had been broken just above the wrist. It probably happened just before death, due to the lack of swelling and discoloration.

"Jim? Is it..." Blair broke off his question, choking slightly. He was turned so that he could focus on his friend and not be able to see the body.

"The same, Chief." Ellison sniffed a couple times, a look of confusion appearing on his face. "But there's a smell on this guy that was also on the others. Something mixed with an earthy scent."

Seeing his sentinel struggle with the vague memory, Blair placed a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Don't fight it, Jim. Separate it out from the other odors, catalog it and move on."

"Damn it, I know this..." Frustration colored Ellison's voice.

"It couldn't be from where he's been living. I...I'm pretty sure I know the guy."

At that statement, Ellison closed the body bag, stood up and took Sandburg by the arm, leading him several feet away. The smaller man was looking very pale and struggling to control his stomach's desire to evict the food it had acquired an hour earlier.

Closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths, Blair pulled himself back into control. "Sorry, man. I don't know how you can get used to stuff like that." He rubbed his hands on his face, then pushed his damp hair back from his face. Looking at Jim, he saw the man was still waiting for an explanation. "Sorry, I'm pretty sure that he goes... went by the name of Sarge. He was the leader of the homeless community just south of the Projects."

"Sarge. And the reason you know him is?"

"Several years ago, I was part of a group that was studying how different societies create their hierarchy. The military uses rank in both the officer and enlisted corps, police forces also use rank, but I noticed how skill and ability also seem to create a pecking order." Blair paused to take a breath and noticed that Jim was starting to get impatient. "Okay, okay. I'm getting there. I decided to study the different homeless societies around Cascade, comparing their hierarchy with the more organized groups, and found Sarge's group. I stayed with them for several months after Sarge decided it wouldn't hurt to allow me to hang around."

"You lived in a homeless community? When?"

"It was about a year before we met. Did it during the summer, though. Don't know if I could have handled one of Cascade's winters living in a box." He shivered for Jim's benefit, finally getting a smile out of the larger man. Blair's aversion to being cold and wet was well known. "Sarge sort of took me under his wing and he eventually started telling me how he ended up here.

"He'd returned from Vietnam in 1972 and tried to go back to the life he had in Portland. But the war had changed him and he didn't feel that he fit in anymore. His wife divorced him a couple of years after he'd got back and took his son with her down to Sacramento. After that, he quit his job and just started wandering. Eventually, he ended up here and joined the group near the Projects. The last time I was there, he had them organized into a nice little community. He made sure that anyone sick would get to the charity clinic, everyone had something to eat and no one in need was turned away. They even have a small group that is sort of a security squad. He considered all of the people in his group his 'family'."

As Blair finished his story, he looked up at Jim. Expecting to be questioned, he was surprised to see the larger man looking around the area, as if searching for something or someone. Jim had placed one hand on Blair's shoulder and was gradually pushing the smaller man behind him.

"Jim? What is it? Did you hear something?" Blair tried to move and look around, but felt the grip on his shoulder tighten, preventing the action. Trusting his partner's abilities, Blair allowed himself to be positioned, then waited. The hand dropped from his shoulder when the larger man was solidly standing in front of his partner.

After several long minutes, Jim's attention suddenly snapped back to the area. He looked around and found Blair standing silently behind him. "What did you say about this guy? You knew him?"

"You didn't hear a thing that I said, did you? What happened, Jim?"

"What do you mean? You said that you knew this guy."

"Right, and I told you about him. Then you pushed me behind you and were out of it."

"I zoned?"

"No, I don't think so. Not really. I'm sure it wasn't anything like your normal zone- outs. It was more like you were radaring in on something. Do you remember what you were feeling a minute ago?"

Ellison looked around the immediate area as if he was seeing it for the first time. Seeing the look of concern across his friend's face, he smiled and patted Sandburg on the shoulder. "I thought... nothing. Three DBs in a week. Must be getting to me."

"Yeah, right," Blair said skeptically, but allowed the episode to pass. He made a mental note to ask about the incident when they were home and relaxing "Do you want to go over to the Projects and talk with his group? I mean, I've been keeping in contact and someone should remember me."

Ellison looked over at the body bag, then did a quick sweep of the area. "If you're sure that this guy was from there, it wouldn't hurt to go over and ask a few questions." Turning, he headed for his truck.

With a quizzical look on his face, Blair shook his head and followed Jim to the truck.

"Take a left here, man." Blair pointed across Jim when they approached the Bay Street bridge. "Sarge had a tent set...up..." he hesitated when he saw the near empty area.

Ellison pulled the truck to a stop underneath the bridge. "You sure this is the area? It looks like it's been deserted."

Not answering, Blair opened his door, stepped out of the truck and walked slowly toward the ragged row of packing crates. His last memory of the place, despite the fact that it was built by homeless people, was a thriving community. Where once stood sturdy boxes in uniform rows, now shattered wooden frames were jumbled together to create some type of protection from the elements. The large tent that he remembered Sarge owning was missing. It had stood at the head of the rows, a sentry over the other housing.

In mild shock over what he was seeing, Blair wandered toward what was left of the shelters. He didn't hear Jim step out of the truck and close the door. "Hello? Is anyone here?" Blair called out. A grizzled old man surged out from behind a tattered blanket covering two boxes, the bat in his hands was raised in a threatening manner. "Whoa! Easy man. I'm not here to hurt you," Blair cried out, stumbling back.

"Get outta here!" the man yelled. "We don't have anything else to give." He swung the bat at the startled young man.

Hands grabbed Sandburg by the shoulders and yanked him out of danger. Ellison reached behind his back and pulled out his revolver once he'd moved his friend to safety. "Hold it right there, mister. We're not here for anything but some answers." He held the weapon up to show the man that he was armed, but didn't point it.

Seeing the gun, the old man hesitated. Fingering the wooden weapon, his rheumy eyes darted back and forth between the two men in front of him, the codger took a step back. "What do you want? We don't have anything worth taking anymore." The threatening tone was gone, replaced by the tremulous voice of a frightened man.

Blair stepped forward to stand by Jim, his hands held up to show that they were empty. "Like my friend said, we only want some answers." Glancing over at his partner, Blair moistened his lips and took another step forward so that he was now in front. He would have taken another step, but was stopped by a low growl of warning coming from Jim. "I used to visit here, but I haven't been around for a while. Have you been here long? I knew a guy who was helping everyone. His name was Sarge."

A lost and sorrowful look appeared on the man's face, the bat was lowered slowly. "Gone. They're all gone. Went to the Promised Land."

"Promised Land? Where's that?" Blair softened his voice and brought his arms down to his sides.

The bat dropped to the ground. "The Man came and took the best. Left me and the others that were hurt and old. Left us to die." Slumped in defeat, the old man turned and wandered back to his 'home'.

"Wait! When did this happen?" Blair called out, starting to follow. He was stopped by Jim grabbing his arm.

The man continued away as if he didn't hear Blair's words. "Gone. They left us," he continued to mumble. When he reached the boxes, he pulled the blanket aside and slowly climbed in.

Blair turned and looked at his friend. The hand holding his arm had tightened to the point where it was now starting to hurt. "Jim?"

Ellison was staring around the area until he was looking in the direction of the Stark Housing Projects, the abandoned community distant, but visible to his eyesight. His hearing had picked up the sound of an animal growling. At first, he'd thought it had been a dog. When he couldn't pinpoint the noise, he then thought it might have been his spirit animal, the black jaguar. But when he didn't see the feline anywhere in the area, he started to search further out. It was the sensation of being shaken that brought his attention back.

"What is the matter with you, man? This is the second time in an hour that you faded out on me." Blair peered up into Jim's face, eyes full of concern. "Are you senses going on the fritz?"

"No. I thought I'd heard something. Sounded like an angry growl coming from the Projects." Scratching his head, Ellison shifted his gaze to an approaching car. "What is she doing here?"

Looking over, Sandburg saw the car stop nearer to the crates under the bridge. Megan Connor, an Australian Inspector on loan to the Cascade PD and assigned to Major Crime, stepped out of the vehicle and stared at the ramshackle area.

"I'll find out," Blair answered and walked away before Ellison could stop him. As he approached the Inspector, he saw that she looked just as disturbed by the condition of the area as he was. "Are you looking for someone, Megan?" Blair asked.

"Oh, hello, Sandy. Where'd everyone go?"

"When were you here last?"

"Three weeks ago. It was a lot busier, more people. Christopher?" Megan yelled toward the boxes. Her voice echoed back eerily. There wasn't any movement from the boxes.

"Who's Christopher, Connor?" Ellison asked, walking up to the pair.

Megan turned her attention to the men. "He's a young runaway I had found a couple of months ago. He wouldn't tell me his last name or where he was from, but it looked like he hadn't been on the streets for very long. Since he couldn't have been more that 13 or 14 years old, I tried to get him to stay in one of the shelters, but he said he wouldn't take charity. Wanted to earn his place. One of the volunteers at the shelter told us about this place, and he was accepted as a member."

"Have you been keeping track of him here?"

"I've tried, but my schedule over the last two weeks prevented me from coming down. I was working with Taggart on the Henley case. Why are you here? What happened?"

"Good question," Blair answered. "Our latest homeless killing is from this community. Did you meet the leader? He went by the name of Sarge."

Megan smiled. "He's the one who said he'd take care of the boy and would try to convince Christopher to at least call home and let his family know he was all right. Wait. Are you saying that Sarge is dead?"

Ellison answered, "His body was found about four blocks over with his throat cut. Didn't look like he'd been dead for very long. Come on, Chief. We need to get back in and write up the report." He swung around and started walking to his truck.

Blair took a couple of steps and stopped. "Why don't I check the area out with Megan and catch a ride in with her. We can try to talk to that old guy again. He might be more willing to talk to her."

Ellison didn't stop walking. "Your choice, Chief. Just don't take all day. This is your week to do the paperwork." Climbing into the Ford, he started the engine, gunned it once, then pulled out of the area.

"What's got his knickers twisted? Does he know...?" Megan let the sentence trail off.

"About us? Not as far as I know, unless you told him. He is acting a little weird, but he said it was because of the killings."

"I haven't told him anything. We agreed that we wouldn't unless we saw that it was going to get really serious."

Blair gave the Inspector a warm smile and stepped closer until he was standing in her personal space. He was happy to see that Megan wasn't wearing heels, their faces almost aligned. Casually, he put his arms around her waist and drew her closer. "Slow and carefully. That's what you asked for and that's what I'm doing. It'll be up to you if we get serious."

Megan answered the move by placing her arms over Blair's shoulders, encircling his neck. "Well, with your reputation with the ladies, I want to make sure that I'm not just another conquest."

Blair pouted, "The only reputation I have is in striking out with all the wrong women. One of these days, it'll be right and I wouldn't mind if it was with you."

"You definitely are cute, Sandy." Giving the man a soft kiss on the lips, Megan slowly brought her arms back with a silent sigh. "What were you saying about an old man?"

Blair followed the body language displayed toward him and also pulled his arms back. Turning his attention to the crates, he started walking toward them. "He came charging after Jim and me with a baseball bat. I think he's a little disoriented, maybe slightly crazy. Said that everyone had gone to the 'Promised Land' or something like that." Stopping several feet away from where he'd seen the old man disappear, Blair bent over and tried to peer past the covering. "Hello?"

"Go 'way," came a mumbled reply.

Megan stepped forward. "Sir? I'm looking for someone who used to live here. A young man named Christopher. Have you seen him?"

Soft scrambling noises came from the enshrouded crate for several seconds before the blanket covering the entrance was shifted aside. The old man gazed first at Connor, briefly looked at Sandburg, then returned his attention to the Inspector. "The boy is gone. He went with the rest of them. They didn't want me." The last came out barely above a whisper.

"Where did they go?" Blair asked gently. He could see mistrust in the man's face.

The man's eyes strayed to stare beyond the two standing in front of him. The brown orbs took on a dreamy, far away look. "He came from over the mountains, promising to take them away from the hardships of the world... to a place that is always warm, dry and..." A fat tear slowly ran down the bearded face.

Blair shuffled closer, causing the old man's attention to jerk back to his surroundings. The guarded look reappeared on his face, his hands fumbling for his weapon. "Hey, easy. I'm not going to hurt you, man. I just want to ask you one more question. Would you let me get you some help? I know of a place where you can be warm and dry and get some food. Will you let me do that?" Blair extended his hand with the palm up.

"Beware! He's a devil with eyes that can see everywhere. He'll hear your whispered complaints and make you the object of his wrath. Stay away and you won't suffer like the others." With that final warning, the old man retreated into his box and yanked his sparse covering back down to end the conversation.

Standing back up straight, Blair turned to Megan and slapped his hands against his legs in frustration. "What do you think he meant by that?"

"I don't know, but we probably won't get anymore out of him now. At least not until he calms down. If he's right about someone coming in and taking over the group, the homeless killings could be connected. Ready to go in?" Megan asked.

"Came over the mountains and took them to the Promised Land, but he sees everywhere and hears whispered complaints," Blair mused out loud, not hearing the question. His hand strayed to the middle of his chest. Pressing the medallion he wore against his skin, Blair's mind whirled over what he'd heard, creating a myriad of questions. The round object he pressed, marked with the symbol of a wolf to signify his position as a shaman, gave him comfort until a gentle hand on his shoulder brought his attention back.

It was Megan. "Blair? Do you want to go in?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Blair took one last glance at the blanketed crate, then took Megan by the hand and pulled her toward her car. The drizzle had returned. "You're getting soaked. Let's go."

The two climbed into Megan's car and drove away. They didn't see the tall man step from his hiding place on the other side of the viaduct to watch them leave. He was heavily bundled to ward off the chilly moisture, dark sunglasses shrouding his eyes despite the gloominess of the day. Once the car had turned a corner and was out of his sight, he turned and walked toward the Stark Housing Projects.

Major Crime Bullpen, Early Afternoon

Whatever had happened out in the field to create the grumpy mood Jim Ellison was currently in, no one could guess. He had arrived at the Major Crime bullpen looking like a storm cloud, barely acknowledging the greetings from his fellow detectives. After tossing his damp jacket onto the coat rack, he grabbed his mug and headed back out of the room.

About an hour later, he returned with the mug full of steaming coffee. Reaching his desk, Jim looked at it critically. Placing his cup down, he frowned slightly as he shifted a few folders into a pile. The disorder on his desk was not right; it had to be fixed. For several minutes, Ellison spent an inordinate amount of energy going through the different piles of work on his desk until the area was organized.

Then he looked over at Sandburg's desk. Ellison could see that there were several things sitting on the desk that didn't belong to his partner. Someone's paper drink cup was perched on a corner, probably forgotten by its owner in their journey through the room. A couple of case files jutted slightly out from the small stack sitting in the 'In' box, looking as if they were hastily stuffed there by someone hoping they would be accepted as belonging there. A woman's jacket was hanging on the back of Blair's chair. It looked like Connor's jacket. Jim's frown deepened at what he considered obvious inconsiderate behavior being aimed at his partner. He was about to voice his displeasure to the surrounding room when Blair entered the bullpen, holding the door open for Megan.

"Are you two through screwing around underneath the bridges? Where in the hell have you been?" Jim's voice was pitched just loud enough for the people in the surrounding area to easily hear him. Silence filled the room.

Glancing quickly around at the eyes staring at their group, Blair stepped closer to his friend. "We were where you left us; talking to the old man. He gave us a little more information, but--"

Ellison interrupted the explanation by turning back to the desks, his arms gesturing angrily at the errant cup and files. "How come you allow people to walk all over you, Chief? They're dumping their trash and work on your desk." He snatched up the errant cup and slammed it into the trashcan. "They are moving into our space and--"

"Jim...JIM!" Blair grabbed one of the waving arms, pulling his friend's out of his tirade. "What's going on? The cup was probably forgotten by someone unintentionally and I asked Records to send up some files on a couple of old killings that happened in the Projects. It's no big deal, man."

Jim stared at the smaller man for several long breaths, struggling to control the angry emotion that wanted to explode out of him. The deep concern staring from the dark blue eyes of his friend finally brought his temper back into check. Staggering back, he sat down heavily in his chair. "Sorry, Chief. I...I guess I'm just more tired than I thought." Jim rubbed his face.

"You're starting to scare me, Jim." Blair sat on the edge of the desk in front of his friend. He saw Megan staring across the room at the two, a questioning expression on her face, and shook his head at her before turning his attention back to Jim. "Talk to me, man. What are you feeling now?" Blair dropped his voice to prevent anyone else from hearing.

Ellison looked up into Sandburg's face, his mouth opening and close a couple of times before he could speak. "I...I'm not really sure. Tired, mostly, worried for no reason that I can understand and angry at the brutality of the killings."

"What about you fading out on me? Or that little bit of pushing me behind you?"

"I wasn't zoning. It didn't feel like a zone-out--"

"I didn't say it was a zone. You were on full alert, man. It was like you were sensing something that wasn't right or was dangerous."

Jim leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs, dropping his head down. "I don't know. I thought I'd heard something... or felt something. Threatening toward you or me or both of us."

"But you didn't find anything."

"No." Jim sighed and sat back up. "My imagination was probably playing tricks or something."

"And maybe making you a little sensitive around here? I mean, you haven't had a scene like that for some time."

"No--yeah...I don't know. It's possible. Anyway, we'd better go let Simon know what we found with this case." Rubbing his face one more time, he stood up.

Blair leaned over and grabbed his coffee mug. Feeling the side of Jim's mug, he picked it up. "Go ahead. I'll get me some coffee, refresh yours and be right in." Shifting the two cups into one hand and giving his friend a slap on the arm, Blair left the bullpen.

Ellison watched his partner walk away. He hesitated for a moment, took a step to follow, then shook himself back aware and walked over to Simon Banks' office.

"In!" Banks raised voice was easily heard through the door after Ellison knocked. He allowed his detective to come completely into the office and sit down before looking up from the papers in front of him. His eyes widened at the obvious fatigue on the other's face. "You look like hell, Jim. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, Captain. I'm okay. Just got back in from the murder scene. It's similar to the others, with the victim's throat cut probably as the final cause of death. By the lack of blood at the scene, the man was obviously murdered somewhere else and his body dumped there." A bang at the door that sounded like someone kicking it had Ellison jumping up to let Sandburg enter, a steaming mug of coffee in each hand and two files tucked under one arm.

Blair handed Jim his cup, pulled the files out from under his arm and sat down in the empty chair by his friend. "How far did you get?"

"Just started. Tell him what you told me," Jim said, then took a careful sip of the hot liquid.

Blair watched his friend for several longs seconds until he heard Simon clear his throat. He gave the black captain a slightly embarrassed smile. "Right. I recognized the victim, Captain. He was the leader of the homeless community under the Bay Street Bridge by the Stark Projects. I had worked with his group a couple of years ago for a school project and kept in touch since then. Don't know what his real name was, but he went by the name of Sarge." Blair paused to take a drink of his coffee and Jim took over the story.

"When we went over to the area his group had been set up, it was almost deserted. There was only this old guy and he wasn't all there. Mainly ranting that the group had left him and some other old folks there. That's about all."

"Well I got a little more out of him, but I'm not sure how much sense it makes. Megan had asked about a young runaway boy she had helped and the old guy said something about a man coming from over the mountains and making promises of a better place to live."

"Did he say where?" Banks asked

Blair sighed. "Not really. Just that it was a place that was always warm and dry."

"The Promised Land," Jim voiced softly.

"I beg your pardon." Simon stared at the older detective.

Ellison quickly looked up, not realizing that he'd actually said anything. "Oh, nothing. Just something that the old guy was raving about. As for the DB, whoever he'd fought was pretty sadistic with a knife. Most of the wounds, especially the two on the face, looked like they were to cause pain and not to disable."

"Not pretty," Blair mumbled just loud enough for his sentinel to understand the words. Jim nodded in understanding. The two sat quietly, the memory of the crime scene still very fresh.

"So. We have three murders, all homeless men, in the last two weeks. Is there anything in common with them?" Banks spoke up to end the uncomfortable silence that was threatening to descend. He'd seen the paleness of Sandburg's features from the discussion and decided to move the meeting along.

"Just the method of death," Ellison answered. The three sat in silent contemplation for a long minute.

"Well," Blair spoke up, bringing the other two's attention to him. "All three were found within a mile of the Stark Housing. Could it be possible that the others from the community have taken up residence in the old apartments?"

"The buildings were sealed up the minute the Stark Corporation was taken to court, Sandburg." Banks saw the smaller man flinch slightly at the condescending tone he'd used and Ellison jerked his head up to glare at his captain. He softened his tone. "There's a uniformed patrol at regular intervals keeping an eye out for any homesteaders. Since the asbestos problem that shut down the area hasn't been removed yet, the EPA is making sure that no one tries to live anywhere around there."

Ellison remembered the files that Sandburg had brought in with him. "Was there anything in those old cases that came close to matching ours, Chief?"

Blair looked at the forgotten folders in his hands. "I haven't been able to study them very much, but about five years ago there were a couple of homeless men killed in the same area. From the preliminaries, it sounds close, but these guys didn't really die the same way. I'll have to study them more."

"Okay, let's wait until we see who the latest guy was and go from there," Simon decided, reaching for a batch of papers to his left.

"Shouldn't be too hard to get an I.D., sir. If he was former military like Sandburg said, his prints are on file."

"We can also hunt around the area and see if there are any other homeless groups who have heard about this guy that 'came over the mountains'. Right, Jim?" Blair asked, looking over at his partner. He saw the older man massaging his temples. "Jim? You all right?"

Ellison quickly brought his hands back down and straightened up. "Yeah, fine. Let's go to work, Chief." Standing up, he nodded towards Banks, opened the door and strode out.

Blair sat watching the man walk away. He turned his head to see Simon looking at him. Shrugging his shoulders and giving his superior an "I don't know what's happening" look, Blair followed, closing the door behind him.

"Why don't you let me go search out the homeless areas, Jim? I'll take Megan with me so you won't worry and you can head on home and get some rest," Blair suggested when he caught up with his friend.

Ellison had sat down and was checking the drawers to his desk. "Then I'd be worrying about Connor with you. We've got a truce well established and I don't want to end up back to square one after she shoots down one of your attempts to get a date."

"Ha, ha, man. At least your sense of humor is still the same... lacking." Blair leaned over the desk. "What are you doing down there?"

When he'd gotten to the bottom drawer, Jim started digging through it. He pulled out a ragged-edged notebook and a couple of empty Bic pens, tossing them onto the desktop. "I don't know. But it's probably been a while since I cleaned this thing out and--"

"Oh wow, Jim!" Blair exclaimed, snatching up the notebook. "I thought I'd lost this thing." He riffled the pages until he was about half way through.

Looking up, Jim saw Blair gazing at the pages before him like he'd found some lost Incan tablets. "That belongs to you?"

"Yeah, man. This is the notebook I'd started when we'd first met. The notes here are priceless, my first observations of you. I'd thought they'd gotten destroyed or you'd just tossed them."

"Why would I have thrown it away, Chief?"

Blair looked up, seeing the distressed look on Jim's face. "Hey, it's all right. When we'd first starting to work together, you weren't the easiest person to document. You were always wanting to know what I was writing and, you know, would get a little upset when I wouldn't tell you. I guess I'd stashed it in your desk one day and never got back to it. I'd had to use my memory of what I put down when it came to writing some of the early chapters of my diss. Luckily, I also had some similar notes in another notebook."

"How many do you have on me?"

"Ah hell, I don't remember. I'd have to count to be sure. When I stored the oldest ones, I noticed this was missing and thought it had gotten trashed or lost when you packed my stuff..." Blair gave Jim a small shoulder shrug. "Anyway, the most current three are in my room." Blair turned his attention back to the notebook. He flipped over a couple of pages, then smiled at something he'd written.

Ellison stood up, reached over and gently pulled at the notebook in Sandburg's hands. When Blair momentarily held on to it, Jim just gazed into his friend's eyes with a trusting look. The notebook was released.

Jim turned the pages back until he was at the beginning of the journal. He instantly recognized his friend's handwriting, but the words were not in complete sentences. Irritated - impatient. Calms when agreed with. Hesitant to explore unknown ability. Fear?

Blair cleared his throat, unsure how to read Jim's slightly furrowed brow. He fidgeted for a minute before speaking. "You have to remember that those notes were written by a young, impressionable grad student who had just found the one thing he'd been searching for almost his whole life. He was a little... enthusiastic."

Jim peered upward without raising his head, his eyebrow raised. "Was?" His lips quirked slightly at the look of exasperation that was returned. Closing the notebook, Jim presented it back to Blair. "You know, you never did let me read your dissertation; at least not the finished version. Think I might be able to look at it now?"

A pleased smile grew on the smaller man's face. "Yeah, sure. I put it in a safety deposit box after that whole fiasco last year. Didn't want anyone else to get hold of it." Blair dropped his eyes down to stare at his hands, clutching the notebook tightly.

"And this time I promise not to take anything you've written personally, even if it does make me sound like some type of coward."

That brought Blair's head back up quickly to see Jim grinning smugly at him. Knowing that his friend was just trying to bait him, Blair changed the subject. "You all right with me checking out a couple of other homeless areas? I can stick around and do some more research."

"No, you go ahead. I'm just going to make a few more notes on this one, check with the labs to see if they've anything completed, then head home."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll pick up something for dinner tonight. Italian sound good?" Blair looked over toward Megan's desk and motioned her to come when he had her attention.

"Works for me. Get out of here, Chief, before I remember again that this is your week for the paperwork." Jim sat back at his desk and booted up the computer. He turned his attention from the screen to watch his partner leave with Connor. A nagging feeling hung at the back of his mind, something that he couldn't really define. All Ellison knew was that it had something to do with Sandburg and he intended to stay alert.

852 Prospect, Evening, Same Day

Blair trudged up the final set of stairs to the third floor of the building, his mind preoccupied by the lack of success he and Megan had with their search for homeless communities. The enticing aroma of garlic bread from the sacks in his hands also had him distracted so that when he arrived at the entrance to the loft, he ran into Jim kneeling at the door. Only by luck, and quick reflexes, were both men able to keep from tumbling to the floor and keep their dinner safe.

"Sandburg, why don't you watch where you're walking?"

"Jesus, Jim. What are you doing on the floor?"

Both men spoke at the same time as they caught their balance. Barely holding onto their meal, Blair stumbled to the counter to set the bags down. Jim picked up the screwdriver and screws that he'd allowed to drop onto the floor.

"Someone try to break in or something?"

Closing the door, Jim fiddled with the knob of the new deadbolt he'd just installed. Testing the locking mechanism a couple of time, he finally left it engaged and walked over to his roommate. He picked up a second lock and started to prepare it for installation. "I noticed that the lock there was kinda wobbly, so I got new ones for both doors. Guaranteed to withstand the most forceful, unwelcome guest."

Blair stared at his friend for a few long seconds, glanced at the new lock, then returned his gaze. "Okay, if you say so. I hope I'm going to get a key for that thing." His tone was light, but Blair saw Jim's eyes harden. "I'm kidding, Jim," he tried to explain.

Reaching into his pocket, Jim pulled out a key chain that held two brand new keys. He smacked it down onto the counter, then walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of beer. Twisting off the top, he tossed the cap into the trash and walked out of the loft and onto the balcony.

"Damn!" Blair swore, staring down at the keys. The chain had a pewter medallion attached; it was the figure of a baying wolf. Looking back up to where his friend had disappeared, Blair started noticing the condition of the loft.

While Jim Ellison was known as a stickler for keeping a clean house, the appearance of the loft indicated that the man had gone beyond that. The normal one or two coats that hung at the door were missing, as well at the spare set of shoes Blair remembered leaving underneath the rack just this morning. His laptop, hurriedly shut down this morning before running after his departing partner, was not on the table. Also missing were some of his personal figurines that had been displayed on the bookcase. Concerned, Blair walked over to the door to his bedroom.

Looking over to his right, Blair saw the old lock still on the back door of the loft. Jim intended to replace it with the other deadbolt, which obviously belonged to the second key on the chain. Taking a deep breath and holding it, Blair opened the doors to his room. He quickly released the air when he saw that it was not empty; his personal belongings were still in their place. The new additions were his shoes neatly placed by his dresser, his coat hanging over the chair in front of his desk where his laptop also lay and with his figurines.

Walking back out of his room, Blair went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of beer for himself. Opening it, he took a long, deep swallow, then followed after Jim onto the balcony. The man was standing at the far side near the short retaining wall, staring out at whatever had caught his attention.

"Have you had any dreams yet?" Blair asked softly when he reached his friend's side.

Startled out of his thoughts, Jim turned. "What?"

"The dreams, have they started like the last time? Or have you seen another jaguar?"

Jim returned his gaze to the scene beyond his balcony. "No, no dreams. And I haven't seen any strange jaguar..."

"But?"

Jim took a long drink from his bottle before turning around to lean against the short, brick wall. He fiddled with his beer, picking at the label, before speaking. "For some reason, I'm having this overwhelming feeling that I need to protect you, make sure that you're safe."

Blair faced his friend, concern flooding his face. "At the murder scene and the homeless community."

"Yeah, those two places at first. I had this feeling that someone was watching us and... they were a threat."

"To me?"

Ellison nodded.

"How long has this been going on, the urge to protect me?"

~sigh~ "I don't know. A week or two at the most."

"What's the danger?"

"I don't know! That's what has me so frustrated. I thought I'd heard growling when we were searching that homeless area, but I didn't see anything." Jim started pacing back and forth across the balcony.

Blair stepped forward until he was in Jim's path, stopping him short. "Jim, I need you to calm down. We're both aware of it this time, so it's not going to be a repeat of history. If there is another sentinel around, I'm not working with them and you've said that you haven't dreamed of killing me."

Jim flinched at those words, clenching his eyes shut at the memory. The remembrance of that dream, of him shooting a wolf that morphed into his friend, blended into the scene at the fountain in front of Hargrove Hall. Finding Blair floating face down in a fountain; not hearing the comforting sound of his heartbeat; seeing his gray face, blue lips, and still body nearly drove him insane.

"Jim? You still with me, man?"

Ellison opened his eyes to see Sandburg staring up at him, gently grasping his arm. The smaller man was giving him a smile of confidence. "Always, Chief. So what do we do now?"

With a sigh, Blair turned back to the balcony wall. "Stay alert, keep our eyes open and tell the other when either of us see, hear or feel anything. Your feelings are something that we can depend on being true, which means that there probably is another sentinel in your territory. We also need to bring the others into this."

"Others? You mean Simon, right?"

"Him for sure. But the rest of the tribe needs to be put on alert. They were all involved with what happened with Alex, and I'm sure they'll want to help this time."

Ellison stood thinking for several long seconds, thinking, before he nodded and returned to Sandburg's side. "Okay, we'll let them know tomorrow. I'll call Simon's office and leave him a voice mail for the morning."

The two men stood side-by-side, enjoying the cloudy but comfortable evening before Blair broke the silence. "How are you feeling now?"

Jim's eyes were doing a slow scan of the buildings around the loft. "Like someone's out there... watching, maybe. It had been pretty strong when I'd gotten home, so I went back out to the hardware store and picked up the new locks."

"I noticed you'd also cleaned up the place extra special. Trying to protect my things, too?"

Jim blushed slightly and dropped his head down to stare at his bottle. "Well, I didn't think they should just be sitting out in the open and..."

"And you thought that my things were just as important to protect as me. That's pretty cool, man." Blair finished off his beer, then lifted Jim's arm to see that his friend's bottle was also empty. "I'm getting hungry. What say we go check out what I brought home? Shouldn't have cooled off too much."

Giving his friend a quick smile as they turned back to the doors, Jim reached his arm out to give Blair's shoulder a light slap. The two walked back into the loft.

Major Crime Bullpen, Next Day

The area was very quiet when Ellison and Sandburg entered the bullpen. The light was off in Banks' office, Taggart and Connor's desks were empty, Rafe was on the phone in what looked to be a long, deep conversation and Brown was interviewing an elderly lady.

So much for informing the rest of the tribe first thing in the morning. With a sigh, Ellison handed his jacket to Sandburg and turned back to the doors. "I'm going down to Forensics and see if they've gotten anything more on your friend from yesterday. If Simon show--"

"...shows up, I'll corner him in his office and have him gather the rest. They're conditioned to listen and obey his bellow," Blair finished the sentence, then gave the taller man a cheeky grin.

"You are too, Junior." Ellison returned the grin and walked back out of the bullpen.

"Am not," Blair mumbled, hanging up the coats. Looking over, he saw that Brown and Rafe were still occupied with their tasks, and by the looks of it, would be for a while. Sitting down at the computer on Jim's desk, Blair booted it up and started punching in the codes that would give him access. Guess I'll surf through the police database and see if any other city has had cases similar to ours.

Inputting the data concerning the deaths of the three homeless men, Blair sent out an inquiry on the system. While waiting for an answer, he noticed Megan Connor and Joel Taggart enter the room. He watched the Inspector walk in, glance his way and give a secretive smile, then return to her conversation with the former Bomb Squad Captain.

Yup, tonight is going to be special. Yesterday, Blair had asked Megan out to dinner and the opening of a new exhibit at the museum. Jim thought Blair was still dating Shelly from the DA's office and wouldn't question him begging out of the card game that Joel was having at his place. What his senior partner didn't know was the relationship with the paralegal had ended almost a month ago. Blair's job with the police force, and Shelly's loyalty to the DA's office, had caused what many had considered an inevitable breakup. Megan had found out about it, took him out for coffee to talk, and...

Blair's thoughts were brought back to his surroundings by a beeping coming from the computer. It had an answer to his inquiry, the sound demanding he display the information or make another search. Punching the letter 'Y' and the enter key; the screen changed to display a police document. He was soon lost in the information that was presented. So much so, that he didn't notice Banks walk through the bullpen to his office and close the door behind him. Grabbing the 'mouse' next to the machine, Blair clicked on the 'PRINT' icon, then clicked the 'NEXT' button for the second report waiting for him.

"Sandburg!" The Captain's loud voice broke through the other's rapture with the computer.

Blair jerked back away from the screen to see Simon standing in front of the desk, arms folded across his chest. "Captain, I didn't hear you."

"That's obvious, since I've been standing here for several minutes trying to get your attention. Where's your partner? He left me a message that you two wanted a meeting. What's it about?"

Blair stood up and walked around the desk until he was standing in front of the tall black man. He glanced around the bullpen to see if anyone else was paying attention to them. "I'm sure you know how Jim's been acting over the past couple of weeks. Well, we figured out something last night and think you and..." Blair pointedly looked over at Taggart then back toward Brown, Rafe and Connor, "some others should hear."

Banks stared down into the Sandburg's solemn face and read the intent of his words. "My office," he ordered with a jerk of his head.

"Let me grab a report I just sent to the printer. Jim should be back in just a minute. We thought we'd tell you first, then decide how to tell the others."

With a nod, Banks turned back to his office. He had a good idea about what his newest detective was implying. Ever since he'd been involved with the bonding of Ellison and Sandburg almost two years ago, Banks was the only confidant the pair had. Other members of Major Crime had been brought in on the secret of Ellison's abilities as a sentinel last year after Sandburg's dissertation had been inadvertently released. But only that. The connection between the two men, as Sentinel and Shaman, was still a secret.

Entering his office, Simon casually walked around and closed all of the mini blinds. He turned on the radio sitting on the bookshelf across from his desk and set the channel to a light jazz station. Not that he felt his office contained any hidden microphones, it always paid to be safe rather than sorry. Just as he had finished, Blair entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"How has your... uh, I take it you are still getting training?" Banks asked, sitting on the edge of his desk. He felt uncomfortable talking about the bond his two men had. Apparently, as he eventually learned, their connection provided an ability for each to know the other's whereabouts and their condition. Sandburg had a problem a few months back with that connection which also affected Ellison, due to his position as Shaman to his Sentinel. Without training on how to be Shaman, Sandburg's side of the bond started to go rogue. Luckily, he'd been able to find someone who understood what it was and could give him the necessary training to control it.

Blair smiled, understanding the man's reluctance to talk about the subject. Simon Banks was a practical man, not one to easily believe, much less accept, anything of the paranormal. Just getting him to accept Jim's sentinel abilities had been a chore and a half. "It's going pretty good. Roni has cut back my sessions to just once every two weeks, but she's wanting to get me and Jim together a few more times before we're done. Then it'll just be meetings every now and then to make sure that we don't screw it up again."

"So you can just, you know, tell where Ellison is at..." Simon waved a hand in a vague way.

Blair chuckled lightly at his captain's discomfort and shut his eyes. Taking a calming breath, he felt along the bond that connected him with his Sentinel. Unlike Jim, Blair didn't keep an unconscious tap on their bond, but would know in a second if that connection were to disappear.

The bond was there, as he expected, but it felt strange, like it was being buffeted from something on the outside. Concentrating harder, Blair followed along the connection until he found his partner. Jim was in the building, a couple of floors down, but heading back up to the office. Blair could almost feel the intense emotional need to protect and defend vibrating from his friend through the bond. He pushed back along the bond in an effort to buffer Jim from the external pressure and provide the strength the sentinel would need to stay in control.

Banks watched as the playful smile on Sandburg's face quickly faded down into a look of concentration. The young man's breathing increased, his hands clenching into fists. Concerned, Simon leaned forward and rested a hand onto Blair's shoulder, hoping to arouse his attention. At the contact, Simon inhaled sharply. The sensation was like a mild current of electricity going through his hand, up his arm and throughout his body. But instead of jerking his hand away, as another might do when shocked, he tightened his hold and provided Blair a ground.

Feeling the anchoring hold of Simon steadying him, Blair concentrated solely on Jim. With a mental push, he finally broke through to his Sentinel, made him aware of the strength Blair was offering to battle against the intense feelings threatening to overwhelm. He sagged with relief when he felt Jim grab what was offered like a drowning man flailing for a lifeline.

Simon felt the body beneath his hand relax, but the 'energy' he felt jolt through his hand changed. No longer was it the shocky-type feeling that caused the goose bumps to raise on his arms. It smoothed out, becoming a warm, comforting current, and that was scaring him since it now felt like it was flowing through him and back into Blair.

"Sandburg? Blair!" Simon called out, lightly shaking the shoulder under his hand.

Blair opened his eyes, a dreamy expression clouding the cerulean blue orbs. "Got him," he mumbled, then relaxed back into the chair with a pleased smile.

"What do you mean? Got who?"

The door to the office opened suddenly and Ellison stepped through. He quickly closed the door behind him "Me. What were you doing, Chief?" Slightly out of breath, Jim squatted down by Blair's chair.

"Hey, Jim. Man, you should see what Simon can do. I mean, I felt like I had this anchor holding me down." Blair gave his friend a brilliant smile, which quickly faded when he saw the expression on the others face. "You okay? Had another one of those 'going on alert' episodes, didn't you?"

"Don't change the subject. We're talking about you, Chief."

"It was my fault, Jim," Simon confessed. "We came in here and I asked him if he could... with you... you know. I didn't expect him to go catatonic. What was that?"

Ellison opened his mouth to answer, but stopped when he heard Sandburg inhale sharply and jump up from the chair. Concerned, Jim stood up quickly.

Blair was wound up, bursting with energy. "This is like, so fantastic! Jim, I don't feel drained. It has to be because of Simon providing me with the support. Wait, what did you feel when you touched me? How are you feeling?" Blair turned to see his Captain still leaning against the desk, rubbing the hand that had been on the smaller man's shoulder.

"Like I grabbed a live wire." Simon looked down at his hand, then back up at his two detectives. "My hand is still tingling, but I feel fine. Do one of you want to explain to me what just happened here?"

Jim and Blair looked at each other. When Blair held his hands out, raising an eyebrow, Jim shrugged and sat down in a nearby chair. Understanding the action, Blair brushed his hair back from his face and took a quick breath to calm his excitement.

"Okay, let's see if I can make this come out coherent. You remember what Jim and I told you about our bond and how we're able to keep track of each other, though Jim makes it a habit to keep tabs on me more times than not." Blair shot a look at his partner, who just shrugged his shoulders and gave him a smug smile. "Anyway, what we didn't tell you at that time was that I have this, I guess the only thing you can call it is energy, at my disposal that I can use to help Jim."

"And this is what made you the target for the last weirdo," Banks interrupted, which brought a large grin to Sandburg's face.

"Right! The training I've been receiving from Roni has helped me with this, keeping it muted so that others really can't see it. But it wouldn't help anyone wanting it anyway, since I'm keyed to Jim." At Simon's raised eyebrow, Blair blushed slightly and hurried to explain. "The bond we made in Peru links us in a way that I can't be forced to help anyone other than Jim."

Banks held up his hands to stop any further explanation. "I didn't say anything. But if you don't hurry up, I will."

"Okay, okay. We've discovered that I can supply... energy or strength to Jim through our bond. However, it tends to drain me if I try too hard or go very long. But this time, you grounded me so that I didn't have that problem. It was like I could draw the energy from outside of me and not use up my own reserves. Since you're not feeling drained, it must be that I wasn't drawing it from you, but used you to keep myself from being drained."

Simon removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes. When he'd traveled with his men down to Peru so that they could complete their bond, he thought that his only connection with the whole situation was as their 'chief.' A purely iconic role that only required him to keep the Sentinel and Shaman personas a secret from all but a select few. "So you're trying to say that I have some type of hocus pocus that can help you."

"I don't know, Simon. Maybe you do and maybe you're just a conduit that I can draw from. I could set up some tests--" Blair started.

"Whoa, wait a minute. Play guinea pig like Ellison does? Not on your life, Sandburg. Why don't we put this down as a fluke and get on with our work, okay?" There was a slight edge of fear in Banks' voice despite the gruff attitude he was trying to display.

Blair looked over at Jim, catching a 'let's not push it' look. "Yeah, right. Probably was a one-time thing."

Banks cleared his throat as he stood and walked around his desk to sit. "I hope this isn't what you wanted to bring the others in on. They're still having to adjust to Jim and his abilities."

Ellison placed a hand on Sandburg's arm to take over the conversation. "No, sir. It has to do with there being another sentinel in the area."

Seeing the stunned look on Simon's face, Blair walked over to the office door and left to gather the other members of Major Crime.

"There's another sentinel in the area."

A heavy silence hung over the group of detectives after hearing Ellison's statement. Brown and Rafe, standing against the back wall of the office, looked at each other before glancing at Banks for confirmation. Taggart leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest and glared at the speaker. Connor looked at Sandburg, trying to decipher his neutral expression.

"Another one like Alex Barnes?" Taggart finally broke the quiet. At Jim's hesitant shrug, Joel moved his gaze toward Blair. The young man was standing beside his partner, no clear indication of his feelings on the matter. His frown deepening, he asked, "How do you know? Did you toss Blair out of the loft again?"

Ellison colored in embarrassment and dropped his gaze to his hands. He knew that his treatment of Sandburg nearly two years ago, upon hearing of the younger man's knowledge and assistance to the renegade sentinel, had created a rift with Taggart. It had taken a long time to repair the damage. Taggart had been the first of the group to accept Sandburg's presence in Major Crime in the beginning, after the Switchman case. Since then, his friendship with the young man had grown.

Blair stepped forward at Joel's statement, standing beside his partner. "Hey, Joel, that's not fair. Jim's territorial imperative was fully engaged before we even knew that would happen and neither of us were prepared for the outcome back then. Actually, his actions this time are almost opposite. What made us suspicious is his overwhelming need to protect me." Blair grinned down at his partner.

"So what should we do?" Brown asked in puzzlement.

"Since what I'm feeling is not benign, the other is probably similar to Barnes," Jim answered.

"A thief," Megan spoke up. Her voice was tinged with anger, remembering the fight she'd had with the female sentinel before the woman had gone after Blair.

Banks took over the conversation. "We're not sure. Back police reports need to be analyzed for anything suspicious; bypassed alarm systems, crimes committed that defy logic or the individual had to take extraordinary risk."

Rafe raised his hand. "We can take care of that, Captain."

"Good. Also, a check of the hospitals for individuals reporting sensory problems wouldn't hurt." Taggart gave Banks a head nod, indicating that he'd take care of that project. "We only need to look back over the last two weeks. Right?" He looked over at Ellison and Sandburg for confirmation. At their nod, he continued. "But this is only secondary to the current murder investigation. With three dead homeless people and no leads on the perpetrator, the Police Commissioner is starting to ask questions and I need some answers."

"Forensics is still running the most recent man's prints through the system. They expect an I.D. by tomorrow if he was former military. But his autopsy did reveal something new. This guy had been beaten with some type of whip less than 12 hours before his death. There were several fresh welts across the guy's back. Dan checked the reports on the other two and found that victim number two had similar marks."

"Someone is torturing the men before killing them?" Brown asked.

"Or it could be the result of disciplinary actions." Sandburg's statement brought everyone's attention back to him. "Victim number three came from a community where he was considered the leader and it has all but disappeared. An old man left behind told Megan and I that someone came in and convinced most of the people to go with him."

Megan spoke up. "So, maybe this new leader rules his 'community' with an iron fist. Those that don't conform are corrected through beatings--"

"And killed if they become too much trouble. Sounds pretty feasible, Captain," Ellison interrupted. "The problem now is to find out where they've all gone."

"The Promised Land."

"What's that, Blair?"

"It was something the old man said, Joel. That he came from across the mountains and took all but the old and sick away from the hardships of the world where it was always warm and dry." Blair gave a derisive snort. "I'd sure like to find some place around here that was always warm and dry." That brought chuckles from the others in the room.

"Well, it's another clue that you 'detectives' can use to find our killer," Banks voiced as a dismissal.

"One more thing, Captain," Blair added, holding some pages up. "I'd just printed off this from the Spokane P.D. that reported similar homicides of homeless men in January and February. They had four bodies show up in areas around some condemned buildings in the city. When a sweep was done, the only ones found living in the buildings was a small group of homeless who hadn't scattered when their leader deserted them." Blair paused to scan the report. "Yeah, apparently he'd packed up and left with a couple of his helpers after he found out that the police were going to search the buildings. He might be this mysterious man who's shown up here."

"Any other incidents?"

"I think so, but the system was still searching."

"Follow up and keep me aware, Sandburg. Okay, people. I think you all know what needs to be done." At the Captain's dismissal, the detectives left.

Taggart followed Ellison and Sandburg to their desks. "Look, Jim," he started.

Ellison held up his hand. "It's all right, Joel. I know what you meant and why you said it. You don't have to worry this time. It's not going to be a repeat performance."

The black captain smiled, nodded and gave the taller man a slap on the arm. "Good. Just let me know what I can do to help."

"He's a good friend, Jim," Blair commented after the black captain departed. Sitting down in front of the computer terminal, he started typing some keys.

"I know, Chief. What were you telling Simon about other murders?"

"Pulling it up now." Blair held up the pages he'd printed off earlier, but his face was glued to the screen. "This is the report from Spokane. I'm getting another one from Boise, and it looks like there is one more... from Denver."

Ellison took the offered pages and scanned quickly down the paper. "When were those others?"

"In Boise, there were two unsolved murders in October of last year. Both men and they died from having their throats cut. In Denver... here it is. From June until September, there were seven homeless men found murdered around the downtown area. One was a decapitation. It was thought that the men had been targets of a gang of runaways that were trying to take over the area, but nothing was ever proven and the murders are still considered unsolved." Blair tapped the PRINT key, then walked over to pick up the pages from the printer. As he returned, he noticed that Jim was watching him, a pensive expression on his face. "Something the matter?"

"The Denver murders happened not too long after we left, Chief," Ellison said quietly.

Sandburg slowly sat back down, memories flooding back through his mind. "Yeah, you're right. How could I forget trying to hike back to civilization with a broken foot."

"It wasn't broken, it was fractured. It was a couple of the toes that were broken. Your foot was not seriously hurt."

"Speak for yourself, man. It was serious enough for me. It could have kept me out of the academy. You should be grateful that I didn't have you carry me piggy-back as payment for saving your life." Blair grinned mischievously at his friend and received back a scowl, causing his smile to broaden. "By the way, were we ever notified by the Sheriff's office on whether they found Danny Wilkins?"

Ellison shook his head and turned to the work sitting on his desk. "The cabin and surrounding area were searched with no results. They did find a shallow grave covered with stones about a mile away that contained the body of his brother, but any trail was probably washed away by the melting snow."

"Toby." At the jerk of Jim's head to look at him, Blair cleared his throat and fiddled with a pen he'd picked up. "Danny's brother. His name was Toby."

"I remember, Chief. I also remember that he gave me no choice in the matter, and I'd do it again if I had to." The man's light blue eyes locked onto the darker blue ones of his friend, speaking volumes in the silence. After several long seconds, Ellison broke the gaze and leaned over to retrieve his Rolodex. "I'll give the Denver police a call about their cases as well as any information on Wilkins. Why don't you check out Spokane, since it was the closest."

"That I can do after I get us some caffeine. Want your usual?" Blair grabbed both his and Jim's coffee mugs. He looked into the one belonging to his friend and grimaced at the condition of the vessel. "When was the last time you cleaned this thing out? You can't even tell that it was once white under the stain."

"Clean that cup at the risk of your life, Sandburg," Ellison threatened with a mock growl, then chuckled at the smaller man's expression of distaste. "It has character and the coffee tastes just right, so leave it alone."

"It's your health, man," Blair mumbled and walked toward the break room.

When his partner left his sight, Ellison's smile quickly faded. Sorting through the papers Blair had printed out, Jim compared the cases. The murders in Denver ended almost a month before the two in Boise. Two months after that, the ones in Spokane happened. Now they had similar ones in Cascade, over a month later. It definitely looked like there was a trail of dead bodies leading directly to his city and Jim Ellison did not even want to consider what that might mean.

Sandburg leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms high above his head and yawned. Glancing at the wall clock, he saw that the time was after 5 p.m. He'd been researching most of the day, only stopping for a take-out sandwich someone had shoved into his hand sometime during the day.

"It still lives," toned a voice from behind.

Swinging around, Blair saw Henri leaning against a desk behind him. The black detective had his arms crossed over his chest, looking as though he'd been standing there for a long time. "I thought you said that it was Jim who goes catatonic. I've been trying to get your attention for almost 15 minutes."

"Sorry, H.," Blair apologized sheepishly. "It's a studying technique that helped me survive my undergrad days. Had to learn how to shut out my surroundings during my freshman year so that I could study. I was too young to belong to a frat house and the dorms were a little crowded that year. Did you need something?"

"Nah. Just wanted to see if you were showing up for tonight's game. I feel the need to pluck some pigeon clean. Care to be my victim?" Brown smiled broadly and rubbed his hands together.

Blair laughed at the action. "Pass, man. Got a date. No offense, but I'd rather spend the evening sitting across a table gazing at a beautiful woman than one of you guys."

Brown clutched dramatically at his chest. "I'm hurt, man. You'd turn down an exciting evening of sitting around a table with your closest friends, drinking beer, eating junk food and trading insults, to be with a woman?"

"In a heartbeat. She doesn't smoke, likes eating healthy food and has similar interests. There is no choice. Besides, you really don't want to lose anymore money to me this month, do you?"

"Fat chance, Hairboy. Your luck can't hang around too much longer. I just want to make sure that I'm nearby when it happens." Brown straightened and gave Blair a slap on the shoulder. "I'm calling it quits for the day and just wanted to make sure... you and Jim... what you told us this morning..."

"Everything's cool, man. It's like I said, this time is different. Both Jim and I remember the past quite clearly, so we're not going for a repeat."

"Besides, H., I'm sure there are four others besides yourself that would take great pleasure in knocking some sense back into my thick skull if I did backslide." Ellison's calm voice joined the conversation. He'd heard Brown's hesitant words from the hallway and wanted to reinforce the conviction his partner had shown in him this morning. The black detective smiled comfortably and gave Ellison a slap on the arm.

"Nothing back on the prints, Chief. We might as well beat feet outta here."

"Don't have to tell me twice. I stare at that screen anymore and I'll zone out. Good luck at the game, H.," Blair called out to the departing Brown. When the detective was out of sight, he turned to his partner. "Think we convinced him and the others?"

"Do you? You're the one with the psych minor, Chief." Ellison stepped over to the coat rack for his jacket. He also grabbed Sandburg's and tossed it to the young man. "I'm probably safe as long as I don't start asking around for boxes."

Blair swung an arm, backhanding Jim on the arm as the two walked toward the elevator. "Real funny, Ellison. Go anywhere near cardboard and I'll kick your ass."

That caused a genuine burst of laughter from the taller man. He raised his hands to ward off any further blows. "Okay, tough guy. You're starting to get feisty in your old age. I think I better start checking out all those herbal remedies you've been taking."

Blair just smiled, then punched the down button on the elevator. When the car arrived, he suddenly snapped his fingers and turned to head down the hallway. "I'll catch you at home, man. I forgot about some books I left in my locker." Before Jim could say anything, Blair was out of sight.

"You'll never change, kid," Ellison mused, shaking his head. Seeing that the elevator was waiting for him, he stepped on board.

Blair took the long route around the floor that housed Major Crime, checking his watch when he finally arrived back at the break room. Glancing into the room, he found the object of his search. "Megs."

The Australian Inspector looked up from the sink where she'd been rinsing out her coffee cup, a pleased smile on her face. It quickly faded and she glanced through the windows of the room.

"He's gone. I made sure I gave him plenty of time to get out of the building."

"I feel so silly, Sandy. It's like we're trying to sneak around your father's back."

Blair let out a bark of laughter, then quickly sobered. He looked around to ensure there wasn't anyone nearby, he lowered his voice. "Sorry. I've accused Jim of being a mother hen a few times, but I've never thought of him as my father. Anyway, I thought of a different place we might want to go for dinner tonight."

"Someplace exotic enough to worry about my stomach lining," Megan teased.

Blair dropped his head, blushing slightly in embarrassment. "Not this time. I promise."

"Any special mode of dress needed? I want to make sure that I look appropriate."

"You always look appropriate, Megan."

The Inspector gave Blair a pleased smiled. "You are a charmer. Why don't you just surprise me tonight? Pick me up around six-ish?"

"Probably nearer to 6:30. I want to make sure that I look appropriate. See you later." Giving Megan a saucy wink, Blair practically bounced out of the room and down the hall.

Megan leaned slightly so that she could watch Blair walk away. "Definitely cute."

"Did you think the violin was a bit too much?" Blair asked, unlocking the passenger door to his car. He opened the door to let Megan enter. Closing the door, he quickly moved around to his side of the car and climbed in.

"It was okay, until that waiter stumbled against the guy, lost his tray and interrupted our conversation. I am really interested in hearing about all those notes you've taken on Jim that you were telling me about. ~sigh~ At least he wasn't near our table when it happened."

"No, but it did startle our waiter enough to almost give me a bath. Not the type of evening I was hoping for, but I did enjoy the company." Blair leaned over and took hold of Megan's hand. "We can run back by the loft and..."

Taking the initiative, Megan pulled Blair closer and gently covered his lips with her own. The kiss deepened, each leaning closer and savoring the intense feelings. After several minutes, they mutually pulled back.

"That was... um, I don't..... What were you saying?" Megan asked, flustered at the intense look Blair was giving her.

"When?"

"Just before...that kiss. You said something about running by the loft."

"Oh, the notebooks. Right." Straightening back up in his seat, Blair reached for the keys in the ignition and started the car. "We can go pick up the ones I still have and go back to your place. The exhibit is open for a month more. I would suggest we just go to my place, but Jim would pick up your perfume right now. Unless you don't care that he knows." He looked over at his passenger, eyebrow raised in question.

"Your place," Megan decided. "I think he's adult enough to accept our dating. It's not like he's going to gossip about it at work."

"No, but you won't have to listen to the table leg references."

"Pardon?"

Blair pulled out into traffic. "Nothing. Long story that really is too confusing to explain."

The green Volvo pulled carefully into the parking area for residents of 852 Prospect. Since it was a weeknight, there were few places still open. Releasing a quick breathe in relief, he noticed that Jim's truck was absent. Being ever the gentleman, Blair quickly exited his side of the car and trotted around to the passenger side to open the door. Throwing his backpack over his left shoulder, he leaned down to help Megan out of the low vehicle. Making sure that the doors were locked, he escorted Megan across the street to the entrance of the building. A flash of light from the balcony windows on the third floor caught his attention as they were crossing the street.

"What was that?" he mumbled, turning around to scan the parking lot.

"What was what?"

"I thought I saw a flashlight." Walking back across the street, he watched carefully. Another flash skirted across the lower edge of the windows he could see. "There it is again and Jim is not home."

Megan walked back across the street, turning her gaze to the area Blair had been looking. "What did you see?"

Blair knelt down and was rummaging through his backpack. "You know, a light flashing in the window. Looked like a flashlight. I actually saw two flashes. Ah, here it is." Pulling out his handgun, he removed it from the holster. Pulling out his cell phone, Blair held it up. "Stay here and call backup. I think there's an intruder in the loft and I'm going to check it out."

Megan stared at the device. "What do you mean 'stay here.' You're going to need back up now." She started digging through her purse for her own weapon.

Seeing that the woman was not going to take no for an answer, Blair gave an exasperated sigh, opened the phone and dialed 911. "Hi. This is Detective Sandburg with Major Crime. I need a patrol unit to be sent to 852 Prospect Avenue. Possible intruder in apartment 307 and I'm going to need some backup." He listened as the individual on the other end repeated back his message, then closed to phone and replaced it into his backpack. Moving to his car, he unlocked a door, tossed the pack into the back and engaged the lock again as he shut the vehicle back up.

"Okay, if you won't wait here, then follow me. We'll go up the back entrance." Not waiting for Megan to protest, Blair took off at a trot around the building. He stopped abruptly at the corner to the back of the building. The feeling that he was being watched flowed over his being, causing the hair on the back of his neck to bristle. Looking around carefully, he couldn't detect anyone. Sentinel eyesight would really come in handy right about now. Shaking off the feeling, Blair moved forward again.

Checking around the corner, he made sure that there wasn't someone standing watch on the back door. Seeing that it was clear, he crept to the portal and pulled on the handle. It was unlocked, something that was not normal. Figuring that someone must have jimmied the lock, Blair carefully pulled on the handle and slid into the hallway. Megan followed close behind.

When the two reached the third and top floor, Blair turned to Megan. "Go around to the back of the apartment and make sure that no one goes out that way." She opened her mouth to protest, but Blair quickly raised his empty hand to stop her. "Megan, don't argue. Please, let's just do this my way."

Seeing the Inspector frown but nod, Blair walked stealthily down the hall to the front door of the loft. He didn't check to see if the woman had obeyed him. Placing his ear to the wood, Blair listened for any sounds on the other side. Hearing nothing, he pulled the special key chain Jim had given him out of his pocket, slid the key as quietly as possible into the deadbolt and unlocked the door. Leaving the key in the lock, he slowly turned the knob and opened the portal.

The loft was dark, faint light from a street lamp shown through the windows of the balcony. Blair thought for sure that his heart was beating loud enough to warn whoever was in the loft. Stepping silently into the room, he carefully scanned around the darkened room and listened for the intruder. The muffled sound of a drawer being pulled open came from the direction of his room. Gliding quietly across the room, he moved past the kitchen and into the hallway outside his door.

The French doors to his room were closed, but he could hear someone moving around inside. Holding his weapon up into a ready position, Blair reached forward to grasp the doorknob. A female's voice shouting "Freeze, police!" came from the other side of the back door, taking Blair's attention away for just a second. It was a second too long.

One of the French doors swung open suddenly and a dark figure barreled out of the room and directly into Blair, catching him by surprise. Whatever the man had been carrying went flying. The two slammed into the wall, Blair taking the brunt of the action. His back made first contact, knocking the wind out of him, then his head connected with the bricks. His pistol went flying. Pain exploded from the back of his skull, followed by bright flashes across his eyes. But despite being dazed, Blair grabbed onto the shirt of the person who hit him and hung on.

The individual was taller than Blair, using the advantage of his height to swing the smaller man around and into the kitchen. The intruder slammed Blair into the nearby counter, which made him gasp in pain, then raised an arm and delivered a powerful right cross. Blair dropped to the floor, barely clinging to consciousness. He felt the man fumble a hand around his throat and feared that his attacker was going to finish him off by strangling him. But the touch was only for a few seconds, then was removed. The intruder stood up and started gathering the objects he'd dropped during the collision.

Blair raised a hand, clumsily catching the man's pant leg as he walked past toward the front door. "Damn it!" the intruder whispered harshly. He tried to yank his leg away, but Blair rolled over to grab the leg with his other hand and hung on stubbornly. A fist came down, catching Blair on the cheekbone. He crashed back down to the floor, unconsciousness finally enveloping him completely.

The blue and white Ford truck belonging to Jim Ellison slid sideways around the corner and screeched to a halt inches away from the flashing police car sitting in front of his building. An ambulance sat a little further away, back doors wide open and waiting for a passenger. Jumping out of the cab, Ellison didn't even bother to close the door as he ran across the street and into the building. Taking the stairs two and three at a time, he made it to the third floor in record time and flashed his badge at the uniformed officer waiting at the top.

The door to apartment 307 was wide open, light streaming out into the hallway. Jim had to show his badge again to get passed the officer standing in the doorway.

"Sandburg?" Ellison called out, not seeing his partner and roommate when he entered the room.

Connor stood up and beckoned to the detective. "Over here, Jim."

Striding around the counter top, Ellison finally saw Sandburg propped against the wall holding a cold pack to his face. A paramedic was flashing a light into the smaller man's eyes.

"Do you know your name, where you are?" the medic asked, removing the light and writing onto a pocket-sized pad.

Blair winced as he shifted the cold bag on his face. "Blair Sandburg and I'm lying on the floor of my home. I know my birthday and what day it is, so you don't need to ask me those questions. I'm all right."

"What happened here, Chief?" Ellison asked, squatting down by his friend. Tipping his friend's battered face, Jim checked Blair's eyes out. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, hey Jim. I'm fine, really. Just walked in on a break-in. Found this guy in my room messing around, got distracted by a shout in the back hall, and he took me out. I think he got in through the back door cause the front was still locked. According to those guys," Blair waved an arm toward the police standing in the living room area, "it doesn't look like anything was taken. I haven't checked out my room yet."

"Whoever was his accomplice blinded me with a flashlight in the back hall. They took off down the fire escape. I was about to go after him when I heard the ruckus in here. The guy must have left by the front door. Sorry, Sandy." Megan laid a comforting hand onto Blair's shoulder. He looked up and gave her a smile.

Standing up, Ellison walked to the back door and examined the lock. He could see the minute scratches indicating that it had been picked. Silently cursing himself for not changing it the day before, Jim turned back and walked into Blair's room. Hearing a groan from behind him, he looked around and saw Blair being helped up by Megan. The two entered the bedroom.

"Forensics been in here?" Ellison asked, looking around.

"Not yet. What did they want from my dresser?" Blair asked, looking at the open drawers and skewed contents. Realization suddenly hitting him, he stepped up to the dresser. Making sure he didn't touch any of the surface, Blair shifted the clothing tossed on top "They're gone."

"What is?" Jim asked, seeing the look of horror on Blair's face.

"My notebooks." Blair dropped his voice and glanced toward the door of his room. "Remember I told you that I had a few with my current notes on you here? They're gone. I had them stacked on top. Whoever went through the drawers must have been looking for the others. Thank goodness I've still got the first one in my backpack."

"Why would anyone want your notebooks?" Megan asked, stepping closer to the men.

"If he knew of a sentinel who needed help, my books could provide some guidance." Blair looked up at his partner, fear clearly visible in the blue orbs.

"I'll check with the others and see if they lost any of them in their haste to escape." Connor turned and left the room. Neither of the men noticed her leaving.

"It's okay, Chief. We'll..." Ellison paused, slowly turned around.

"Jim?" Blair asked, seeing the man wrinkling his nose. "What do you smell?"

"It's here, Chief. That strange scent that was on the last two murder victims. I can smell it in your room."

Blair could see his friend struggling to identify the scent. "Just relax, Jim. Separate it out so that it's the only thing you can smell. It has to be in your memory somewhere, so allow your mind to process where you remember it from." Blair laid his hand onto Jim's arm, grounding his Sentinel while he searched his memory.

Ellison closed his eyes. The odor in the room was something he had smelled before. It was musty, slightly earthy in nature. But there was something with it that made it seem so very familiar. When the memory hit him, Jim's eyes flew open. "It's from a cave, some type of mining operation. Remember when we went after Simon when Quinn took him hostage?"

Blair grimaced at his partner. "How could I forget? I got shot, thank you. That's not something you tend to forget."

Ellison shot his friend a stern look. "That cave we used for protection was the entrance to a mine. The operation had been abandoned a long time ago, which gave it a musty, unused smell. This odor is very similar."

"You don't think..."

"They couldn't be staying there. Too far away for them to be dumping bodies here in Cascade," Jim replied, dismissing the idea. Cocking his head slightly, he listened for a couple of seconds, then took Blair by the arm. "Forensics is here. Let's get you settled onto the couch and wait for Simon to get here. He said that he'd follow."

Blair pulled his arm away from Jim's hand and turned to leave the room. "Jim, I'm okay..." he started to say when the room took a strange dip, causing him to sway on his feet. "Whoa. Who moved the floor?"

"No one, Chief. Quit trying to be a tough guy in front of Connor and let me help you to the couch. Those paramedics still out there?" Ellison's last question was directed to Connor, who'd just returned to the door. At her nod, he clasped both hands onto Sandburg's shoulders and guided his roommate out.

Two hours later, the last policeman had left, Capt. Banks closing the loft door after them. He'd arrived an hour earlier and had been briefed about most of the evening's events from Connor. Now that they were alone, he wanted to get the rest of the story.

Ellison was still prowling around the loft, checking the other doors and windows to ensure all were secured. After the backdoor deadbolt had been dusted for prints, Ellison had switched it for the new one he'd bought earlier. Taking the key chain that an officer had given him after removing it from the front door, he handed it to his partner.

"Here, Chief. I should have changed the lock last night. I'm sorry."

"About what?" Jim gestured to the darkening mark on Blair's cheek. "This? It's partly my fault that he was able to do this. If I'd remembered some of the self-defense stuff from the academy, it might not have happened."

"Let's not start the mutual castigation, gentlemen," Banks interrupted, sitting down onto the loveseat near Sandburg. "It's getting late and I don't want to spend the rest of the night listening to you two trying to take the blame for the other. Which one wants to play Paul Harvey and give me the rest of the story?"

"This was not just a simple break-in, Captain. Whoever it was came here specifically to get my notebooks."

Banks stared at Sandburg, then looked up at Ellison standing beside the couch. Seeing that his detective was not going to supply any information, he turned back to Sandburg. "And the importance of them is?"

"I've kept notebooks concerning Jim ever since I started working with him. They are my observations and theories of his abilities as well as how we've solved some of the problems he has had over the years. The ones taken tonight were the last ones I'd been working on before my dissertation went public." Blair's quiet voice brought the Captain's full attention back to him. "Probably the only people that might be interested in what I wrote are either another sentinel or someone who's wanting to help a sentinel."

Simon's eyes bored into the smaller man. "Is there anything in those books concerning Peru and afterward?" He had a vivid memory of the little ceremony Sandburg had gone through to 'find' his spirit animal and complete his bond with Ellison.

Blair caught the meaning of the question. "No, nothing about the stuff since then. That notebook is in my backpack along with the very first one I'd completed. They're locked in my car outside."

"There's something else, sir. I noticed a specific odor in Sandburg's room that I'd smelled at the last two murder scenes of the homeless men. I couldn't distinguish it until tonight with Sandburg's help. It's a stale, musty smell that you would associate with mine caverns. I remembered it from that cave we'd gotten trapped in by Quinn."

That statement caused the Captain's eyebrows to raise in surprise. "I don't think I like where this is leading, Jim."

"I don't either, sir. But unless Sandburg has started playing around in old mine tunnels recently, it's starting to look like the murders could be connected to the intruding sentinel."

Silence reigned in the room for several minutes. It was finally broken by Blair. "Alex used her abilities to pull off high tech robberies. She had no idea what she had, but she could use them just enough to commit the crimes. You were aware of her entry into your territory by seeing her spirit animal. With this one, you've been aware of his or her entry into your territory purely by instinct and your feelings. But you haven't seen any spirit animal, have you?"

Ellison shook his head in the negative. "I thought I might have heard one the other day near that deserted community you knew about, but I don't know."

"Does this mean that Sandy is going to be the target of another bugger who wants to get at Jim?" Megan asked of no one in particular.

"NO!" Both Jim and Blair said emphatically.

"Not if I have any say about it," Ellison added.

"Well, this does constitute the requirement for you to have a shadow, Sandburg. However, I'm not sure I can use the fact that its because you have the knowledge that can help a sentinel." Banks pulled his long body off the loveseat and stretched.

"They might be satisfied with my notes, Simon. They are pretty detailed. What's so funny?" Blair asked looking up at his partner who'd started to chuckle.

"I've read your notes, Chief. The only way they could understand what you wrote is if they know how to interpret Sandburg. I'm not even sure that I could decipher what you put down, and its about me." That drew chuckles from all but Blair who just scowled.

"Okay, then we keep alert and you're not to go out on any calls on your own, Sandburg. I know I don't have to tell you what to do, Ellison." The taller detective just nodded, his jaw clenched in determination. "We'll bring the rest of the office up to speed tomorrow, which means that I need to get out of here now or I won't get any sleep tonight."

"Could I trouble you for a ride to my place, Captain?" Connor asked hesitantly.

Banks eyed the Australian for a moment before nodding, not asking the question that hovered at the tip of his tongue. Grabbing his coat off the dining room chair where he'd tossed it when he'd arrived at the loft, the black captain walked over and opened the front door. Allowing the inspector to precede him out, Banks paused for a moment and gave both men a meaningful look. Then he left, closing the door firmly behind him.

"I think I better head off to bed," Blair murmured, pushing himself off the couch. "Goodnight, Jim." He hoped to escape what he knew would be pertinent questions concerning Megan's presence in the loft and her need to get a ride back to her place.

Ellison just watched his roommate walk to his room. Before Sandburg disappeared completely through the doors, he called out, "G'nite, mate." The accent he used was definitely Australian.

Blair hesitated for a moment in the doorway, then continued in. A wise man knew when and where to debate an issue, and Blair knew that tonight was not the proper time. He quietly closed his door and prepared for bed. He ignored the chuckles coming from Jim as the other headed up the stairs to his own room.

Two figures, one obviously a youth, walked quickly through the alley in a rundown business area, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Coming to the end of the block, they glanced at the road to ensure there wasn't any traffic, then trotted across to the next block. They were half way through the next block when a tall man stepped from a doorway.

"What happened? I could hear the sirens."

The bolder of the pair stepped forward, holding up the objects he'd been carrying. "We were interrupted. But I was able to get these. They were the only ones I could find."

The tall man reached forward and took the books with one hand. He grabbed the other's wrist with his free hand and yanked him forward. He took a sniff at the trembling man. "You were interrupted by Sandburg, weren't you? Small guy with curly hair. Don't lie to me, Teddy. I can tell if you do."

"I...I don't know who came in. I didn't take the time to ask any questions. He was shorter than me and I think he had long hair. I didn't hurt him. I swear."

The tall man tightened his grip on the other's wrist. He could feel the bones grinding together. "I told you that you were not to touch Sandburg. Do you have a problem remembering things that I ask of you?" The man's voice lowered, carrying a deadly tone.

"N-n-o sir. I'm s-s-sorry. I didn't even know h-h-he was in the apartment until I heard a woman shout at Vinnie. I was just trying to get out of there as fast as possible and he was standing in the doorway. Please, give me another chance." Teddy's voice was full of terror.

The man was silent as he considered the information. Briefly he increased the pressure on the wrist, causing his prisoner to cry out, then released the arm. Teddy collapsed to his knees. "You're one of my best... procurers, Teddy. Since I still need your services, I'll let you get by with a warning. Next time, you'll be having a conversation with Bernie and Thomas. Remember that." Stepping away, the man disappeared quietly into the shadows.

For several seconds, only strained breathing could be heard in the alley. Finally, Teddy struggled up from his knees. His smaller partner, Vinnie, helped him stand when he swayed. "How did he know? I didn't describe the guy, but he knew who I'd knocked over." Teddy tried to move the fingers of his injured hand, grimacing at the pain.

"You got off easy, Ted. I'd just be happy for that. Come on, I'll get you home." Vinnie started leading his friend down the alley.

Next Day

"All I'm trying to say, Jim, is that Megan and I are just testing the waters to see if our mutual attraction is going to lead anywhere. Come on, man. It's not like we're really working together anymore. So it's not fraternization," Blair explained tiredly. He thought, hoped, that the issue wouldn't be brought up so soon in the morning, and Jim had not asked any questions until the two were in his truck and heading for work. He asked the casual 'so how long have you two been dating' question before they were even a block away from the loft.

"Okay, then how long has there been a 'mutual attraction'? Since she's arrived?"

"No, since around the time we helped Vince Deal. You remember. She had to play act as this rich guy's wife and I was her crazy lover who threatened her--"

Ellison held up his hand, but didn't take his attention away from the road. "I remember, I remember, Chief."

"Well, as part of the cover, we kissed. And... it just turned out that we really didn't have to act. I mean, we both felt a spark when we kissed."

"Too much information," Ellison groaned. Pulling up to a red light and stopping, he turned to his partner. "Just make sure that your 'attraction' doesn't interfere with work. Okay? What I don't..."

Blair looked at his friend when he didn't finish the sentence. He saw Jim staring past him out the passenger side window. Turning to look, he couldn't see anything. "What do you see, Jim?"

Ellison cranked the steering wheel and stepped onto the gas pedal, causing the truck to scream around the corner. The vehicle fishtailed slightly, but Jim kept tight control and started weaving through the traffic around him.

"Whoa, man!" Blair yelled, clinging to the armrest on his door. "Warn me before we go into pursuit. Should I call it in?" He didn't receive an answer. Jim just glanced at him, his blue eyes blazing, then focused back onto the road. Forgoing any further questions, Blair just settled more firmly into his seat and tightened his grip on the armrest.

The mad chase didn't last very long. They'd only driven a few blocks before Ellison slammed on the brakes and pulled off the road in front of an alley. He swiveled his head around to scan the area, eye, ears and nose on full alert. Then, just as suddenly, he slumped back and closed his eyes.

"What was it, Jim? Who did you see?"

"Not who, what," Ellison answered. "I saw a cougar standing inside a doorway."

"Cougar. As in big mountain cat?"

Jim nodded. "It was staring at us. When I turned the corner, it took off running down the street. I saw it turn here, but it's a dead end."

"It's a spirit animal, man. There is no way you could have caught one of them."

"I know. Maybe I was just hoping--" The radio crackled to life, the operator giving their call sign. Picking up the mic, Jim acknowledged the call.

"Det. Rafe is requesting that you meet him on TAC 2."

"Roger, dispatch." Leaning forward, Ellison turned a dial. "This is Ellison. Go ahead Rafe."

"Are you on your way to the station, Jim?"

"Affirmative."

"You need to detour over here to Jefferson and 15th. We're in the alley behind the tenement. H. and I were called by Homicide to meet them here concerning a body. It looks like another homeless guy."

"That's only two blocks away, Jim."

Ellison looked over at his partner and noticed how he paled with the information. "We'll be there in about five minutes."

Parking the truck behind Rafe's sedan, Ellison and Sandburg exited their vehicle and made their way toward the uniformed officers standing at the entrance of the alley. A plain-clothed man stepped through the officers and waited until they approached. It was Det. Franchs.

"Ellison. Sandburg. This one is... bad." The detective looked almost green.

With a nod, Jim moved passed and into the alley. Blair hesitated.

"How bad?"

"He was castrated. I don't know if he bled to death from that or from the word carved into his body."

Blair looked the larger man in the eye, seeing how upset the veteran detective was, and waited until he could finish.

"The word 'rapist' was cut into his chest. I guess who ever did it decided to make the punishment fit the crime. God, what a way to die. You don't want to see it, kid." Franchs caught Sandburg's arm as the smaller man started to step past.

"Have to back up my partner. Thanks anyway," Blair voiced quietly. Franchs nodded and released the arm.

Stepping through the officers, Blair started up the alley to where he saw Jim standing up and turning away from the body. He was able to see the legs of the victim jutting out from behind a dumpster.

Jim walked quickly to intercept Blair before he got too close. "Don't come any nearer, Chief. You don't need to see it." Taking his friend by the arm, Jim led him back toward the entrance with Rafe and Brown following.

"Fine with me, man. It has to be bad if Franchs is getting green around the gills. Were you able to detect..."

"The smell is there, Chief. He's from the same place," Ellison answered the unfinished question. At the strange looks provided by both Brown and Rafe, he explained. "On the last two victims, I detected a strange smell, but couldn't figure where I remembered it. Last night, we had an unwelcome visitor at the loft that Sandburg walked in on. Luckily, he didn't do too much damage."

Blair rubbed the side of his face that showed an obvious bruise. "Speak for yourself," he mumbled barely loud enough for the others to hear.

Jim laid a hand on Blair's shoulder. "No damage to the loft, that is. He did ransack Sandburg's room, but you really couldn't tell." Blair rolled his eyes, eliciting chuckles from the others. "An important fact is that there was a lingering odor in the loft that matched what I smelled on the last two victims and now this guy. It's a musty, sort of earthy smell you would get from an old mine cave."

Blair took over the explanation. "So the logical assumption is that the intruder came from the same place as the homeless victims, who were taken to a place that was always warm and dry. An abandoned mine somewhere not too far from where we've been finding the bodies."

"What did he want from your room?" Rafe asked.

Blair looked up at Jim, his eyes asking for permission. The taller man gave a single nod. "Ever since I've been allowed to ride with Jim, I've been keep journals about him."

"You mean about all that stuff he can do," Brown prompted.

"Yeah, his senses. I needed to record his abilities and track his progress as he became more comfortable with using them and learned new stuff."

"All those notes were what you used to write your paper." Brown's statement caused Sandburg to flush slightly in embarrassment. There wasn't any reaction from Ellison.

Rafe brought the conversation back on track. "And the only thing taken last night in the break-in was these journals? Why?"

"We," Blair looked pointedly at his partner, "believe that the intruder wanted them for the sentinel Jim is sensing. Luckily, he only got a few. Most of my notebooks are stored away."

"Quiet!" Ellison ordered, swinging around in the alley. "Did you hear that?"

The other three men fell silent, stretching their hearing. But the only sounds that came to their ears were cars from the nearby street, low conversation from the uniformed officers and the police radio. Ellison, on the other hand, obviously heard something more and started walking back up the alley. The other three followed.

The passageway ended in a 'T", the two ends dead-ending at back doors of businesses. Ellison stopped and canted his head to enhance his hearing ability. Zeroing in onto the sound, he strode down the left branch and to another dumpster. He stopped suddenly.

"One of you call an ambulance," he called back quietly. Seeing Rafe take off back up the alley, Ellison returned his attention to the woman and squatted down. "It's all right, ma'am. I'm a policeman."

Moving up to his partner, Blair saw the object of Jim's attention. An obviously traumatized woman huddled down beside the dumpster, her eyes wide in a blank stare. She clutched a blanket tightly about her body, flinching when Blair's foot scraped the ground, but not becoming aware of her surroundings.

"Jim, check the area with your nose. She might be that guy's victim." Blair gestured back toward the body. "Maybe they left her here to get some professional help that they couldn't provide in their community."

Ellison took a breath. He looked at his partner, nodded, then turned his attention back to the woman. "Ma'am, can you hear me?" The woman flinched again, clutching the blanket tighter.

Rafe returned and moved closer to Ellison. "Paramedics on the way, Jim. Need a hand?" He took a step toward the crouched man, but halted at the squeak of fear that emanated from the woman. Carefully, he moved backwards until he was at Brown's side.

"Let me try, Jim." At the nod from his friend, Blair moved carefully forward. "You're safe here, ma'am. No one will hurt you." He dropped his voice down to the level he always used with Jim when his senses went out of control and continued to murmur phrases of safety. He mentally concentrated on projecting feelings of security toward the woman. After a few minutes, she blinked and her eyes lost some of the blankness. Turning, she looked at the two men in front of her, brown eyes locking onto Blair's dark blue ones. He continued to talk to her soothingly until he heard Jim whisper that the paramedics had arrived.

"We're here to help you. There are two people who want to take you to a very safe place. Will you let them do that?" The woman continued to look at Blair as he reached an arm out, palm open. When she didn't shy away, he leaned forward and lightly placed his hand onto her arm.

Flinching slightly, the woman looked down at the hand, then back up into the kind face of the long-haired man in front of her. She allowed him to help her stand up and walk away from the wall, toward a man and woman in uniforms. She hung back when the two strangers took a step toward her.

Ellison moved around his partner toward the paramedics. He spoke quietly to them until they nodded. Turning to Sandburg, he motioned with his hand and stepped back.

As if he was helping an aged person over rough ground, Sandburg gently led the woman forward to the female of the medical pair and released her. She started for a moment, looking at Blair with fear flooding her eyes. "It's okay," he told her carefully. "These two will take very good care of you. All right?"

The woman stared into his eyes for several long seconds. Then, accepting whatever she saw in the gentle blue depths, she nodded and shuffled forward into the woman's arms. As she was led past the bloody remains of the murder victim, the paramedics shielded her from the body. Without any incident, the woman was placed into the ambulance. It drove off with a scream of the siren.

"Way to go, Hairboy!" Brown exclaimed, throwing an arm around the neck of the smaller detective. In a camaraderie type manner, he tightened his hold and rubbed Sandburg's head. "You really have a way with the ladies, good and bad."

"Cut it out, man," Blair groused, trying to wriggle out of the hold. "Come on, H. Not the hair."

A strong hand latched onto Brown's wrist, wrenching the arm away from Sandburg's neck. Looking at who'd grabbed him, Henri saw the stern face of Jim Ellison. The taller detective, still holding firmly onto the arm, took his other hand, grabbed Brown by the front of his shirt and slammed him back against the nearby brick wall. A low, almost feral growl rumbled from his throat.

"Stay back!" Blair shouted, jumping forward to stop Rafe from going after his partner. Henri was struggling in Jim's grip; trying to get loose, but not for air. Seeing this, Blair stepped around until he was facing his partner and placed one hand to the side of Jim's face and the other around his wrist.

"Jim, I'm all right. Henri wasn't hurting me, so you don't have to protect me." Blair's voice dropped down to the special timbre reserved especially for his partner. "Listen to me, Jim. You can let Henri go. He's your friend and you're starting to scare him. You're scaring me, man. Come on back." Beside his voice, Blair also sent his plea through their bond.

Blair saw a flicker of recognition in the blazing blue orbs and the hands relaxing. Jim blinked, took a deep breath, and released Henri. Taking advantage of the situation, Blair inserted his own body between the two men, grabbed onto both of Jim's hands and gently moved his friend back a few steps.

"Blair?" Jim looked down into his friend's face, concern plastered across the smaller man's features. "What happened?"

Sandburg grinned and relaxed, releasing Jim's hands. His partner was back. "You tell me. What were you just feeling?"

Ellison shook his head, trying to clear the fogginess that remained. "I thought... you were in danger and I had to help you. What's going on?"

Blair looked backward to see Rafe holding onto Brown and walking him away from the pair. Turning back, he saw fright building into his friend's eyes. "It's okay, Jim. You just went into a major sentinel mode thinking that H. was trying to hurt me. You made him let go, but you didn't hurt him. It was amazing, man. I've seen you get really intense when there was danger around, but I've never seen this aspect in you. How are you feeling now?"

Ellison rubbed a hand across his face, his mind still confused. He knew he should talk to Sandburg, but he couldn't put into words the emotions that had flooded through him and still were affecting him. With a shake of his head, he started walking out of the alley.

"Jim, don't shut me out," Blair called out to his partner's back, causing Jim to halt in his tracks. He looked back over his shoulder.

"I--I'm not, Chief. I just need..." Jim motioned toward the street, then resumed walking.

Accepting the answer, though not understanding it, Blair followed. He kept a conscious hold onto his connection with Jim, monitoring the intense feelings he was getting through the bond.

When Ellison reached the bed of his truck, he stopped and leaned against the side. Listening, he heard the conversation between Brown and Rafe, the former trying to convince the later that he wasn't hurt, just confused about what had just happened. He could also hear the approach of Sandburg behind him, his respiration and his heart rate slightly elevated. The younger man stopped and leaned against the truck.

"It was like I wasn't in control, but someone else was," Jim finally said, continuing to look away from the scene. "He felt that you were in danger and had to make sure that you were safe. I was watching it happen, and didn't want to stop it."

"Do you think that He is somehow connected with your sentinel abilities?"

"More like He is the sentinel in me."

Blair rubbed his furrowed brow, trying to figure out what it all meant. "Can you feel Him now?"

Jim shook his head in the negative. He opened his mouth to try and explain when the sensation of the other sentinel being nearby tickled the edge of his senses. He straightened his stance and started scanning around the area. He felt Blair's hand take firm hold of his arm.

"You're feeling him nearby, that other sentinel, aren't you?" At his partner's nod, Blair took a firmer hold and stepped closer to Jim's side. "Don't allow the feeling to control you. You have to... you can control it. Where is it coming from?"

Feeling Blair's anchoring hold, and soft low tones giving his guidance, Jim allowed his whole attention to focus on the intruding feeling without fear of getting lost. Swinging his gaze around the area, the strongest feelings seemed to be coming from down the street. The logical part of his mind told Jim that the Stark Housing Projects is in that direction.

Major Crime, Same Day, Early Afternoon

Ellison stood in front of the large wall map of Cascade. Searching the street names, he placed a finger at one point and reached a hand back to his partner. Sandburg handed him a straight pin with a small red flag attached. He placed the pin where his finger had been pointing "The first body was found here on the east side. The second was over here to the west." He grabbed another pin and placed it at another point on the map.

"The third was near the Bay Street Bridge, to the southeast," Blair added, placing a pin at a coordinate. "With this last guy over--"

"Back toward the west," Jim finished. "Each body was found from one to four blocks away from the Stark Housing Projects. That just seems way too coincidental."

"Here's another piece to add to your puzzle, Jim." Taggart moved up to the chart, holding some papers. "Bunco has received reports from some of their snitches that a few of the working ladies have disappeared from their normal routes, which happen to be not too far from that area." He pointed to a couple of areas on the map that were within a half mile of the Projects. "A couple of the pimps have been throwing fits thinking their girls have either deserted or were stolen from their stables. Now, whether or not the disappearances are connected..."

"Anything from B and E?" Banks asked, looking at Rafe and Brown.

"No clear pattern, but there have been some burglaries in the area," Brown answered, referring to the computer pages he was holding. "Mostly from some of the grocery and clothing stores. The managers of the food chains found boxes of canned goods missing, but not so many to have it considered anything more than pilfering. One or two restaurants have reported food missing from their freezers, but no indication of break-ins. Employees are under suspicion with those." Brown answered.

Rafe pulled out his notebook, and flipped through a couple of pages. "We did check around for odd burglaries like you asked and there hasn't been anything officially reported. However, on a hunch, I did go talk to some of the specialty stories that were near to the murder sites and asked if they had had strange things happening, but just didn't report them. While they didn't see any evidence of theft, several are going to perform inventories just to be sure. The manager of the pawn shop over on Bay Street didn't want to admit anything was missing, but one of his employees told me later that a few things were gone."

"Let me guess, they were things that weren't quite legal and should have been reported to the police in the first place." The sarcasm was heavy in Banks' voice.

"You got it, Captain. One piece was a fully automatic rifle along with bullets. Also taken were a couple of knives and a Tazor. Considering the amount of bondage paraphernalia hanging in that shop, along with the other junk, I'm surprised the guy could even keep track of anything there."

"This guy must be a real sicko," Blair commented.

"The owner of the shop or the one who stole the stuff?" Ellison asked quietly, then raised his voice back to the group before receiving the answer. "Everything we have points to the Housing project being used as a base of operations. However, there is no sign that anyone is living there."

"With the size of the area, if we start a building to building search, several can be expected to slip away." Banks moved to stand in front of the rest of his team. "Especially the guy we're after. So, until we're able to locate where this group is, this will become a night operation of surveillance only. Set up your schedules and let's try to get this case solved as soon as possible." To dismiss the group, Banks waved his hands in a shooing motion. "Sandburg, Ellison, either of you know where Connor has disappeared to?"

Blair's head jerked up to look at Jim. The older man gave him a small shake of his head before turning back to his desk. "Not since last night, sir. Why?" Looking around the bullpen, Blair realized that the Australian inspector wasn't present.

"Do I need to get permission from you to find out where one of my people are, Sandburg?"

Blair gave an embarrassed smile. "Uh, no."

"I didn't think so. If she calls or comes in, I want to talk to her." Walking into his office, Banks closed the door firmly behind him.

Blair walked over to his desk. "Someone must not have had his daily Valium." Hearing Jim snort in agreement, Blair sat down and stared at the phone, trying to decide if he was going to call Megan or not. He'd hoped that she would be in by now so that he could apologize for their interrupted evening.

"Are you going to call her or not, Chief?" Jim's voice broke through his thoughts. Looking over, Blair saw his friend staring at him.

"What?"

"Are you going to call Connor to apologize for the interruption of your plans last night?"

"Developing that psychic sense, Jim?"

"Nah, just using my vast experience of being able to read your expressions. Pick up the receiver and dial the number so that we can get some work done. I'm going to check with Brown and Rafe on what time they want to take tonight and, when I get back, I expect you to be done and ready to work." Giving Blair a smack onto the back of his head, Jim walked away.

"Partner abuse," Blair spoke just loud enough for his departing friend to hear. He saw Jim raise a hand to signal that he heard the remark. With a quiet chuckle, Blair turned his attention back to the telephone in front of him. Just as he leaned forward to pick up the receiver, it rang. Startled, he hesitated before answering it.

"Detective Sandburg."

"Sandy? I'm glad you were the one that answered."

"Megan? Is something wrong? Where are you? Simon wants to talk to you."

"Nothing is wrong. Well, not really. I was checking around the Bay Street area hoping to find Christopher, and my car has broken down. It has petrol, but the engine won't turn over. I've a call into my service club, but it's going to take them over an hour to get here. Do you think you could come and pick me up?"

"Sure. Just let me leave a note for Jim and I'll be right there. Where are you?"

"About a block from those boarded up buildings on King. Not really the type of area I would have chosen to break down. Could you hurry?"

"As fast as I can. Just stay in the car and lock the doors. Bye." Hanging up the receiver, Blair looked around to see if he could find Jim. Not seeing his partner in the vicinity, Blair grabbed a pad of paper and hastily scribbled a quick note. He placed it in the middle of Jim's desk, grabbed his jacket off the coat rack and was out of the Bullpen before anyone could stop him.

Ellison returned to the bullpen stuffing the last of a donut into his mouth. He'd been side-tracked by the young lady who brought around the snack wagon when he saw his favorite confection sitting on top. Knowing the argument he was going to get from his partner, Jim had taken his time returning to his desk in order to enjoy the donut.

Upon reaching his desk, he saw the note in Blair's handwriting. Picking it up, Jim felt a shiver crawl down his spine as he read the message. It was simple enough, but why did he have this feeling of apprehension? Looking up, he saw Joel Taggart walking past. "Hey, Joel. You see Sandburg leave?"

The large, black captain changed his direction and approached, glancing down at his watch. "He passed me in the hallway, heading for the stairs maybe 10 or 15 minutes ago. Why? Something wrong?"

Ellison scanned the note again, his face a mask of concern. "No... I don't think so. He left a note saying that he was going to go pick up Connor. Her car broke down. I just have this feeling..."

"Knowing about your feelings on things, I'd trust them, Jim."

Nodding in agreement, Jim started heading for the elevator, picking up his jacket on the way. Taggart met him at the doors. Waiting for the car to arrive, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in the number for Blair's cell phone. It rang almost four times before it was answered. "Sandburg, where are you?"

"Oh, hey Jim. Didn't you find my note?" Background noise indicated that he was still in his car and in traffic.

"Yeah, I found it. But why didn't you wait for me or at least take someone with you?"

"Come on, man. I'm just going to pick up Megan; it's broad daylight. We'll be back there before you know it. I can see her car now."

Ellison clutched the receiver, closed his eyes and did a quick count to ten before he spoke. "Chief, I'm getting one of those feelings with this." He felt a tap on his arm. Looking over, Taggart was motioning for him to get onto the elevator.

"Really? That's pretty cool, Jim." The excitement in Blair's voice could easily be heard over the line. "We'll have to talk about this when... What the hell?"

"Sandburg? What's happening?"

"Her car is empty. Hold on. Let me check the door."

Before Jim could say anything, he heard the car being placed into park and a door opening. By the sound of it, Blair was carrying the phone with him. "Sandburg? Blair, get back to the car," he practically yelled into the telephone. Jim increased his hearing so that he could hear his friend walking away from the vehicle. There was a metallic sound, which he figured was Blair testing the door handles. Then he heard Blair call Megan's name.

"This is really strange, Jim. It looks like she locked the car up and left. Wait. There she is. There's a kid with her."

The elevator opened up into the basement garage and Ellison trotted quickly over to his truck. Taggart followed close behind. "Sandburg, I want you to get back into your car and- -" He was interrupted when he heard a shout on the other end of the phone. "Sandburg!" Both men jumped into the truck, the engine roared to life and careened out of the garage.

"Hey! What do you guys think you're doing?"

Blair's yell wasn't into the phone, but it was loud enough to make Jim yank the receiver away from his ear. Carefully returning it to his ear, he listened as his partner broke into a run, heading toward the voice of Megan arguing with someone. He didn't notice Taggart placing his red police strobe light onto the dash.

"Sandburg!" he yelled, hoping to get Blair's attention.

"Why don't you guys--" Blair's statement was interrupted by a loud crackling sound over the telephone, then it went dead.

"Is he all right?" Joel was clutching at the back of the seat with one arm and the armrest on his door to keep from being tossed around the truck interior.

"Here," Ellison growled, throwing his phone at Taggart. "Try dialing his number. Speed dial number is 1. It sounded like he saw Connor in trouble and he was going to help. The phone just went dead."

Joel struggled to comply with the request, but it was hard to use the phone and keep from being slammed around the inside of the truck. After two attempts to call Blair, he closed up the phone. "It says that the phone is no longer in service. That sounds bad."

"Very," came the grim reply. Jim slammed on the brakes of the truck, just barely missing a bicyclist, then stomped on the accelerator to bring speed back up. The feeling that his partner was definitely in trouble resonated through his body and Jim was having a hard time keeping his attention on the road. When the cell phone call had ended abruptly, Jim had felt an electric surge through his bond with Blair, something akin to grabbing a live wire. And while he wanted to take the time to feel along the connection, make some type of contact with his friend; the protector Jim recognized as being the other part of him was trying to take control.

"Call it in, Joel. We're going to need backup," Jim ordered, picking up Blair's and Megan's empty cars in the distance.

Screaming to a halt behind the Volvo, Jim was out of the truck before the dust even started to settle. The driver door to his partner's car was still ajar, attesting to the earlier sounds. Scanning around with his enhanced vision, Jim zeroed in on a small gray object lying near to the boarded up building he knew to be the former Stark Housing Center. It was a cell phone, and it didn't look to be in too good of shape. He ran to the building.

Reaching the phone, Ellison picked it up. It was Sandburg's, but it smelled like it had been struck by lightening. The casing was cracked and Jim could see a small spark, causing a wisp of smoke. Turning his attention to the area, he didn't hear Joel trot up beside him.

Using the training Blair had hammered into his head over and over, Jim used his hearing to listen for voices, breathing, anything that could point to where his partner had been taken. Suddenly his nostrils flared, picking up the unique scent he knew to be Blair's along with other odors-- Megan's perfume, cigarette smoke and the unmistakable smell of musty cave.

A rusty screech caused Ellison to jerk. He rubbed an ear and focused his hearing back in the direction the sharp noise had occurred. He heard a grunt, as if someone had just picked up something heavy, and a muffled sound that could have been a female. They came from the building in front of him. "This way," he uttered in a low voice and moved toward the large piece of plywood that was blocking the nearby doorway.

Only it wasn't blocking the entrance the way it was meant to. Looking carefully, Ellison saw that the plywood was being held in place only by a couple of large wood screws in the upper left corner. With little effort, he was able to shift the blockage to the side and enter the building. He was barely conscious of Taggart following him in, his whole attention concentrated on seeing, hearing, smelling where Sandburg had disappeared. Inhaling deeply, Ellison found the scents that led him into the building and overpowering smell of gasoline. But there was also something else. A different odor was captured by his nose; it tickled at his memory.

"I don't see anything, Jim," Joel voiced quietly. "Did they come in here?"

"I can smell Connor's perfume, Sandburg's new after shave and the same odor that I found on all the murder victims. They came this way." Gliding forward a few steps, Ellison halted when he 'heard' someone speaking to him, the tonal qualities touching another memory.

"Not this time, Ellison. There's not going to be a path for you to follow," the familiar voice said, then was silent.

"Jim?" Joel touched the other's arm to get his attention.

Suddenly, the identity of the mystery odor came to the forefront of Ellison's mind. "Get out of here, Joel. The place has been rigged and it's going to blow!" Running into the black captain, Jim forced the other back out of the building. They both took off at a dead run toward the cars, making it only half way there when the explosion occurred.

The blast picked the two men up, tossing them haphazardly like loose debris in a tornado. Although he'd been prepared for the detonation, Ellison still hit the ground hard and rolled several feet before stopping. He rolled over to lie on his back. He felt stunned, a high pitched ringing joining the pain that echoed throughout his head. His eyesight filled with swirling black spots. Some liquid was trickling across his forehead, right at the place that seemed to hurt the most. Reaching a hand up to touch the area, Jim felt the familiar texture of the liquid. It was blood. Jim closed his eyes with a groan and rolled over onto his stomach to attempt to stand up.

Sirens filled the air as Bank's Taurus slid sideways around a nearby corner and skidded to a halt beside Ellison's truck. Brown's car barely stopped in time to miss slamming into his superior's vehicle. Several patrol cars, coming from the opposite direction, cordoned off the streets around the area. Almost in unison, the cacophony of sirens stopped.

Banks was out of his vehicle first, racing over to his two downed men. Close behind followed the equally worried Brown and Rafe. "Jim!" Reaching the struggling Ellison, Banks tried to ease him back down. However, the other wasn't cooperating.

"'m alright," Jim mumbled, brushing away the hands trying to help him. He continued to struggle to his feet.

Sighing, Banks looked over to where Taggart was lying. Brown was checking the injured man out while Rafe was waving over the paramedics. "How is he?"

Brown looked up. "He looks bad, Captain. Left arm is broken for sure, head wound, but I'm not sure about anything else." The paramedics arrived and ushered the black detective aside.

Turning back to Ellison, Banks jumped forward to catch him as the man's legs gave away. "Lie down, Jim. Lord knows what you've hurt."

"Sandburg. He's... in the building." Jim tried to stand up again, this time collapsing into unconsciousness.

Looking over at the smashed and burning structure, Simon felt his heart sink. "God, I hope not."

Emergency Room, Cascade General Hospital, Early Next Morning

Ellison jerked away when the intern lifted his eyelid and flashed a light at his pupils. Swinging an arm sharply, he caught the man in the abdomen and knocked him away. Rolling in the opposite direction, he fell off the gurney he'd been lying and landed in a crouch, arms raised in a defensive manner.

~cough~ "Det... ~cough~... Detective," the intern wheezed from the wall he was leaning. "Please get... ~cough~... get back onto the gurney."

Shaking his head to clear away the confusion, Ellison slowly stood up and surveyed the room. He recognized that he was in a hospital, the antiseptic smells and lack of color were definitely a give away. Focusing on the young man in the white lab coat clutching his stomach, Jim asked, "My partner. Did they bring him in?"

Pushing away from the wall, the Intern cautiously walked toward the detective. "Captain Taggart is down the hall being taken care of. I need you back on the gurney, Detective, so that I can finish my examination. Please sir?" The man patted the bed.

"No, my partner. Blair Sandburg. Short guy, long, curly hair, talks about a mile a minute. Was he brought in here, too?"

"The only other one that came in with you was a large African-American man. I was told his name was Joel Taggart."

Tilting his head slightly, Ellison listened for the sounds he associated with his friend: his voice, footsteps, heart beat. Nothing. Closing his eyes, he felt along the bond for his friend and almost sagged in relief when he found it. The golden connection was strong, but led away from the hospital. He could tell that his friend was unconscious, with pain radiating from his left hand.

"Detective, please get back onto the gurney or I'll call security."

Looking at the man standing across the bed from him, Jim could tell that the man's bluster was just an act. By the sound of his rapid heartbeat, the sweat beading across his head and the minor tremor in his voice, the Sentinel knew the man was trying to psych him out.

"Try it and I'll run you in for harassing a policeman," Jim threatened, walking past the man and out the door of the treatment room. The emergency room area was congested with medical personnel hustling through the hallways. He hadn't taken more than a half dozen steps when Simon appeared in front of him.

"What are you doing out here, Ellison? Did the doctor release you?" Banks grabbed his detective's arm to stop him.

"I'm fine, Captain. How's Taggart? He was behind me when the building blew."

Simon pointed toward a room at the opposite end of the hall. "Broken arm, concussion and they're not sure about his left knee. The doctor said she'd get back with me after she sees his x-rays."

Ellison nodded, relief spreading across his face. "That's one good thing. I'll need a ride back to the scene. I want to get back to help look for Sandburg."

"Jim."

Banks' voice dropped to the level that Jim knew his superior reserved for relaying bad news to family members. He raised his hand to stop the next words he knew so well. "Blair is still alive, Simon. I know he's not dead."

"The building is nothing but a pile of burning rubble, Jim. The fire department is still trying to put out the flames. No one could still be in there."

Taking his Captain's arm, Ellison led Banks out of the busy area and into a quiet hallway. "Then he has to be under the building. I know what I smelled and heard. Both Connor and Sandburg were taken into the building and I heard Connor's muffled voice about the same time something was pulled open. Then someone spoke to me."

By the look on his detective's face, Simon could tell Jim was trying to remember something. "The voice sounded familiar." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I know it, but it escapes my memory right now. He told me that this time there wouldn't be a path to follow. I also smelled C-4 and gasoline in the building."

"C-4? Are you sure?" Ellison just stared at his Captain. "Right, you'd know. So whoever it was knew you and knew you'd use your abilities to go into the building."

"He's probably hoping that I will think Blair is dead, killed with him in the explosion-- "

Banks caught on to where Ellison was going. "And wouldn't even consider thinking there might be an escape route. He wouldn't know about your little..." Simon waved his fingers by his head.

Jim gave his superior a grim smile. "Our bond, which is letting me know that Sandburg is very much alive. That's why I'm going back to the area. There has to be another way into his underground lair." He tried to move out of the hallway, but was again stopped by Simon's hand on his arm.

"Hold it, Jim. As I said before, the fire department is still putting out the fire the explosion caused. It'll be several hours before that happens and maybe days before equipment can be used to clear the rubble."

Jim glanced down at his watch. "Blair may not have days, sir. It's already been about 20 hours. The other sentinel has him and who knows how long he'll stay in this area."

"I understand. That's why I sent Rafe down to City Hall to pull the maps on the sewer system under the area. Brown is down at the Federal Building to see if the Bureau of Mines has any information about any old tunnels that might be around that side of town." At Ellison's raised eyebrow, Banks dropped his head and rubbed his nose in slight embarrassment. "The smells that you experienced at the murder scenes and in your apartment. Even if Sandburg wasn't still alive, there's no way I'm letting this guy get away. He's murdered helpless people in my city and now has taken one of my men."

"Thank you, sir." Jim managed to keep the knowing smile off his face, hearing the anger in his superior's voice increase with his mention of Blair. The gruff captain cared more for the newest member of his detective squad than he liked to admit. "Can I catch a ride with you to the precinct? I don't think anyone bothered to bring my truck here, did they?"

Banks rolled his eyes and followed Ellison out of the hall. Lord help the person who had Sandburg. Vengeance had a name when it came to that young man... Jim Ellison.

Abandoned Mining Cavern, Somewhere Under Cascade

Like a light being switched on, Blair eyes flipped open to the area he lay. His muscles twitched and jerked in painful memory of the lightning bolt that had obviously knocked him unconscious. But it was a contest as to which hurt most, his head or his left hand. Raising the former carefully, Blair blinked his eyes rapidly to clear his fuzzy vision. A small groan escaped his lips as the throbbing across his frontal lobe increased. Trying to move his hands toward his head, he found that the one that hurt was caught on something and couldn't be pulled away. Looking up toward it, he saw something silver encircling his wrist. Pulling harder, the realization dawned that his arm was handcuffed to a nearby pipe. With his free hand, he reached around to feel behind his back. Another moan escaped his lips. They were his own handcuffs. Patting his pockets, he found that the key to the cuffs, as well as his pocketknife, were missing.

With a struggle, Blair dragged his still twitching body up until he was leaning against the wall behind him. Wiping his free hand across his face, he took a good look at his prison. There was a low wattage light bulb hanging from a wire across from him near an entrance that looked very familiar. Wooden beams lined either side of the opening and across its top. He couldn't see into the area beyond the entrance, the bulb not providing enough light.

Looking around his body, he laid a hand on the ground and rubbed at the surface. Stone or very compacted dirt, definitely not concrete. It wasn't damp, which was a blessing since Blair realized that his jacket and shoes were missing. The walls weren't smooth and the beams around the door clued Blair in that he was in some type of mine. He didn't have to have his sentinel's nose to tell that this was probably the same place the homeless murder victims had been living. The musty smell was strong and a memory flooded into his mind. Though it had been a couple of years, the incident with Quinn surfaced; Simon's kidnapping, his being shot and both of them almost being killed in an old, abandoned mine. It had taken weeks for him to heal and the past time of spelunking didn't give him the same enjoyment as it once had.

Reaching over with his right hand, he felt around the left one. The handcuff on the wrist was loose enough to not cause any damage, but Blair could tell he wouldn't be able to slip his hand out of it. Following the connecting chain to the other cuff, he felt along the pipe it was attached as far as he could reach. He hissed in pain as the action disturbed the injured appendage. As gently as possible, he felt around the hand. There were raised blisters on the palm and two of the fingers. Heat also radiated from the area.

"Shit!" Blair cursed, rattling the cuffs against the pipe. His memory was quickly returning on how he ended up in this situation. He'd seen Megan being held by two men and had run over to help her. One was holding an arm around her throat and covering her mouth. The other had both of her hands and was using his belt to tie her up. When he got closer to the group, he saw Megan's eyes widen as she struggled harder to get free. But before he could turn to look at what she'd seen, the lightning bolt had struck, grabbing his body in an agonizing hold and knocking the wind out of his lungs. Before he fell unconscious, he remembered seeing sparks flying out of the cell phone he was holding in his left hand. Whatever had hit him must have shorted out the phone and burned him pretty good. Now, the important questions that came to mind were who did it and why.

"Hello?" Blair called out carefully, not sure he really wanted to know who brought him to this place. "Can anyone hear me?"

"I knew you were awake, Blair. Luckily, you are a healthy person and were able to withstand the effects. I told those idiots to be careful, but you just can't hire good help anymore." The male voice coming from outside of his room held an amused tonal quality.

Squinting, Blair peered at the shadow that appeared in the opening. He knew the voice, having heard it somewhere before, but where he couldn't remember. "Do I know you?" he asked, trying to sound calm.

"Forgotten me already? I'm hurt. I thought I made a better impression the last time we were together. I see your foot healed okay." The shadow moved closer.

When the face of the man became illuminated, Blair jerked back against the wall, his heart hammering in his chest. "Danny," he whispered in fear. Blair struggled to contain the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. The last person he'd thought he'd be meeting was this man.

A smile appeared on Daniel Wilkins' features, though it held no warmth. The tall man leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed on his chest. Blair's mind flashed back to the last time he'd seen the man: he was sitting half naked in a cabin in the Rocky Mountains holding a rifle on Danny, suffering with hypothermia and a broken foot and trying to protect Jim. He'd never been so close to killing someone.

"Give the man a prize. How have you been, Blair? Kept up your study on Ellison's abilities as a sentinel? Oh, wait. Ellison wasn't the subject of your research because he isn't a sentinel. Isn't that what you told the rest of the world at the news conference last year?"

"What do you want, Wilkins? Where's Megan Connor?" Blair was secretly pleased that he was able to remove the fear he felt out of his voice. "Going from being a minor thief to a murderer is quite a career change."

Wilkins moved further into the chamber and squatted down in front of his captive. Blair flattened himself against the wall when he saw the long scar running along the left side of the man's face. It gave Wilkins an evil appearance. "You can blame yourself and Ellison for everything that's happened up to this point. Especially this." He fingered the scar. "Prize from my first fight in Denver. If you'd given me the help I'd needed--"

Anger blazed through Blair. "You weren't wanting help, you wanted me. You kidnapped me to help you control abilities that would help you continue your life of crime. Then there's the fact that you tried to kill my partner twice. Did you really expect me to just cheerfully help you after all that?"

Wilkins snaked an arm out and backhanded Sandburg across the face, knocking the smaller man over. "Your partner killed my brother. Don't forget that in your little trip down memory lane. I would have stopped Toby if he'd allowed me the chance. I gave your partner more of a chance than he ever thought of giving my brother."

Blair pushed himself back up into a sitting position. "What are you talking about?"

"Ellison tried to follow when you were brought down here. My men destroyed the entrance to our domain by blowing up the building over it. Ellison happened to be--"

"You BASTARD!" Blair's yell caused Danny to jerk back, wincing at the loudness. He tried to grab at the man, but Danny was just out of reach.

"I wanted him to suffer like Toby did, but I'll take my revenge in another way. You should have helped me when I asked, Blair. But then, if you had, I wouldn't have spent all that time alone in the Rockies and developed the rest of my senses. I'm a true sentinel now."

"You're nothing like a sentinel," Blair ground out vehemently.

"That's where you come in."

"You want me to help you now, after all this?"

"Well, I am the only game in town and your notebooks aren't that easy to decipher. How did you make it through college with such a lousy note-taking technique? I guess it really doesn't matter, since you'll be the one using them. Of course, we'll have to get the rest before we leave."

"Leave?" Blair tried to hide the fear that washed over him, but the smile that appeared on Danny's face told him he wasn't successful. The man did have some control over his senses.

"You don't expect to stay around here, do you?" Wilkins raised his hands to indicate the mine. "I've been able to... accumulate a small nest egg to afford more comfortable living quarters. Some place warm will be nice, since you didn't seem to handle snow too well. What do you think?"

Blair laughed, slight hysteria tinging the sound. "In your dreams, man. Like I told you back in Colorado, Jim is my partner, I'll only work with him and I'm not going anywhere with you."

Wilkins took off his glasses and stared into the eyes of his captive. Blair didn't flinch, raising his chin slightly. Chuckling and giving his prisoner a light pat on the cheek, Wilkins returned the dark shades to his face, stood up and walked out of the cavern. Stopping just outside of the entrance, he looked back. "I'll send your friend down to keep you company for a while. You can explain the future to her and what her place will be in it."

"What are you talking about, Wilkins? You leave Megan out of this," Blair yelled at the departing figure. "Danny!" Blair jerked forward to follow the man, but was stopped by the manacle on his arm. The movement awakened the fiery agony in his hand. Clutching the member, he concentrated on controlling his breathing and calming his emotions. Remembering what the maniac had bragged, despite the knowledge that he'd lied, Blair closed his eyes and felt for the connection with Jim.

There, the bond surged with the strength of his friend. But Blair could feel the same external forces that he'd felt at the precinct buffeting his Sentinel. Using the training he'd been receiving over the past couple of months, Blair sent a protective flow through the bond to assure Jim that he was well and, so far, safe. It seemed like forever, but he was finally answered with an answering comforting warmth. Relaxing, Blair smiled. Though he knew his friend couldn't hear him, he murmured, "I'm here, buddy. Just be careful when you come after me."

Simon Banks' Office

Jim Ellison paced the office like a caged animal. The intense feeling that he needed to go after his partner was almost overwhelming. With his attention concentrated almost wholly on his bond with Sandburg, he barely noticed when Banks came into the room.

Simon hesitated for a few seconds, silently debating his next step. Making the decision, he moved in front of his prowling detective and halted his movements. Jim froze, looking up and finally recognizing his location and the person standing in front of him. Staring into the dark eyes of his Captain, Jim could read the controlled anger Simon was holding in check.

"Can you feel anything, Jim?"

"I know he's alive and relatively unharmed."

"Then why are yo--" Banks choked off his question when he felt Ellison jerk in his arms, then relax and close his eyes. "What's the matter?"

After several long seconds, a smile appeared on Jim's face and he reopened his eyes. "It's Blair. He just sent me a... well, I guess you could say it was something to help me with all that is going on."

"So the kid is doing okay."

"Yes, sir. At least for now."

Banks sighed. "Now if we had a way to know about Connor." Releasing his hold on the other, Banks stepped back and leaned onto his desk. "If Sandburg was the target, why did they keep Connor?"

"Maybe the same reason that some of the prostitutes have found new homes."

Banks raised his eyebrows at that statement, but didn't comment. Movement outside of his office turned his attention in that direction. It was Brown and Rafe, both carrying papers and plastic. Banks jumped up to open his door for them.

"It took some digging, Captain, but I was able to find some pretty detailed maps of the area," Henri exclaimed, entering with some rolled documents. "Running under the whole northern part of the city is the former location of the Cordova Mining Corporation. It was pretty productive in the 1800s, but was shut down around the turn of the century." Moving to the desk, he dropped the papers under an arm and unrolled the one in his hands. "Then you overlay the schematics for the sewer system."

"Which just happens to have a main tunnel that runs under Housing Project," Rafe jumped in, unrolling a clear piece of vellum. He positioned the plastic over the map Brown held and all four bent over the desk.

"Here. An air shaft under this tunnel about a mile up." Banks pointed to the maps. "Probably wouldn't have taken too much digging to break through and connect the two."

"I wouldn't put it past them to have tapped into some utility lines for electricity and water. Where's the entrance?" Jim asked.

"Up here. About two miles north of the city," Rafe answered. "That makes it about five miles to where we think they might be. That'll be a really long walk."

"For me, about a 40 minute run if the tunnels are clear." Ellison straightened up and folded his arms across his chest. His stance and determined expression dared any of the others to counter his being involved. Any argument was halted by the buzzer on the telephone.

"Banks...uh, huh...You're sure?...Okay, send up the report." Hanging up the receiver, Simon turned to see his three detectives staring at him. "That was Captain York over in B. and E. Seems Rafe's questioning had some storeowners doing more thorough inventories and less finger pointing at their employees. Places that hadn't reported any material losses did find money missing from their safes. They didn't know since there was no indication of forced entry. Reports were filed and Forensics checked out the businesses. A specific set of prints showed up in three different locations so far."

The way Banks was staring gave Ellison a sinking feeling. "Someone that I know?"

Simon nodded. "Both you and Blair, from Colorado."

Jim heard the mysterious voice in his head again. Not this time, Ellison. He knew who it was. "Danny Wilkins." At the blank looks from Rafe and Brown, he explained. "Last year when Sandburg and I went to Colorado to be with Jim McLin, we went hiking after the funeral and met up with Wilkins and his brother. At the time, Daniel Wilkins possessed three heightened senses and wanted Sandburg to help him control them."

"Without you around if I remember your report."

"His brother tried to take me out permanently, Captain. To make a long story short, Toby Wilkins was trying to kill Blair and I had to kill him. Later, Blair chased off Danny Wilkins after he clubbed me then tried to kill me."

Brown chuckled. "I can just see Hairboy standing over you acting like a mean momma bear."

"You're not too far off the mark, H." Ellison smiled at the memory. "We let the authorities know what happened and gave them Wilkins' description, but he was never caught. I thought the way the homeless killings seemed to lead in this direction was too coincidental."

"But you said Wilkins only had three heightened senses. Didn't you tell us that there's another sentinel here?" Rafe sounded confused.

"My senses were heightened during the time I spent alone in Peru. I can only guess that the time Wilkins spent in the mountains before heading in this direction helped him developed the other two. He was pretty upset over the death of his brother."

"Which would give him ample reason to want revenge on you, Jim. Do you think he'd hurt Blair?"

"I don't think so, Captain. Blair is about the only one who can help him if he's having trouble with his senses. But I don't think he'll stick around here very long. He's very experienced in surviving in the wilderness and I'm sure he'll take one or two people with him."

"Sandburg to help him control his senses and Connor for..." Banks didn't have to continue with the line of thought. The other three men knew exactly what he meant. Simon saw the angry glint appear in his detective's eyes and the firm set of his jaw. He continued quickly to forestall the inevitable outburst. "We'll have to get down there before he decides to cut and run. There's no way you can just waltz into the area and move around Jim. You take Rafe and head in from the entrance of the mine. Brown and I'll try to infiltrate from the tunnel near the Housing project. Wilkins doesn't know either of us and we'd probably stand a better chance of blending in with the rest of the group than you two would."

Ellison stared at his boss for several long minutes, wanting to argue against the plan. His military training told him that a direct assault would probably create enough confusion to allow him and the others the opportunity to rescue Sandburg and Connor. But with another sentinel in the area, the element of surprise was lost.

"Let's go, Rafe. We've a drive before us and I hope you've got some different clothes handy." The young detective looked down at his clothing and grimaced. Armani suits didn't do well with crawling underground.

Cordova Mines, Same Day, Late Morning

Blair raised his head quickly from where it rested on his knees when he heard footsteps coming toward his 'room'. Wherever he was being held, it obviously wasn't near the rest of the community since no traffic passed his door. The darkness and loneliness hadn't started bothering him yet. It was the sounds of his underground prison that kept him from getting any rest. Creaks and groans seemed to echo through the area, making him wonder if a collapse was imminent. Then there was the throbbing of his injured hand. The burns had him using every meditation technique he could think of to reduce the pain, but he hadn't been able to concentrate.

"I brought you some company," a male voice announced from the doorway.

Megan Connor was dragged to the entrance and thrust into the cavern. From the little light available, Blair could see that she wasn't bound. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes fairly messed and she was also missing her shoes. He couldn't tell if there were any serious injuries, though. "Megan?"

"Oh, Sandy. Are you all right?" Connor stumbled forward and dropped to her knees in front of her friend.

Blair lifted his free hand and placed it along Megan's face. She flinched from the touch, heat rising from the bruise warmed his hand. "Have they hurt you?"

"I'm fine. I've been hit harder for having a smart mouth around my Da. What about you?"

Blair snorted. "Still feeling tingly from whatever they used on me."

"It was a tazor."

"Oh, so that's why I feel like I grabbed a live wire. Do you have any idea of where we are besides somewhere under Cascade?"

"They brought us through the basement of that building and into the sewer. I don't know how long we walked, but they had a hole for passage into these tunnels. They separated us after we got down here and I didn't know where they took you. What's going on, Sandy?" There was a slight tremor in her voice.

Blair ran his free hand through his hair to brush it back from his from his face, glanced at the figure standing watch just on the other side of the entrance, then dropped his voice. "We've got to get you outta here as soon as possible."

"Me? What about you?" Megan whispered.

"It's not as important for me to get away. You, on the other hand, can make a big difference on how things proceed from here. Do they leave you alone at all?"

"I've had 'Mr. Congeniality' as my shadow since they brought us down. But that doesn't matter. I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Don't argue with me, Megan. They won't do anything to hurt me. I'm sure of that. However, they can and will use you against me as well as other ways. You have to escape." Blair accidentally tried to use both hands to emphasize his words, rattling the injured one and causing the pain to flare up again. He sucked in a lung full of air to keep from crying out.

"Sandy?" Megan moved closer to look at Blair's hand. Taking it carefully into her own hands, Megan gently probed the palm. She hissed at the appearance. "How did this happen?"

"My cell phone exploded when I got zapped. Burnt my hand pretty bad." Blair clenched his teeth at the jostling, but his mind kept thinking. "See if you can get them to unlock the handcuffs so you can treat me."

Megan nodded and stood up. "Hey, he's hurt. Get these off him and get me a First Aid box." When the man hesitated, she took a step closer. "His hand is severely burned. If he's as important as your boss thinks he is, you better do as I say."

The threat obviously worked. The man came into the cavern and pushed Connor to the side, dismissing her as he knelt by Sandburg. He looked closer at the manacled hand before digging into his pocket for a set of keys. Just as he was reaching forward to unlock the handcuffs, Connor hit him from behind with doubled fists. Dazed, the man struggled to get back up, but a foot slamming into his head to drive him back down and completely into oblivion.

"Remind me to not make you angry," Blair murmured, looking at the unconscious man across from him.

Connor fumbled for the keys that had fallen and turned back to her friend. Trying not to jostle his injury, she released Blair from the handcuffs.

"Do you remember the way out of here?" Cradling his hand, Blair stumbled to his feet.

"Of course, follow me. I can get us to the ladder we had to come down." Carefully peering through the entrance, Connor led the way out.

"How does it look, Jim?" Rafe was trying to stay as close to Ellison as he could without bumping into the man. There was little or no light that he could see, but the other wouldn't let him use a flashlight.

"Clear. I can hear some distant echoes, but they're far enough away that we don't have to worry yet." Jim was jogging at an easy pace, one that he used when he wanted to do a mileage run. He could hear Rafe easily keeping up with him, though the man's breathing was tinged with anxiety. "This pace okay for you?"

"Yeah, sure. However, it would help if I could see where I was going. Can you really see that clearly?"

Ellison smiled. He knew that Rafe was very curious about the extent of his abilities, but restrained his curiosity out of politeness or maybe a little fear. "It's as bright as day. If you want to, hold onto my jacket. Sandburg does it all the time."

He heard a mumbled, breathy 'thanks' and a light tug on the back of his jacket. They had started into the abandoned mine after confirming that Banks and Brown had found a way in from the sewer system after arresting a man guarding the entrance. Then, breaking through a wooden barrier across the entrance, the two started their journey. A couple of officers were left at the entrance to ensure that no one would escape back out that way. Several more were positioned at the entrance Banks used, awaiting orders.

About a hundred feet in, Ellison had found an elevator shaft. It didn't work, but ropes they'd brought with them allowed the two men to move downward to the next level. Straining almost to the point of zoning, Jim was able to hear some very distant echoes of voices. They had to be on the right level. There was some lighting in the shafts, attesting to the idea that the occupants had found someway to get electricity in the mine. The musty, unused smell was also very strong.

The one thing Ellison didn't mention to Rafe was the increased feeling of the other sentinel. As they moved closer to the part of the mine they felt the homeless people were living in, Jim could 'feel' the presence of the other. Though he hadn't seen any evidence of that sentinel's animal spirit, his own spirit guide had appeared and was pacing with them. That was another topic he didn't, wouldn't bring up to Rafe. He didn't think the young detective could handle the information.

A sound brought Ellison up short, causing Rafe to stumble into his back. "What do you hear?" Rafe's voice whispered from behind.

"An alarm signal." Through the bond with Blair, Jim 'felt' an increase of pain in his left hand along with a feeling of panic. Shortly after a new pain suddenly flared with his right knee. "Let's pick up the pace. Something tells me Sandburg is the cause of it."

"How much farther?"

Connor sighed. Her voice held a note of irritation. "You're starting to sound like a bored child on a long drive, Sandy."

Blair peered nervously around them as they slunk through the tunnels. "I'm sorry. Memories of the last time I was trapped in a cave are making me nervous. At least this time I don't have a hole in my leg."

"You were shot? When was that?" Megan whispered, stopping to look at her companion.

Blair waved a dismissing hand. "Way before your time. And don't ask Simon or Jim about it. Their memories aren't much better."

"You know, it really gets tiresome hearing you blokes discuss old cases," Megan complained in a low voice.

"What are you talking about?" Blair's head swung up in surprise.

"Nothing," she said crossly, then stopped abruptly. "Wait, here it is. Bugger!"

"What?"

"The lower part of the ladder is missing. I'm sure there had been one here earlier. We're going to need something to climb up." Megan looked around in frustration.

Peering up the dark shaft, Blair positioned himself under it. "Come here and I'll give you a boost. When you get up there, see if you can find something to drop back down for me to use."

Connor shook here head. "Forget it. It's obvious that you're the one they want. Besides, I'm taller. Let me boost you up and you can find something for me to use."

"Damn it, Megan! Can't anyone else take the lead around you? I put up with that macho crap every day with Jim and I don't need it from you. So shut up, get over here and climb." Bracing his left leg back, Blair positioned his right at an angle as a step. He then crossed his arms out from his chest akimbo style, left hand placed to keep it from further injury.

The force and anger in Blair's voiced surprised the Inspector into silence. Obeying, she moved closer and placed a stocking foot on the offered leg. Seeing Blair brace himself, she pushed off with the foot on the knee, stepped carefully onto the arms and leaped upward. Just barely was she able to grab the bottom rung of the ladder. Slowly, rung by rung, Megan pulled herself up until she was completely on the ladder and climbing to the next level.

Reaching the top, Connor almost shrieked in surprise when strong hands grabbed her arms and helped her out of the shaft. Looking up, she saw the concerned faces of Banks and Brown. "Captain," she breathed in relief.

"Are you all right, Connor?" Banks asked.

The inspector nodded. "Do you have a rope, anything we can use to get Sandy up? He's down there with an injured hand and the ladder doesn't extend down far enough for him to reach it."

Without a word, Henri pulled off a knapsack he was carrying and dug through it until he located a coiled rope. "Think this one can reach?" he asked, handing the hemp to his superior.

"I'll make it reach. You take Connor and get her up above. Sandburg and I'll follow as soon as I get him up here. Go!" Banks ordered when the two hesitated. Watching them leave, he keyed the mic clipped to the inside of his jacket and spoke in a low voice. "This is Banks. Two coming out." He returned his attention to the shaft.

"Sandburg," Banks whispered loudly. When his newest detective appeared at the bottom of the shaft, Banks breathed a sigh of relief. The young man didn't look too worse for wear. Uncoiling the rope, he threaded it down toward Blair. Before it was half way down, an alarm sounded. It was an odd ringing noise, something probably left over from the time when the mine had been in use.

Blair swung around in fear as the ancient klaxon rang in his ears. Someone found that he was missing. Knowing Wilkins' abilities, Blair was sure that man would be able to track him down quickly. Turning back to the airshaft, he motioned sharply for Simon to get the rope down to him in a hurry. "Here I come," he called when the rope was close enough, not caring who heard him now. Leaping, he grabbed the rough hemp with his good hand. Bracing himself, he reached further up with his injured hand.

Searing pain burned through his arm and up to his head, the cord biting into the blisters and easily shredding them. "PULL!" he yelled. Blair felt the rope jerk upward as Simon complied. Just inches from being able to grab the ladder, pain in his hand turned white-hot and shot through his arm, ripping through his body. He couldn't hold on any longer.

Releasing the rope, Blair collapsed to the ground in a heap. He tried to land on his feet, but his brain wasn't able to coordinate the action and his right knee connected to the earth first. It popped, causing almost enough pain to override the agony in his hand. Curling into a ball, his mind totally concentrating on the suffering in his body, he didn't hear the approach of others.

Banks, however, was aware of the arriving company. Quickly, he pulled the rope back up and fell back from the hole. The only way he'd be able to help Sandburg now was to make sure no one knew he was there.

"He's there!" a voice shouted through the tunnel.

Daniel Wilkins strode angrily through the underground passage toward the speaker. He grabbed the smaller man by the throat. "I know exactly where he is, Teddy," he growled. "The next time you raise your voice within 50 feet of me, I'll have your tongue cut out. You're lucky I'm not going to punish you for using that alarm." Thrusting backward, Wilkins slammed the other against the nearby wall. He stepped past the man without another glance. His head still hurt from the shrill sound of the alarm.

Unable to use his hearing, Wilkins used his sense of smell to lead them to Sandburg. He'd found him where he'd expected his prisoner to be, in the tunnel that had access to the upper world. "Tom, Bernie, get him to his feet." The two men that had been following behind Wilkins stepped forward at the order and grabbed Sandburg by his arms, dragging him up to face their leader. "Where's the Aussie bitch, Blair?"

Blair struggled to stand on his own, his right leg not wanting to hold his weight. Looking up at the angry man in front of him, he just stared at the dark sunglasses shading the eyes. Blair wasn't able to dodge the backhanded blow that slammed into his jaw. Definitely more powerful than the earlier punches, blood slowly welled from a cut on his lip.

"It'll go easier on you if you tell me where she is. I've plans for her."

"Tough shit, man. She's gone and you'll have to do without getting any tonight." Another blow rocked Blair's face. Stubbornly, Blair pulled himself up and shook off the hands holding him. He swayed in an effort to maintain his balance, but his head was raised in defiance. Taking a fast step forward, he surprised the others by delivering a sharp right cross to Danny's jaw, knocking the larger man back a couple of steps. Tom and Bernie immediately lunged forward and grabbed Blair's arms to restrain him.

Rubbing his reddening jaw, Wilkins gave a frustrated sigh at the stubborn attitude the smaller man was displaying. Nothing was going as he planned. He'd intended to mainly use the woman to ensure Sandburg's obedience. Now it was going to take stronger actions. "Take him to the central chamber. Teddy, go gather the rest of community and have them assemble near the pole."

As Sandburg was hauled away, Wilkins stood still in the passageway. Whenever he allowed his anger to get the best of him, his senses usually seemed to become a little more sensitive. This time, however, they seemed to be deadened, as if they were shorted out briefly. Tilting his head slightly, Wilkins tried to listen around the area to see if he could hear where Sandburg's friend had gone. He knew it couldn't have been too long ago that she'd taken off, but he couldn't hear anything. Not being able to extend his hearing, he gave up and followed after his men.

Shortly after the passageway had cleared, Banks climbed quietly down the airshaft ladder and waited at the bottom rung; listening. When he felt certain there wasn't anyone around to hear him, he dropped down into the tunnel. Pulling his weapon out of its holster on his hip, he started walking in the same direction the others had traveled.

Ellison and Rafe stood at the junction of three tunnels. Sparse lighting led down each tunnel as well as indications that someone had used them recently.

"Which way?" Rafe asked, panting to catch his breath.

Ellison closed his eyes and felt for his partner, instantly feeling him in the far right tunnel. Opening his eyes, he looked in that direction. "Sandburg's that way."

"You can hear him?" Rafe's eyes widened in surprise.

Ellison smiled cryptically. "No, it's his, uh, after shave. You can't miss it. We're going to have to move really careful now. Wilkins is probably not all that far away and the plan is shot if he sees me first."

"Then let me take point." Rafe took his hands and rubbed them through his styled hair, giving it a snarled look. Grinning at the raised eyebrow Ellison was giving him, he next rubbed the ground. Patting his dirt covered fingers across his face and rubbing his eyes, Rafe changed from a stylish, GQ detective to a down-on-his-luck man. "Now let the Captain tell me that I can't do a homeless look."

Ellison smiled and slapped Rafe on the arm. Pulling out a square of paper from his pocket, he unfolded it, held it against the wall and trailed his finger across it. "We're about... here. The right tunnel leads fairly straight with a large cavern another half mile up. I'll stay about 20 feet back. When you see either Wilkins or Sandburg, freeze and whisper. I'll hear you."

"Got it." Giving Ellison a high sign, Rafe turned and started cautiously up the tunnel.

The bravado Blair had displayed in front of Wilkins quickly faded as he was half carried, half dragged through the tunnels. His captors had stopped briefly by the small cavern where he previously had been held and retrieved the handcuffs, binding his hands in front of him. As the tunnel they were traveling gradually widened into a large cavern, Blair's eyes gazed at the size and appearance of the area.

The cavern had probably once been a major intersection for the mining operation with the roominess to allow several ore carts to be moved around easily. Though the carts and the tracks they traveled were no longer present, the room still had the feel of a place of production. A makeshift chair of plywood and crating sat at the far end with whole crates set up nearby as tables. On the crates sat groups of canned goods and clothing, some still in their original boxes. Two large men stood at either end, obviously guarding the supplies. A small group of men and women were huddled in the room.

In the very center of the cavern stood a large wooden beam that stretched from floor to ceiling. It was to this that Blair was manhandled. His arms were lifted up until the chain between the handcuffs slid over a hook imbedded in the center of the pole, leaving his back exposed to the rest of the room. Like sentries, they stood on either side of Blair. The height of the curved metal on the pole was enough to make him stretch, almost standing on his toes. If he sagged, the cuffs bit into his wrists. Because of the damage to his knee, Blair had to allow his wrists to take the punishment.

"A serious infraction in the rules of our community has occurred," Wilkins announced as he entered the cavern. He still wore the dark sunglasses, the brightness of the area obviously bothering his eyes. The milling people spread around the outer edges of the area, more entered from another tunnel until there was about 30 present. "This man took a woman from our group and tried to run away to the upper world. Luckily, we were able to prevent him from exposing our home to those from above." In a dramatic fashion, Wilkins paced around the cavern, gesturing first at Sandburg, then toward the ceiling.

"It's a lie," Blair called out. "My friend and I were kidnapped by this man--" He gasped in agony, then went into a coughing fit as one of his guards drove a fist into his side.

"Those who violate the rules of the community will be punished. Didn't we all agree to that?" Silence filled the room. Many of the people had their heads lowered, their attention anywhere but toward the center of the cavern. Their silence obviously angered Wilkins. "When I offered you the opportunity to get out of the weather and away from those who would harass and harm you, didn't you readily agree to abide to the rules of the community!" With looks of fear, several nodded.

"And the consequences for violating them apply to all. Thomas," Wilkins called softly to his henchman. Walking over to the chair against the wall, he dug into his pocket, pulled out a pair of foam earplugs and unobtrusively fitted them in his ears. His hearing had come back online during his trip back through the tunnels. Wilkins rubbed at his brow as he sat down, pain still throbbing through the lobe.

"What's... ~cough~ what's the matter, Danny? Sensory spikes causing problems? Get used to them, buddy." Bernie placed another fist into Blair's side, robbing the smaller man of his breath.

Thomas stepped up behind Blair and pulled a large knife from his belt. Grabbing the bottom of his captive's shirt, he slit the material all the way up to the collar along the ribs, exposing Blair's back. Reaching a hand behind his back, he pulled out a wide leather strap he'd had tucked in his pants.

"You don't want do this, Danny." Blair strained his head around until he could see the other sitting passively in the chair. Fear crashed over him at the thought of what was about to occur.

Wilkins looked at him passively, gauging Sandburg's stance. Calmly, he stood up and walked over to his captive. Leaning over, he spoke in a low voice. "Agree to help me freely and we'll leave now."

"I won't help you with your senses no matter what you do," Blair answered defiantly.

With a sigh, Wilkins turned and returned to his chair. He raised a hand. "First offense, 10 lashes."

"NO!" Blair yelled, his eyes wide in horror. He gave a yank at his wrists in an attempt to loosen the hook that held them, but it was futile.

The first lash fell hard, instantly raising a welt. Blair jerked violently against the pole, a sharp cry escaping before he could clench his mouth shut. He thought he'd heard the painful yelp of an injured canine followed by the scream of an angry jungle cat echo through his mind. Shaking his head to clear it, he turned to glare at his enemy. He silently swore to not give the man any satisfaction by crying out further. As each lash fell, Blair jerked again and again, his blazing eyes returning to stare at the man who ordered the punishment. But no further sound escaped his mouth.

After the tenth stroke landed, Blair allowed his eyes to close, his breathing coming in hard gasps. The whole of his back felt like someone had poured acid down it, the marks of the lash going from neck to waist. Blair couldn't tell if any blood had been drawn, but at this point he really didn't care. His body was quickly becoming one whole mass of screaming pain, from his wrists down to his knees, and he struggled to keep control of the tears that threatened to spring from his eyes. Mentally, he threw out a cry for help from the one person he knew would be there for him.

Rafe paused for a moment, leaning around to look through an opening shored up by old wooden beams. It was really starting to bother him that he hadn't come upon anyone in his travel through the tunnel. He'd found evidence that people were living in the mine, bundles of clothing and blankets in side tunnels, but not the actual residents. Just as he stepped forward to continue on his path, a hand grabbed his arm. Turning sharply, Rafe relaxed when he saw that it was Ellison. How such a large man could move so silently baffled the younger detective.

"Wait," Jim breathed in the other's ear. He tilted his head and focused his hearing forward just in time to hear Wilkins say First offense, 10 lashes. Blair's cry of horror and the following pain through the bond caused Jim to suck in a quick breath and stumble back a few steps, his eyes clenched shut.

Rafe reached for Ellison when the larger man paled and stepped back. Knowing he had to be silent, Rafe gave his friend a shake to get his attention. He was shocked when Ellison opened his eyes and looked at him, the light blue orbs filled with pain and anguish.

'What is it?' Rafe mouthed, giving the other another shake when he continued to stare. Ellison's expression suddenly changed to one of cold fury.

Jim was feeling each blow that was falling onto his partner's back. When the heart- wrenching cry flooded to him through their bond, a change came over him. The human part of him known as Jim Ellison, cop, detective and friend disappeared and the Sentinel took over. Shrugging off the hands that held him, he reached behind his back, pulled his revolver out and checked to ensure a bullet was chambered into the barrel. Then, with no consideration of the noise he might be making, the Sentinel stalked down the tunnel in the direction of his injured Shaman. Beside him flowed the inky form of his spirit guide.

Gliding down the tunnel with stealth, Banks approached the cavern where he could hear the others. He'd been surprised that he'd made it as far as he had without being detected. If Wilkins was a sentinel as Ellison had informed them, there shouldn't have been any way for him to sneak up on the group. But here he was, making steady progress.

Coming close to the entrance, Simon almost burst into the room when he heard Blair's outcry of pain. Luckily, his police training overrode his natural reaction to try to help the younger man. Silently, he stepped up to the entrance and peered into the large cavern. The sight that met his eyes shocked and angered him.

All in the room were focused on the individual hanging from the center pole, receiving the final blow to his back. Simon cringed at the sight of the angry welts raised up and down Blair's back. His heart went out to the smaller man sagging against the pole where he was attached. Simon stepped back when the only seated figure in the area stood up and paced to stand by Blair.

Banks was ready to make a move if the man he figured to be Wilkins made any further move to hurt Sandburg. He'd readied his revolver and prepared to enter the cavern, but froze at Wilkins' action. The man had stopped abruptly and was searching around the room. Banks was sure he was looking for him.

Wilkins could swear that he was hearing the angry scream of a jungle cat. Swinging his eyes around the room, he locked on to the opening to a tunnel he remembered eventually led to the mine entrance. Wilkins stumbled back a step when a large, black jaguar stalked out of the passage. Right behind the animal came the imposing figure of Jim Ellison. Pulling a large knife from a sheath on his belt, Wilkins stepped closer to Sandburg and pointed the weapon at his ribs.

"FREEZE!" Banks voice boomed from the back of the cavern. The black captain stepped into the area and trained his weapon on Tom and Bernie when the two started to pull out their own weapons. They looked at Wilkins, but their boss was not paying any attention to their plight. What made up their minds to surrender was the entry of a third person into the cavern, his revolver also pointing in their direction. Rafe was trotting into the cavern and away from the entrance at an angle to cover the two men he knew were reaching for weapons.

"Drop your knife and move away, Wilkins," Banks ordered, walking cautiously toward the center. The other people that had been between him and Wilkins were now cowering in small groups against the wall. Others had fled up any tunnel they could find.

Danny Wilkins acted as though he hadn't heard the order. His whole attention was on the approaching Jim Ellison. "You took from me, I take from you." The knife pressed against Sandburg's ribs, drawing blood. The young man didn't even jerk.

"I don't think so," the Sentinel snarled.

"Jim." The Sentinel heard Sandburg's whisper. He glanced momentarily at his friend, the blazing intensity streaming from his eyes softening briefly as he took in the other's appearance. He felt a surge of energy flow into him through his bond with his Shaman, removing the fatigue that had been affecting his body. He knew what he had to do.

"This is between you and me, Wilkins."

"Tell the others to back off." Wilkins glanced momentarily at Rafe standing off to the side.

The Sentinel looked over at Banks as he lowered his revolver and placed it back into the holster at his back, then turned back. Maintaining his eye lock on his enemy, he took off his jacket and tossed it to the side. "Take care of Sandburg, Captain," he said to Banks, stepping over to where Tom was standing and taking the knife from the man's hand.

"Jim?" Banks stepped closer. His detective looked different from the man he knew. Ellison's eyes were full of an almost unholy light, his face became cold and emotionless and his movements smooth and taut like the feline he called his spirit animal. Everything about him screamed warrior. Wilkins, on the other hand, just looked dangerous as he sidestepped away from Sandburg toward the center of the cavern.

"Simon," Blair groaned, catching his superior's attention. "Can... you get me down?" He'd swung his head around and was staring at the larger man with pain-filled eyes.

Hastily, Banks shoved his revolver back into its holster and gently grasped Sandburg's forearms. Rafe arrived at his side and assisted in lifting the smaller man high enough to slip the handcuffs off the hook. Cradling Blair in his arms, trying not to touch the inflamed skin on his back, Simon lowered him gently to the ground. "Get something to cover him. He's going into shock," he ordered the hovering Rafe.

"I...I need to...see," Blair mumbled, twisting in Simon's arms. He gasped sharply as something brushed against his back.

"Stay still, Sandburg. You could do more damage." Fumbling through his pockets, Banks searched for and found his keys. The handcuffs on the younger man looked to be police issue. He was able to unlock one cuff before Sandburg pulled his hands away.

"No," Blair growled. "I can he-help Jim. Let me--" He finally got his body turned around until he was leaning a shoulder against Simon's chest and still have a good view of the cavern.

Rafe rushed up and unfolded what he hoped was a clean blanket and gently draped it over Blair. "It's the best that I could find. Should we try to get him out of here?"

The young man jerked at the feel of the coarse cloth that lightly touched his back, then tried to push away any sensations affecting his concentration. He had to focus on his Sentinel and help him defeat the interloper that threatened them both.

Banks felt Sandburg's hand latch onto his arm, the mild, tingling shock from the touch startling him. The smaller man was panting, obviously in pain, but his attention was turned toward the center of the cavern and the two men circling each other. Something inside told Simon that he shouldn't move Blair, at least not until the fight was over. "Let's wait until we can get the paramedics down here to him. Go lead the troops back here and make sure they don't come in like gangbusters. Go on, the situation is under control." Simon added the later when he saw his detective hesitate.

As Rafe left, Banks leaned his head down until he could look into the smaller man's face. Blair's eyes were open, but he looked like he wasn't really seeing anything. The tingling in his arm changed to the feeling Simon remembered from his office. The flow of energy through his own body to the man in his arms was disconcerting. "Sandburg," he said, anxiety in his voice.

"I'm okay," Blair answered the unasked question, his voice sounding stronger. "I need your help."

"What should I do?"

Blair turned his head to look into Simon's eyes. He could read concern in the dark orbs, but also fear. He gave the other a tired smile, hoping to convey confidence. "Just be... you, Simon. The strong friend I know and can depend on."

Simon searched Blair's face, reading the strength and confidence in the pained features. Giving the smaller man a nod, he carefully adjusted the body leaning against him to a more comfortable position and both men turned their attention to the action in the center of the cavern.

The Sentinel felt more than saw that his Shaman was being cared for by his Chief. The energy flowing to him was strong and balanced, strength and confidence filtered all through it. With that worry off his mind, he was able to concentrate totally on the enemy sentinel in front of him. He felt calm, more in tune with his body and senses. That would be his advantage over the one in front of him.

Wilkins was barely containing his anger and his senses were shorting out. He'd thought he had at least some time before Ellison found them, thinking that the man would have had to spend a day or two searching through the ruins of the building for their bodies. How the man had been able to locate them so quickly bothered Wilkins. Twice now they were able to get back together under almost impossible odds. It seemed as if the two had some type of locator beacons on each other.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Wilkins brought his entire attention to the man facing him. Testing, he jabbed forward with his knife only to have it swish through air. Ellison had easily evaded the move, able to read the action seemingly before it occurred. He countered. Wilkins wasn't able to move fast enough to avoid the returning thrust and felt a burning sensation along his rib cage. First blood was drawn. Anger increasing, Wilkins pursed his lips together and released an ear splitting whistle, hoping to disrupt the other's attention. Ellison was a sentinel and should be as sensitive to sound as he was.

Senses heightened to a fine degree, the Sentinel saw Wilkins shape his lips and unconsciously dialed back his hearing. The loud noise to all others in the cavern was shrill and ear splitting. But to the Sentinel, it was nothing more than a bird whistle. He gave the other a grim smile, letting Wilkins know that he was unaffected, and made his move. Using the training that had been engrained into his body and soul during his years in the Army, the Sentinel went on the offensive by charging forward with his arms moving in a blurring motion. As he got closer, his knife hand swinging to the outside. When Wilkins moved his weapon to counter and deflect the blade, a hand shot forward to clip him on the side of the head. The dark glasses covering Wilkins' eyes went flying, causing him to squint at the brightness of the room.

"Not bad, Ellison," Wilkins panted, stumbling back and to the side to catch his breath. He quickly circled around to keep his opponent from having a straight shot at him. "I think I'll just wound you and leave you here to let Blair know that I can be benevolent. He might be a little more cooperative when we leave, knowing that you couldn't help him." Wilkins eyes trailed over to where his former captive leaned against the large black man. He almost faltered at the intense look of confidence Sandburg wore on his face. The deep blue eyes were locked onto Ellison.

An almost feral grin appeared on the Sentinel's face. He could smell the fear beginning to pour off the other, see the sweat marring the man's brow while he was not even breathing hard. "You'll have to kill me to take him, Wilkins. And in doing that, you'll have lost him completely. Blair and I are one in ways that you'll never be able to fathom. One such as you tried to separate us before. She failed and you will, too."

With that, the Sentinel shifted, feinting to the right. As Wilkins went to block the move, the Sentinel tossed the knife into his left hand and made a controlled sweep. The blade cut deeply into Wilkins knife arm. As the man cried out and grabbed at the bleeding wound with his free hand, the Sentinel shifted the knife back to his right hand and struck again. This time the blade sliced down the right side of Wilkins' face. The wound almost mirrored the scar on the left side.

"Aaaah!" Wilkins screamed, stumbling back to fall onto his ass. Releasing his knife, he clutched at the gaping laceration on his face, blood flowed freely down his neck. Looking up, Wilkins watched Ellison step closer until the man loomed over him. Death stared down at him, its bloody knife pointing menacingly at Wilkins' head. Standing beside him was a large, black feline, its eyes blazing green and a snarl on its lips. "Please," Wilkins moaned, hands holding both of his wounds.

The Sentinel stared down at the other, silently debating whether to finish off his opponent or make the man suffer more. His decision was made by another. The energy he'd felt flowing into him from his Shaman faltered, just enough to turn his attention away from the sentinel. Swinging around to look, he saw that his Shaman had his eyes closed and was slumping back against his Chief. The flow stopped completely and all that remained was the normal bond between the two men. Seeing signs of pain etched across the smaller man's features, in that instant Jim Ellison returned. The change was obvious to anyone paying attention: his features were no longer cold and inhuman, his body relaxed out of its fighter stance and the fire slowly died from his eyes.

Moving his gaze around the cavern, he noticed that Brown and Rafe were nearby as well as a couple of uniformed officers. The black detective was covering Tom and Bernie while they were being disarmed and handcuffed by an officer. Rafe was crossing the floor toward Wilkins to take control of the injured man.

"Jim," Banks called to his detective. Quickly, Ellison moved across the room to kneel by Sandburg, laying his knife onto the ground. "I think he passed out. Can you tell..." He left the question hanging, not wanting to mention their connection.

Ellison cupped his hand under Sandburg's chin and lifted the still face to take a better look. The lower lip was split, but not bleeding, and a reddened area along the jaw indicated physical abuse. Gently lowering Blair's head back down until it rested against Simon's chest, Jim lifted the blanket away from the body to look at Blair's back. He ground his teeth at the inflamed stripes across the flesh, a few bleeding slightly, but most just swollen and obviously very painful.

"Not...pretty, is it?" Blair mumbled, slowly opening his eyes and lifting his head to look at Jim. A lop-sided grin tried to form on his mouth, but it looked more like a grimace. "Hey, Jim."

"Hey yourself, Chief. How are you doing?" Ellison grinned back.

"Used, abused and ~cough~ ow. I'm ready to get out of here. Can we?"

As he reached forward to take possession of his partner, Ellison heard a struggle from behind and a muffled 'oof.' Unconsciously, he dropped his hand to grab the knife by his knee while he swiveled his body around. Wilkins had hit the uniformed officer in the stomach, dropping the man to his knees. He was battling with Rafe over the possession of the uniformed officer's service revolver.

Flipping the knife around until he was holding the blade by his fingers, Ellison shouted, "DOWN!" Rafe obeyed instantly, releasing his hold on Wilkins and dropping to the ground.

Wilkins was just bringing his arm holding the revolver down when he felt something slam into his breast, knocking him back a few steps. Looking down, he saw the handle of a knife sticking out of his chest. With an expression of disbelief, he looked back up into Ellison's face and tried to speak. No words came out. Then, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, he collapsed backward to the ground. He was dead before he hit.

The cavern was enveloped in silence. All eyes stared at the unmoving body of the once leader of the underground community. Rafe, folded on the ground near Wilkins, leaned over and placed a hand at the man's neck. Feeling no indication of life, he looked over to his Captain and shook his head. Climbing to his feet, the young detective went to help the officer the dead man had attacked.

Henri Brown crouched down next to Banks and Sandburg. He was eyeing the smaller man. "Paramedics are on their way, Captain. I'm not sure they'll be able to get a gurney down through that airshaft, though."

Blair shifted away from Simon and struggled to get to his feet. "Don't need a gurney. Help me up."

"Just sit still, Sandburg. You'll be falling on your face in five seconds if you stand." Banks held onto his struggling friend. Inadvertently, his arm brushed the other's back, eliciting a sharp cry.

That drew Ellison's attention back from the body of the man he'd just killed. Hunkering down, he placed his hands on either side of Sandburg's face. His friend reached up and grabbed an arm by his good hand. Ellison could feel the agony his friend was in. "It's okay, Chief. Draw in the strength and concentrate like Roni taught you. You can force the pain away until we get you above. That's it, breathe slowly and take back control."

Clutching his friend's arm, Blair recalled the training that had momentarily fled from his brain and obeyed the guidance. He used Jim's face as his focal point, pulled his breathing back into line and began controlling the waves of pain rippling along his back. As the pain lessened, so did his awareness of his surroundings.

As he saw Blair's eyes begin to glaze over, Jim smiled. Along their connection, he could tell that his friend was in control and could now be moved. It would be like guiding a puppet, but at least he couldn't feel any pain. "Help me get him to his feet, Simon. He can't do this for too long, but I think we can at least get him up into the sewer system before his strength gives out. It will help if the paramedics are ready with some type of sedative when we get there."

"Rafe," Banks ordered, jerking his head back toward the tunnel. Understanding, the younger detective took off. Turning his attention back to the man in his arms, he placed his hands under Sandburg's arms and lifted. In front, Ellison pulled on his friend's arms and both men brought the smaller man to his feet. Slowly, the three began walking out of the cavern. Filing behind, the people of the community followed.

Cascade Hospital, Two Days Later

Ellison walked through the open door to the hospital room, knowing that his friend was not asleep, but not expecting to see him standing at his window. The stance of Sandburg's body indicated that he was disturbed and it probably had something to do with the grim figure of Megan Connor who had breezed past him in the lobby.

"Hey, Jim." Blair didn't turn around from the window.

"Didn't go too well, did it?" Jim asked calmly, sitting on the side of the hospital bed.

Chuckling humorlessly, Blair swung around and limped toward his partner. The larger man shifted to allow his friend access to his bed. With a small hiss, Blair carefully climbed onto the stark sheets. "Go ahead and say it, man. I can hear the 'I told you so' tone in your voice."

"I'm not going to say anything."

"But I can hear those words bouncing around your head. There is a spark between us, that much I know. But we both agreed that, eventually, we'd just get onto each other's nerves."

"She didn't look too angry when she left."

"Oh, she wasn't. At least not about us. In fact, I think she was a little relieved. It was a phone call she received before she left that had her chewing nails. Something about how much it was going to cost to fix her car. I'd hate to be her mechanic right about now."

"So what has you feeling down wasn't caused by--" Ellison raised his eyebrows, confused at the direction the conversation was going.

"Well, yeah it was in part. I mean, it'd be nice to one day find that special someone. Our line of work just doesn't seem to offer us the opportunity to meet nice women."

"What's this? The eternally optimistic Blair Sandburg, who always seems to have a plethora of women chasing after him on a daily basis, is admitting defeat in the game of love?" Jim smiled mischievously, finally getting a smile out of his friend.

Blair returned the grin. "No way, man. Quit is not a word in my vocabulary. Except for maybe trying to convert you away from the evils of Wonderburger."

"Lost cause, Chief."

"That's what I thought."

"Back to the original conversation, Chief. What is really bothering you?"

Blair's grin faded as he gazed into his partner's eyes. "I've been wondering whether you're the only sentinel around who's not some type of thief or psycho. I've met three in five years, Jim. You're the only one who's not bent on using your abilities to break laws."

"Are you trying to say I'm special?"

"Yeah, man. You are special. Very special. You've got this moral streak a mile wide, would give the shirt of your back to help someone and wouldn't even consider using your gifts to do wrong. Why is that?"

Ellison placed a comforting hand onto his friend's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I don't know, Chief. Maybe you need to look into that, do a study or something. You are the brains of this partnership."

That gesture brought back the smile on Blair's face. "A study. Yeah, I can do that. Research into the backgrounds of Alex and Danny to see if there are any similar characteristics that sent them onto a different path. Of course, I'm going to have to look further into your background, you know. Talk to your father and brother and maybe some of your old classmates--"

"Time out, Sandburg." Ellison lifted his hands to halt his partner's rambling words. "Let's just get you home."

Blair's smile widened. "I can go with that. Any idea when I can get sprung from this joint? I think Dr. Somers has been avoiding my requests to see her."

Before Ellison could answer, Simon Banks entered the room carrying a bag. He set it down on the ground. "How long are you going to continue this gold bricking, Sandburg? Having two of my detectives off the streets is causing the Major Crime arrest record to slump." The tall black Captain tried to sound gruff, but the twinkle in his eye belied the friendship he had with the two.

"Just as soon as I can get released. The knee is doing better, my back's only a little stiff and at least it was my left hand burned and not the right. I'll be able to handle the load of work I know is probably waiting at my desk." Blair straightened up, trying to appear in better shape than he really felt. In truth, his back was still quite tender and his hand was bothering him more than he wanted to admit. He adjusted his hospital gown with his right hand to relieve the irritation it was causing to his back. The left was covered with thick layers of gauze to prevent infection of the opened blisters.

Ellison wasn't buying the act. He could see the effects of his friend's injuries in his eyes, the still present pain causing the blue eyes to darken. And along the bond between them, Ellison could tell exactly how bad it was. He stared at Blair until the young man lowered his gaze, dropping the false pretense of good health.

Knowing that something had passed between his two detectives that he wasn't to be a part of, Banks cleared his throat to get their attention. "Now that I have you both together, I'd like to know what came over you down in the mine, Jim."

"What? Something happened? When?" Blair leaned forward, concern in his voice.

Ellison gave his superior a confused look, searching back through his memory. "When was that, sir?"

"When you fought Wilkins. I'd swear that wasn't the Jim Ellison I know wielding that knife. Your eyes looked... I don't think I can explain how you looked."

Ellison rubbed his forehead. The memory of the fight was a blur. What was disturbing to him was that it felt similar to his recollection of the time spent in Peru after the crash so many years ago. "It's really strange, but I can't really remember too much about what happened." He sounded frustrated.

Blair shifted forward and rested his good hand onto his friend's arm. "Take it easy, Jim. The memory is there, but probably pushed back because of what happened. Okay?"

Jim searched through the calm gaze of his partner and friend. Seeing the trust and confidence there, he nodded and closed his eyes.

"Good. Now think back two days ago. You're traveling down the tunnel with Rafe, nearing the central cavern." Seeing Jim nod, Blain continued. "What happened next."

"We didn't want Wilkins to see me first so Rafe had taken the lead. I'd heard him stop to check out an opening when I... felt that something was wrong. So I moved up to where he was and stopped him. I listened to see if I could hear what was going on up ahead when I heard Wilkins order the whipping." Ellison's jaw clenched at the memory, the cry he'd heard from Sandburg after the first blow and the pain with each lash afterwards.

Blair gave Jim's arm a squeeze and small shake, bringing the larger man's attention back to the room. "That's in the past, Jim. Let it go and move on. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." The muscles around the jaw slowly relaxed and Jim followed his Shaman's guidance. Clearing his throat, he continued to recall the incident in the tunnel. After several long seconds, he continued. "Ah, after you called to me through the bond I..."

Remembering, Jim was suddenly back in the tunnel. Only this time he was aware that he wasn't in control of his body. He watched as his body continued forward through the tunnel and into the cavern to see Blair hanging from the pole in the center. Then he was in the middle of the fight, remembering all that happened, when a sharp blow across his cheek brought him back into the hospital room. Looking up, he saw the dismayed faces of Blair and Simon.

"Jim! What in the hell just happened here?" Banks exclaimed. "It took me almost 10 minutes to bring you around. You just about gave me a heart attack and I'm sure Blair has aged 10 years." Blair nodded in agreement, his eyes wide.

Ellison wetted his lips. "I was remembering the fight in the tunnel It wasn't me that fought Wilkins. Or at least, I wasn't really in control then." Looking firmly into Sandburg's eyes, he dropped the bombshell. "The sentinel in me took control when I realized that you were being tortured by another sentinel."

"The what!" Banks exclaimed.

"The sentinel in me. He stepped forward and took control and I had no problem in letting him do that. It was the only way that Wilkins could be defeated. I could tell that my senses were in tune with everything around me and I could almost anticipate the moves the man was going to make even though 'He' was in control. And you helped, Chief. I could feel you supplying me/him with strength and confidence in our ability to defeat him. I could also feel you, Simon. There was something of you coming through the energy Blair was providing."

"Oh, wow," Blair whispered, running a hand through his hair to brush it back from his face. "And you came back when the danger was over, right?"

Ellison dropped his head to stare at his hands. "Actually, I was trying to decide on whether to kill Wilkins or not when I felt the energy from you falter. That's when I remember being back in control."

Banks groaned. "I really don't want to be hearing this, Jim."

"I know, sir. But it's what happened."

Blair bounced on the bed, his excitement high. "This is like, so cool, Jim. I wonder if this development is because of your experience at the temple of the Sentinels or due to our bond. We're going to have to bring this up to Roni and see if she can help you get more of a handle on this. Wait, how are you feeling now?"

Jim pursed his lips and shook his head. "Fine. Like everything is back to normal. No danger. I can't feel anything different." Seeing the look in his partner's eyes, one that indicated the smaller man was thinking hard, Jim groaned quietly. The air of 'we need to test this' was all around Blair.

"Well, I really don't want to be around the next time your other one comes out. Jim Ellison in a bad mood is enough for me." Banks grinned at his detective.

"You don't see that side as much as I do." Blair leaned back, but still wasn't able to dodge Jim's hand that flew up to smack him lightly on the side of the head. He gave a quick grin to cover the groan that escaped from his movement. To keep the subject off of his condition, Blair turned to Simon. "I meant to ask you how you felt when you were helping me, Simon. I mean, I don't think I would have been able to go as long as I did without you there."

Banks stared down at the bed, rubbing his brow. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to speak the words that didn't want to come out, before looking back up at his men. Both were watching him closely. "The only way I can describe it is that it was a head rush."

"Not tired or drained?" Simon shook his head. Blair pulled at his bottom lip, his eyes becoming distant. "So... I guess that means that I wasn't drawing anything from you. Like I said before, you grounded me. Keep me from burning out by allowing me to draw energy from my reserves and maybe some other place."

Jim tapped Blair on the forehead to get his attention. "We are not going to make it a habit of you doing that, hear me Chief?"

"Agreed. Strictly on an 'as needed' basis and I would be more than happy for the need not to appear for a very long time." The other two could hear the conviction in Blair's voice. "So, what's going to happen with all the homeless people Danny had with him? Are they being forced back out into the streets?"

"Social Services has stepped in and taken over their care. They are being offered places to stay, help to find any relatives that they can get assistance from, and counseling. No one is going to be back out on the street unless they demand it. Of course, those that we can prove were part of the robberies will have to stand trial. The city is also going to make sure that any and all entrances into the mine are closed and sealed after they disconnect the utilities." Simon bent down and picked up the bag he'd carried into the room, handing it over to Blair. "I think you'll want these, Sandburg."

Opening the satchel, Blair's eyes opened wide and he broke into a broad grin. "My journals. Thanks, Simon. Where'd you find them?" Pulling out a notebook, he leafed through the pages to check the contents for any damage.

"Brown found them in Wilkins' living area when he and Rafe were securing the scene. Apparently, he recognized your scrawl. I don't think we want these to be part of the case file on Wilkins."

"Definitely not."

"You're going to have to find a good place to store them, Chief. After I get to read them, that is." Ellison picked up one of the notebooks and started thumbing through it. Sandburg pulled it out of his hands before he got too far.

"I'd rather you read the actual dissertation, Jim. Easier to understand and--"

"And less chance of him seeing some of your more colorful comments about his behavior," Banks interrupted, a sly grin on his face. It widened into a broad smile when he saw the other's reactions. Sandburg colored in embarrassment and Ellison, his expression hardening, grabbed back at the journal. Stepping back, Banks exited the room. "I'll see you gentlemen later."

"Now Jim," Blair stammered. "A good researcher has to write down his feelings and opinions as accurately as possible when working with his subject. And you have to admit, there were times when you weren't the most genial person to be around and you tended to treat me as well some of the others with--"

"'Headstrong and belligerent during confrontations.' What is this, Sandburg? 'Territorial and possessive attitude could be strong indication of a sentinel's imperative to secure his tribal ground.' I think I want to see all of your books."

"I knew you were going to act this way if you saw my notes, Jim. That's why I want you to see what I wrote in the paper first. You always get touchy and tend to overreact."

"Touchy and tend to overreact? I think I really have a reason if this is what you say you've observed. Tell me when..."

Walking down the hall of the hospital, Banks chuckled over the voices he could still hear coming from Sandburg's room. He knew nothing would come from the argument, not if he knew the way the kid could soothe Ellison. This was probably the best thing that could happen to the two. Secrets were definitely not something that either of them should have from one another.

The end.

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