This is the next story in my AU 'Chaos' universe, and it would help to read the others before this to understand the storyline. It is a crossover with the Mag 7 universe, though not in any way which has been created so far... I think.

Mega thanks to my fantastic beta, DebbieLD, for taking the time to look the story over and help me with my lousy punctuation. She continues to work on my grammar difficulties and weaning me away from my obvious Midwestern style of speech. You're a queen of a beta, gal!

My thanks also goes to Cindy Combs for the lengthy telephone conversations and very helpful brainstorming sessions. She continues to give me constant encouragement to keep writing and to start working on my RL book. Sealie, too, gave me some good advice and help with the story as a secondary beta.

I'm not sure how to rate this, after reading about some controversy over using the same ones used by the motion picture and television industry. So let's just say it has some violence and language, but nothing too severe.

Enjoy!

WE'RE NOT ALONE

Shallan

Outside Cascade Police Department

A soft drizzle fell across the city of Cascade, Washington, giving its many streets a hazy appearance. A pedestrian clutched a damp jacket over her head, blocking her side vision, as she scampered quickly across the street. Her intent was clear: to get out of the wet weather as soon as possible. She didn't even look at the police car that had to brake sharply to keep from hitting her.

The uniformed officer in the cruiser cursed under his breath as the errant jaywalker made a short hop up the curb and continued quickly on her way. He gave his horn a short toot, warning her of the accident she'd almost caused. He didn't expect his action to cause any type of reaction, but it just felt like the right thing to do. He was surprised when the woman turned to glare at him and make a rude gesture before continuing down the sidewalk at a fast trot.

Shaking his head, the officer drove slowly forward until he was even with the side entrance of the Cascade Police Department. When the vehicle stopped completely, the passenger-side door opened and a young, longhaired man stepped out. He pulled his backpack over his left shoulder and leaned back in to thank the officer before stepping away and closing the door firmly. The cruiser remained at the curb until the young man was safely in the building.

Going through the many security checks to reach the Major Crime division could be considered a hassle by some, but Blair Sandburg was well aware of the reason no one but those authorized were allowed access unless they had a proper escort. So he calmly provided his identification badge each time it was requested and worked his way through the different checkpoints until he was able to head down the corridor leading to his destination. He paused at the doors and took a couple of deep breaths. Then, straightening his shoulders and adjusting his backpack into a more comfortable position, he pushed open one of the doors and walked into the bullpen.

When he made it all the way over to the desk he normally occupied without being noticed, Blair was surprised but happy that no one paid any attention to him. Guess I've been around here long enough to be a part of the scenery, he thought to himself and relaxed.

As he carefully set his backpack on the floor and hung his damp coat on the nearby rack, he heard footsteps approaching. Thinking it was probably his partner and bracing himself for the reaction he knew the man would have, he turned around and was surprised to see that it was Detective J.E. Rafe walking toward him holding a mug with a steaming liquid. The young, dapper-looking detective was moving with exaggerated care to ensure nothing splashed from the cup.

"Ellison asked me to bring this to you -- good God, Blair! What happened to you?"

Rafe's tone aroused the attention of his partner, Detective Henri Brown. The older man looked up in annoyance at being disturbed, but his expression quickly changed to surprise when he saw the reason for the commotion.

"Hey, Hairboy. Whose fist did your face intercept?" Brown came around his desk to stand beside his partner, his loud grunge style of clothing a direct contrast to the other's GQ look. With a sly grin, he asked, "Some girl's boyfriend take exception to the attention you were giving her?"

Blair blushed slightly and dipped his head. "No, it wasn't anything like that." Self-consciously, he reached up and touched the reddened and bruising area on his left cheek. "In fact, it really wasn't more than... aw, damn." He saw his own partner coming out of the break room wrapping a blue-colored ice pack in a towel. Sighing in resignation, he reached forward to take the mug from Rafe then sat down in his chair and waited.

Detective Jim Ellison wore a determined expression on his face as he strode up to his partner and handed over the bundle he'd put together. Leaning back against his desk, he crossed his arms over his chest, leveled his gaze on the seated man and waited.

Blair blew softly on the liquid in the mug and took a sip before setting it down. Placing the ice pack up to his cheek, he winced at the first touch of the coldness against the damaged area. "You knew it wasn't anything really serious. Otherwise, I know you would have been charging across the campus with blood in your eye."

Ellison rolled his eyes, then turned and glared at the two men beside him snickering. Brown and Rafe quickly straightened their expressions and leaned back against a nearby desk, both folding their arms across their chests. "Just give me the facts, Chief."

"Okay. I went out to Rainier to see if those books I requested through the library had ever arrived. You know that they've been working on rebuilding to the pre-Chaos status." Blair opened his mouth to continue along that line of thought, but the stern look in Jim's eyes told him that stalling wasn't going to work. "Well, there was a... discussion between two groups of people on the steps of Hargrove Hall concerning Rainier wanting to raze a building on campus. One group, which was mainly student protestors, didn't want to lose the building since they use it as a temporary dormitory. The university wants the land the building occupies for some expansion project and some of the faculty and regents were in the other group. I knew people on both sides and thought I could do a little mediating to keep the situation from getting violent."

"It looks like you need more practice with mediating. Apparently the protestors weren't in a mood to listen." The twinkle in Brown's eye belied his solemn tone.

"Actually, they were. I just didn't expect Professor Hawthorne to lose his cool the way he did. I guess he thought I was the leader of the 'rabble' and went for a preemptive strike."

Rafe's eyes widened in shock. "One of the professors did that?"

Sandburg nodded sadly. "I'd gotten the protesters to calm down a bit, at least they were willing to listen to me, and then turned back to ask the other side if there was a place the leaders of each group could go to talk."

"And that's when the professor sucker punched you." Brown's eyes hardened, the humor gone.

"Well, not exactly. I knew the professor was angry. I could almost see it rolling off him in waves. When I asked if we could go some place and discuss the situation, he stepped forward, called me a couple of names, and then just hauled off and hit me. It's a little hazy after that, but I guess it turned into a free-for-all that required campus security to call for help from the city. I was able to get my ID out and show it to the university security and the cops who finally showed up; otherwise I'd probably be sitting in a holding cell somewhere waiting to get my one phone call." Blair fell silent and shook his head in disbelief.

Ellison caught Brown's attention and slightly nodded his head toward the other's desk. Nodding, Brown straightened up and elbowed Rafe to get his attention. "We better get back to work before the captain starts asking if we need something to do in his usual 'kind and gentle' way. Take care of yourself, Hairboy."

Leaning forward and pulling the ice pack away, Jim felt along Blair's cheek. The smaller man held still, knowing his friend was checking to see the extent of the damage. Despite the sentinel's gentleness, Blair still winced slightly at the pain the touch caused. Finished with the examination, Jim pushed the icepack back to Blair's face. "It's not cracked, which is a good thing, but the bruising is going to be spectacular. If you'd seen the punch coming, why didn't you duck?"

"I don't know. Maybe I was just surprised he'd take a swing. I can't believe I just stood there and let him do it."

Ellison did a cursory exam of Sandburg with his eyes. "Are there any other injuries, like getting stepped on or kicked after you went down?"

"Luckily, no. Oh, man. The whole thing was, like, so stupid in the first place." With his free hand, Blair picked up his cup and took another sip. "Thanks for having the tea ready, Jim, and for not coming after me. I really expected you to show up."

"It wasn't easy, Chief. Our... connection only gave me so much, but I could tell you weren't in anything too serious. We are going to talk about a little self-defense training for you, though, especially about how you should block a punch."

"I don't think that's necessary, Jim. I mean, looking for a fight is just not my scene and I don't think I look like someone who's spoiling for a fight. Do I?"

Ellison gave the other a pointed look before standing up and walking around to sit in his chair rubbing his neck. "Did you point out the professor to the officers on the scene so that they could book him properly?"

"Professor Hawthorne? Why?"

"Sandburg, what he did is called assault and battery, which is still considered a crime in this country despite the changes it has gone through. His fist hitting you wasn't an accident and he should be held accountable for his actions, even if it was in the heat of the moment. Do you think he should be allowed to get away with what he did?"

Blair stared into his partner's eyes for several seconds, seeing the anger and knowing it wasn't directed toward him. Finally, he shook his head and dropped his eyes. "No, you're right. He should know that violence isn't the answer no matter how impassioned the situation. I'll start filling out the forms." Turning to the computer sitting on the side of his desk, Blair tapped a key to activate the monitor. Abruptly, he turned back to his partner and asked, "Jim, are you feeling all right?"

Ellison stopped rubbing his neck and looked up. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess the barometer is dropping or something. It's nothing."

Sandburg stared at the man for several long seconds before shaking his head. "Okay. I just thought I felt... nothing." With a quiet sigh, he started tapping computer keys.

Jim watched the other easily navigate his way through the different screens on the computer until the forms program appeared, then he started sorting the paperwork stacked in the middle of his desk. When he didn't hear any additional typing sounds from his partner's desk, he didn't even look up as he said, "Don't take all day, Chief. I got a call from Silent Eddy and we're supposed to meet him over at the docks this afternoon about some activity he's seen that shouldn't be happening there. Also, I want to make sure we get a picture taken of your injury for the report."

Blair set down the icepack so that he could use both hands to type. "Can we get something to eat before going? I was going to pick up something on my way back, but the officer who drove me seemed pretty determined to make sure I came straight from the university. He said something about making sure I got here safe or his life was going to be hell." Glancing over his shoulder, Blair saw his friend shift uncomfortably and chuckled quietly. "Gotcha!" he whispered, knowing Jim heard him, then he started typing.

Port Cascade, Harbor District

A small, plain looking car stopped alongside a silent, dark building across the street from a row of long, metal buildings. The passenger door opened and Blair easily climbed out. Wrapping his sandwich back into its wrapper, he stuffed it into his backpack before bending over to tuck the satchel on the floor. He paused in the action as 'something' told him to keep the pack with him and pulled it back out.

Sandburg hadn't had many flashes of insight. At least not until the place he'd once called home had been attacked, the residents killed onsite or later in a stark warehouse in Cascade, Washington, and he himself had been packaged up for sale to a ruthless sentinel. Since then, he had too many situations where that 'little voice' told him to do certain things, and ignoring it had led to some bad consequences. It paid to listen to the 'voice', no matter what it said.

Lifting his backpack up and slinging it over his shoulder, Sandburg quickly depressed the lock and closed the door. As for Ellison, he had to unfold his legs and struggle to get out of the compact vehicle. He glared at his partner when he heard quiet chuckling then slammed his door shut.

"Hey, don't give me that look. I told you I would drive. I got my license just so I could handle situations like this," Blair said cheerfully as he walked around the vehicle.

"There's nothing wrong, Sandburg. They just make these things for pygmies like you and not people of normal height." Ellison patted the smaller man on the head, which earned him a smack on the arm. "Besides, this will probably be the last time I'll have to drive one of these slugs."

Blair raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Is the garage going to finally get around to changing the engine on your truck? I thought you were at least a year down on the list for the new electric type. How much extra are you paying them?"

"I am not paying the garage anything extra, except for a couple of additions they had available."

"One of the mechanics needed some tickets fixed or some type of charge against them to disappear?"

"Sandburg!" Ellison glared at his partner and started walking toward the warehouses, then paused and turned back around. "You're too young to be so skeptical. If you must know, Charlie just hired a new mechanic and the people ahead of me didn't want to trust their cars to someone they didn't know. I did and she was able to start working on the truck right away."

"She?" Blair laughed. "Oh yeah, you trusted her. Especially after you checked out her credentials to make sure she would take proper care of your baby."

Not answering but smiling smugly, Jim turned his attention to the line of buildings across the lot. Extending his hearing, he 'listened' for evidence of anyone in them.

Blair saw Jim tilt his head and knew his friend was using his senses. Unconsciously he stepped closer and stood quietly, ready to give support if needed. The taller man shifted and swiveled his head, then reached up and rubbed an ear. "What's the problem, Jim?"

Ellison shook his head and looked around the area. He also gave his neck a couple of rubs. "I--I'm not sure. I was feeling... antsy, I guess, at the precinct, and it's stronger here. Now, it's also like my head is full from a cold, a pressure. I can almost hear this high-pitched sound, too. I can't seem to concentrate..."

Resting a hand on the back of the taller man's arm, Sandburg said quietly, "Don't struggle with it, Jim. Take a deep breath, let it out and relax. That's it. Now, allow your hearing to stretch slowly toward the building. Don't force it."

Following the instructions, Jim finally heard the familiar voice of this snitch complaining about his surroundings. He also picked up sounds of people in the same building and others along the wharf. "Found him. Damn it, he's inside. He's not alone, though. I can hear others in a couple different areas."

"I don't doubt it. Unused buildings tend to become havens to a variety of people like the homeless, transients, and runaways." Blair nodded and scanned the different buildings. "Man, I forgot how large this whole area is, and it's just lying empty. What a waste of space."

"You're only looking at the visible part. Some of the buildings go down two or three levels below the dock, since many ships were loaded through the lower hatches as well as having cargo cars stacked on top. These buildings aren't completely empty, either. The shipping industry will start back up eventually, Chief, so the corporations that survived crated up their equipment and some supplies that would store easily and left them stacked inside. Very few people or companies have the money or connections to keep operating like they did in the past." Jim remembered one person like that, not too long ago, who hadn't cared how much money she'd spent to get what she wanted. Alex Barnes had also been a sentinel and decided that she wanted Blair to help her, with or without his cooperation. She had been the ruthless sentinel who had come close to taking him out of the country on one of the cargo ships her company had owned. Jim had to kill her to stop her.

"Sailing ships aren't too feasible for transporting goods great distances right now, and the government has put a restriction on all companies, partially for security but mostly for the resources needed to run them. It'll take a while longer before the cargo ships get refitted to use an alternate power source, but it will happen, and maybe sooner than many think. That's why these buildings haven't been torn down yet."

"Some look like they should have been torn down a while ago."

"The Chaos did cause some damage, but the city makes the owners give them annual inspections." Ellison looked up to the clouded sky, sniffed the air, and then started walking toward the buildings. "Let's get inside before it starts raining again."

"You think it's going to rain again? No, don't answer that. We're in Cascade. It's always raining." With a resigned sigh, Blair started jogging until he caught up with his partner.

The large, overhead doors at the warehouses were supposed to be chained shut or sealed in some way, leaving only a few smaller side doors accessible by the occasional security personnel who were supposed to keep an eye on the premises. Ellison found the way Silent Eddie had used to gain access, a slightly warped sliding door. Sandburg was small enough to easily slip between the two doors, the back one being slightly off its track, but Ellison had to struggle.

"Don't say a word, Sandburg. Not one word." Jim pointed at his friend after he scraped through.

Blair raised his hands in defense, a serious expression on his face but his eyes were twinkling with mirth. "No way, Jim. I would never comment on your eating habits and how they affect your body. Never."

After giving the other a mock glare, Ellison started walking further into the building. When he didn't feel his partner's presence following, he paused and glanced back. Sandburg was still at the doorway, his eyes darting around the building. "Is there a problem, Sandburg?"

Jerking his attention back, Blair shook his head. "Uh, no. I was just... it sort of looks... you know." With a small shrug of his shoulders, his gaze returned to scanning around the area.

Jim could hear Blair's heart beating faster, his breaths shortened. With a grimace, Jim walked back and laid a gentle hand on the other's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Blair. It was a bad idea to bring you here. I know it really hasn't been all that long since--"

Blair held up a hand and interrupted, "No. It's all right, Jim. It's a silly and irrational fear. It happened in the past and I can't allow it to control me now."

"It's not silly or irrational, Chief." Jim gave the shoulder under his hand a gentle squeeze and shake. "What happened was real and something that no one should ever have had to experience, especially you. Unfortunately there is always the chance of a flashback, and believe me when I say that I've been there and still have them spring up at me. It's called post traumatic stress."

"I know what it is, Jim. It's been documented pretty heavily, mainly on those who'd experienced trauma during a war and more recently with the events of The Chaos. I just never thought I'd have to experience it..." Blair's voice trailed off. Taking a deep breath, he blew it out quickly and gave his partner a quick smile. "Sorry, minor in psychology. I'm okay, now. Let's not keep your snitch waiting."

Ellison knew what his friend was trying to do and was irritated by the bravado the other was trying to display, but he suppressed the irritation and schooled his expression to one of neutrality. He knew Sandburg didn't want to be a hindrance and was willing to face his demons head-on, but he didn't have to face them alone. With a nod, Ellison turned and again started walking further into the warehouse.

Rows of crates filled the building, stacked three and four high. None of the rows were very uniform in shape, and some of the stacks looked a little shaky. The building also had a second floor stretching overhead along the back and three-quarters towards the front. It looked like it was loaded with stacks of cardboard boxes. Layers of dust covered everything, as well as bird and rodent droppings. The latter scurried frantically out of the path of the two men.

Ellison led the way through the maze of crates, pausing only once to listen and confirm their direction. It wasn't too hard to find where his informant had settled. He easily heard the man's voice rambling, frequently switching topics of his one-sided conversation.

"Geez. I've been here for hours, well, at least a couple. I wonder when Detective Jim will get here... wow, this is a really nice chair. Why was it covered up? Maybe I can take it with me. I'm sure Detective Jim will let me, if I can give him good information. Oh, a rat! He's a big one--"

Jim pulled his hearing back and glanced toward his partner. Blair had jumped closer as a rat scrambled over one of his feet. "He's in the office just up ahead, Chief. How are you doing there?"

"Oh, lovely, man. Just do me a favor and let me know when you're going to stampede another herd of rats. I want time to climb to safety." Blair scowled up at his friend then quickly returned his gaze toward the floor.

Jim grinned. "What's the problem? They're probably more scared of you than you are of them."

"Really? Is that why they only move a few feet away before turning around and snarling at me?"

"Rats don't snarl."

"Tell them that."

Jim opened his mouth to reply but realized it was probably futile to argue. "We'll only be here long enough to get the information from Eddie then blow this Popsicle joint. The rats won't be able to regroup to launch another attack in that amount of time." Turning, he started walking again.

"Don't give up your day job, Jim. You'd never make it on the comedy circuit because you are so not funny," Blair grumbled softly, knowing his friend still heard him.

Jim did, though he didn't acknowledge it. He made sure to remove the grin on his face before he walked up to the office, opened the door and entered. "Hey, Eddie. What do you have for me?"

Blair saw a small, wiry man stomp his feet on the floor to stop the spinning of his chair then leap out of it and rush toward Jim. The man was as short as Blair and looked like he was wearing several layers of clothes too large for his body which were covered with an old military field jacket. But that was the only resemblance. Eddie had short hair that was gelled into spikes and was a shade of red that could only have come from hair dye -- bad hair dye. While others in the PD had remarked on how hyper Blair was, Eddie had him beat.

"Detective Jim! Hey, you're here. I didn't think you'd make it. I was getting worried. What do you think of the chair I found? Think anyone would miss it if I sort of borrowed it? Who's the guy with you, Detective Jim? Is he your partner? I didn't know you got a partner. He sure doesn't look like most of the detectives I've seen--"

Ellison held up his hands. "Eddie! Slow down. Give me a chance to speak and I'll introduce you."

Eddie bobbed his head, but then bounced past Jim to grab Blair's hand and start shaking it vigorously. "Hi! I'm Eddie and Detective Jim is my friend. Are you his partner? Yeah, you must be if you're following Detective Jim around. He's a really good detective, isn't he? I try to help him by giving him information about some of the bad people in town and he helps me with lots of things."

"Eddie, you're right, "Jim said quickly when Eddie took a breath. He also helped Blair extract his hand from the tight, double-handed grip Eddie had on him and divert the informant's attention back to him. "This is my partner Blair and he's learning to be a good detective like me. Why don't you let him see how well we work together by showing how good informants provide information?"

"Silent Eddie?" Blair murmured, loud enough for only sentinel ears to hear.

Jim gave him a quick look that said 'I'll explain later' and gently pushed Eddie back until he was once again sitting down in the chair he'd found. "What's the information, Eddie?"

The small man squirmed around in the chair until he felt comfortable before giving Ellison his full attention, Sandburg no longer in his eyesight and therefore forgotten. "I've been hanging around that new food joint not too far from here. You know the place? They always seem to have big cars bringing people to it all the time. They toss out more food than any place I've seen in a long time. I've been able to really get a lot of almost new food. Why do people toss out so much? I mean, I know I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth--"

"I think they do it knowing they're helping others," Jim interrupted, knowing if he didn't the man would stray completely away from the subject. "So while you were there, what did you see?"

"Oh, yeah. Right. I'd found this really cool Army coat when I got here tonight and knew I was right about giving you this information. I was there last week and this guy who showed up wearing a soldier uniform and without a car... Detective Jim? What's wrong? Do your ears hurt?"

Blair had stepped back to allow Jim to keep Eddie's attention on him and tried to be invisible. He turned to watch out the door of the office when he heard the unmistakable sound of rodents squealing. He was repulsed and curious as he saw rats and mice scrambling away from the crates, moving almost in a panic. Before he heard the questions concerning his partner, Blair knew something was wrong. He felt something like startled surprise vibrate in his head, then it changed to an aching pain. Forgetting the rodents, Blair zeroed in to where he knew the feelings were emanating. Jim. The taller man was in pain, bending over with his hands clasped over his ears.

"Jim! What's wrong?" Blair asked, jumping forward to grab Jim and keep him from falling.

Ellison had felt a sharp change in the pressure before a high-pitched noise screamed into his ears. He gasped in pain and started to collapse when he felt Sandburg's hands covering his. Almost immediately the pain was diminished, but the sound was still there.

Sandburg pulled Ellison's head up so that he could look in the man's face. "Come on, man, talk to me. You're scaring me here."

"Noise. Screeching like nails on a chalkboard. Don't you hear it? God!" Ellison gasped, ending his downward movement to land on his knees. He grimaced and tried to pull his head back down when he felt the pressure increase, but Sandburg kept it pointed toward him with a firm but gentle hold.

"Breathe through it, Jim. Take control and bring your hearing level down. You can shut it out," Blair voiced firmly, his tone at a pitch he knew would get through to his Sentinel. Mentally, he willed the pain away from his friend. "Follow me, man. Breathe in deeply, hold it, and breathe out slowly."

Swallowing a small groan of pain, Ellison obeyed the instructions and copied Sandburg's actions. With each breath out, he claimed more control of his body. The pressure and noise were still there, but now at a level he could handle. Relaxing slightly, he gave his partner a small grin and opened his mouth to thank him when he felt the floor underneath him begin to vibrate.

Blair had released his head, but maintained contact with the man by placing his hands on Jim's shoulders. He could see the other was doing better. "That's it, breathe in with me and push the sound away as you exhale. You got it--"

Ellison grabbed Sandburg's wrist almost in a crushing grip, silencing the other. The Sentinel's eyes widened as the vibration under him increased. Looking around wildly, he could see the minute quivering of the objects around the room. Realizing what was happening, he staggered to his feet and gasped, "We've got to get out of here. Damn! This is going to be a big one."

"Big one? What are you talking about?" Blair asked as he tried to free his arm. Then he was able to feel the floor under his feet begin to tremble and understood. "Oh, God," he whispered. He'd been at Rainier University when the first massive earthquake had struck the west coast those many years ago and the memory of that time roared through his mind, freezing him in terror.

Jim heard the ceiling above the office rattling and groaning, the unmistakable sounds of straining wood getting ready to snap, and knew the office was not a good place to ride out the earthquake. Jerking Blair out of his daze by yanking on the arm he held, Jim looked back toward his informant as he began moving toward the door. "Come, Eddie. We have to get out of here."

Silent Eddie was watching the furniture around him begin to jump, smiling in childlike fascination that the movement was happening without anyone touching it. "Wow, Detective Jim. This is like one of those rides at the park." Sitting down in the chair he'd claimed when he had first entered the office, Eddie kicked off with his feet to make it roll across the floor toward a side wall. An insane smile blossomed across his face at what he was feeling through the chair.

"Eddie!" Ellison yelled. Seeing that the other wasn't paying any attention, he first turned to Sandburg and pushed him through the door and out into the warehouse. Then he started toward Eddie, intending to grab the little man and drag him out of the office. He saw Eddie push away from the far wall then a hard jolt caused the chair to jump, dumping its occupant. The movement of the ground was becoming more violent. Ellison staggered, almost losing his balance, then looked up quickly when he heard an ominous crack from above. With an explosion of noise, a large portion of the ceiling gave way and crashed down on the area he'd last seen Eddie. Everything that had been sitting on the second floor followed the ceiling to the ground. Ellison stared at the area, not believing what had happened.

"Jim! Get out of there!" Blair yelled, clinging to the doorframe to keep his balance.

Shaking himself back aware, Jim turned toward Blair. The smaller man was cringing at the bits of debris falling on and around him, but he stayed steadfast at the door. Jim could feel the fear and anxiety emanating from his friend, and he could tell it was mostly directed toward him. Weaving across the floor, struggling to stay on his feet, Jim barely made it to the door when the rest of the ceiling came down where he'd just been standing.

"Come on!" Ellison yelled, pulling Sandburg away from the collapsing office. "We have to get out from under the overhang. Head that way." He pointed to his right, in the direction of the wall facing the harbor. Unfortunately they would have to go through some stacked rows of crates to get to an open area.

Jim held onto Blair, practically covering him as the two staggered across the floor. Several crates smashed down in front of them, breaking apart and scattering their contents. Jim pulled Blair back to protect him, but the flying debris still hit the two and drew blood. Backing up, they tried a different direction and were almost clear of the crates when there was one final jolt that separated them before knocking each to the ground. Jim pushed himself up on his arms and looked across the rattling floor. He saw Blair roll toward a crate before something slammed down on his own legs. Before he could cry out in pain, something hit his head and darkness took him away.

Belleview Motel, Near Port Cascade

In a darkened room of a small motel close to the waterfront, the mighty shaking of the earthquake shifted the sleeping man but didn't quite bring him completely awake. It was the crash of the lamp that had been standing near the bed and the blaring of a car alarm that sounded like it was outside his room that finally brought him out of his alcohol-induced slumber.

With a low groan, he rolled to his side and felt the final shaking of his bed. The lids over the bloodshot eyes flicked open and quickly closed to shut out the stabbing light coming through the partially closed curtains over the window. Covering his eyes, the man rolled over to his other side so that his back was now toward the window. After a quick rub, he tried to open his eyes again. The room still seemed too bright, but by squinting he was able to finally focus on the faded pattern of the wallpaper.

The car alarm shut off, but other sounds came loudly to the man's ears. He could hear that it was raining lightly, the water rattled against the roof and drained into the gutter, and panicked voices saying something about an earthquake. They seemed like they were right outside his room. With another groan, the man pushed his body up to sit on the side of the bed and rubbed his face. Suddenly, like a dimmer switch being turned down, he could no longer hear the rain and the voices disappeared. The brightness of the room faded down to a level that no longer seared his vision allowing the man to look around.

A nearly empty bottle of 'Old Hickory Whiskey' lay on its side near his feet. A glass with a small amount of brown liquid sat precariously perched on the edge of the nearby bedside table. He thought he heard a rumbling purr across the room and, swiveling around, could see the lamp that had obviously fallen over and was leaning against the far wall. For a moment, he saw the shadow of shape underneath the telephone stand. After rubbing his eyes, it was no longer there, but the clothing he remembered tossing onto the chair by the stand was now on the floor. Finally understanding what must have happened dawned. It had been an earthquake.

"Damn," he muttered, reaching up to rub at the short blond hair on his head. There seemed to be an ache in his left shoulder, but he didn't remember hurting it and rolled his shoulder thinking it was just a muscle cramp. The pain didn't go away even after kneading the area. He could also feel something pulling at his inside and he stood up and stumbled over to his window. There were people milling around the motel office across the parking lot, but the pulling was beyond them -- in the direction of the waterfront. Something within told him that he shouldn't ignore the urge, so he turned, grabbed up his clothes and headed for the bathroom.

"Jim? Hey, man. Are you with me now? Come on, Jim. It's time to open those eyes and let me know you're back."

The soft, insistent voice drew Ellison up through the murky darkness, allowing him to feel the many aches throughout his body. He also felt warm hands, one resting in the middle of his back and the other gently stroking down the side of his face. The soft touch was helping reduce the pounding pain echoing through his head. Taking a deep breath, Ellison shifted to roll on his side. The sharp pain flaring down his back to his legs halted the movement, and a load groan burst from his lips.

"Whoa there, man." Blair grabbed Jim's raised shoulder and helped him ease back down onto his chest. "I had to move a few things off you and I don't know how bad you're hurt. First thing, how's your hearing? Can you hear me okay?"

With an explosive breath, Jim hissed, "Yeah." He gasped a few deep breaths before forcing his eyes open to see Blair out of his left eye. He easily saw the minor cuts marring Blair's face, caused by the flying debris. "Are you okay?"

A relieved smile appeared on Blair's face. "With that question, I guess your eyesight is doing good. I've a few cuts here and there, more color to join my bruise, a little dirt and the crap scared out of me, but I'm doing good. How are you doing? Really--? The stuff I moved was a little heavy, so I need to check you out. Okay?"

Sandburg's face moved out of his line of sight and Ellison felt hands gently pressing down the back of his legs. When an especially tender area was touched, Ellison jerked and grunted in pain.

Blair immediately lifted his hands. "Sorry. I don't think I feel any breaks, but I don't have your ability with touching. Can you wiggle your toes, move your feet and legs?"

Jim slowly shifted his legs then moved his left arm up and rolled himself over until he was lying on his back. As he started to move, Blair shifted back up to his side and helped ease him over. Several areas on his back and legs protested the action, leaving Jim struggling to control the pain.

"Easy, man. What's the pain level at?" Blair asked. "Give me a scale of one to ten."

"Twelve," Jim gasped, clenching his eyes shut. He felt the warm hands back on his body, slightly trembling, one coming to rest on his neck below his ear and the other gently stroking down his arm.

"Let's bring it down to a more manageable level, okay? Concentrate on the control for pain and bring it down to eight... now down to five... and stop at three." Blair watched as his friend followed his instructions, the lines of pain leaving Jim's face. "Good. Don't go any further. Pain reminds us that we are hurt and won't try to do anything stupid that might cause more injury."

Ellison opened his eyes when he was in control and gave Sandburg a weak smile. "Thanks, Chief. I can't feel anything broken, but I don't think I'll be running any races for a while. Ah, my head is still ringing from that sound before the quake started. What was it?"

"Sound? I didn't hear... oh, right. You heard the harmonics." At Jim's confused look, Blair explained as his hands started to gesture, "It's a high-pitched sound. Harmonics are created with the movement of the tectonic plates deep down in the ground. It's normally too high for humans to pick up without machines, but not for animals. That's probably why I saw the rats freaking out. Your sentinel hearing could easily pick up something that high pitched. Man, we're going to have to work on that, Jim. I mean, it could really be a problem if you're working on a case and someone tries to call their dog using one of those whistles. The noise might really do some damage. We'll probably have to get one and work on some tests--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there, Professor." Ellison reached up and grabbed Sandburg's arm to get his attention. "There is no way I'm going to sit in some room and let you blow a dog whistle at me. Not unless you're ready to handle how cranky I'm going to be with the headache it will cause. We'll find another way, okay?"

"Right. I guess I wouldn't want to go through something like that, either. Sorry." There was a shaky, nervous tone to the apology.

Jim released the arm and gave it a couple of pats before letting it go. "That's okay, kid. I understand you wanting to help me. Give me a rundown on what happened after we got out of the office."

Sandburg sighed in relief and dropped his head down, his eyes losing focus as he remembered, his hand moving over and starting a slow stroke on Ellison's arm. "I can't believe we don't have more damage than we have, but the push you gave me was hard enough to get me over to the stack behind me. When all the shaking and falling crates stopped, I looked around to where I thought you might be and almost freaked when I saw all the stuff you were buried under. I mean, the only thing I could think was that you had to have some serious damage. Then after I got it all off, it seemed like forever before you woke up, and I think that scared me more than having to go through another earthquake. I could tell that you were alive, but I couldn't get any response--"

Jim reached over his body and caught Blair's hand in mid stroke. That brought the pale face surrounding wide blue eyes back up to look at him. Jim gave the hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay, Blair. We're both alive, in relatively good shape and survived one hell of an earthquake. Right?"

"Right, right." Blair swung his gaze around the warehouse, what he could see of it, then took a deep, shaky breath and blew it out. "Think you can take some water?" Without waiting for a reply, he leaned back and snagged his backpack.

Feeling a minor ache up on the left side by his hairline, Jim reached his hand up and found the damaged area. The cut was about an inch long and still felt a little tacky, but Jim could also tell that it was healing. He gave an exasperated sigh and said, "Sandburg."

Turning back with a bottle of water in his hands, Blair saw the blood on Jim's hand, immediately understood the tone in that one spoken word and held up a hand. "I'm not doing anything, Jim, at least not consciously. I saw that the cut was bleeding pretty good after I got all the stuff cleared off you, but I only did some basic first aid. You know, make sure it was pretty clean and apply pressure to get it to stop bleeding. I swear, man. I can't help it if my concern for you triggers... that."

Ellison could tell that his friend wasn't lying, but it didn't make him feel any better. Blair Sandburg was a guide, a person who worked with a sentinel to help him or her with their senses and keep them from zoning out. He was Guide to Ellison the Sentinel, a fact the two accepted was 'meant' to be, though surprisingly it had been harder for Sandburg to accept. The young man felt he was the main cause of Ellison getting hurt by another sentinel in search of a guide and would have distanced himself as much as possible. Sandburg had even started traveling back to the only home he had known, a community in the wilderness, knowing the place might not still be standing. It had been attacked and many of the residents killed. The rest were captured to have their organs harvested in an illegal operation and Sandburg had been prepped for sale to the same sentinel who almost killed Ellison. The operation was stopped in a timely raid by the Cascade Police Department, with Ellison and Sandburg meeting and, in a way, saving each other's life.

After Jim caught up with Blair on the outskirts of Cascade and getting him to acknowledge the 'rightness' of them being together, they had starting developing a pretty strong connection. Each had a type of ability to track each other: Jim's ability seemed to be stronger and he could also get a stronger 'feel' of things happening to his friend; Sandburg had the skill and ability to help his Sentinel control and use his enhanced senses, which he used with a fervor that almost had Ellison cringing every time the word 'test' came up.

It turned out that Sandburg also had a healing ability, though only with Ellison, and so far it hadn't required any effort on his part for it to work. Ellison was worried about what it might cost his friend physically to actively use it, even though Sandburg really wanted to test his ability to see what and how much he could do. The Sentinel had been able to hold him off so far. He had jokingly said he refused to deliberately hurt himself for a test, but that didn't express his real reasons. The bad thing about the ability was that it only worked one way Guide to Sentinel. Any injury the Sentinel received seemed to heal at an uncanny rate, with any pain involved dissipating quickly. For the Guide, no such luck. The injuries Sandburg had received the second time he'd been kidnapped, with the intent to complete the delivery to the now deceased sentinel, as well as from the trip back to his previous home last fall, had taken the normal time to heal. Ellison stayed vigilant to ensure Sandburg didn't try to test his ability at any given time.

Nodding to the offer of water, Jim reached forward to take the bottle. Blair kept hold of it and twisted the cap off. Then he slid an arm under Jim's neck and helped raise his friend up high enough to take a drink. The cool water helped sooth the rawness in his throat and wash away the layer of dust he'd breathed in from the shaking and falling crates.

Jim shook his head when Blair tried to get him to drink more. "Better not. We might need that later, depending on how long it takes for us to get out of here." Resisting Blair trying to push him back down, Jim struggled up into a sitting position.

"That may be a while, unless you know of a better way than the one we used to get in." Blair pointed back towards the front of the building. "It looks like part of the second level collapsed and we won't be getting back out that way."

"Figured that would happen. We can work our way toward the pier side of the building and see if we can force open one of the overhead doors or another entryway. We will get out of here, Chief." Ellison stated the last part mostly to ease his friend's fear. He didn't miss the minor shaking of the hand and the slight tremor in Sandburg's voice that only someone like him would be able to notice.

Patting his jacket, Jim felt the lump of his cell phone in a lower pocket. Pulling it out, he saw a crack in the casing along the back. "Damn," he muttered, flipped up the lid and pressed the power button. Nothing. He could smell an acrid, acid-like odor and turned the phone over. Looking closer at the crack, Jim saw that the battery was damaged.

"We won't be able to call for help, will we?" Blair asked, watching Jim fiddle with the phone.

Ellison closed the lid and tucked the phone back into a pocket. "As bad as the quake was, we probably would be waiting for a while anyway. We're not hurt or trapped in a life threatening way, so what say we get ourselves out of here and go help some people who are really in trouble."

Blair smiled back at the grin on his friends face. "I'm down with you on that. Lead the way, Kemosabe." At the confused expression on Jim's face, Blair added, "What? Kemosabe? That's what Tonto called the Lone Ranger. ~sigh~ You would think that a man who calls his partner 'Chief' would know about that classic television show. I'm way younger than you and I know about it."

"When I was growing up, my father didn't believe in letting my brother and I watch much television, with the exception of the news or business shows." With a suppressed groan, Ellison pushed his way to his feet and started brushing down his clothes. "He expected us to follow in his footsteps to eventually take over the business. I blew that dream."

"Brother? I didn't know you had a brother. Is he anything like you? You know, does he have any heightened senses?"

When Jim looked up, Blair was able to catch the quick flash of pain in his friend's eyes before it disappeared behind the wall of non-emotion the other tended to keep in place. He quickly apologized, "Hey, sorry man. I don't have the right to pry into your private life. You, uh, you take your time getting your bearings and I'll go this way to look for another door." Without waiting for a reply, Blair handed over the cap for the water bottle then quickly turned and walked away.

"Blair," Jim called after his friend, but he had already disappeared into the jumbled pile of crates and debris. With a muttered 'damn it', Jim recapped the water bottle and carefully leaned down to pick up his friend's battered backpack. Stuffing the bottle into the pack, he tilted his head and listened in the direction Blair had headed. He was just able to hear his friend's angry murmuring.

"Real stupid, Blair. We just survived a mega earthquake, not knowing if we'll be able to get out of here alive, and you start asking really stupid questions about the man's private life. If he wanted you to know about any family, he would have told you by now." Blair quieted for a several seconds before he said in a whisper, "I'm so sorry, Jim."

I know, kid, Ellison thought sadly to himself. I know almost your whole life story and you know practically nothing about me. It's me who should be sorry. Shouldering the backpack, he started after his friend.

It was starting to get darker in the building and Jim adjusted his sight to be able to catch the fading light. He would be okay for a while, but even a sentinel needed a small amount of light to be able to see. Knowing Blair wouldn't have any advantage, he hurried forward to catch up with his friend.

Blair had finally made it to the wall and started feeling along it in hopes of finding a door. He could barely see five feet in front of his face, but he wasn't going to wait until Jim caught up with him. He could feel a breeze of chilled, moist air to his left and started moving carefully in that direction. Before he knew it, his hand brushed the metal track for an overhead door. Side-stepping a little further, he could see the dim outline of one side and feel the cold air directly on his face.

"Hey, Jim! I found a door," Blair yelled. He stepped a few feet back and peered into the darkening building to find his friend before turning back to the door.

Ellison stepped around a couple of smashed crates and spotted Sandburg. The young man was moving forward and reaching out to feel the metal in front of him, searching along the door. Ellison could easily see the light coming through the cracks and the chain for manually opening the door hanging a few feet to Sandburg's left. Suddenly he heard the creaking groan of stressing metal and, piggy-backing his sight to his hearing, saw what his friend was standing on.

The warehouse workers had to be able to move crates and equipment from one level of the warehouse to the other in a minimal amount of time. Above the overhead door was a winch system with a platform attached to chains safely secured to the wall. Built into the floor was a large, split down the middle, trapdoor. From below, the controller would be able to open the doors and operate the winch. Although the trapdoor had been secured when the warehouse had been closed down years earlier, time and salt corrosion from the nearby waterfront had weakened the locking bar. Then the recent earthquake loosened the whole thing, cracking the bar bolting the doors together. It was the sound of the bar giving that Ellison heard.

"Sandburg!" was the only thing Jim was able to yell before he heard the final crack of the bolt.

Blair turned toward his friend, surprised at the intensity of the yell, then the floor split in half and dropped from beneath him. He gave a cry of surprise and disappeared.

Outside the Warehouse

The Belleview Motel was only about six blocks away from the docks and it hadn't taken the man very long to walk there. The concrete along many sidewalks was buckled, as well as parts of the streets. Glass from broken windows was strewn everywhere, and having a hangover made climbing over some of the wreckage a bit of a chore. But the 'tugging' sensation the man felt kept him moving until he was standing outside the parking lot of a dockside warehouse.

He passed a car that looked to be one of the new energy efficient models sitting under a pile of bricks which had obviously fallen from the nearby, quake-damaged building. The man gave a wiry smile at the mental picture he had of the vehicle's owner when he found out how bad of an idea it had been to park there in the first place. With a short chuckle and shake of his head, the man continued toward the warehouse. This was where he was being pulled and the good Lord only knew why.

The warehouse looked like it received a good amount of damage from the quake and the man was surprised at how easily he could see it all. It was very overcast, with a steady drizzle falling, and he knew it was fairly late in the afternoon. He shouldn't be able to see the far end and the fact that that end of the building had the end wall falling inward. Moving closer, he could see that the wall in front of him with a large door was bulging out.

Won't be able to get in that way, he thought, then froze when he heard voices coming from the building. He had to get in there, in case anyone was hurt. Not understanding why, or even caring, he started running toward the left end of the building. There had to be a way to get in.

Sublevel of the Warehouse

A voice was yelling at him. Blair couldn't quite understand the words, but the tone of the voice was making it through the darkness filling his head. Becoming aware that he was lying face down, he shifted and groaned. His body was feeling like one large, throbbing ache, though it didn't feel like anything was broken. Blair wanted to sink back into the darkness, but that insistent voice pulled him completely back to consciousness.

"Blair! Come on, buddy. Wake up and look at me."

"Ah, man," Blair groaned as he slowly rolled over onto his back. Forcing his eyes open, he saw Jim's face in the dim light staring at him from a square opening in the ceiling. "Jim?"

"Yeah, buddy." A relieved smile appeared on the older man's face. "Welcome back. How are you feeling? Anything broken?"

Blair shifted his arms and legs, noticing he was lying on soft lumps covered in plastic and some shattered pieces of wood. "Um, nothing's broke, just sore. Ow. What happened?"

"The longshoremen must have used a platform with a hoist to be able to move crates, equipment or other things through this opening down to the lower level. They probably secured the door after they closed up the building, but over the years the corrosion from the harbor and this last earthquake weakened the bolt and the doors gave way under your weight." Jim shifted forward so that he could lean further through the opening. "What are you laying on?"

Levering himself to a sitting position, trying to muffle a pained groan, Blair looked closer at what cushioned his fall. He picked up one of the plastic packages, bringing it closer to his face to try and read the printing. "I can't read it without my glasses in this light. This feels like a button. Can you make it out?" Blair turned the package over and held it over his head.

Ellison had already adjusted his sight to be able to see his friend in the darkened room and it only took a few seconds to zero in on the writing. "Looks like Army surplus uniforms." Looking around, he peered at the crates that had tumbled but not broke apart. "The others look like they are also full of military clothing and... bedding?"

"Army surplus? Why is it stored here?"

"I'm not concerned with the why, just grateful that they are. You could have been hurt pretty bad or worse in that fall. That was a long drop, Chief." Leaning back up, Ellison started looking around for some type of way to get down to his friend without jumping through the opening.

"Tell me about it," Sandburg mumbled to himself as he slowly stood up. Moving carefully, he stumbled off the makeshift mattress and splashed into a puddle of water deep enough to soak his tennis shoes. "Um, Jim? The floor is wet. Really wet."

The tone of fear coloring Blair's voice brought Jim's attention back. "What?" Looking closer, he could see the reflection of water around his friend.

Blair quickly stepped back onto the plastic bundles, his gaze darting around the dark area then locking onto the doors he could see in the wall that faced the harbor. "Is the water coming in? Please tell me this place isn't going to be flooded, Jim. I really don't think I can handle that, man. Did I ever tell you that I have, like, this major fear of drowning? And we really don't need to get into the whole cold and wet part. You gotta get me out of here--"

"Sandburg!" Jim had to raise his voice to get his friend's attention. "It doesn't look like there is any water still coming in. As strong as the quake had been, it probably messed with the tide or maybe caused this area to shift or drop a bit."

"Drop?!? As in fall into the harbor? Jim, you've got to get me out of here!"

"Calm down, Chief. If this place were going to drop into the harbor, it would have happened long before today. The water probably splashed up and flowed through the cracks around the door, but there isn't any more coming in, okay?"

Breathing hard, Blair stared up into his friend's face. The light was fading, but he could still see Jim's calm expression even as he heard the sincerity in the older man's voice. After taking another quick glance toward the door, Blair nodded and started taking slow, deep breaths to calm his hammering heart.

"That's it, kid. Everything's going to be okay. I'm going to get you out of there." Ellison tried to lean in far enough to get a good look around the lower level, but he could only see clearly in two directions due to the doors hanging down from the opening. If he leaned in any further, he'd end up beside his friend, and it wouldn't do any good if they both were trapped down there. "Can you see any other way out besides the door to the wharf?"

Blair looked around the darkening area, leaning forward and squinting. Shaking his head, he answered, "Sorry, man. If I had your eyes, probably, but it's getting darker than the inside of a cow down here." Blair turned his gaze up. "What about the hoist? Isn't that what you said they used to get stuff down here anyway?"

"Uh, uh. It would have been disconnected after being locked into place. This place is only getting minimal power, enough for any alarm system and a few security lights. There has to be stairs leading down to that level, but it may take a while to find them. Just hang tight... and don't go anywhere." Grinning, Jim pushed his body up and disappeared from view.

"Ha, ha, very funny, Jim. 'Don't go anywhere' he says. Where would I go?" Blair grumbled. With a sigh, he looked around at the plastic bundles, stepped over to several layered in a pile and sat down. "Just don't take too long, man. It's wet and really starting to get cold."

Ellison heard his friend's parting comments and chuckled to himself. He knew Sandburg didn't like the damp or cold that was a part of Cascade during much of the year. The young man always wore several layers of clothing, even when he wasn't going to leave the loft. If it really started to get cold, Ellison was confident his partner would make use of whatever he could find in the packages.

It was now his job to find a way down to the lower level then get both of them out of the building. Jim had traveled into another building when he realized he was still carrying Blair's backpack. He paused, considering whether he should go back and pass it down to his friend, when a prickling sensation tingled along the back of his neck. It was an unsettling feeling he vaguely remembered feeling before, though this time it wasn't exactly screaming a warning at him. Rubbing his neck, Jim started back to where he'd left Blair when he heard what sounded like a grunt of pain from an area in front of him. He remembered that he'd heard others in the area when he'd been listening for Silent Eddy, and it now sounded like one of them was hurt.

"Hello?" he called out, extending his hearing carefully. No one answered back. Jim could hear the sound of muffled breathing, like the other was trying to quiet the sound, and the fact that his or her heart was pounding rapidly. A shadow of movement caught the corner of his eye, something similar to a small or medium sized dog and limping, but nothing was there when he turned to look closer. With a shake of his head, Jim dismissed whatever it had been and returned his attention to the sounds coming from whoever was before him.

Understanding that the other sounded hurt and was probably scared, Ellison continued slowly toward where he'd heard the sound and started talking calmly. "Its all right. I know you're probably pretty scared, but I'm not going to hurt you. Okay? My name is Jim." He deliberately didn't mention that he was a cop. Since the other was obviously in the building illegally, hearing that he was with the police would probably send them into a panic.

The sounds led Jim to the far side of the building and to a jumbled pile of boxes. Setting down the backpack, he moved slowly around the mess until he was able to see the trapped person. He was a thin young man, somewhere in his late teens or early twenties, with long, wavy brown hair and startling blue eyes that showed he was either older than he looked or had had a pretty hard life. It was more likely the later if he had been living around this area for long and his clothing showed it. While the coat looked fairly new and in good shape, it was a military field jacket, Jim could see that the jeans the kid wore were worn and threadbare at the knees. The shoes also looked like they had seen better days. The young man was holding part of his coat over his mouth with one hand, to quiet his breathing, with his other arm lying limply on his lap. The young man's eyes widened in fear when Jim appeared, and he tried to shift back.

Ellison held his hands out to his side to show they were empty. He tried to look non-threatening, lowering his voice and giving the other a gentle smile. "Hey, its okay. I'm not going to hurt you. As I said, my name is Jim. Are you hurt?"

The youth slowly lowered the coat from his mouth and looked at Jim carefully. Apparently trusting what he saw, he said, "The shakin' brought the boxes down and I didn't move fast enough." The voice sounded rough like it was overused, another thing someone his age shouldn't have, and it had an accent.

"Want me to take a look at it? I used to be in the Army and they taught me how to treat a lot of different injuries." Jim still didn't move closer, but he did lower his arms to his sides. He felt an urgent need to help, and there was something familiar and special about the boy though Jim couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.

The wary blue eyes stared into Ellison's, as if they were looking into his soul. After a long minute, he nodded. His body relaxed slightly, but a guarded expression stayed on his face.

Moving slowly, Jim shifted a box lying between him and the young man then knelt down. He reached forward but stopped just before touching the arm and waited, looking into the other's face. The kid gave him a short nod and Jim gently felt along the arm, drawing a hiss of pain from the young man when he arrived at the shoulder. The area was hot and the shoulder bulged oddly. "Looks like your shoulder's dislocated."

"Ah, hell," the young man muttered. Taking a deep breath, he looked up and asked, "Did the Army teach ya how t' put a shoulder back in?"

Ellison smiled at the bravado. "Yes, I can do it. It will hurt at first, but it won't be too bad after."

The young man leaned back, closed his eyes and braced his body against the box behind him. "Then git it done now before I change m' mind."

"I know it will be hard, but you need to try and relax your muscles. A good friend of mine taught me a way that can help, but you'll have to open your eyes and look at me." Shifting into a better position, Jim took the injured arm by the wrist and carefully pulled it out and away from the other's body. Positioning his other hand onto the shoulder, he said, "Now take a deep breath in through your nose, hold it for a few seconds then blow it out your mouth slowly. Do it again... in, hold it, and out..." The young man followed the instructions, his eyes locked onto the older man.

After almost a minute of breathing, Jim felt the body relaxing and knew the right moment when to lift the arm further, rotate it and carefully force the shoulder back into the right position. The boy clenched his eyes shut and grunted at the pain the action caused, but that was the only sound he made.

Feeling around the shoulder to make sure there wasn't any serious damage, Jim carefully brought the arm down and tucked it into the boy's body. "How are you doing?" he asked, admiring the strength and courage displayed by the young man.

After a long moment, and several deep, panting breaths, a quiet "Fine" was whispered.

"Think you trust me enough to tell me your name? I can't just call you 'hey you' and something tells me you don't want to be called kid."

The young man opened his eyes and again he stared deep into Jim's eyes, the hint of a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Vin." At the raised eyebrow from the other, he quietly added, "Tanner."

Ellison grinned. "Nice to meet you, Vin Tanner. I'm Jim Ellison. How's the shoulder feel?"

Lifting his arm, Vin rotated it carefully, a wince of pain crossing his face. "Feels lot better than before. Thanks."

"You're welcome. It would probably be a good idea to not move that arm around too much for a while. A sling would help or you could zip your coat up half way and tuck your arm through the front." Ellison knew better than to make any sudden movements that might be misconstrued, but he held his hands forward when he saw the other having trouble getting the zipper started. Tanner didn't hesitate at the offer and almost sighed in relief when his arm was settled comfortably.

"You thirsty?" Jim asked. Receiving a nod, he turned to retrieve the backpack and saw what looked like a coyote sitting a little ways off. The animal was leaning to one side and holding one of its legs off the ground. He gave the leg a couple of licks, looked up at the human with its blue eyes then faded away. Jim's eyes widened slightly, understanding that what he saw had to be a spirit animal. From its appearance, looking rangy and also having an injured limb, the animal had to be the kid's, which meant he was probably a guide since he didn't have the feel of being another sentinel. Now he understood the feelings he'd had toward Vin. They were not the same as what he felt toward Blair, but were along the same line.

Feeling better with what he'd done and why, Ellison opened the backpack and dug out a bottle of water. He first showed that the seal on the bottle was still there, then twisted the cap off. "It's not cold, but at least it's wet."

"That's all tha' matters," Vin replied after taking a couple of swallows. He tried to hand the bottle back, but Jim pushed it back toward him.

"Go ahead and keep it. How long have you been staying here?" Jim asked.

A guarded look returned to Vin's face. He tucked the bottle into a side pocket. "Not long."

"Long enough to know a way down to the lower level?" Jim kept his tone nonchalant. He didn't want to make the young man think he was in trouble. "My partner fell through a trap door in another building and any way down to him was buried when the second floor collapsed."

"Might. What are you guys doin' here?"

Jim easily heard the suspicion in the question and tried not to smile. "We were meeting someone. He wasn't supposed to be in here, since these buildings are locked up. I suspect there are other entrances besides the one he found. Unfortunately, the one we used is blocked."

"And th' guy?"

"The office he was in collapsed."

Vin understood the tone in Jim's voice and nodded absently. "Will others be comin' after ya?"

Ellison sighed. "They won't be missing us for a while, and I think they'll be too busy helping the city after that quake."

"Ya don't have a way t' call fer help?"

"Not unless you know where a telephone is around here."

Vin shifted to get his legs under him to stand. Jim offered his hand and the other took it with only a slight moment of hesitation.

"We have t' go t' the next building, thata way, t' get below. It should take more 'n a little shakin t' close it off." Vin pointed off to his right.

Ellison nodded but tilted his head and shifted his hearing to listen back to the other building. He heard Sandburg talking to himself, a one-sided conversation about nothing in particular. Assured his partner was still okay, he turned back to his companion. Tanner was watching with an expression of suspicion.

"What didja hear?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about my friend. Lead the way so that we can get to him." Ellison helped steady Tanner when he stumbled out away from his hiding place then let go when he felt the young man stiffen. There was something about the youth that made Ellison think about Sandburg. Must be their determination to stand on their own, he mused as he followed the other.

"Do you know any of the others who've been using this area for shelter?" Jim asked.

Vin started walking through the debris. "What makes ya think there others?"

"I heard some of them, or at least I did before the quake."

"You a cop?"

"Would it be a problem if I said yes?"

"No. Just need t' know where I stand."

Blair eyed where the closed overhead door was supposed to be in front of him for what must have been the hundredth time. Jim told him that no more water would flow in, but his imagination kept trying to make him believe it would. He needed to get his attention focusing onto something else.

"Okay, let's see. Think of something else. Uh, Jim had been hearing the earthquake preparing to cut loose at least fifteen minutes before it actually hit and pressure building up a few hours earlier. There are several studies proving how animals also know about them coming before they actually hit. Those rats sure knew something was going to happen. Oh, that's going to go over real big with Jim. Comparing him to animals, much less rats, would not be a good thing. He still gets upset when I bring up information about primitive sentinels. I don't think I'll bring that up to him." Blair snorted and shook his head. "Wish he'd been around back when the big one had hit. I could have definitely used an early warning system to keep me out of the basement storage rooms at Rainier that day. Ugh, bad memory, don't go there. Don't need to relive that time all over again."

Blair shuddered slightly, his gaze turning back toward the large door. "After this, I'm going to start carrying a flashlight in my backpack. My pack!"

Blair quickly searched around the area, but he couldn't see too much and especially not a dark brown satchel. "Damn, I hope Jim has it. I'd hate to lose it now, especially with as much as it has gone through with me over the years. It--"

"Hello?" The faint voice called out, sounding like it was down a long hall.

After a few minutes, a dim light appeared under what must have been a door at the far side of the room, freezing any further words Blair might have said. The light wasn't much, just a thin glow of a line, but it stood out like a floodlight in the dark room.

"Jim?" Blair called softly, knowing his sentinel would easily be able to hear him. Unconsciously, he mentally reached forward to recognize the presence of his friend only to 'meet' someone he didn't know but 'knew'. He gasped fearfully when he recognized the person. He or she was another sentinel; there wasn't anyway Blair could mistake what he felt, but it was also different. The person didn't feel quite like how Alex Barnes had felt when she'd kidnapped him what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Blair stood up and started to step backward. He stumbled slightly due to the bulky size of the packages where he'd been resting and ended up splashing into the water across the floor. It was too dark for him to see exactly where he was at, so he kept moving backward with his hands feeling behind him until he met the cold metal of the overhead door. Hoping to find something he could hide behind, Blair carefully shifted to his right with a shuffling step that didn't create any loud splashing.

Jim, I hope you're tuned into me, man, Blair's mind called out frantically. I need you here, like right now! There's a sentinel down here and I really don't want to go through another Alex situation.

There was a rattling, like a bolt was being shaken to loosen it from its hold. At the same time Blair felt a stack of crates. Unfortunately, they were sitting too close to the side wall for him to squeeze behind, but he was able to press far enough in front of them with his back against the wall so that they blocked his view of the door and hopefully any view of him from the sentinel.

Feeling around the crates, checking their height to see how far he would have to crouch down, Blair's hand brushed a loose piece of wood. It had the shape of a two-by-four, which apparently had been broken and tossed to the side. Struggling to quiet his frantic breathing, Blair held his weapon by both hands raised and ready to strike. He was not going down without a fight.

More rattling came from the door and then it opened, the hinges creating a rusty shriek from the constant moisture of the area and lack of use. A stream of light entered the room. The sound of boot heels striking cement echoed in the room as the individual entered, but they only came in a few feet.

"Hey, buddy, come on out. There's a clear path this way to the outside."

"Yeah, right," Blair murmured sarcastically, then he mentally cursed for saying anything. The man's a sentinel, stupid. He may not have had enough control to hear your breathing, but he sure as hell probably heard you speaking.

The man took a few more steps forward, the last one making a splashing sound as he reached the edge of the water. "I'm not making this up. Let's get out of here and to someplace drier before there's another quake."

Sandburg saw that the faint shadow of the man stretched along the floor. Despite how 'friendly' the man sounded, he stayed where he was and kept silent. An angered 'damn it' was uttered and splashing warned him that the guy was coming after him.

Listening to the other coming closer, Blair raised his weapon higher and swung it in a downward arc as he rushed forward when the front part of the man appeared in his sight. Either the man was expecting the move or he had the fastest reaction time around, but Blair's wrists were captured in a strong grip and he was jerked to the side and off balance. The guy then smashed into him with his body and the two slammed against the warehouse wall.

"Drop it!" the man ordered and smacked Blair's hands against the metal until he did as ordered. Not giving into the pain or willing to give up, Blair continued to struggle.

The man adjusted his grip, leaving his right hand to keep Blair's arms raised and trapped. He then used his left forearm to press against the side of his captive's neck and forcing his face into the metal. "Knock it off, damn it! I'm not going to hurt you unless you force me."

Blair continued to struggle. "Let me go! No matter what you do, I'm not going with you. I won't help you."

"What in the hell you are talking about?"

"I know what you are and I won't guide you. I've already got a sentinel."

The man suddenly released his captive and stepped back quickly.

Sandburg whirled around and pressed his back against the wall. He held a hand out in front toward the other. "Just stay away from me," he gasped, his eyes frantically searching around the room for an escape.

The man raised his arms away from his body and took another step back. "I won't touch you, okay? Just calm down and tell me what you're talking about."

"Y-You're a sentinel, and you want me to go with you to train you to use your senses."

"What kind of drugs are you on? I heard you talking, thought you might have gotten trapped after the earthquake and came down here to free you from this rat trap, help you if you were injured." The man brought his arms down and rested his hands on his hip.

The confusion in the other's voice brought Blair up short. "You don't want me?" he asked in a small voice.

The man snorted in humor. "Sorry to disappoint you, friend, but you definitely don't have the right type of equipment. I don't swing that way."

"Oh... uh." Blair knew he was blushing; his face felt hot. "I didn't... that's not... You came to help me get out of here and that's all?"

"That's all. Now, do you think we can move out of the water and some place a little safer? I'm already wet from the rain outside, my boots are getting wetter and ruined and I don't think being soaked is helping you any either." The man started stepping backward, moving slowly until he was just outside the door.

Following, Blair was able to get a good look at his rescuer. Taller than he was, but not Jim's height, and his blond hair was in what Blair recognized as a military cut. Nobody except people in the military wore their hair that style. His jeans and cowboy boots were both black, and his brown leather jacket had Velcro areas missing whatever patches were normally there.

"My name is Chris Larabee," he said when Blair reached the door, held out his right hand and waited.

Blair looked at the man, down at his hand, then back up at the green eyes, which were studying him just as carefully. Blair couldn't see any hunger in the man's eyes; the memory of Alex's intense gaze had caused a few sleepless nights. Tentatively he reached out and took the hand, feeling an uncomfortable tingle before quickly letting go. He rubbed at the palm as he said, "Blair Sandburg. I'm, uh, sorry about trying to hit you."

A lop-sided grin appeared on Chris' face. "Accepted. You pick up that bruise getting trapped down here?"

Blair lightly touched his face. "Uh, no. I was at the college... ~sigh~ It's complicated and would take a while to explain.

"Then how about explaining to me what you were raving about. Whoa!" Turning quickly, Chris stepped between Blair and the darkness from where they'd come.

Blair stumbled back a few steps at the other's actions. "What?! What do you see?"

"Does that beast belong to you?" Larabee asked, taking a quick look at Sandburg. When he turned back, whatever he saw was now gone. He raised a hand, rubbed his eyes and scanned the area. "Where did it go?"

"What beast? I'm the only one down here... at least I thought I was."

"It was this big, grey or silver dog, looked like a Huskie or something, sitting on that stack... of... crates. What the hell?"

"You were able to see him?" Blair asked incredulously, figuring the sentinel had gotten a glimpse of the spirit animal belonging to him. "Where are you going?"

Chris was walking toward the stack of crates, easily reading the stenciling on different ones. "Meals Ready to Eat, U.S. Army blankets... uniform and boots? What are these doing here?"

"Sitting in storage?" Blair followed the man, but stayed several feet behind him. The sentinel had the ability to see with minimal light. He didn't, and he still wasn't sure about the man himself.

Chris shook his head. "No way. Military supplies like these are too easy to sell on the black market. Especially now. I think I remember... hearing... ow!"

Reaching up and covering his ears, Chris slammed his eyes shut and bent over. Instantly, Blair was at this side.

"High-pitched noise? Like chalk on a blackboard?" At the other's hesitant nod, Blair hesitantly placed his hand on Chris' shoulder. "Breathe through it. You have the ability to control what you hear, but you have to consciously block it out. We're gonna have another--"

Before he could finish his sentence, the shaking started. It wasn't as strong as the last time and both men were able to stay on their feet, though somewhere in the room another crate fell over with a crashing splash. As quickly at it started, the quake was over.

"Ah, what was that?" Chris groaned. He shifted his body and pulled away when he realized Blair was holding onto him. It didn't feel right.

Blair didn't try to reestablish the touch. Not sure how his companion would take what he was about to say, he carefully said, "You were able to hear the earthquake approaching. The sub-harmonics are too high for normal humans to hear, but not for sentinels."

Chris looked up. "You used that word before."

"Yeah, uh, it's what... you are. ~sigh~ How do I explain this?" Blair mumbled the last, running his hand through his hair to move it back from his face. He hadn't said it very loud, but the man definitely heard him.

"In great detail," Chris answered, knowing the question hadn't really been directed at him, then starting to move to the entrance. "But first, let's get to someplace safer and drier."

"You've been trying to take care of the others. Right?" Jim asked, as he led the way through the darkened warehouse. He had increased his hearing to listen for any possible danger of falling crates and was able to hear the young man's heartbeat. It was slightly elevated, probably because of the quake and the resulting injury, but he would be able to tell if the kid was lying to him. He also felt a prickling along his spine, which was making him feel edgy and bristly. He hadn't felt this way in a while and he still wasn't able to remember why he knew that.

"Someone has to. I'm not the oldest, but..."

"You have the most experience in survival."

Vin looked back at the older man and gave him a small grin. "Yep."

"Not from around here are you, at least originally?"

"Nope."

"Texas?"

"Once."

Jim smiled to himself. Unlike his partner, this one was not a talker, but he was aware of everything happening around him. His manner showed he'd been on his own for a while and was able to take care of himself.

"Hell," Vin muttered and stopped.

Ellison didn't have to ask what was the matter. He could see a jumbled mess of smashed crates and that a portion of the second floor against the wall had collapsed. Focusing his sight, he was able to see what made up the mess. "Damn. The crates were holding machine parts and stuff that would take too much time to move. Do you know of another way down?"

Tanner looked at the pile, at his companion then back at the pile. With as dark as the building had become, he was lucky he could see his hand in front of his face. He decided to hold his piece on this information. "Only one. I haven't been here too long; just a couple a weeks. I've used it once comin' in from th' outside, but th' locks got changed."

"Changed? Were the old ones broke?"

"Nope. Bunch'a guys with guns showed up in big trucks a week or two ago. We hid from 'em best we could. When they'd left, new locks." Vin absently shrugged his shoulders and winced slightly.

"The crates of military supplies."

"Huh?"

"Stuff like what you're wearing." Jim gestured over his shoulder. "We found crates in the lower storage areas. Blair had landed on a pile of uniforms that fell out of a busted one. The military doesn't normally store their supplies in wharfs unless they're going to be shipped right out."

"I found this coat a lyin' down below. And there ain't been no boats here fer a while." Vin declared. "The quake, th' big one stopped 'em all, didn't it?"

Ellison nodded. "At least for a while. I've heard it will be another year or so before the big freighters can get converted over to an alternate power." He moved closer to the debris covering the entrance to the lower level. "Well, staring at it isn't going to move it. Take a seat over there, Vin, and... let..."

Tanner watched as the older man's face went still and his eyes got a vacant look. "You okay?" he asked.

"Blair," Jim whispered. A surge of fear came through the connection and he knew something or someone was threatening his Guide. Shaking himself back to awareness, he turned quickly to look back toward the other building and where he'd left his friend. Taking a few steps in that direction, Jim stopped and looked again at the pile over the entrance. "Damn it!"

"What's th' matter?" Vin asked, moving closer. He could almost feel the agitation coming from the man.

Not answering, Jim started pulling at the debris. His jaw was clenched and he was muttering low as he heaved pieces of crates off the pile. After what felt like an hour, but was probably only 10 minutes or so, a hand caught his arm and brought his attention back to his surroundings. He looked over to see a pair of pale blue eyes staring with concern up at him.

"Hey, yer gonna bring more down on us."

"I've got to get to my friend. He's in trouble." Jim started pulling at some boards then jumped back when his action caused a mini avalanche. It took a little while for the movement to quit and the dust to settle.

"You gettin' hurt ain't gonna help." Vin had unconsciously dropped his voice down to a soothing range and Jim paused to listen to it. "Let's go 'round to th' back side. The stairs had a cover and it might have stopped some of th' boxes." Without waiting to see if the other was going to follow, Vin started weaving his way around and over the jumbled mess of crates and debris using his hands to feel this way.

Ellison watched the young man move away and turned to look once more in the direction he'd left Sandburg. Reaching within himself, he 'felt' for his friend and found that he was no longer in a panic. There was still a feeling of fear coming through the connection, but it wasn't at the level he'd first felt. Sandburg was either able to control himself or the situation was no longer that threatening to his Guide.

Hesitating for only a few seconds more to send what he hoped was the comforting feeling through the connection to Blair that he was coming, Jim followed Vin. He caught up with him just as the other had reached what looked like a large piece of particleboard that was once the floor above blocking the way to the stairwell. The light from an emergency security light down in the stairwell glowed from around the edges.

"I think this is th' only thing in our way."

Ellison waited until Tanner moved out of the way then stepped forward to study the obstruction. A big smile appeared on his face after he leaned around to see if there was anything on the backside. "Step back a bit," he cautioned and moved a couple of paces back. Then, with an angry shout, Ellison lifted his right leg and kicked the board. There was a loud cracking sound when his boot shattered a large area in the center. Leaning back, he struck again, only this time hitting the area below the first. He gave a third kick and the board broke into several pieces.

Tanner stepped forward, first looking at the destroy particleboard then at Ellison. "Make ya feel any better?" he asked, the corners of his mouth curving slightly upwards.

Jim took in a deep breath and blew it out forcefully. "Yeah, it did," he replied with a satisfied grin.

The two moved to the metal railing that had been behind the particleboard. It surrounded the stairwell. Both leaned over the railing together and saw that the area at the bottom of the staircase only had a small amount of debris, but the stairs were inaccessible. The only way to the door at the bottom was over the rail in front of them.

"You wait up here, kid. I'll be back for you after I find my friend," Ellison said as he slipped his arms through the straps of the backpack and settled it comfortably on his back.

"No. I'm coming with ya." Vin carefully pulled his hand from the inside of his coat, zipped it up the rest of the way then pulled a pair of gloves out of the pockets.

"Listen, kid--"

"The name's Tanner, not kid, and I'm goin'. I know th' way around down there, you don't." With his gloves on, he stepped up to the rail and rotated his injured shoulder to loosen it up. The biting pain of the movement had him gritting his teeth to stop the groan.

"Wait a minute, Hotshot." Ellison grabbed Tanner's uninjured arm and started to pull him back, but the other yanked away from the hold. "You could do more damage to that shoulder if you're not careful."

Vin glared at the older man. "Then I guess I need help."

The two men stared at each other for several long seconds before Ellison gave an exasperated sigh and closed his eyes briefly. "You're just like him," he muttered and started climbing over the railing. "Let me get down first and then I'll help you down. Try not to put too much pull on that shoulder."

Tanner didn't gloat over his victory, but he did smile briefly after the older man climbed over the rail to hang down and finally drop to the floor. Once Ellison was down, he copied the man's movements and was soon beside him.

"You all right?" Ellison asked. He could hear the other's elevated heart rate and see a small amount of sweat beginning to bead up on his brow.

Vin rubbed his shoulder as said, "I'll live. Door isn't locked, but it can be a stubborn one t' open."

With a small chuckle, Jim helped his companion to climb the debris-covered stairs and out of the way. He felt around the door then crinkled his nose after taking a sniff of the air. "I can feel air coming through the cracks, so it didn't get sealed."

"Didja smell anything?"

Ellison gave the other a quick glance and carefully answered, "I was checking to see if there was a gas leak. I can smell some burnt oil, but that's all." Then he grabbed the door handle, shifted it down and tugged. The door only moved slightly. Using his sight, he looked carefully around the edges of the door. He could see where the door was warped slightly, but not to a point that would prevent the door from being opened. He was preparing to try again when he felt a change in the pressure of the air and started to hear a familiar high-pitched, screeching sound.

"Get down here!" Jim yelled as he covered his ears, scrunched back into a corner and crouched down. Vin was quickly at his side just as the vibrations started, covering him with his arms and tucking his head.

The debris on the stairs rattled and slid closer toward the bottom. Other bits of crating and debris rained down from above, covering both men with dust and plaster. Almost as soon as it started, the quake was over. The two men slowly stood up and started brushing themselves down, each coughing lightly.

Tanner eyed the other man before saying, "You knew it was comin' before it hit."

~cough~ "Yeah, well..."

"And you could see across the room even tho' it's pretty dark."

Ellison didn't answer.

"Those other guys ain't been here for a week or more and we ain't been burnin' anything, but you can smell oil." Tanner paused, his mind searching for the information. Finally remembering, he whispered, "You're one of those special people."

"Special people?" Jim asked cautiously as he returned his attention to the door and started yanking at the handle. It moved a quarter of an inch. He glanced over to his companion.

Vin sat down on some rubbish covering a step and stared down at his hands. "I... I remember bein' told a story at the orphanage, b'fore I was sent to m' first foster home. An old man livin' nearby told it, and he had this book with a picture of... some kinda warrior. No, he called it a guardian. He told how there use t' be these 'guardians' who could see for miles, smell things like a bloodhound and hear a mouse fart down a hole ten feet away." Vin smiled at the memory. "I always thought it'd be great ta meet one, maybe work with one. I was the only one he told th' story to." The last was said quietly.

Ellison stopped working on the door and turned to look at his companion. The young man had looked up and was now staring at him, curiosity in his eyes. Knowing he needed to be careful with what he was going to say, he slowly crouched down until his face was even with Tanner's. "He was right. There are people like that, like me. We're called sentinels and we have these... special abilities of enhanced senses in order help others, to protect the people in our... territory."

A genuine smile appeared on Vin's face. "He was right? Yer one of them? What about yer friend? Is he one, too?"

Jim shook his head and smiled back. "No, he has a more important job. He takes care of a sentinel, me. He's called a guide and he helps me use my senses. He's my partner and my friend."

"Were ya raised together? T' be partners?"

The question had a wistful sound. Jim could only guess how lonely Vin's life must have been up to now, being raised in orphanages and foster homes. Like Blair, he was probably another who had learned to grow up fast.

"No, we weren't, and we only found each other not too long ago. Then we had to get used to working together and having someone to depend on, but we're... uh... we figured out that we are meant to be partners." Jim wasn't too comfortable talking about their connection and things like fate to anyone but his partner, and others who knew about the two of them had a hard time understanding. However, knowing he had an emerging guide in front of him, he knew he had to be careful with his explanation. Where's Sandburg when you need him? He's so much better talking about this stuff.

"Knew there was somethin' different 'bout ya when ya showed up," Vin murmured softly, once again staring back down at his hands.

"Guides can usually sense a sentinel when they meet one," Jim voiced carefully, watching the younger man's reaction. He didn't have to wait long.

Vin's head jerked up sharply. "What?"

"I said, guides can usually--"

"I heard that. I meant what are ya talkin' about? Ya mean me?"

Ellison gazed calmly at the young man, noting the surprise on Vin's face was offset by an acceptance in his eyes. "I believe... that you are... probably a guide" He wasn't going to tell Tanner about seeing the coyote, but he knew he'd have to be told about good and bad sentinels and the need to be careful as soon as possible. "Look, I'm not very good at explaining things like this, so I'm going to leave it for my partner. I'm sure Sandburg will be very happy to talk to you about everything. Okay?"

Again, the two men locked gazes until Vin nodded. "'Kay."

"Great. Now let's see if I can get this door open so that we can find my partner."

With a couple of mighty yanks, Jim finally got the door open. He paused at the entrance as the prickly sensation he'd felt earlier became stronger. Whatever was causing it was down in the lower levels. He unconsciously felt for his gun tucked in the holster at his back. Jim hoped it wouldn't be needed, but he knew it always paid to be prepared.

"So what you're saying is I'm not going crazy. Its perfectly normal for me being able to see things that are too far away for others to see and hearing people talking on another floor." Chris rubbed his hands over his eyes before looking at his companion nodding emphatically.

Now that he didn't feel threatened, Blair dropped into the 'teacher mode' he usually adopted when he had to explain things to Jim or the detectives at Major Crime. "Right, as well as being able to experience odors and flavors at an increased level and finding that your clothes cause rashes or hives. Sentinels have a genetic advantage of heightened senses, which you've probably had since birth, but which stayed dormant until you were old enough to handle them or were in a situation where they were needed."

A feeling of relief flowed through Chris. "Friend, you don't know how much hearing this helps. So are hallucinations also part of the package?" At Blair's confused look, he explained, "There was the big dog I thought I saw in the other room and lately I thought I've seen a cougar a couple of times. But each time I look harder, nothing is there."

"How... open are you to the idea of... visions and spirit animals?" Blair asked cautiously.

Chris closed his eyes and groaned. "You're kidding."

"Sorry, but it does come with the sentinel package. So says everything I've read and learned as well as what I've observed. What you saw in the other room was my spirit animal, a silver wolf. I've only seen him once, but my partner has had a few encounters with him as well as his own. The cougar must be your spirit animal. Uh, by any chance, have you seen a black jaguar kind of wandering around acting a little threatening to you?"

"Where, here? No, don't answer that. I've got a feeling you have a very long lecture you could launch into and we don't have the time right now. Why is this happening now? I've never had anything like this until a couple of months ago."

"You're in the military, right? Or at least spent some time there?"

Chris looked surprised.

Blair smiled. "I mean, the hair is a dead giveaway and your whole manner just screams authority. Did you have any time before you started experiencing the difference in your senses where you spent an extended amount of time in isolation?"

"Yeah, but it's still considered a classified operation. I'm still in the Navy but on medical leave until my discharge is completed. My 'problems' became too severe for me to function properly in my current field, or any other. I've been considering taking a job offer from a friend in Denver. But now that there is a reason for my condition, maybe I can work with the doctors--"

"Whoa, hold on," Blair interrupted, holding a hand up. "Doctors can't help you because your 'problems' are completely natural and, before you ask, no, you can't just make them go back to being dormant. What you need to do is learn to control them. Every sentinel has a partner to help them do just that, use their senses and keep them from going into a zone-out."

"Zone-out?"

"Oh, yeah. Zoning out is when you concentrate on only one sense to the point of shutting everything else out. You slide into a fugue state. It can be very dangerous if you don't have a guide to stop it from coming on or pull you out if you have already zoned. Not a fun thing, man." Blair shuddered dramatically.

"And you're one of those, uh, guides? Someone who helps sentinels, right?" Chris saw the animation fade and fear appear on Blair's face. The younger man stiffened and looked like he was going to take off. "Wait a minute. I'm only asking the question because of what you said after you tried to attack me with that board."

Blair reached up to tuck a piece of his hair behind an ear and saw that his hand was shaking. He quickly dropped it to his lap and clasped his hands together. "Uh... yeah, but I'm already partnered with a sentinel and he's on the main floor trying to find a way down here so we can get out of here." He said the last in a rush, which brought another lop-sided grin from his companion.

"I was being pulled to this place for some reason, but I don't think it was for you," Chris assured Blair. "No offense, but I don't think we could make it as partners. It... well, I don't feel exactly comfortable."

"You don't? That means your guide must be around here somewhere." Blair released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Good. That's a good thing, 'cause I'm not ready to leave Cascade and I don't think Jim would be too happy about having to kill another person because of me."

Chris raised his eyebrow at the last part and Blair dropped his head, his eyes becoming vacant as he remembered.

"Another very long story, which you said we don't have time for, and I'm not very comfortable talking about it. You'll have to ask Jim if--"

"Quiet!" Chris hissed and cocked his head in a listening pose Blair knew very well. "There are trucks pulling up to the building, several big ones."

"Rescuers?"

Chris winched at something he heard and rubbed his ear. When he felt a hand on his arm, he started to yank it away until he realized it was Blair.

"I'm not your guide, but I can try to help you. Okay? First, don't lose the feeling of my hand on your arm. It'll help ground you. Now relax and stretch your hearing to whatever is going on outside. No, don't close your eyes. Having other things to keep you from focusing too much on your hearing is good," Blair said in a low, calm voice, ignoring the odd feeling in the hand touching the other.

It was a little bit of a struggle, since he wasn't too confident about what Blair had told him, but eventually Chris was able to hear voices and the sound of booted feet. He heard one particularly authoritative voice shouting orders.

"Damn!" Chris cursed and stood up, grabbed hold of Blair and started dragging him down the passage. "They're coming for the military supplies stored here and they're using the way I used to get down here. I think I also heard guns being loaded."

"You don't think they are really from the Army?" Blair asked.

"If the military was using this place as storage, there would have been security guards in the area," Chris replied as he stopped to test a door along the passage. "Whoever put this stuff here probably figures it's not safe to keep it here anymore."

"And they wouldn't want anyone to know they were here, right? Ah, man," Blair moaned as Chris nodded in agreement.

Outside the Warehouses

Four large camouflaged trucks, driving with only their parking lights, pulled up in a line in front of the dark warehouse and stopped. Their brakes shrieked in protest. Two men stepped out of the first two trucks and walked around to the front. Both were wearing camouflage military uniforms and one was carrying a large flashlight. The man switched on the device and shined the beam across the wall of the building.

"It looks like the buildings took some damage, Commander Kincaid. We'll probably have to use the side doors, and that will slow us down getting our supplies."

"You know what to do, Walters," Kincaid growled as he surveyed the area. "I want the crates loaded and be on the road out of the city before sunrise."

"Yes, sir!" Walters snapped to attention and saluted. When it was returned, he turned sharply and strode to the back of the nearest truck. It was loaded with more men dressed in BDU's. "Beckman, Johnson, Carnes! Set up perimeter surveillance. I want to know about anything that even looks suspicious. Stealth communications." Three men holding rifles with night scopes attached jumped down out of the truck and trotted away from the area in three different directions. They each pulled down a pair of night vision goggles over their eyes, then adjusted their radios which were set up with ear jacks and voice activated mics.

"Turner, take your people to the side entrance and get down to the bays. I want an accountability of all the crates using these lists," Walters ordered another man, handing him the clipboard as soon as he'd jumped out of the truck. "Abbott, take someone from your team and check out the dock side of the building. If we can't use that way, join Turner and set up an efficient way to move the stuff quickly. The Commander wants us in and out of here fast, and you know how he is about any lollygagging. Now move it, gentlemen!" Orders given, he then left to rejoin Kincaid.

The remaining men, ten in all, poured out of the back of the truck. Abbott and another man took off at a run toward the side of the building, each pulling a flashlight and a pair of work gloves from the large pockets of their pants. The rest of the men waited quietly as Turner handed out pages from the clipboard to several different men. Then, without waiting for an order, the group formed into three columns and followed Turner toward the building.

As soon as all the men were out of the way, the drivers started the engines back up and began moving the trucks into position for loading.

Moving around the lower level to get back toward where he'd left Blair turned out to be harder than it had been up on the main level, Ellison found. There weren't any hallways in the area he and Tanner were trying to travel, at least any they'd been able to find. Just different sized rooms. Some were dead ends, with only one door to get in and out and many had padlocks. Light sources were few and far between. Ellison, as a sentinel, could see perfectly well in dim light, but he did need at least a small amount of light and was struggling to see as little as five feet in front of the two of them.

"Sorry," Vin apologized quietly as he bumped into Jim's back for the fourth time.

"Don't worry about it," Ellison answered, checking a door. "How long has this place been without lighting? I can't understand how any security personnel would be able to check this area."

"They don't come down here."

"What?"

Tanner shrugged. "I've never seen them down here, only up above. I think they're afraid of what they might find." A small smile appeared on his face.

Ellison answered the smile with one of his own. "Which means you all have been pretty safe staying around here as long as you only use the lower level."

"Yep."

"It doesn't look like you use this side."

"Nope."

Jim sighed. Getting any information out of his companion had been a struggle, especially anything about anyone else who might be using the warehouses. So different from Blair. He was about to ask another question when his hearing picked up sounds he hadn't been expecting.

"Ya hear something?" Vin asked. He could barely see, but Jim was close enough for him to recognize the man's stance. "Yer friend?"

Ellison held up his left hand to stop any further questions. His right hand was traveling behind his back to grasp and pull out his revolver. "There are some people moving around in the rooms ahead of us," he whispered and focused to hear better.

"...water is about a foot or two over the edge of the dock, so we're going to have to move the crates by hand trucks and by hand. But I've some other bad news, Commander. We've found one room that had some broken crates."

"So? The quake was pretty strong."

"Yes, sir. I agree, except for the fact that the door to the room was open as well as the overhead trap door. I'm positive they were secured before we left last time."

"Any evidence that it was recent?"

"Possibly, sir."

"Find those intruders who dare to try and steal from me, Walters. I don't want anyone left to tell we've been here. Do I make myself clear?"

"I'll take care of it, sir. Abbott!"

"Sounds like the people who stored all those military supplies have come back to get their stuff. They know there are others around here." Ellison reached out with his left hand to grab Tanner's jacket to pull him closer but only found air. "Hey! Where are you going?" he asked, seeing the other feeling his way back in the direction of the stairwell.

"They ain't gonna want anyone to know they'd been here, jist like th' last time. I gotta warn th' others."

"No! It's not safe to wander around here anymore. We need to stay together." Jim understood Vin's reasoning and knew he should be as concerned about the safety of anyone using the warehouses as shelter. His duty as a cop was to protect the innocent, even though his own partner might be in danger. However, he felt the slight need to keep the young man safe, and the stronger pull to find and keep Blair safe.

Tanner stopped and turned toward Ellison, his chin raised in defiance. "Been doing okay on my own up t' now, and I know how t' keep myself safe. Go find yer friend. I'll be back after I git the others t' safe places."

Jim turned just to glance in the direction he'd heard the voices. When he looked back, Vin was gone. "Damn it! Knew I should've handcuffed that kid to the stair railing when I had the chance."

Knowing it would be impossible to catch Vin, and that it would be a battle to try and keep him by his side, Jim returned his attention to the direction of the voices. They all seemed to be clustered in one area; the sounds of crates being picked up or slid onto hand trucks were the loudest. Then he heard the man called Walters order three men to start searching for any intruders and eliminate them. Jim immediately felt for Blair through their bond.

He was safe, and the fear was back and easily felt, though it wasn't as intense as the last time. Through the bond Jim could tell Blair was to the left of the searchers, though he couldn't hear him, and was trying to move in his direction. Not caring about damage anymore, Jim kicked open a locked door he'd checked a little while ago and started looking for a way to get to where Blair was.

"They found that room you were in," Chris told Blair when the two paused in an area the sentinel had declared as safe for now to listen for the intruders.

"Kinda upset about the damage?" Blair asked, his eyes searching around the dim light.

"Not as bad as kicking a hornet's nest, but because others know about their using this place the order's gone out to not leave any witnesses."

"Oh, man. That is not good. I wish Jim was here." The last was said quietly, but it was still loud enough for Chris to hear.

Chris patted the younger man's shoulder. "I do to, my friend. Any idea how far he had to go to find a way down to this level or if he might have gone to get some help?"

Sandburg shook his head. "He wouldn't have left without letting me know, and... I can... tell he's not too far away."

"You can tell? Are you saying that you're psychic?"

"Oh, no. That would be just too weird after everything else, though I don't know if it eventually comes with the package. It all wasn't explained very well to me and I was told some things might come along later."

"You know what? I don't think I really want to understand what you were just saying. Can all you... guides do strange things?"

Blair shrugged a shoulder. "Don't know. I've only met... uh, now, two other sentinels besides Jim, but I don't think I've met any guides. I just know that Jim and I are sort of connected and we can find each other if we need to. Give me a minute."

It wasn't something he did consciously too often, using the bond between them to find his partner, but Blair knew it would be there when he looked for it. And it was, filling his being with the satisfaction of knowing Jim wasn't too far away. When he connected, the warm safe feeling of Jim on the other end filled his soul and took away some of the fear he'd been carrying. He passed to his sentinel that he was okay and immediately received the feeling back.

Opening his eyes, Blair saw that Chris had his hands on his hips and was staring at him. Giving him a confident smile, he said, "He's down here and not too far away. He's in that direction." Blair pointed.

Automatically, Chris looked in that direction to only see a wall with two doors on either end. As he looked, the faint outline of a large, brown cat appeared and was sniffing at the door on the left. The animal then sat down by that door and looked at him before fading away. Chris inhaled sharply and rubbed his eyes.

"Uh, I take it you saw one of the animals again?" Blair asked.

"Cougar. It was checking out the door on the left, then looked at me and disappeared." Larabee walked slowly to the door and waved his hand through the area he'd last saw the animal.

"I know it seems weird, man, but trust that it is showing you the way you should go. How does it sound behind us? Are they getting close?" Blair tested the door knob and it was unlocked.

Chris turned his attention to behind them and listened. "They're on the move. Three of them have been sent out to do a search. We gotta go." He pushed Blair through the door and shut it behind them.

The only light in the room was from exit signs, one over the door they'd just used and another on the far side of the room over another door. However, there were also doors on the two remaining walls. Larabee could easily see in the dim light that the room must have once been some type of break room. Chairs were stacked against the wall, though a few were scattered across the floor, all but one table was folded up against a wall to the right and there were two empty vending machines against the walls nearest the door with the other sign.

Grabbing a chair off the stack nearest to him, he jammed it against the door. "May not hold them long, but any delay is good."

"What direction?" Blair asked, squinting to try and see in the darkness.

Chris looked at the three remaining doors carefully. "I have no idea. Where's that animal when you need it?"

"It's a cat. You expect it to act like Lassie? Felines have their own set of rules, believe me."

Larabee scratched his head. "Okay, you check out the one under the sign across the room and I'll take the one on the left wall." He watched as Sandburg started walking forward before saying, "Just be careful of the--"

He was interrupted by the sound of Blair crashing into a pair of chairs, stumbling over them to land on the side of the only table still standing, which then fell over and dumped the smaller man onto the floor. Chris hurried over to check Blair out. He could hear the other swearing under his breath.

"Damn, damn, damn! Not the knee again. Not now," Blair moaned, clutching the injured limb. He'd been lucky after falling through the trap door, but it was obvious his luck had run out. Blair tried to resist efforts from the other to check the injury.

"Let me see it," Larabee said firmly and finally pulled Sandburg's hands away from his right leg. "Medical training was mandatory in my field of service."

"Great," Blair groaned, then hissed when the hands touched a tender place on his leg. "Another sentinel with military medical training."

Chris was able to feel heat from the bruises forming at the impact point and the beginning of swelling around the knee. "Can't take doctors into the field, kid. They could never make it past the training required of SEALS." He was surprised at what he could feel, especially through Blair's jeans.

"Gee, must be a prerequisite. Aren't any sentinels just simply in the military?"

"Been pushing the edge all my life," Chris said with a smirk. "I can't feel that anything is broken, but it is starting to swell. Did you damage this leg before?"

Blair nodded. "Last year. Ah, man. I don't want to go through therapy again." A feeling of concern, and a little irritation, came through the bond and Blair knew Jim had felt what he did. He concentrated and was able to send back reassurance that it wasn't serious. The irritation faded, but the concern stayed. Blair pushed the awareness of the connection off to the side, knowing that Jim would continue to be concerned about him and now wasn't the time to get into an argument, especially a mental one.

"Let's get you on you feet and see if you can walk. I don't think it's too bad." Standing up, Larabee moved around until he was behind Sandburg and bent down to grasp him under his arms. "Don't put any weight on it until you're all the way up."

Nodding, Blair allowed the other to help him get his good leg under his body and stand up. He set the foot of his other leg down and carefully put weight on it. There was a dull, aching pain around his knee, but he didn't feel like it was going to collapse on him. He took a step and winced when the pain flared up sharply. "It's not bad, but I don't think I'm going to be moving too fast unless I rest it for a while. You better go ahead."

"Ah, hell," Chris muttered and searched around the room. "I can't leave you behind. Those men are not going to take prisoners. I'll find something to brace your leg and you can lean on me."

Blair grabbed the man by the arm and swung him around until they faced each other. "Chris, listen to me. I know you feel like you have to take care of me. It's your sentinel imperative to protect a guide, but all I'm going to do is slow you down and get us both killed." Blair stared into the green eyes, seeing the anguish at having to accept what he was saying. "Help me find a hiding place, then you get moving and find Jim. The two of you together will be more than enough to stop these guys. Okay? Okay!?" He gave the taller man a little shake.

Larabee knew Sandburg was telling him the truth, but he didn't want to accept it. It wasn't just the sentinel in him telling him it was wrong, the idea went against all of his military training. You just didn't leave your people behind. " Blair... ah... ~sigh~ you're right; I know it. But I can't just--"

"Yes, you can, after you make sure I'm in a safe hiding place."

Chris saw the determination on Blair's face and finally nodded. "Okay. Let's go over here."

Chris helped Blair limp over to the vending machines then carefully looked them over. With only a little struggle, he shifted them out away from the wall a few inches. "You're not very big, so you won't have a problem squeezing behind these. Just keep your weight off the bad leg and be very quiet. I'll leave enough evidence for them to follow me without staying to search this room."

"Thanks, man. And don't worry about me. Just go find Jim."

"Any chance your... friend might be armed?"

"His name is Jim Ellison and he's with the Cascade PD. He's got his revolver, a backup, and if he still has my backpack, he'll have my weapon. Hey, I can use that." Seeing the four foot long handle of a push broom missing its head, Blair grabbed it before carefully shifting sideways until he was hidden behind the vending machine closest to the corner. The broom handle helped take a little weight off his leg. "And before you ask and waste more time, no, I'm not a cop. I'm a profiler for the Major Crime division. As Jim's partner, I am required to carry a gun... whether I want it or not."

Larabee nodded, stepped back and looked carefully. "Perfect. Stay quiet, kid. I will be back before you know it." Pausing just long enough to convince himself he was doing the right thing, Chris walked over and tried the handle of the door under the lit exit sign. It was also unlocked.

When he opened the door, he saw the cougar sitting and waiting for him. The animal stood up as soon as he stepped through the door and started stalking across the room. "I wonder if you can lead me to this Ellison guy, cat?" Chris murmured. As if he heard the man, the cougar paused, turned to face him and gave a low growl before starting forward again.

"Guess you can." Leaving the door open behind him, Chris started following the animal. Digging into the pockets of his jacket, he pulled out his gloves and tossed one back at the entrance. It landed just onto his side of the door, to be easily seen by whoever came near the door.

Ellison smiled when he felt Sandburg reaching to him through the bond. "About time, Chief," he murmured. "I'm coming for you, just stay safe," he said and assured his friend through the bond. The feeling of assurance received back that the message had been received gave Ellison no small comfort and, tucking the connection to the side where he could still monitor it, he started moving forward, only to pause again when he felt an ache appear in his right leg around his knee. Since he knew he hadn't knocked into anything, there could only be one reason for it to appear.

"Damn it, Sandburg. What did you do to yourself now?" His irritation must have easily flowed to his partner, because he immediately 'received' a reply that basically told him 'I'm fine'. He then knew that Blair wasn't concentrating on the bond when the intensity diminished. I'm still going to be watching you, Chief, Jim sent back then returned his attention to the task ahead of him.

Listening carefully, he heard the three men searching the facility decide to split up. Good, division of resources, Jim mused and started forward in the direction that would intercept one of the men.

When he knew he was close to the man, Ellison pressed back into the shadows and waited. He watched as a young man moved cautiously forward, but he could tell the other was having a hard time seeing anything more than a couple of feet from his face. The soldier didn't even glance at the dark corner as he passed it, which was the last mistake he made as Ellison slid up from the behind and gave him a sharp tap to the back of his head with his revolver.

Sandburg knew Larabee wasn't very near anymore; the older man must have moved quickly and quietly. The uncomfortable feeling he'd had of a sentinel not his own had also faded, but his nerves were still zinging uncomfortably as he listened for the searchers.

"Need to calm down and hope those idiots just pass right by," he murmured softly. Blair knew hearing his own voice in the heavy silence would help keep the panic away. He also felt asking for a little assistance at this time wouldn't hurt, either. "Lord, if you help me get out of this, I promise I'm gonna quit being such a pain in Jim's butt and work on being a better partner and guide... even study more about that shaman stuff. Okay? Just let me get--" The knob of the door across the room which Chris had jammed shut rattled, freezing the words in Blair's throat.

Something large slammed against the door once... twice... the third time knocked the chair from under the knob and into the middle of the room as the door opened violently. Blair heard the heavy breathing of the man as he entered the room and saw a bright light arc around until it was finally pointed toward the other door sitting wide open. Then it moved again until it was pointing at the machines.

Listening as the soldier walked over to the machines and flashed his light over them, Blair heard him mutter, "Empty, damn it." The man sounded tired and a bit frustrated at what he was having to do, which is why Blair figured the soldier decided to take his anger and frustration out on the machines. He heard the man take a step back and kick the glass front of the machine closest to the door. It shattered easily under the assault.

Sandburg had been listening to the man move around, but he'd also been concentrating very hard on being as quiet as possible. He easily felt the malevolent emotions coming from the man, and the hatred emanating from the man almost made him sick. It also triggered something deep within that seemed to flow through him when the first machine was smashed. Knowing the man was going to do something at least equally violent to the machine he was behind, Sandburg closed his eyes, pulled the strength from within, and waited until the right moment, then pushed... hard.

The soldier was in front of the second machine and apparently ready to do some damage to it when the thing fell forward toward him. He didn't have time to utter a sound as his head made first contact with the glass, knocking him out, then the rest of the machine followed him down to the ground. His flashlight flew to the side and went out as it crashed onto the floor, causing the room to darken.

He didn't know if it was the deafening silence after the noisy collapse of the machine or the sudden disappearance of emotions that caused Blair to open his eyes and look around the once-again dimly lit room. He was now standing out in the open, the vending machine lying at an angle at his feet. Gingerly, he limped around until he was near the top and able to see the top of the soldier's head and an arm lying at an odd angle from the body. Taking his makeshift cane, Blair pushed against the man's arm and was rewarded with a slight moan.

Knowing he didn't want to carry the heavy gun, he also knew he should not leave the loaded weapon. Picking up the military rifle, he gingerly pulled the magazine from its holding slot, ejected all of the bullets into his hand then tossed them across the room. The metallic sound of them spreading across the floor gave him a small amount of pleasure. Then remembering the training from the police firearms instructor, Blair ejected the last bullet from the weapon's chamber and threw it to join the rest. He tucked the magazine into a pocket of his jacket and gave it a pat.

"That's what you get for attacking a defenseless machine, man," Sandburg said softly then moved toward the doorway. Listening, he couldn't hear anyone else nearby. Remembering the emotions he'd felt coming from the man, he closed his eyes and 'felt' around the area. Again, nothing except for the 'feel' of Larabee moving away and the distant but approaching presence of his partner. Without hesitation, the Guide headed toward his Sentinel. The two sentinels would probably intercept each other before Sandburg could get there and he could only hope each would realize that the other wasn't a threat.

Chris Larabee was confused. He hadn't felt comfortable leaving Sandburg, obviously injured, alone in a room in the path of searchers. He wanted to go back after each room he went through, but there was also that pulling feeling growing stronger and something else coming nearer that was making the hair on the back of his neck raise up. Rubbing his neck, he moved forward to another door. It was in the direction of the pulling, but who or whatever was giving him the unsettled feeling was also in the same direction. Cautiously he opened the door and peered around the edge only to see a tall man on the other side of the room pointing a gun in his direction. He froze then decided to take a chance and stepped into the doorway.

"Your name Ellison?" he asked in a loud whisper. The other nodded once, so Larabee decided to risk saying, "Blair Sandburg said you were his partner and something called a sentinel. Same as me."

Ellison had heard the other in the next room and watched as a cougar walked through the closed door then sat to the side of it. His own black jaguar moved out of the shadows, stalked over to the other large cat and stopped at least a couple of feet away. It stretched its head forward to sniff at the cougar and apparently caught a scent that bothered it. The jaguar laid its ears back and growled. The cougar apparently understood that the other wasn't happy and lowered its body down until it was stretched out in a less threatening posture. Then the door opened and Ellison raised his gun.

He waited as the other man leaned around the edge of the door frame, noticing immediately that he wasn't armed. Then the other stepped into the opening and asked his name. Jim nodded, but he didn't relax his stance. He was able to catch the scent of alcohol from the other and Blair's scent also seemed to be mixed in with it. This