Disclaimer: They are not mine. They still belong to Pet Fly, Paramount and Sci-fi. But when I win the lottery, I have high hopes.

Thanks to Zerena and Shallan for editing for me. Also thanks to Izzy who helped with the first couple of sections. Any remaining errors are mine.

Email: Trishbsc@aol.com

ROYAL ORDER

Trishbsc

May 1, 2000
12:00 PM, Bullpen

The storm-warning alert had been announced. Simon was on his way back from a meeting with the Mayor and the Commissioner. Rhonda and Kathryn, the Mayor's secretary, were good friends and frequently lunched together. Kathryn had called in the warning after seeing Captain Banks's face upon leaving the office.

Most members of the Major Crime Unit quickly found things to do elsewhere in the building. Jim and Blair had the misfortune of not being in the bullpen when the warning had been announced and were just sitting down at their respective desks when Simon entered the bullpen behind them.

"Ellison! Sandburg! My office," Simon bellowed, as he stalked across the bullpen. In a much politer tone he continued, "Rhonda, would you please track down the rest of the squad from wherever they're hiding and tell them to be in my office in five minutes or they'll find themselves on street patrol for the next two weeks."

The two detectives, exchanging worried glances, followed their captain into his office. Jim stood stiffly in front of the desk. Blair was slightly behind him, on the right side, leaning against the table.

"Is there a problem, sir?" Blair asked respectfully.

Simon glared over the rim of his glasses at his newest detective. "Yes, Sandburg, there is. Why else would I've called you in here?" Simon was flipping through some papers on his desk as he was talking. "Luckily for you, it's nothing you or Ellison did. Major Crime was just assigned to a protection detail by the Mayor."

Simon was interrupted as Rafe and Brown entered the room. "Sorry, sir. We were down in the morgue, getting the report on the Smythe murder," Brown reported.

"And that takes two detectives?" Simon asked, sarcastically.

Once Simon's attention was off them, Rafe mouthed, 'I told you so,' to his partner. Brown rolled his eyes and shrugged. The two men sat down on the couch against the wall.

"A protection detail?" Jim asked angrily. "I can't believe this. I thought they promised not to do that to us again after what happened with Jack Bartley."

"They did, but that doesn't matter. Nothing I said convinced the Mayor to change the assignment."

"Just who are we supposed to be protecting?" Rafe asked. A knock at the door halted the conversation as Megan opened the door. Joel arrived seconds behind her, slightly out of breath. They entered the office together and sat down at the table. Jim and Blair took the two chairs in front of Simon's desk.

"Well, now that everyone's finally here, I'll explain. Franklin Welk has added a stop in Cascade to his speaking schedule. He'll be holding a rally on Friday. We're in charge of Mr. Welk's security at the scene," Simon announced. Angry exclamations filled the room.

"No way!"

"We have to protect that bigot!"

"Oh, brother!"

"You have got to be kidding!"

Simon waited until everyone had gotten the objections out of his or her system. "Enough, people, that's our assignment."

"How did we get stuck with this!" Brown asked, putting his hands on his hips. "Ellison, what have you done to piss off the Commissioner this time?"

"Nothing! I haven't seen or spoken to the man in months," Jim answered.

"The Commissioner has ordered that Franklin Welk is entitled to the best protection the city can provide during his hopefully brief stay in our city, which means Major Crime," Simon responded calmly, trying to placate his angry staff. He didn't like the assignment any more than they did, but he had been unable to convince the Police Commissioner or the Mayor to release them.

"The man is a Nazi, a white Supremacist. Why us? This doesn't appear to be a case for Major Crime," Rafe responded angrily.

"The man has received death threats. The last one involved a bomb scare, which resulted in the evacuation of the Cascade Royal Palms Hotel. His despicable beliefs are irrelevant. He is entitled to police protection during the rally."

"Captain, security is going to be a nightmare. Violence follows this man everywhere he speaks," Blair interjected.

"I know, and since it is taking place in front of city hall, the crowds are going to be even harder to control. Be thankful we don't have charge of crowd control. Not to mention, most of you will have no direct contact with the man or his followers. Ellison, Sandburg and Rafe have that particular pleasure reserved for them."

Simon watched as Blair started rubbing his face with one hand, Jim's jaw clenched and Rafe rolled his eyes to the ceiling, sighing loudly. He ignored their reactions and just kept talking, "I want the rest of you stationed in the crowd. Captain Hale plans on having the uniforms work a double shift that day to assist with crowd control."

"What's our job, Captain?" Megan asked.

"Hopefully, you'll be able to spot the troublemakers and contain them before things get out of hand. Ellison, Sandburg, the two of you are escorting Welk to his limo at 12:45. The rally starts at 1:00 PM. Rafe has lead car in the procession. Jim, you bring up the rear."

"Simon, I don't think it's a good idea for me to be directly involved with him," Blair spoke wearily.

"And why should you be excluded from the enjoyment of his company?" Simon asked sarcastically.

"Have you ever heard this man speak? While he has no respect for the 'mud races' as he refers to them, he hates the Jews even more. He believes we are responsible for everything wrong with the world today."

"How do you know so much about him, Blair?" Joel asked.

"A friend of mine did his Master's thesis on the revolution occurring in the White Supremacist Movement. I did some proofreading for him. Franklin Welk is one of the more dangerous members active in the movement today." Blair took a deep breath and explained. "In one speech, he says, and I quote, 'that since the Jews hold all the political and financial power in the country, we must take the law into our own hands and meet them with force, declaring an open season on all Jews.'"

"I can see why you should be excluded from his company," Joel said, thoughtfully.

"Yeah, there are enough psychos out there who have declared open season on Hairboy," Brown added, playfully.

Simon and Jim both glared at H, who quickly apologized. Only Jim heard H mutter, "Touchy, touchy."

Blair ignored the teasing. "All he'd have to do is hear my last name and there'd be trouble before we even got to city hall. Didn't any of you hear what happened when he spoke in Chicago?"

Everyone in the room answered in the negative with either a single no or a shake of the head.

"There were three deaths and a dozen seriously injured in the riot that occurred during his rally when the anti-defamation league protested his appearance at the University there."

"Sandburg, how do you know all this?" Simon asked.

"Did I mention my mother recently visited Chicago?"

"I should have known. Is it encoded in the Sandburg DNA to be a trouble magnet? Never mind! Don't answer that. The Mayor was informed about that incident, which is part of the reason why we were assigned to this event."

Simon took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Blair raised his eyebrows, waiting for Captain Banks to continue.

"However, I take your point. You are excused from the initial meeting with him and his people. You WILL be close to Jim when the rally actually starts. Clear?"

Blair nodded. "Yes, Captain. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"What's the other reason we drew this assignment, sir?" Jim asked curiously.

"Excuse me?"

"You said the incident in Chicago was part of the reason we were assigned. What's the rest of the story?"

"Franklin Welk specifically requested that you be assigned to protect him. As an ex-Army Ranger and Cop of the Year, he said you were the best this city had to offer."

Simon paused as the other officers booed and hissed.

Reaching over to slap Jim on the back, H added, "I knew you were to blame for this, Ellison."

"He also said that if you were not made available, he would have to postpone his speech and extend his stay in our city until you were available."

Jim rolled his eyes, before cursing, "Shit! And the Commissioner agreed to this scum's blackmail?"

"He wants the guy out of Cascade as soon as possible. What would you have done? Last thing, be on time, people. I don't want to give this guy any ammunition concerning the efficiency of the PD."

Friday, May 5, 2000,
12:40 PM

Jim tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the light to change. Normally, it wasn't so quiet in the truck when they were heading out on a case. Blair had an aversion to silence unless he was trying to sleep. He glanced over at his partner who was lost in thought.

"You're pretty quiet over there, Chief. What are you thinking?"

"Did I ever tell you about Naomi's mother?" Blair asked as he turned to face his partner.

Well, this was a typical detour into the Sandburg zone. "No, I don't think you've ever mentioned her among the thousands of other cousins and relatives you have mentioned."

"She died when I was really little. I only remember seeing her like one or two times. I don't think she and Mom got along very well. I remember her tattoo though, the series of numbers on her forearm."

"She was in the death camps during World War II?" Jim questioned softly. He hadn't thought about Blair's Jewish roots.

"She had been at Dachau. She came to this country when the Americans liberated the camp. The rest of her family remained missing, probably killed in one of the other concentration camps."

Jim felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Blair talked so much, it was easy to forget he didn't often volunteer much serious personal information. "I'm sorry, Blair. I didn't think..."

Blair waved off the apology. "It's okay, Jim. No way you could have known which of the many possible directions my thoughts were taking."

"Do you want to talk about it, Chief?" Jim asked when Blair had fallen silent again.

"I remember asking her about it, the tattoo, I mean. My mom freaked when I did. She turned bright red, but Ema Sandburg just patted my cheek. She called it her badge of honor and that it was all right to ask because we must never forget what happened to our people. I've never forgotten her words. She said if it was hidden away, and never spoken of, it could happen again."

"She sounded like a very smart women. I see where you got your brains."

"Thank you. I just wish you could have met her," Blair laughed. "One of the things that really bugs me about Welk is he's a Revisionist."

"A what?"

"One of the people who believe that the holocaust never happened. I saw one of the articles he published in a newspaper. According to his version of history, Hitler never ordered the extermination of the Jews. He supports this by saying that no one has ever been able to produce a copy of any written orders concerning the camps."

"Written orders?" Jim sneered. "Like Hitler would be stupid enough to put something like that in writing in the first place and then not destroy it. He's got to be kidding. This guy doesn't know much about what happens during a war, does he?"

Blair snickered before growing serious again. "He went on by saying they have never found any evidence of human ash that would account for the death of six million Jews. There were statements made during the Nuremberg trial that the crematoriums in the camps were built only to dispose of the dead who died of disease to stop epidemics from spreading in the 're-education camps'. According to Nazi records, fewer than 30,000 bodies were actually cremated, only because they were already dead from disease and not all of them were Jews."

"How does he account for all the people who disappeared?"

"They're all living happily in hiding somewhere in Europe and Africa, of course."

"Right," Jim replied, stretching the word out for several seconds.

"He went on saying that Auschwitz was captured by the Soviets and modified after the war was over to produce fraudulent evidence against the Nazis. He summed it up by producing a technical report by some professor saying the gas reportedly used in the gas chambers would not have worked quickly enough to kill six million people in that short a period of time. The whole article really pissed me off."

Jim stopped for a red light. He glanced over at Blair who was staring out the side window at the people on the sidewalk. "'I'm sorry' seems like such an inadequate thing to say, buddy. Just remember, the guy is a jerk and everyone knows it."

Blair smiled sadly. "I know that. What's really scary to me, is if the Nazis had won the war, they probably could have successfully covered everything up. I remember a professor of mine once saying the victor of the war writes the history."

Jim thought about that for a minute before answering. "Fifty years ago it would have been a lot easier to do that. Today, with the news media and the instant communication around the world, it would be pretty difficult to hide the death camps. Just look at the coverage of the Serbian camps during that conflict."

The light turned green as Blair continued. "I was also thinking I wish I could have gotten to know my grandmother better. There were so many things I would have like to talk to her about. But I've always remembered her words. When I was a freshman at Rainier, I was having a rough time. I ran into a couple of guys who couldn't accept that a sixteen year old Jewish kid was not only taking classes with them, but was blowing the curve."

Blair looked out the window, not saying anything more on the subject, lost in what were obviously very unpleasant memories.

Jim desperately wanted to ask what happened. To understand exactly what his friend had meant by a rough time, but he suspected it would only make him angrier. He clenched his jaw and his grip on the steering wheel was so tight his fingers were white.

Blair happened to glance back around and immediately picked up on the tension. "Jim, relax man or that steering wheel is gonna break off in your hands. It was a long time ago, ancient history. I've dealt with it and moved on."

"I can still wish I had been there. I think both our lives would have been a hell of a lot easier if we had met earlier in life."

Blair shrugged. "After Simon gave us this plum assignment, I did a little research. I found this website at the Harvard Law school called Hatewatch.org. They monitor groups who use the Internet to recruit followers like Welk does. The really scary thing about some of these groups is how rational and logical they sound. Franklin Welk, with his skinhead bullies, is the exception to the majority of the Neo-nazi movements these days."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a big difference between Franklin Welk neo-nazi skinhead demonstrations and some of the 'White Rationalists' movements. That's what they are calling themselves, White Rationalists. They are trying to change the image from the Ku Klux Klan days and the skinhead movement."

"Next they'll be hiring their own publicists."

"Don't laugh. Some of them have, Jim. That's what makes the White Rationalists a real threat. People look at Welk's people, the bald heads, the tattoos and see radicals, nutcases. That, combined with the violence they preach, makes them relatively easy to dismiss."

"So what makes the White Rationalists different?"

"They don't advocate violence. Most of them are white-collar professionals. They are lawyers, business owners or teachers. They were smart enough to figure out that threats, violence and intimidation are not the ways to convert people to their ideas. Welk is an embarrassment to them and to what they are trying to accomplish."

"I wish they'd take care of him for us," Jim said.

"I don't," Blair replied firmly. "No, I prefer having Welk in the spotlight than the White Rationalists. I prefer to know my enemies. Particularly an enemy who is easy to ignore."

Jim wanted to pursue the discussion, but they arrived at the hotel where Welk was staying. A crowd had already gathered, protesting his presence. Welk's limo was already parked right outside the entrance. Jim pulled his truck behind the limo. Blair waved to Rafe who was already waiting in front of the parked vehicle.

"Stay right here, Chief. I'll go get Mr. Welk and be right down."

Jim took the elevator up to the penthouse floor. As the doors opened, he was met by two of Franklin's bodyguards who escorted him inside.

"Detective Ellison, I'm so pleased to meet you finally. May I call you Jim?" Welk oozed across the room, holding out his hand.

"No, you may not. I'm not here to be your friend. I'm here to escort you to the rally," Jim answered tersely, ignoring the offer to shake hands.

"At least, have a drink," Welk suggested nervously. This meeting was not going as he had planned, but he pursued his goal. His sources indicated that the Royal Order of Knights were very interested in gaining this man's services. The Order was only interested in individuals who could aid the Cause.

Jim glared at the man. Declining the drink, he looked pointedly at his watch. "Shouldn't we be leaving? You don't want to be late for your own rally."

Welk stared at the drink he had poured for himself. He was determined to become a member of the Order, but so far his efforts to join had been rebuffed. If Ellison enlisted in his organization, he would have a bargaining chip with the Order, but it didn't appear Ellison was going to cooperate. He decided to continue with his recruitment speech anyway.

"We have a few minutes. I'd like to discuss a job opportunity with you. I'm always on the lookout for people with the right background to join my organization. I think you'll fit in just fine."

"I have a job I'm very happy with and am not interested in anything you've got to say. We have a schedule to keep and I have people waiting downstairs. Can we get this freak show on the road now?"

Welk put on his jacket and headed for the door. "I'm disappointed in you, Jim. But no matter, we'll have plenty of time to discuss this on the way to the rally."

Jim moved out into the hallway first. Welk was in the middle of the group, with the two bodyguards bringing up the rear. "Welk, you're travelling in your car. I'm riding with my partner. My job is to get you to the rally in one piece. I'm not here to socialize."

"Detective Ellison, I would be more comfortable if you were in the limo with me," Welk answered firmly.

"No, and keep this in mind, Welk, no one mentioned that it couldn't be a slightly dented piece. Am I making myself clear here?"

Franklin Welk nodded. Before settling himself on the backseat of the limo, he watched Ellison climb into a beat up blue and white pickup. Welk told the driver to go. Now was not the time to pursue Ellison's membership, but he wasn't giving up on the detective yet. Everyone had his price. He just needed to find out what Ellison's was.

Jim got into the truck and slammed the door shut. Blair knew from the clenched jaw and the stone cold stare the meeting had not gone well.

"What happened?" he asked, as the procession of cars exited the hotel parking lot.

"The idiot tried to recruit me for his little group of thugs. He thinks I'll fit in just fine with his little social club."

"He doesn't know you very well, does he?"

"Do I have a sign on my head that says bigot? What gave that guy the idea I'd want to join his little group?"

"No, Jim, but you have to admit you could be the poster boy for the Aryan Brotherhood. You've got those blue eyes, athletic build, former military man, and if you had more hair on your head..."

"Watch it, Sandburg," Jim threatened, but only half-heartedly. The anger started to fade as he heard his partner laugh at the situation.

"Why are you letting this guy get to you? You're nothing like him, so what does it matter what he thinks?"

"I've been fighting people like him for years and feel like I'm losing ground with each battle."

"We've won a few in the last couple years."

"I know, but think about it, Chief. These people have shown no qualms about blowing up churches. Half the gang wars in the city have been based on racial incidents. I can't even tell you about some of the situations I faced in the military. We take out one group and two more appear."

"So we keep fighting. Just remember, you're not fighting alone anymore."

Jim nodded. He started the truck and pulled out into traffic after the limo.

"You don't have an ounce of prejudice in you, Jim. If you did, I wouldn't be your friend. Neither would Simon, Joel, H, Megan, Rafe or Dan Wolf. You accept people for who they are and how they act, not their sex, race or religion."

Jim swallowed hard. "Thanks, Chief. I think I needed to be reminded of that. It's easy to forget after contact with someone like Welk."

"I won't let you."

There was a large mass of humanity already gathered outside City Hall when the procession arrived. The uniforms had cleared the driveway area of all protestors and supporters. Franklin exited the car, waving to the throng as if they were all in favor of his ideas.

Jim and Rafe managed to get him to the podium without being harmed. Rafe quickly left the area, joining their fellow officers in the crowd. Blair and Jim stayed close to the stage.

Franklin was giving his usual message of hate and violence. The men and women of Major Crime was so busy watching the most vocal and ardent protestors on opposing sides for potential problems, that none of them noticed the quiet well-dressed men moving among the crowd.

These men were not paying attention to the speech. They were intently watching the crowd members, particularly, the men in blue. Discreetly taking down the names or badge numbers of those individuals who appeared to agree with Franklin's principles and those who were strongly opposed. The Royal Order of Knights was wise enough to realize they needed to identify the enemy as well as locate potential allies.

May 13, 2000
8:00 AM, Bullpen

It had been a little over a week since Welk and his group had moved on to the next city on their tour. Jim collected the mail from his box at the station and sat down at his desk. Sandburg was down in Forensics picking up the report on the Carlson murder. Jim was surprised to see a large unmarked brown mailing envelope amidst the usual reports and memos.

He pulled the piece of paper from the envelope and started to laugh as he read the contents.

Welcome, James Ellison,

The Brotherhood of the Blue Knights invites you to join our membership. You have been selected to join this elite organization of fellow law enforcement officers. As a member of the Blue Knights, a multitude of services becomes available for your use. Assistance is provided in both professional and personal areas. There is a nationwide network of contacts you will be given access to through our organization. We have members at all levels of enforcement, county, state and federal. Financial aid for continuing education, housing or medical bills is made available for those in need. Opportunities for professional advancement via transfers are also provided.

If you are interested in joining our ranks, please attend the first local meeting scheduled for Friday, May 19 at 8:00 PM. Location is at the Blue Room of the Cascade Royal Palms. Since our organization is very selective about our membership, understand that this invitation is for you alone.

There was no signature, just a seal at the bottom of the page. Jim crumpled up the invitation into a little ball and tossed it into his wastebasket. "Thanks, but no thanks, guys."

May 21, 2000

No one was in the bullpen when Blair got back from lunch.

He pulled out his mail from his inbox. A blue sheet of paper grabbed his attention. He read the first line of the letter, which started with the phrase 'Hippie Jew boy', and it went downhill from there.

The final sentence recommended that he resign while all his bones were unbroken. Blair wadded up the paper and dropped it in the trash. His former students were more creative in their threats than whatever moron wrote that. He didn't even bother to tell anyone about the note. He also didn't notice the patrol officer who was watching him through the window.

May 23, 2000

Megan walked to her car. It was late and she was exhausted. She was surprised to see an envelope under one of her windshield wipers. She smiled, thinking it was another note from her latest boyfriend who worked in Narcotics.

She opened the letter, but immediately tore it into little pieces. "Resign now, I don't think so. A woman's place is in the home, making babies. I didn't realize there were a few dinosaurs survived the meteor crash because that idea is older than the caveman," she muttered as she started her car.

May 26, 2000

Brown and Rafe were heading for Brown's car. They finally had a break on the Hillside home invasions and needed to check out a lead. Brown froze when he got close enough to see his car. All four tires had been slashed and both the front and rear windshields had been broken.

Rafe took out his cell phone and called forensics to come to the garage. Putting a comforting hand on Brown's shoulder, he said, "Call your insurance rep. I'll see if Jim or Blair can come with me."

"Thanks, man," Brown answered. "Oh, my poor baby." Brown whispered as he leaned his head down on the hood of his formerly brand new car.

May 27, 2000

Two Hispanic officers reported to the watch commander they had found threatening letters inside their lockers after shift change.

Serena and her team had to make three separate trips into the garage after three more cars had been vandalized after the shift change. The violence within the department was escalating.

June 2, 2000
16:30 at the Bullpen

"Chief, why don't you head on down to the truck. I need to print this out and leave it for Simon. I'll only be a few more minutes," Jim suggested as he finished typing the last line.

Blair was sitting on the edge of his desk swinging one foot, having just finished his last report of the day. "Sounds good. How about we get some pizza for dinner? I really don't feel like cooking tonight," Blair replied as he grabbed his jacket.

"Okay, but call it in for take-out. The Jags game is going to start in forty-five minutes and I don't want to miss the tip-off." Jim grabbed the report off the printer, signed his name with a flourish and headed for Simon's office.

Blair called in their order and hung up the phone. The door to Simon's office was closed, but he could hear loud voices emanating from the room.

Oops, looks like Simon disagrees with Jim's report, Blair thought as he quietly slipped out of the bullpen before he was asked to join the discussion. For once, the elevator arrived just after he pushed the button and took him straight to the garage level.

As he made for Jim's truck, he heard angry voices over to the left. For some reason, the lights in this section of the garage weren't working. Blair glanced over at the security camera for this area. He didn't see the red light indicating a functional camera. The garage was the weakest point in the building's security system, but several upgrades had been added after the Sunrise Patriots had taken over the building a few years back. Something was wrong here. He quietly moved between the cars in the direction of the voices.

Though the overhead lights weren't working, the emergency exit light was bright enough that he could see two uniforms holding a man against the wall. A third man threw several punches into the man's stomach, then socked him in the jaw. They were ranting, but Blair couldn't understand what was being said. He moved a little closer. The third officer shifted slightly to the side and Blair was able to identify the man being beaten. It was Joel Taggart.

"Let him go!" Blair yelled as he charged the three officers.

Jim knocked on the door to Simon's office. After hearing the gruff, "Enter!" he poked his head into the office.

"I just finished up the Carlson report. I wanted to leave it on your desk before heading out tonight, sir."

Simon looked up from the file he was reading. He waved his hand and gestured towards one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Have a seat, Ellison. I need to talk to you about something."

Jim glanced longingly at the door. He could see his partner on the phone. "Do you want Sandburg, too?" He asked hopefully.

"Not right now. We will have to bring him in on this if you agree to do it. Have you seen this before?" Simon asked handing a piece of paper across the desk.

Jim nodded. It was a copy of the invitation to join the Brotherhood of the Blue Knights. "Yeah, received one myself a while ago. Put it in the circular file right after I opened it. I'm not the type to join one of those organizations, running around with secret handshakes and silly hats. It's more Sandburg's style than mine."

Simon's head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise when he heard Blair's name. "Did Sandburg receive an invitation?"

"No, come to think of it. He didn't, or at least he didn't mention if he did."

"I would have been very surprised if he did. The Chief asked me to look into this organization; it's highly suspicious, Jim. I asked around our unit to find out who received an invitation. Joel, H, Megan, Blair and I did not. The only two officers invited were you and Rafe. See a trend here?"

Jim took a second look at the words on the invitation. In light of Simon's information, they showed a brand new picture of the Blue Knights. "In a police station! These guys think they can get away with this!"

"I hate to tell you, Jim, but there have been several minority harassment incidents already. All pretty minor stuff, but it is escalating. There is a major problem brewing in the Department."

"What do you want me to do about it? Take them up on their invitation? See if I can find out who's involved?" Jim offered.

"No, I want you to use those senses of yours to check out every officer in this division. I want to know how many officers in the Department are committed to this organization. These people turn my stomach and I want them found!"

Jim wasn't sure he had heard his captain correctly. Was Simon really asking him to spy on all the private conversations being held in the department? Put under a microscope the words and actions of innocent people who have done nothing to warrant suspicion? Jim had no qualms about using his senses to collect evidence against suspected criminals. He would do whatever was necessary to take them off the streets, particularly anyone who was a threat to Sandburg. This was different. Simon was asking him to take part in a witch-hunt.

"You want me to use my senses to spy on my coworkers. Respectfully, I won't do that."

"I'm assigning you this case. I want you to track down criminals acting within the Department," Simon yelled. "This situation is rapidly getting out of control. I need you on this."

"I thought it was IA's job to investigate internal matters. Why are we getting involved?"

"The Chief thinks that IA has already been compromised. I haven't been able to get anywhere with this investigation and the violence is escalating. They started with threatening letters. Joel has received several threatening letters, as have I."

Jim was taken aback by this news. "Joel? He hasn't said anything about this."

"As African-American men of rank, we are high on their hit list. Then they moved onto minor acts of vandalism. They slashed the tires on Brown's car last week, while it was parked in the PD garage. Margaret Chin's car was spray painted with racial epithets."

As Simon was talking, he showed Jim the various reports on the incidents and copies of the letters. "These are only the incidents that were reported. I'm sure there are others."

"I agree with you that these attacks have to stop now. But, even if I did what you're asking, nothing I uncover would be admissible."

"I know that. If you can identify just a couple of members, we'll have a starting point."

"Do you really understand what you are asking me to do? There are hundreds of officers and support staff working in this building each shift. If I've got to sort through all of these conversations, I won't be able to get any work done and neither will Blair."

"What does Sandburg have to do with this?"

"He'll have to help me focus and sort through all the input. I'm not even sure I can do this. I've never tried something of this magnitude before."

"You have to try." Simon started to pace in an attempt to control his anger and frustration. "They're threatening our families. They've threatened my son, Jim. I want them taken down before anyone gets seriously hurt. Do you understand where I'm coming from?"

"Yes, sir. Do you have any suspects yet? Anyone you have confirmed as being a member? At least, give me a starting point."

"No, just some suspicions. It's a pretty secretive group and no one is talking."

Simon moved several sheets of paper around on his desk until he found the right list. Though it was upside down, Jim recognized Rafe's handwriting immediately.

"I did discover Rafe actually attended the first meeting. He said they kept it very general. None of the people speaking during the meeting were local and Rafe didn't go back. He grew suspicious after he noticed there were no minorities invited to the meeting."

"Did they do or say anything we could use as a basis for an investigation?"

Simon shook his head. "No, Rafe just said they made him nervous. He couldn't put his finger on exactly why, but he got the impression the group's intentions were somewhat questionable. He gave me a few names of others that attended the first meeting, but that's it."

"I'll get Sandburg to check out the personnel records on file. I'll see if we can dig up anything useful."

"That will take too long. I know you are capable of hearing every conversation that goes on in this building if you wanted. I've seen you in action. You are the best chance we have to identify who is involved quickly, to prevent any more incidents."

"I won't spy on my coworkers private conversations, Simon. When I've used my senses, it has always been in response to an official investigation with a specific suspect. General spying on our coworkers would be the same as an illegal wiretap or collecting evidence without a search warrant. I don't want to do that unless we have no other option.

"Jim, I understand your reluctance, but I really need you to do this."

"I've never spied on my friends. I've always gone out of my way to leave my friends a little privacy whether they've known that I'm a Sentinel or not."

"Whoever is doing this is not your friend, Jim."

"I know that, Simon. What you don't understand is that unless I keep my hearing turned down to normal levels at work, I wind up with a major migraine at the end of the day. You have no idea how difficult it is to maintain control over my senses when I have to deal with large numbers of people. Give me the list of suspected members. I'll start with them and see what I can..." Jim's voice trailed off as he heard Blair's voice yelling.

He closed his eyes to focus his hearing on his partner's voice. He could hear several other muted voices in the background, echoing strangely.

"Ellison! What's going on!" Simon demanded to know, jumping to his feet.

"Blair's found trouble. I can hear him yelling at someone to let go," Jim called back over his shoulder as he headed for the hall.

"So what else is new," Simon muttered as he followed Jim into the hallway, bypassing the elevator and running down the stairs. "Where is he?" Simon gasped after they had gone down five flights.

"Garage. I told him to wait for me at the truck."

Jim reached the garage level, a full flight of stairs ahead of his Captain. He was horrified to see Sandburg struggling with three uniforms but didn't stop moving.

Joel Taggart was on the ground, his head leaning against the wall, obviously unconscious. Even though he was outnumbered, Blair was putting up quite a fight against the assailants. They had obviously landed a few punches.

Blair's lip was bleeding, and his right eye already was starting to bruise, but they couldn't get a firm grip on him. Jim cheered inside as Blair knocked one of the attackers to the ground.

"Freeze, Cascade PD!" Jim yelled, weaving his way through the cars to help his partner.

One of the attackers looked over at Jim when he realized that reinforcements had arrived for their victims. He helped the second man off the floor and they took off. Blair grabbed the arm of the third man before he could flee and landed several good combination punches.

Blair landed a right cross to his opponent's jaw. The man fell back against the wall, still upright but leaning heavily. He wasn't really conscious anymore. If it hadn't been for the wall, he would have fallen down, but Blair didn't seem to realize it. Blair hit him twice more. Jim couldn't understand what was keeping the man on his feet.

Jim glanced at the direction the other two had taken, then stared at his partner's face. Blair was beyond reason. Jim had never seen him this angry before, not even when he had believed Brother Marcus had been murdered. Finally, he decided it was more important to keep Blair from killing the suspect than pursuing the other suspects.

Blair was about to throw another punch, when strong arms grabbed him from behind. He struggled against the hold, unable to recognize the voice speaking in his ear. "Blair! Stop it! You got him. He's had enough. He's not going anywhere."

Jim now understood how Sandburg had managed to get the upper hand on Joel's attackers. Sandburg's arms and legs flailed wildly in unexpected directions. Clearly, he didn't recognize that it was his Sentinel who was attempting to restrain him.

Jim felt like he was holding a pissed-off wildcat. He kept talking, though, trying to imitate the guide voice that Blair generally used on him. "Calm down, Chief. It's over. It's over now."

Simon came up behind him. Jim shook his head, indicating he didn't need help. Simon cuffed the unconscious assailant before calling for backup and an ambulance. He leaned down over Joel to check on the severity of the injuries.

Jim held on tight, continuing to speak. Slowly as Blair realized the danger was over, his struggling ceased. Jim loosened his grip, turning around to face his partner. "It's over, Blair. You did good."

Blair's nodded. His chest heaved while he caught his breath. The burst of adrenaline that had been sustaining him dissipated; his knees were shaky. He reached for the wall, but he was too far away. Jim grabbed for him again, this time to provide support rather than restraint, but more importantly, to keep Blair from hitting the ground as his eyes rolled back in his head. Gently Jim lowered his partner to the floor, monitoring his vitals. There didn't seem to be any serious injuries, just the letdown as the adrenaline left his system.

He looked over at Simon, who was holding Joel's hand, providing what little comfort he could. "Simon, the other two got away."

"We'll find them, Jim. From what little I saw, Blair got a couple of good shots on them, too. They didn't even bother with masks."

"Those guys were pretty arrogant. It was as if they didn't care who saw them."

"I know. They must believe they've got some support and protection. When Joel and Blair wake up, if they didn't recognize them, we'll have them go through the files."

Blair wasn't sure what was happening as he regained consciousness. He knew he was in a moving vehicle, but he was lying down. The light bulb went on: another ambulance ride to Cascade General.

"Can you open your eyes for me, Chief?" A familiar voice asked.

"Jim?"

"Who else, Chief? How are you feeling?"

"Like I took on three big apes all by myself."

"Pretty accurate description."

"How's Joel?"

"He's in the other ambulance. He has some internal bleeding and is shocky. Simon is with him."

"Why did they do this?" Blair muttered angrily.

Jim leaned over the gurney. Blair was about to give them the information they needed to catch these guys. He had been confident that his partner would be able to identify them. His memory for people was amazing. "Who, Chief? Who did this?" Jim pressed.

"Brooks, Dunston and Price. They were the ones who attacked Joel. Did you get them?"

Sadly, Jim shook his head. "Dunston is the only one in custody. The other two got away."

"Damn, we need to get them before they hurt anyone else," Blair said as he tried to get up, but the straps on the gurney were still fastened tightly around him.

Jim gently rested one arm across Blair's chest to keep him from struggling. "Relax, Blair. You've done your duty for the evening. Let the doctors check you out."

Jim relayed the information via cell phone to Simon, who called in the APB's on them before they even reached the hospital.

Blair listened to the report, then closed his eyes. He wasn't about to argue. His head had started pounding fiercely.

Two teams of doctors were waiting for them at the ER entrance. Blair was wheeled into a treatment room. Joel was taken directly to the surgical unit. Simon and Jim were ushered into a private surgical waiting room. Simon sat down, but Jim felt the need to pace. Too much had happened in the last few hours for him to be able to relax.

"Ellison, how did you hear Sandburg? He was seven floors away from us. I thought you kept your hearing on low at the bullpen."

"I can hear Blair no matter how far away he is from me. We think it's a part of the Sentinel/Guide bond."

Simon nodded. It was the answer he had expected to hear after watching those two men for the last several years. "Jim, I've been thinking. I'm sorry. I was out of line. Asking you to use your senses on the people in the department was wrong. The only excuse I have is that I don't think clearly when it comes to people who've threatened my son."

Jim paused his pacing to stare at his distraught friend. He had witnessed on several occasions just how strongly Simon felt about Daryl. He envied their relationship, as he had no ties with his own father. "I understand where you were coming from, Simon. No apology's necessary."

"Thanks, Jim."

Jim took the seat next to Simon. "Now that we have a couple of suspects, one in custody, I'll see what I can find out. I'll do whatever it takes to find out who's responsible for this, but within the law. I don't want these guys to walk away on some technicality. Okay, Captain? I learned my lesson with the Juno brothers."

The conversation was interrupted as the doctor walked in the room. "Gentlemen, I'm Doctor Everett. I've been examining Mr. Sandburg."

Both men climbed to their feet to greet the physician. "How is he, Doc?" Jim asked.

"Actually, the damage doesn't appear to be too serious. We are still waiting for the x-rays of his ribs, though. I don't see any sign of a concussion or internal bleeding. He does have quite a few colorful bruises. If the x-rays come back clean, we'll send him home tonight."

Simon smiled broadly. "That's good to hear. Do you have any information on Joel Taggart? He was brought in the other ambulance."

"It's too early to know anything about Mr. Taggart yet. He's still in surgery."

At that instant, Simon's pager went off. He stepped out of the room to find a pay phone.

"I need to go check on Mr. Sandburg's X-rays. I'll check back with you as soon as there's any more news."

Jim expressed his thanks before sitting down to wait. A few minutes later, Simon came back into the waiting room. He was literally shaking with rage when he entered.

"Simon, what's happened?" Jim asked, when he saw his captain's face.

"Brooks, Dunston and Price are all dead," Simon replied.

"How?" Jim asked, stunned by the revelation.

"Brooks was found in his apartment, the victim of an apparent break-in. The house had been tossed, jewelry, his wallet, and all the electronics were removed from the scene. It appears he walked in on the burglars and was shot twice, once in the head and once in the chest.

"What about Price?"

"It appears he had a traffic accident. They are pulling his car out of the North Sound as we speak. A broken guardrail on top of Cascade Bluff indicated that someone had gone over."

"Are they sure he was in the car? This wasn't faked?"

"Afraid so. Divers from the Coast Guard reported finding the car with the body inside. An empty bottle of whisky was found next to the body."

Jim's case was rapidly falling apart. With all the reports Simon had in the file, there had must have been more than three men involved. Now, with no one to question, the investigation was back to square one.

"Dunston was in custody. What happened to him?"

"He used the sheet in his cell to hang himself," Simon answered.

"So all three of our suspects are dead." Jim rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Someone is covering their tracks, leaving behind a trail of bodies."

"It's going to make the investigation a lot more difficult without having suspects to question."

"Do you realize just how far up this conspiracy goes? Their reaction time was quick even for a black ops type operation. They must have some people in pretty high places."

"Which is going to make an investigation even harder."

Doctor Everett walked back into the room just as Simon finished speaking. "I have some good news for you. Mr. Sandburg's x-rays came back clean. As soon as we get the paperwork finalized, he's free to leave."

"I bet he was very happy to hear that," Jim replied, knowing how much his partner hated hospital stays.

"Jim, why don't you go stay with Blair? Let him know what's been going on. I'll let you know immediately when I get word on Joel."

"Follow me, Detective Ellison. I'll take you to your partner," the doctor offered.

When Jim entered the treatment room, Blair was sleeping on the gurney. Someone had thoughtfully draped a warm blanket over him, but it had slipped down off his shoulders as he had shifted during his sleep. Jim pulled the cover back up, accidentally waking Blair during the process.

"Hey, Jim. How's Joel?" Blair asked, yawning.

"Still in surgery; we haven't heard anything yet," Jim answered softly.

Blair nodded, then sighed. "Why? What did Joel do to deserve that?" Blair muttered as he attempted to sit up.

"Nothing. It was a hate crime, Blair." Jim explained sadly, as he helped his partner sit upright on the bed. "There have been a series of incidents all over the station. Simon was telling me about it while you were rescuing Joel."

Blair looked thoughtful for a minute. "I thought it was a joke," he whispered.

"What?"

"About a week ago, I got a threatening letter, hate mail. I tossed it."

"You should have said something."

"Sorry, Jim. I really didn't take it seriously. It's not the first time. There were a whole bunch of notes after I first got my badge and was officially assigned directly to Major Crime."

"And you're only telling me this NOW!" Jim said, his voice getting louder with every word.

"Don't upset my patient, Detective, he hasn't been released yet," the Doctor said as he entered the room carrying Blair's final paperwork.

"I'm all set to go now, Doc," Blair said.

"I can see that. Keep in mind, you're off duty the next twenty-four hours and on desk duty for the rest of the week. Understand?"

"Yes, Doctor," Jim and Blair said simultaneously, then both started laughing. The Doctor just shook his head and left the room.

The nurse on duty brought Blair a scrub shirt. Rather than leaving the hospital, the two men rejoined their Captain in the surgical waiting room.

Blair stretched out on the long couch, dozing on and off as they waited for word. Simon and Jim didn't talk very much either. Both had reached the point of exhaustion, but neither was willing to leave until they heard that Joel was going to be all right.

It was several hours before the surgeon appeared, but he was wearing a big smile when he entered the room. They had to remove Joel's spleen to stop the bleeding, but he was doing very well. He would spend the next few hours in recovery, before being moved to the Critical Care Unit. No visitors would be allowed until the following afternoon, but the Doctor believed that Joel would recover completely.

Once they knew that Joel was going to be okay, Jim drove them home. Blair didn't even make it to the first stoplight before he fell asleep, leaning his head back on the seat.

Jim had to shake him awake when they got to the loft and help him out of the truck. Thankfully, the elevator was working. Jim had to nudge him again to get him out of the elevator when they arrived on the third floor though. "Come on, Conan. Time for superheroes to get tucked in bed."

"Not a superhero," Blair mumbled sleepily, leaning against the door as Jim unlocked the deadbolt.

"You are to me, buddy. I'm thinking of hanging up the Blessed Protector cape and tights after what I saw tonight," Jim answered, steering his sleepy partner towards his bedroom after watching him bounce off the front doorframe.

"Nope, if I was a superhero, my knuckles wouldn't hurt so much," Blair replied staring for a moment at his hand, almost walking into the wall next to his room.

"Easy there, watch where you're going." Jim grabbed him by the shoulders and guided him through the obstacle course on the floor of the bedroom. He helped Blair ease down slowly onto the futon. "I'll get you some ice for that hand, Chief. Think you can handle getting undressed?"

"Sure, been doing it for years. Go, I'm fine." Blair waved him off, only tilting a little to the side.

Jim started to head into the kitchen, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blair trying to pull his jeans off before removing his sneakers. When Blair started to fall on his face, reaching for his feet, he decided it was time to intervene.

"Let me help you here, buddy. It helps if you take the shoes off first," Jim suggested, bending over to remove the shoes, trying not to laugh. Blair had been through a lot in the past couple of hours, else this would be great blackmail material.

Blair sat back and pouted. "See what I mean. I bet Batman doesn't have a problem getting his clothes off." Blair let Jim untangle his jeans from his shoes as he started working on pulling off the scrub shirt.

Jim snickered at the plaintive tone. "Sure he does. After a hard day of answering the bat signal, he has his problems, too. Why do you think he keeps Alfred around?"

"So, I guess you're Alfred." Blair leaned to his left, a little too far trying to get his shirt off and fell sideways onto the pillow instantly asleep.

"You bet, Batman," Jim said softly as he finished removing the shirt before rolling Blair's lower body onto the bed. "At least you didn't call me Robin. I'd have had to hurt you." He shook out the blanket that was folded on the foot of the bed and covered the sleeping man. Shaking his head, he headed for the freezer. He still needed to get that icepack for Blair's hand.

June 3, 2000
Somewhere in Cascade

"This meeting is called to order," the deep voice emanated from beneath the white cloak worn by The Leader of the table.

Twelve men took their seats at the round table; each grouped according to their colors. Three from each group: blue for law enforcement, red for politics, green for finances and black, the smallest and most mysterious group. Their function was to erase problems for the Order. Those created accidentally by the Order, and those that created difficulties for the Order.

Heavy cloaks were worn to hide their identities, though each knew several of the others present. Once they had taken their seats. The Leader took his place on the raised dais.

"We have a problem. The chair recognizes the Speaker for the Blue Order to present their case."

One of the men wearing a blue cloak rose to his feet. "There has been a serious compromise of the laws governing our membership. Several new recruits had to be dealt with due to their poor judgement in advancing our goal."

"We are all aware of the situation. I thought the Black Knights had taken care of those men?"

"They did, but the officer in charge of the investigation is well known to us all. Detective Ellison will be relentless in his pursuit of those who ordered the attack on his friend and colleague. Our organization is at risk due to the stupidity of these men."

"Then we must give him a target for his anger; a scapegoat to take the heat from us. Who was in charge of recruiting these men?" The Leader questioned.

"Captain Hale, a thirty year veteran in our Order," The Blue Speaker answered.

"Then he should have known better. The price required from those who fail us is one of our fundamental principles. What are our options?"

The Speaker for Black Knights asked permission to speak. "During the sweep of Brooks's apartment, we found several tapes and documents implicating Captain Hale's role in the problems Cascade PD experienced over the last several weeks. It appears Brooks did not trust his Captain completely. We can arrange this evidence be given over to Detective Ellison." The Black Speaker bowed his head and continued with, "anonymously, of course."

"Won't he be suspicious?"

"Not if it includes a heartfelt note from Officer Brooks. A concerned officer infiltrating a radical organization, not knowing who he could trust within the PD. The poor man knew he was in over his head and arranged for the information to be given to the one cop he thought he could trust."

"Sounds sufficient, are all in agreement?" The Leader called for a vote. All Order voting was done by secret ballot.

The vote was unanimous in favor of the plan.

"Let it be done. This meeting is adjourned."

The Speaker for the Black Knights intercepted the Leader before he could leave. "You know that sooner or later something will have to be done about Detective Ellison."

"Yes, but the timing is not right. The military screwed up royally, letting Oliver do as he pleased. James would have joined us if he had not been so disillusioned by the events before and after Peru."

"You still believe he can be convinced to join us."

"Yes, a few more years of being a detective will see to that. He'll watch the powerful escape justice. His own principles will motivate him to join. If the offer is presented properly, he will accept. But it is too soon."

"Yes, Leader." The Black Knight answered respectfully, bowing his head as he left the Leader's side.

June 5, 2000
Interrogation Room

Captain Jonathan Hale was brought into the interrogation room. He sat down and stared arrogantly at the detective sitting across the table from him.

Jim threw the envelope that had arrived on his desk in the morning mail across the table at him. The evidence needed to gain the search warrant for Hale's apartment and Office. "Why did you do it? You're a Captain with twenty years experience. How could you advocate attacking your peers?"

"Joel Taggart is not my peer. If it hadn't been for Affirmative Action, he wouldn't have made Captain. Nor that wuss, Banks."

"I know for a fact that Joel Taggart graduated first in his class at the Academy, beating out every other cadet. In those days, every obstacle possible was in place to keep the minorities from succeeding," Blair corrected.

Captain Hale ignored Blair's comment and his very presence in the room and spoke only to Jim. "Don't you get it, Ellison? You should be on our side. With your record, you, yourself, should be a Captain by now. You should be in charge of Major Crime, not a lowly detective."

"You don't know anything about me or my record."

"I know more than you think. I know the white male is rapidly becoming a persecuted minority in today's society. There are black organizations that are allowed by law to exclude us whites. What is the problem with white organizations that exclude blacks and other inferior races?" Hale bellowed, finally acknowledging Blair's presence by sneering at him as he said the last two words.

Hale tried to get to his feet, but Ellison forced him to sit back down. Hale didn't back down one inch as he continued his diatribe. "After all, what's the difference between Black Pride and White Pride, other than the color of the person who's saying the words. You bleeding hearts talk about equality, how about equality for both sides?"

"Being equal doesn't necessarily represent something good," Blair interjected. "Separation encourages the distrust, the hatred between the races. Did you ever consider that what you are trying to do may be equal, but it's the wrong path for society to take?"

"Liberal clap-trap, Jew boy. You have no idea who you're dealing with." Captain Hale refocused his attention on Jim. "War between the races is coming, Ellison. There's nothing you can do to stop it. Their side is more organized and they have us outnumbered. Now is the time for our side to gather our forces."

"I'm not on your side. You believe that war between the races is inevitable. I think you're wrong about that. You don't think different races and religions can co-exist in peace. I know you're wrong about that. Major Crime is the epitome of what society could be if it tried and I am proud to serve with every man and woman in that unit."

"Take the blinders off, Ellison. You are never gonna move up in this world with that attitude."

"You and your kind are everything I have fought against all my life. You are just as offensive to me as Franklin Welk."

"Please! There is a major difference between the Blue Knights and that group of thugs."

"Not from where I'm sitting."

"We use people like Welk. How do you think we came up with the list of prospective members? Our people were observing the reactions of the people in the crowd at Welk's rally. We recruit those who despise the ignorance he spews, but accepts the ideals. You should have accepted the invitation to join, Detective Ellison."

"Hale, quit making speeches. No one here is interested. You are going down for ordering the attack on Joel Taggart. The only question we have for you is, are you going down alone?"

Hale shook his head, leaning back in his chair. "You're chasing your tail with this investigation, Detective. This was just one small, unsanctioned operation within the Royal Order of Knights. Our group's founding dates back to the Middle Ages."

"Sounds like you've outlived your usefulness," Jim interrupted.

"The Blue Knights are just one small part of our organization, the law enforcement branch. The Green Knights are the financial people, those with the money and the power to make things happen. The Red Knights are the political movers. They see to it that our rights are protected and let us not forget the Black Knights. They are our internal deliverers of justice, the warrior class. They clean up when someone in the group makes an error or if the Round Table demands justice. Our members include heads of state, political leaders, and captain's of industry, district attorneys and judges. Go ahead and book me. I won't be in jail for long. I have powerful friends."

"Why don't you give me their names? I'd really like to speak with them," Jim asked.

"I have nothing further to say. Please, I'd like to go back to my cell. Bail hearing is in two hours, you know. I plan on sleeping comfortably in my own bed tonight."

Jim knew he wouldn't get anywhere with interrogating this man. Hale had been playing the game for longer than Sandburg had been alive. He allowed Rafe and Brown to escort Hale from the room to one of the solitary rooms in holding. They were taking no chances with losing this suspect.

The courtroom was packed. Simon and Jim were standing at the back of the room when Hale made his appearance before Judge Janson.

"How do you plead?" the Judge asked, distracted as she searched for the file on her desk.

"Not guilty, your honor," Hale replied confidently.

"Your honor, request bail in the amount of one hundred thousand," the DA requested.

Before the judge could reply, there was a loud commotion coming from the area where the next suspect was waiting. Before anyone could react, the man had stolen the gun from one of the guards and was firing wildly.

One of the other guards pulled his own weapon, shooting the suspect, killing him with one shot. When everything had settled, Jim realized that the only other person hit by any of the shots was the former Captain Hale and he was dead.

"Ellison! Sandburg! My office, right now," Simon ordered as he entered the bullpen. He had just come back from a meeting with the Commissioner and he was not happy.

Jim and Blair followed him into his office and sat down in the chairs in front of the desk. Simon neither reached for his coffee mug nor offered to his detectives, which demonstrated just how upset he truly was.

"We have been ordered to drop any further investigating into Hale's death and the Brotherhood of the Blue Knights. I've just spent the last two hours getting my ass chewed off for 'wasting' the department's 'limited' resources on a case that should have been closed with his death."

"Gee, Simon. I thought it was my imagination that those pants looked a little loose on you in the seat," Blair teased.

"Chief, are you checking out the Captain's action?" Jim teased.

"Nope, just happened to be behind him walking in here," Blair explained, shaking his head.

Simon was dumbfounded at the discussion between his best team. He dropped heavily into his chair, his mouth opened. He had expected them to be pissed and yell. Maybe, get up and leave slamming the door, but not this frivolity.

Blair finally took pity on him and explained. "Simon, we expected this. They obviously have several people in high places if they managed to take out three police officers in two hours, not to mention Captain Hale. Who did the order come from to stop the investigation?"

"The Governor," Simon replied.

"That's twenty bucks you owe me, Big Guy."

Jim reached into his wallet for the money. "I still think the Mayor is involved," he grumbled, handing the money to his exuberant partner.

"I can't believe you guys are giving up this easily," Simon muttered between clenched teeth.

"We're not. We just have to be careful and discreet with our investigation. I'm not letting this drop. I'm not about to allow this operation to continue in my city," Jim said, with the anger his Captain had expected earlier.

Simon smiled. "Keep me informed, off the record, of course. Would either of you like some coffee?" Simon said as he reached for the pot behind him.

At the same time
Elsewhere in Cascade

Only two people remained sitting at the round table after the others had left the room. The meeting had been a success. The Governor put a stop to the Cascade PD's investigation.

Plans were already being executed for damage control and new procedures were being distributed concerning the solicitation of new members. Recent events clearly demonstrated they had become lax in their duty to the Order here on the West Coast.

Most of the group believed the situation was under control. Only two of the men had their doubts, probably because they had inside information, which the others did not have.

"So, Dad, do you really think they will actually drop the investigation?" The green knight asked the highest-ranking member of the West Coast Round Table.

"No, I know James too well. After all, he's my son, too," answered William Ellison.

June 9, 2000
Major Crime Bullpen

Jim slammed down the phone, another dead end. It had been less than a week since Captain Hale had been murdered in open court. The brass had shut down their investigation, but neither of them was willing to let this case go. Jim had called one of his friends from his Covert Op days, but hadn't gotten anything useful.

Blair was meeting with Jack Kelso for lunch. Maybe he'd do better with tracking down a lead. Jack's sources within the Government were better than Jim had and Jack was very fond of Blair.

Jim was sorting through his notes on the last jewelry store break-in as Blair bounced into the bullpen. He asked, "So what did you find out from Jack? It must be good, you're bouncing."

"He's going to dig around for us, but he did know a few things about the Royal Order of Knights."

"Anything useful?"

"Seems Cascade is the head of operations for the West Coast Round Table. What Hale told us about the four different branches is true, but he didn't mention the Round Table."

"What, like in King Arthur and..."

"Yep. Each of the branches elects three representatives to the Round Table to present their interests. Those three representatives choose one of them to speak for them at the table. These twelve men make decisions for their level of the Order."

"What do you mean 'their level'? How many levels are there?" Jim asked, leaning backward in his chair until his head was resting against the wall.

Blair pulled out his notebook and started reading. "The structure is hierarchical. Each State has its own Round Table. These people select the members of the Round Table for each of the four sections of the country, which in turn selects a National group. There is also an international organization, but it's more to compare notes. No powers to do anything useful; kind of like England's monarchy. One country does not interfere in the actions of another."

"How much power does this organization hold? God, this is creepy. A shadow government existing within the real government. This should be on the X-files."

Blair laughed. He couldn't believe Jim had said that. He hated that show. "In some states, they hold quite a bit of power. They control the elections in several states. Jack also explained that to prevent deadlocks during votes, each Round Table elects a leader, their own King Arthur. This man can come from any of the four branches of the Knights. He holds the position until someone challenges him for the position."

"If you tell me they hold a duel, I swear I'll..." Jim's threat trailed off.

"Don't strain yourself thinking up a comeback, Jim. You need those few remaining brain cells to fight off senility."

"Come here, Sandburg. My arms aren't long enough."

"I don't think so and no, they don't hold duels. In order to uphold a challenge, there must be eight votes from the Knights of the Round Table in favor of a new leader. A vote of confidence is called. A debate is held and the membership is allowed to vote."

"Surprisingly democratic of them. Jack didn't have anything else? Any ideas on how to track these people down?"

"'Fraid not. Jack promised to see what else he could find out, but he doubts it will be much. He doesn't have any contacts within this organization."

"This is going to be a lot tougher than I thought. We can talk about this more later on." Jim turned his chair towards his computer. He still had a desk full of paperwork to finish.

"By the way, Chief, Simon can't have the poker game at his house tonight. He wanted to know if we can have it at the loft."

"Sure, but he better bring the food and beer. There is nothing in the loft to feed these guys."

"I'll tell him. He'd already stockpiled a bunch of stuff, so it won't be a problem."

"By the way, Jim, Jack did have one other interesting piece of information for us." Blair paused, waiting for Jim to ask.

"Spill it, Chief."

"Your favorite neo-nazi is back in town. Seems he's been asking a lot of questions about you."

"Not Franklin Welk?"

Blair nodded.

"Can this day get any worse?" Jim asked, staring at the ceiling.

Location Unknown

The General was sitting at his desk, reading through the latest West Coast activity report. A Captain entered his office. Standing in front of the desk, he came to attention and saluted. The General returned the salute. "At ease. Have you been monitoring the recent events in Cascade?"

The Captain assumed a parade rest stance before answering. "Yes, Sir! The Blue Knights blundered badly when they interfered in Cascade PD's operation. I'm surprised. Usually, they aren't this sloppy."

The General nodded. "During the recruitment drive, did they approach Ellison?"

"Yes, he turned them down cold. He didn't even attend the informational meeting."

A twisted smile appeared on the General's face. "Finally, the opportunity I have been waiting for. This changes everything. It appears he is no longer under the protection of the Round Table, not if he refused the offer to join them. Have him picked up immediately."

The General reached for a key he had hidden under the desktop. Over the years, he had amassed certain files for his own advantage. Now one of those files was about to bring him all the power he craved. He opened the locked file drawer on the right side of his desk. He pulled out the file labeled Ellison and started flipping through the contents.

"It's time to verify that he is a Sentinel and find out just how powerful he is. Once we understand his abilities, we can begin programming him for our operations. General Fox really dropped the ball on this one. He never should have released Ellison from service after Peru. I knew he wasn't suffering from PTSS. If I hadn't been overruled, he would have been ours years ago."

The Captain nervously shifted his weight. "Sir, I believe that bringing him in would be a serious mistake. The Order made it clear to our superiors a long time ago that Ellison is off limits. That is not an organization we wish to anger."

"Are you questioning my orders?" The General angrily asked his subordinate.

"No, Sir!" the Captain barked, coming back to attention.

"Have him brought to the facility north of Cascade. I've been planning for this contingency for a long time. Twenty-four hours from now, it will be fully staffed and ready to receive the subject. Dismissed."

The Captain saluted and left the office, wondering how quickly he could get a transfer approved. If the General was wrong and Ellison continued to be under the protection of the Round Table, none of them would survive the retribution arising from this particular act.

June 13, 2000
Major Crime

Simon sat at his desk blankly staring out the window. It had been four days now. Four days since Jim had left the loft during the weekly poker game on a simple beer run and had never returned. There were no witnesses, no leads. It was as if the man had dropped from the face of the planet.

He turned back to shuffle through the papers on his desk. Not that he had gotten much work done lately. None of his unit had. Most of their cases had been taken over by the other units so his people could concentrate on finding Jim. He hadn't requested the assistance. The other Captains had appeared in his office the day after Jim was taken and simply took over the Major Crime caseload.

He stared through the blinds into the bullpen, watching the men and women under his command trying to track down any leads on their missing friend. His eyes were automatically drawn to the two empty desks by the door. He had ordered Blair home an hour ago, escorted by two uniforms. Blair had been placed under guard the moment they had discovered Jim had disappeared. Whoever had the Sentinel would come back for the Guide sooner or later. He was sure of it.

Blair's resilience still amazed him, even after seeing him in action all these years. The man hadn't eaten or slept in the last seventy-two hours. He finally had blacked out at his desk, while running yet another computer search on the Royal Order of Knights. Blair was sure they were the ones who had taken his partner. Retribution for their continued investigation into the Order's operations.

When he had opened his eyes, he had fought Simon's order to leave. With a stubborn pose, he had planted himself in his chair and would not budge. Megan was the one who finally convinced him to agree with the order to go home. Simon had been dumbfounded as he watched Megan maneuver Blair with the touch of a master manipulator. Simon had tried suggesting, asking politely, ordering firmly, then yelling at Blair to get him to leave.

Megan had watched, in silence, his attempts to convince Blair to rest. When Simon had finally paused for oxygen, she had used only four words to convince Blair to rest. "Jim's gonna need you."

Simon was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Rafe hanging up the phone and heading straight for his office. Not until he heard the words he had needed to hear the last couple of days.

"Simon, we have a lead on Jim," Rafe exclaimed as he flew into Simon's office without bothering to knock. H and Megan were right behind him, curious as to what had sent the normally implacable Rafe flying into the Captain's office.

"Where?"

"Jack Kelso just called. He said there is a place in the mountains about two hours north of here. There's been a lot of activity at that location starting about a week ago. He believes Jim's being held there. He gave me the directions."

Simon smiled, immediately taking charge. "It's about time. Everyone load up. Brown, break out the flak jackets. Rafe, head down to SWAT, see if we can borrow some extra firepower. I'm not waiting on this. We get Jim back first and deal with the consequences later. Everyone meet in the garage in fifteen minutes. No longer or we leave without you."

Rafe and Brown grinned as they hurried from Simon's office. They had never seen this rebel side of their 'by the book' Captain. It was a wonderful sight to behold.

"What about Blair?" Megan asked.

Simon paused, weighing the consequence of his decision. "No, leave him out of this for now. I don't want to get his hopes up and then have it all crash down around him. Let him rest. If-- When we do get Jim back, he's gonna need Blair to pick up the pieces."

"Do you really think Jim is still alive?"

"I believe he's still alive, but I'm not as sure about his mental state. I'm going to give Joel a call. He made me promise to keep him informed. It was the only way I could keep him from coming here."

"He has another four weeks on sick leave, right?"

"Yes, those uniforms really did a number on him. Part of me thinks they died too easily for what they did."

"Captain?"

"Bigots are the worst type of criminals. They are cowards and generally attack in groups, which maximizes the damage to their victims."

Fourteen minutes later, they were gathered in the garage, waiting for Rafe to appear. The squeal of spinning tires drew their attention as the SWAT van pulled up beside them. Rafe climbed out of the back with a big grin, followed closely by Captain Allen, head of the SWAT team.

"Rafe! I asked for firepower, not the entire unit," Simon yelled, pointing at the van.

"You're going after Ellison, right?" Captain Allen questioned confidently.

Simon sighed deeply. "Yes, but this is an unsanctioned operation, Captain Allen. We may not have jobs after this is over."

"Then they'll have to fire all of SWAT as well as Major Crime, Captain Banks. Probably Vice and Narcotics as well. Ellison has a lot of friends in this department, so does Sandburg. We know what we're getting into."

Five members of the SWAT team were now standing behind their Captain, all smiling, confirming Captain Allen's words. "Our next shift is coming in early and the Major Crime bullpen is being staffed with off-duty detectives from both Vice and Narcotics as we speak. So what are we waiting for?"

"Not a thing. Rafe, you're up front. Take us to Jim. Everyone else, climb in the back."

The General stared through the observation glass at the broken man who lay curled into a tight ball in the far corner of the room. The sight disgusted him. He had risked his career for this. He had been so sure of his plan. Ellison had been an outstanding soldier, devoted to duty. He should have accepted his re-activation into Black Ops, yet he had fought them at every turn. What had happened to the man's sense of duty?

So far, the experiment had been an utter failure. The few simple tests they had succeeded in running were inconclusive. There was no doubt that his senses were heightened, but his control over them was nonexistent.

The Chief Doctor suspected the lack of control was the result of the drugs in Ellison's system, but he wasn't positive. Stopping the drugs to determine if his assumption was correct was not an option. Because Ellison refused to cooperate, the drugs were necessary to control his behavior. Even being restrained in the straitjacket hadn't kept him from attacking the guards and doctors at every opportunity. He clearly hadn't forgotten any of his previous training.

His attention was drawn back to the cell. At least Ellison had finally stopped screaming, but this incessant rocking behavior was unnerving. The ultrasonic whistles had been halted almost ninety minutes ago. Ellison should have regained control of himself by now.

The General sighed as he continued to observe Ellison. At least, this reaction wasn't as bad as what had occurred when they had run tests on his eyesight. They had accidentally over stimulated the Sentinel's eyes. Ellison wasn't faking it as a ploy; the Doctor confirmed he was truly blind. The problem was none of the doctors could figure out why he was blind. There was no physical damage to his eyes that they could find.

At the conclusion of this last round of tests, the doctor had requested that Blair Sandburg be brought to the facility. Sandburg had been studying and working with Ellison's abilities for years. A review of Sandburg's so-called fraudulent dissertation had uncovered a few vague references to allergies, but nothing definitive. The Doctor suspected Sandburg had more data hidden away someplace. His school records and grant proposals indicated he was too good a scientist to be lacking so much documentation.

The psychiatrist assigned to the project had studied the two men's files. He had concluded Sandburg was tremendously loyal to Ellison. His kind nature would make him incapable of leaving Ellison in this condition, even if it meant helping 'the enemy' which is how he was sure to perceive the actions of the group.

Even if the psychiatrist was wrong and he refused to voluntarily cooperate, there were other means of gaining the information from Sandburg. He hadn't had the anti-terrorist training Ellison had received. The General had approved the request to relocate the man to the facility a few minutes ago.

Two orderlies were moving towards Ellison. He was to be returned to his cell. They needed to set the examination room up for the next round of experiments. They were going to focus on touch next, specifically how much pain could a Sentinel endure.

Ellison didn't seem to notice the two orderlies. He was too weak to fight them. He hadn't eaten in several days, nothing they fed him would stay in his system. He had noticeably lost weight. He didn't even move as he was picked up off the floor. The two orderlies were attempting to place him on the gurney when sirens started to blare.

The General could hear automatic weapons being fired out in the hallway. The compound was being invaded. The wall behind him imploded, shooting debris in all directions. The General was knocked to the ground by the shock wave. He managed to reach his knees before realizing he was surrounded.

Men dressed in black encircled him. Through the one-way mirror, he could see the orderlies in charge of Ellison being overpowered as well. He raised his hands in surrender. The project was over. His failure was now complete. He wondered if his superiors would help or disavow him.

The sound of a single shot echoing through the compound was his answer.

The SWAT van pulled off the main highway onto the dirt road indicated by Kelso's directions. A few minutes later, Rafe called into the back of the van, "Simon, you've got to see this."

The van had stopped in front of the gate protecting the compound. Looking at all the damage, the driver shook his head before saying, "Someone else got here first. The assault on the compound was from the outside. Even Ellison couldn't have caused this much damage alone."

Simon agreed with the assessment. They had arrived too late. "We still need to check it out. Watch yourselves, people. There's no way to tell for sure how long ago this happened; there may be survivors inside," he ordered.

The warning was not necessary. There was no one left alive in the building. The computers had been destroyed along with the video cameras. There was no sign of any hardcopy files remaining in the facility.

The bodies were all wearing either Army uniforms or were dressed in lab coats. Most of them had gone down during the firefight, but several of them had clearly been executed, including a General. Judging from the appearance of the bodies, the attack had probably occurred a few hours ago.

No evidence remained to reveal the identity of those who had raided the compound. It was possible a forensics team might find something, but that was not an option in this case.

Simon moved from room to room, hoping for some clue as to what had happened here. He was sure Jim had been held in this compound. What equipment they could identify was oriented around examining a person's senses.

The remains of the straitjacket and ankle cuffs told him more than he wanted to know about what had been occurring to Jim here. Even if they found Jim now, the damage may be irreparable. Ellison was the strongest man he knew, but everyone had a breaking point. He could only wonder if Ellison had reached his.

Flashing lights and sirens attracted everyone's attention back outside. Weapons were quickly readied. They hadn't called for backup, so who was approaching the compound?

The line of vehicles quickly reached the facilities gates. No one was surprised to see an Army General step out of the first vehicle. The two police Captains moved forward to meet the military.

"I'm General Fox. What the hell has happened here!"

"We're not sure. We were investigating a report that a missing Cascade PD detective was being held here, but someone did this before we arrived. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?" Simon asked sarcastically.

Fox glowered at the indirect accusation. "This is a government security facility. Your detective is obviously not here. You will leave the grounds immediately. This is a military investigation now."

Simon glared at the officer, not backing down an inch. He watched the General swallow nervously. "I will find my detective. And if I find out that you knew what was going on here, you'll hear from me again," Simon warned. He didn't wait for a response. He signaled his people it was time to leave.

The officers from Cascade pulled out onto the road, not bothering to look back. The Army soldiers were securing the compound.

General Fox studied the total destruction of the buildings and people who had been working here only hours ago. He turned to his aide and muttered angrily, "Well, Cascade PD doesn't have him and we don't have him. So who does?"

The trip back to Cascade seemed to take twice as long. It was a very disheartened group of detectives who entered the bullpen that evening. Simon headed straight into his office.

"God damn it, I hate this Covert Ops shit. I need a scorecard to tell who all the players are," Simon muttered, slamming his hand down on his desk.

Megan knocked quietly on the door. "We need to tell Blair what happened," she said, attempting to divert Simon's frustration before he hurt himself or someone else.

Simon nodded, pacing back and forth in front of the window looking over the bullpen. "I'll stop by the loft on my way home. This isn't something I can tell him over the phone. He is going to be pissed as hell we didn't tell him about the raid. I don't know how he'll handle the news we've lost our only lead."

"Captain, you shouldn't do this alone. You're hurting as much as Blair."

"We're all hurting, Megan. Look around you." Brown was sitting in his chair staring blankly at the wall. His posture was slumped, defeated. Rafe was next to him, whispering something. One of his hands was resting on his partner's knees.

"This unit is more like a family then a workplace. None of us are handling this well." Megan said thoughtfully. "Let's go tell Blair what we know. I'll come with you."

The door to the loft was open when they had arrived. Weapons drawn, they entered the room. The two uniforms assigned to protect Blair were both unconscious on the floor of the living room. There was no sign of Sandburg, but the destruction in his room indicated he hadn't gone voluntarily.

Simon and Megan's eyes met. Both had the same horrible thought. Blair had been their ace in the hole. They had hoped to catch part of the group when they came after him. Now they doubted if they would see either of their friends again.

Blair moved listlessly around the loft. He hadn't been able to eat or sleep. On the rare occasion he did sleep, his dreams were haunted by the image of a Black Panther trapped in a small cage. Faceless men were tormenting the seriously injured animal.

He knew he was making Rogers and Burns, his current guards, nervous with his pacing, but he couldn't sleep. He made himself a cup of tea. With a little wave, he headed back to his room. He lay down on the bed and put on his earphones. Maybe his meditation music would relax him enough to sleep.

He didn't hear the men when they broke into the loft. He didn't hear them take out the two uniforms. The first indication of trouble was when two men burst through the French doors, knocking them off the hinges.

Blair scrambled off the bed, throwing his hot tea at his attackers. They were wearing masks, but it did generate a painful distraction. He picked up the chair from his desk and broke it against one of the assailants. He shoved the other thug against the shelves on his wall. As the shelves fell, several heavy books landed heavily on the man's head. Blair burst through the broken doors, only to be thrown to the floor by a third man who had been tying up the two uniformed officers.

Blair found himself pinned to the floor by the much larger man. He yelled and squirmed as he felt his sleeve being rolled up. The needle entered his arm. He moaned at the burning sensation travelling up his arm before losing consciousness. His last thought, before the darkness overcame him, was he hoped that he was being taken to Jim.

William and Steven Ellison could only stand by and stare at Jim as he lay non-responsive on the bed. His right arm was in a sling. Other than the dark bruises on the right side of his face, he was as pale as the sheets he rested upon. Every muscle in his body was clenched tight, as if rigor mortis had already set in. His breathing was shallow and quick. It appeared to the two men that even breathing was resulting in additional pain. If it wasn't for the steady beat of the heart monitor, it was hard to tell he was still alive.

"The muscle damage from the dislocated shoulder has been repaired and the IV's will help with the dehydration, but he isn't any closer to consciousness. The doctor says this condition is probably permanent and that he should be placed in a long term care facility," William said, lightly touching his son's icy forehead.

"The doctors here don't understand what they are dealing with. They're treating him as if he was a normal patient, not as a Sentinel, Father," Steven corrected. He had an idea about how to help Jim. Now he had to convince his father to accept it.

"What are you saying?"

"If you read Burton's research on Sentinels, it explains that the Sentinel needs a guide. Someone to watch his back and ground him, to keep him from being overloaded. I believe Jim's guide is Blair Sandburg."

William stiffened at the name, Blair Sandburg. He knew and hated the young man who had thrown his elder son's freakish abilities into the spotlight. William had worked for years to make sure only a select few knew what James was capable of doing.

"Jim is lost inside himself because Blair isn't here to help him. Jim couldn't cope with what those military morons were doing to him and they didn't understand what they were dealing with. Father, Blair is the only one who has a chance of reaching him now."

William Ellison's face turned bright red as he unleashed his growing anger on his second son. "I do not want that little hippie Jew, near my son. It is his fault my son is in this position. I had those freakish abilities gone when Jim was a child. Sandburg is the one who encouraged James to use them again. Sandburg is the one who allowed the press to discover his work."

Steven tried to remain calm. He had to convince his father he was right and getting angry would not help the situation. "No, Sir. That's not true. The abilities returned without control during a case. Jim voluntarily went to a doctor for help when it started. Do you know how unlike Jim that is?"

"I raised him to stand on his own two feet. He forgot everything I tried to teach him when he left home. James panicked. He was too weak to deal with the situation himself."

"The only thing Jim would say about that time in his life was that he thought he was going mad. He said Blair kept that from happening, gave him control again. He is our only chance, he saved him once before..." Steven's voice broke. He didn't know what else he could say to convince his father, if anything he said would matter to the man.

"I didn't send the Black Knights on this raid to save him. This was never about saving your brother. We could not allow the Military to disobey our directive. Our power is threatened by any display of weakness."

William moved away from the bed, putting distance physically and mentally between himself and his oldest child. "Besides, I'm not sure he's worth saving. James has been nothing but a problem ever since his mother left us. She made him weak, and nothing I did could undo her damage."

"That's not true, Father. Jim was stronger than you'll ever understand. He protected all..."

William Ellison shoved Steven against the wall. "Don't argue with me. He was WEAK! He should have taken his punishment like a man instead of turning his back on us. Gone to Yale like I had arranged for him after military school. Instead he chose to enlist in the army without my permission."

Steven moved to stand in front of Jim. "He didn't need your permission. First, you say you want a strong-minded son. Then you object when he asserts his independence. You can't have it both ways, Father."

William was lost in his tirade and didn't hear a word Steven said. "After he resigned his commission, I offered him a position in the family business. He would have been invited into the Order, instead he attends the police academy. I always thought he would come back to me, but he never did. Now it's too late."

"Father, it's never too late. I still care about him even if you don't. He's my brother. Please, Father. Let me bring Blair here. Let me try to convince them about what the Order is about. You have to admit, Hale left a bad impression of our organization and having a Sentinel in the ranks of the Black Knights would be to our advantage."

"I always planned for James to become a member of the Green knights, but with his training he would be an asset to the Black Order."

William gazed down upon his oldest child's face. The pain was clearly visible in every line, in every muscle of his son's face. For perhaps the first time in his life, he felt something for his child. He couldn't condemn him to this horrible fate, no matter what problems he had with his son's choices.

"You have my permission to find Sandburg and bring him here. But he is not to know where he is or who we are, not until he proves he can help. Do you understand?"

Steven nodded. His men were ready to move. This had to work. He wouldn't lose his brother again. Steven made the call from his cell phone. He sat down on the edge of his brother's bed.

"Hold on a little longer, big brother. Blair's coming. Everything's going to be all right now."

Steven thought he saw a small reaction when he had spoken Blair's name, but he wasn't sure. All he could do now was wait.

Blair awoke to find himself being transported somewhere by boat. The rocking motion was easy to identify. They had a hood over his head so he couldn't see where they were heading.

The boat came to a stop. He feigned unconsciousness as his captors manhandled him from the boat. He could feel them climbing several sets of stairs. The echoes told him they were moving him down a long hallway. The two men who were carrying him dropped him onto the floor. With his hands and legs still slow to respond from the drug, he landed awkwardly on the hard floor. He couldn't stop a moan from escaping.

"You were ordered not to hurt him!" A man in the green cloak exclaimed, as he pulled the hood away from Sandburg's head. "Remove those ropes."

"He fought us pretty hard before we could get him knocked out," one of the men explained as he cut the rope holding Blair's wrists together.

Sandburg couldn't see. The bright lights hurt his eyes after being blindfolded for so long, but even in his dazed state he thought he recognized the voice. He just couldn't place it.

"Bring him." Strong hands grabbed him by the arms and dragged him to his feet. "Gently!" the man ordered, mysteriously.

The hands were more supportive than confining as they led him through a maze of hallways. Even if he could see straight, he'd never find his way back to the entrance. Finally, the men pushed him into a room and locked the door. Frustrated, he pounded on it, yelling "WHY!"

He backed away from the door. Then, he heard it. The familiar sound of a heart monitor beating softly in the background. The far side of the room was set up like a hospital CCU. The man lying on the bed was very familiar to him.

"Oh God, Jim! What have they done to you?"

Simon was standing in the interrogation room facing an arrogant Franklin Welk. Sitting next to him was one of the slimiest attorneys he had ever seen. Welk had been arrested on a disturbing the peace and assault charges. Simon knew he was grasping at straws, but he wasn't sure what else to do.

"I'm not sure I understand why I'm here. Why is Major Crime investigating a simple assault charge?" Welk asked as he puffed on a cigarette.

"We just have a couple of routine questions. You've been asking a lot of questions about one of my detectives, James Ellison. I'd like to know why."

"I was interested in offering him a job. Surely, I'm entitled to check out his character, an off the record reference check."

"I happen to know he turned down your job offer. What do you know about his disappearance?"

"Are you accusing my client?" The lawyer asked.

"Your client is considered a suspect, but that's all," Simon said to the lawyer before facing Welk again. "What do you know about the Royal Order of Knights?"

Welk shifted nervously in his chair, pulling at his collar. "Never heard of them."

"I think you're lying, Mr. Welk." Simon leaned over the man, using his size to intimidate the man.

"So I've heard of them. That's not a crime. But I'm not with them. They want nothing to do with me."

"What do they want with Ellison?"

"I don't know. The word is the Order is very interested in your detective and equally determined to make him off limits to everyone else. I haven't been able to find out why."

"How do I get in touch with them?"

"You don't. They get in touch with you, but only if they're interested in what you can do for them."

Simon realized that this was a waste of time. Welk didn't know anything.

"I have some friendly advice for you. I suggest you quit asking questions about James Ellison or you won't like the consequences," Simon stated firmly before leaving the room. Another dead- end. How was he going to find his friends now?

Blair was examining his friend when a man in a green cloak entered the room, carrying a tray of food. He set the tray down on the table and turned to stare at the bed. "Can you help him?" he asked.

Blair glared up at the man, hatred audible in his voice as he answered, "Why should I? Maybe he's better off like this, than being your guinea pig."

Blair didn't believe that, but he didn't want to cooperate with these people. "How could you do this to him?" he continued angrily, looking up from his partner's bedside.

"We did nothing to him, Blair. We rescued him yesterday from the government lab. He had a dislocated shoulder, probably from fighting the straitjacket." Blair flinched upon hearing the explanation. "He hadn't had food in several days and was severely dehydrated. The more our doctor tried to treat him, the worse Jim got."

"Jim doesn't respond well to medication," Blair said.

"Our doctor can't help him, but I was hoping you could." The man lowered the hood and faced Blair. Steven Ellison stood there with a tear running down his face. "I'm praying that you can bring my brother back to us."

Blair's eyes widened in disbelief. "Steven, you're a part of this. I don't believe it. How could you?"

"It's not what you think, Blair. I swear. I'll explain it all to you later, first, we need to help Jim."

Blair looked down at his battered Sentinel, at the best friend he had ever had. He could put aside his anger, for now. "Do you have any idea what they did to him? I need to know exactly what happened if I'm going to be able to help him."

"The team that broke him out of there confiscated all the records. I'll make sure they're brought here immediately. Blair, what they did to him. It's pretty ugly. I couldn't watch most of it."

Blair nodded before answering, "I still need to know."

"Anything else?" Steven asked, tentatively.

"Yeah, I need another set of bed sheets, preferably silk, washed first in the mildest soap you can find. Do the same with his clothes. Also, bring me a couple of vanilla scented candles and a basin of hot water with a soft towel as soon as you can. I don't suppose you have a white noise generator lying around? If Jim's got no control over the dials, it would be helpful."

"I think we have one of those around here someplace."

Blair couldn't think of anything else right now. "Can you arrange all that?"

"Not a problem, Blair."

"Steven, are you in charge around here? What does the Leader think of all this?" Blair had to know if this was an out of the frying pan and into the fire situation before he would cooperate completely.

Steven had started to leave, but that question stopped him at the door. "Blair, you can't tell anyone I told you who I was." Steven paused, taking a giant step off a large cliff, trusting Jim's choice of guide was a good one. "Or that I told you the Leader of the West Coast Round Table and the owner of this place is my father. You and Jim are safe here. I swear it. When the time comes, you will be free to leave if you choose. I know this is very confusing. I promise I'll..."

"...explain later. I know, Steven. You know, it's gonna take you days to explain all this," Blair interrupted with a grin. The news that Jim's father was in charge around here was something Blair would deal with later. He gestured Steven to move out the door. He needed to get Jim more comfortable before trying to get him out of the zone.

Steven returned the grin and pulled up his hood, locking the door behind him.

"Time to get to work, Jim. Let's find out just how deep in this zone out you really are."

Ten minutes later the door opened again. Two men in green wheeled in a small TV/VCR combination unit. Also on the cart were several boxes containing reports, audio and video tapes. There was a tape in the VCR already. A third man put a basin of hot water next to the bed along with several towels.

As soon as they left, Blair took a deep breath and turned on the unit, pressing the play button. He spent the next hour watching what those 'scientists' had done to his partner as he tenderly washed away the sweat and some of the discomfort with the hot water. Thank god, there was no sound on the tapes. It was hard enough to watch, without also having to hear Jim's reactions. He was nauseous. Tears clouded his vision. How could any human being treat anyone like those men had treated Jim?

He didn't notice when Steven walked in carrying the requested items. Steve took one look at his face and turned off the VCR. "I think you've seen enough, Blair. I've brought everything you requested."

Blair wiped his eyes. It was time for action. The first thing he did was light two of the candles. The sooner Jim had a pleasant scent to focus on, the better. "Steven, would you help me with the bedding, it's gonna take two of us to do this without hurting him."

Following Blair's patient directions, the two men had quickly removed the over-starched cotton sheets from the bed and replaced them with the soft silk. Blair sat down on the bed and watched his partner for a moment, then smiled brilliantly at the immediate response Jim displayed.

Steven was puzzled; he didn't see why Blair was so suddenly happy. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Look at him closely, Steve. Tell me what you see."

Steven did as he was instructed. The most obvious improvement was every muscle in Jim's body was relaxed. The tension, the rigor mortis was gone. His breathing was slower and much deeper. He appeared to be sleeping, rather than being lost in that catatonic state. His face was peaceful, turned towards them now. He looked much younger than forty. Steven dropped into the chair next to the bed. "How? It didn't seem like we did that much."

"Steven, you couldn't understand just how badly the wrong environment can hurt him. He's a very special person, with unique abilities."

"I know how special he is, Blair. I've always known. But until I saw your press conference, I didn't know what to call his gifts."

Blair couldn't believe his ears. An Ellison using the 'g' word in relation to Jim's abilities. All the anger he had suppressed up to now broke through his careful control. "His gifts! His GIFTS! Did you ever tell him that? Did you know he felt for years like he was a freak!" Blair asked angrily.

"I heard Father call him that, after his friend Bud died. When Father sent Jim to his room, I sneaked in there. I tried to tell Jim that I believed him, but he wouldn't answer me, refused to speak at all. Later, he said I should never mention it again or Father would get extremely mad at me." Steven shrugged, slightly embarrassed by what he had allowed to happen. "I was a kid, Blair. I didn't know what it all truly meant."

"Sorry, Steven. I know that, but you don't understand just how hurt he was by that little comment. It's a deep wound that's never really healed," Blair responded, rubbing his hand over his face.

"I understand deep wounds too, you know. When we were kids, I noticed these things." Steven said, defensively. "I'd watch him sometimes, like when Father was on the phone with Mom. He'd tilt his head and tell me to be quiet. Sometimes he would tell me what they said, if it was something good. If the news was bad, he'd never say a word."

Other memories from their childhood were flashing back to Steven. "He always knew when I had a nightmare. I'd be there in bed, hiding under the covers. Trying not to scream or cry, Father would get angry if I did. Father would never come; he said I had to quit acting like a baby. But, Jim always did. He'd stay until I went back asleep, before heading for his own room again."

"He does that for me now," Blair said with a smile.

"Wonderful feeling, isn't it? Knowing he's around to protect you." Steven's expression was mischievous. Blair often saw the same look on Jim's face. "He always seemed to know when Father or Sally was coming to check up on us, when we were up to something. When I was a kid, I loved having him as my big brother."

"So what happened? What went so wrong between the two of you?"

"When I was a teenager, this green-eyed monster took control. I was so jealous of him. Everything seemed to come so easy to him. Captain of the football team, girls just loved him and he always got A's at school. Father had us competing for every scrap of attention." Steven stared at his shoes. "I just couldn't compete on an even playing field. So I cheated. I smashed up the car and made sure Jim got the blame. I swear I never thought Father would send him away to military school."

"Why didn't you tell your father what actually happened?"

"I did. The night before Jim was supposed to leave. I told him, but it was too late."

"He didn't believe you."

"No, I guess he thought I just didn't want Jim to leave. I sent Jim a couple of letters, but they were always returned. I found out later, my father had ordered that he be given no privileges, no mail, no phone calls and no visitation."

"What about later, when Jim was in the army?"

"I tried to send him mail, but he was always reassigned before my letters could catch up with him. I still have them. Couldn't bring myself to throw them away, especially after the army reported he had been killed in Peru. I went to the memorial service they held for him. I have the flag from his coffin. Father refused to attend."

"What about after Peru, when he was rescued? You could have seen him then."

"I couldn't face him. Everything that happened was my fault. If I hadn't been so stupid, he would have graduated from Cascade High School instead of that military school. He would have gone to college just like he had always planned. Instead he spent his senior year in isolation because of my father's punishment. Instead of coming home, he joined the army and got to spend eighteen months alone in the jungle after watching all his men die."

"Steven, it wasn't your fault."

"I should have done something. I've kept close track of him though, his accomplishments. He didn't know it, but I attended his wedding. Sat way in the back. I thought things would get better after we met up again at the racetrack, but we never seriously talked. I wanted to apologize, but the words wouldn't come out. We just drifted apart again."

Blair rolled his eyes, whapping Steven in the arm, hard.

"Hey! What was that for!" Steven asked, rubbing his arm. He was sure it would bruise nicely.

"What is it with you Ellisons and the guilt trips you guys are so determined to inflict on yourselves. I thought it was a Jim thing. Turns out to be a Ellison genetic trait," Blair explained, exasperated with both of the brothers.

"So teach him," a shaky voice whispered from the bed, "like you're trying to teach me, Chief,"

"Jim, JIM! You're awake. How long have you been awake? Do you have any idea how much you scared me? Never mind, how are your senses? Is everything back on line?" Blair knew he was babbling, but he didn't care. Jim was awake. Everything was going to be all right now.

"I'll leave you two alone," Steven said sadly as he started to get up to leave the two men to their reunion.

Jim became very agitated as his brother was speaking. "NO, Stevie, don't go. I could hear all along. I heard every word. Need you to stay. Need to make things right!" Jim cried out as he waved a hand in the direction of his brother's voice. Blair gasped as he realized that things were not okay. Jim's senses were not back online. In fact, it appeared that Jim was blind.

"Easy, Jim," Blair instructed. "Steven's not going anywhere." He glared at Steven, freezing him halfway out of the chair.

"Not going anywhere, big brother, so you just relax," Steven answered, grabbing Jim's wavering hand, gripping it tightly as he sat back down.

"Not your fault, Stevie. You tried. I know, I remember." Jim was muttering, holding on just as tight to his brother's hand.

Blair waited until Jim had settled down again. "Big guy, I need to know what's going on here. Tell me what your senses are doing," Blair appealed, needing to know exactly what his Sentinel was experiencing.

"Hearing is normal, not enhanced, sight is completely offline. Smell seems normal. I like the vanilla. My hands and feet are numb, but everything else is checking in okay, lots of aches though. Can't tell about taste," Jim explained his voice getting raspier the longer he spoke. "Need water."

"I'll get it," Stephen offered, rising from the bed. At his brother's quiet whimper, he turned back around. "I'll be right back. I'm not going away, not ever again." He waited until he saw Blair nod permission before leaving the room.

"Can you see the dials, buddy?"

"No, can't! Smashed them. Wouldn't work for me without you there. Tried to shut them off, but it was too much," Jim said, growing more agitated with each word. He reached out again. Since he couldn't hear Blair's heartbeat, he needed physical contact. He needed to know that this was real and not another pain-induced hallucination. "Blair?" He called out desperately.

Blair shifted on the bed, trying to keep Jim from moving around too much. He reached for Jim's fingers. "Right here. I'm real. You're safe now."

"Where are we? This doesn't feel like Cascade General."

"It's not. We're the guests of the Royal Order of Knights."

"We're not safe, then."

"Actually, Jim. I believe we are."

"I don't understand."

"Boy, have I got a story to tell you."

By the time Steven got back with the glass and a pitcher of ice water, Jim had fallen back to sleep again.

Blair watched as Steven put down the water. He gazed at his brother face for a brief moment, before starting to make his escape. "Steven Ellison!" Blair said firmly, waiting until the man faced him before speaking again. In his best Ricky Ricardo imitation he said, "Lucy, you have some 'splaining to do."

Steven looked at the pretended stern expression and chuckled, "I know. Is now a good time for you?"

Blair nodded, "I'll cancel my afternoon appointments." Blair pointed to the chair across from him. "Sit there, so Jim will know you are still here. How did you get involved in this, Steven?"

"My father didn't recruit me, if that's what you were thinking. I hadn't seen my father in years, not until I was elected to the West Coast Round Table. I left home as soon as I turned eighteen."

"You're telling me he had nothing to do with your rise in the Order," Blair asked in disbelief.

"No, it's forbidden by the laws of the Order. None of the members of a higher round table have any knowledge or input into who is even being considered for nomination to a lower table. The twelve members of the table are the ones with power to remove the leader from office."

"So how did you wind up joining? I thought you were smarter than this, Steve."

Before answering, Steven glanced around the room nervously. Blair was surprised to see him reach over and turn on the white noise generator.

"Now we can talk without anyone overhearing. I was recruited by one of my professors when I was working on my MBA. My mentor is part of a movement to reform the Order. There are those of us who believe the old ways of discrimination and prejudice are no longer the way to be. There are more of us being recruited into the Order every day in all the branches but one. We haven't been successful with getting people into the Black Knights."

"Which is where you would need allies if you wanted to stage a coup."

"Yes, votes of confidence are difficult to win unless all four branches agree for the change."

Steven shifted nervously in the chair. "Before we go any further, you need to know something. I ran into my father out in the hall when I was getting the water, which is why it took so long. He knows that Jim is awake."

"That's all right. I'd like to have a few words with the man myself."

"You don't understand. He's gonna come in here sooner or later to demand that Jim join the Black Knights. Blair, I know this sounds unbelievable, but I want the two of you to seriously consider it. I know the two of you are a package deal."

"What, the Order wouldn't object to a Jew joining their group?" Blair sneered.

"If it did, we would lose almost a third of the Green and Red knights," Steven replied.

"I can't believe you want Jim to become one of those Black Knights. We have already witnessed their form of justice. They are thugs and assassins. It would kill Jim inside to become one of them," Blair answered.

"That is why the group has to change. We need men like Jim to do that. Men like my father are the old guards with old ideas. For now, they are still in control, but change is coming to the Order."

"Steven, what you're attempting to do is very dangerous. Those already in power aren't gonna give in without a fight."

"Something has to be done. The group has been in existence too long and has too much power to just fade away or allow anyone on the outside to take us down. Change is going to have to come from within."

The anthropologist with the pysch minor understood what Steven was saying and agreed. The cop in him hated the idea. He didn't want either Jim or Steven involved in this. "I'll talk to Jim. I won't make any promises though. You are asking a lot and, truthfully, I don't know how I feel about this situation."

"I understand, Blair. I'm only asking that you guys think about it."

Their conversation was interrupted as the sleeping man awakened with a plaintive call for his partner. He still couldn't hear at his heightened level or see at all.

"We're right here, Jim, both Steven and I. How are you feeling?"

"Everything is still out of whack," Jim groaned, rubbing his head

"I have a few ideas about how to get you back online, when you're feeling up to it," Blair said comfortingly.

"Now, Chief. I can't stand being like this," Jim said as he struggled to sit up.

Steven used the controls to raise the head of the bed before asking, "Is it all right if I stay?"

"It's okay with me, but it's Jim's decision."

"Stay, Stevie. We've lost too much time as it is."

"Okay Jim, you said all the dials are smashed, is that still true?" Blair asked, getting down to business.

"Yes, I've tried, but nothing works."

"That's okay, Jim. Actually, nobody uses dials anymore. This is the twenty-first century. The world has moved on, it's about time you did too," Blair teased.

Jim grinned. "You're scaring me, Darwin." Blair could always make him feel better.

"Don't worry, buddy. What I have in mind is right up your alley. You know that new top of the line stereo you bought with your last tax refund, the one with all those nice sliders to control every feature under the sun? The one you wouldn't let me touch unless you were standing right beside me."

Steven chuckled with each sentence Blair added to the description.

"I get the picture, Chief. What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to picture five of those sliders, one for each of your senses. They are all set at zero, because everything is offline. Got it?"

"Sort of," Jim said, frowning as he concentrated.

"Sort of. Could you be a little clearer for me here? I understood you, of course. Steve is looking a little confused," Blair responded flippantly, staring at the ceiling.

"When I concentrated, six of them appeared instead of five, all set at zero," Jim explained, also a little confused at what his subconscious just did to him. "The last one is labeled with a six."

Blair had a pretty good idea about the function of that one, but Jim wouldn't be happy about it. "Don't worry about that one for now. Let's work on the other five, okay?"

For the next two hours, Steven watched and learned exactly what a Guide did for his Sentinel. Using only verbal cues and a series of simple exercises, they managed to get four of his five senses back to what was normal for a Sentinel. Nothing they did could get Jim's eyesight working though. Jim tried to explain what was happening when he tried to move the slider from zero. He could sense it was stuck or jammed, but not why. Blair called a halt to the session. He could see a headache gaining strength behind his partner's eyes.

Steven didn't say a word, not until Jim had fallen back to sleep again. "Blair, do you have any idea what the problem is. Why can't he see?"

"I'm pretty sure I know the cause, just not sure what to do about it. Jim's experienced problems before under tremendous emotional stress. I think he's choosing not to see, but what the trigger was I don't know. At first, I thought it was because of the experiments Black Ops was running on him."

"But, if that was true, shouldn't they have returned by now?"

"I know, something else is causing this." Blair started to ramble, thinking out loud, hoping something would come to him. "He said he could hear, but why hearing and not sight."

Steven was thinking about Blair's explanation that Jim was subconsciously choosing not to see, coupled with 'he said he could hear'. "Blair, you're wrong. That's not what he said. Jim said 'I could hear all along. I heard every word'."

"Close enough," Blair replied, but Steven clearly didn't agree. "What are you getting at, Steve?"

"When Jim was first brought here, Father and I were talking in this room. We didn't know he could hear us. Father said some very hateful things. Some of it was about you, which was bad enough, but mostly he said cruel things about Jim and the choices he's made in his life. I think it's Father he's afraid to face."

"How cruel?"

"If I had a gun, I would have killed the man myself. He questioned whether or not Jim was worth saving. I'm not sure how this helps us. It doesn't tell us what we can do to fix this."

"You said Jim's father was going to talk to him about joining the Black Knights?" Steven nodded, not seeing where Blair was heading with that question. "When Jim wakes, go get your father. Your brother will have to face his feelings about William Ellison if he's ever going to see again."

When Jim woke from his nap, the three men enjoyed a quiet dinner together. The Ellison brothers shared a few very happy childhood memories with Blair. Blair, ever the student of human nature, quickly noticed that both men referred to William Ellison as Father. But their mother was always referred to as Mom, which told him a lot about how they were brought up and raised even more questions about exactly what had happened to Grace Ellison.

Not long after they had finished, William Ellison strode into the room. "I'd like to talk to James. In private," he added with a glare at Sandburg.

Steven handled the situation with tact and diplomacy that clearly didn't come from his father. "Blair, come with me. There's some place here I'd like you to see."

Blair didn't argue. "Listen to what he has to say, Jim. I'll be back in an hour," he said, holding onto one of Jim's shoulders. He waited until Jim agreed before letting go and following Steven out of the room.

Side-by-side, the two men moved down the hallway. "I can't let you see outside, Blair. I'm sorry, but I can't let you know where this sanctuary is."

"I understand, Steve. So where are we going?"

Steven just smiled and said mysteriously, "Come with me. I think you'll like this."

Puzzled, Blair followed Steven out of the room and down the hall. He quickly lost track of all the turns they had made, but finally his guide stepped through an archway and stopped.

"What do you think?" Steven said with a smile.

It was an indoor garden. In the center was a giant oak tree that reached upwards to the sky. The ceiling was made of glass, allowing the sun to shine on the plants growing in the garden. Each of the four corners of the courtyard held a small rose garden. The pathways were covered in wood chips. It was beautiful and tranquil.

"We need to bring Jim here. It's wonderful," Blair replied. He sat down under the oak tree and closed his eyes. He heard Steven move over to one of the rose gardens and sit down on one of the benches.

"This is the place I feel closest to our mother. Did Jim ever tell you she had a garden just like this at the house where we grew up?"

"No, he doesn't talk about your mom."

"I'm not surprised. This is almost an exact duplication of her garden, as much as I could remember. This is also the only place where we can talk freely."

"The rooms are bugged?"

"Monitored for sound only. This is the only room that isn't monitored. Sometimes a little privacy is necessary even in the Order."

"Steven, how can you live like this?"

"I want to change it. A little hardship is worth it to me. We're trying to make a difference."

"I can't promise you that we'll join. But, I do promise I will talk to Jim seriously about it. Are you free to come and go as you please around here?"

"Within reason. Why?"

"Just wondered if you'd like to come to the loft for dinner. We can talk. You and Jim can catch up on all you've missed."

"I'd like that, Blair."

Blair settled down under the oak tree and closed his eyes. This was the perfect place to meditate.

Fifteen minutes later, his eyes flew open and he jumped to his feet. "We need to get to Jim," he said to Steven. "Something is very wrong. He needs me. I can't explain..."

"No explanations required, let's go."

"I want to talk to you about something important, James." Jim listened to his father speak as William sat down in the chair by the bed. "I want you to consider becoming a member of the Order."

"Father, I've never been a joiner. It's not my way."

"I'm offering you a great opportunity. The least you could do is be quiet and hear me out."

"This isn't the right opportunity for me."

"So what is right for you? You don't want money, power, the opportunity to determine the direction this country takes. I'm offering you the opportunity of a lifetime."

"No, Father, those things aren't important to me. They're important to you. You're the one who's been declared the West Coast King Arthur?"

"I'm the elected leader of the Round Table. Don't mock me, boy. I'm still your father," William Ellison ordered.

"But you don't want me to be your son. I heard you talking to Steven before. You don't want me to be who I want to be. You want me to be a little carbon-copy of you who runs around obeying your every whim."

"That's ridiculous. When you were younger, you obeyed my rules. You respected me."

"I feared you. It's not the same. No matter what I did, it was never good enough for you."

"I wanted you to be the best."

"You sent me away. How did that help me to be the best?"

"You have never forgiven me for sending you away to military school, have you? Don't you understand? You needed to learn how to deal with punishment? It was my job to teach you."

"News flash for you, Father. I didn't smash the car. Steven did it, and then he lied about it. You punished the wrong son."

"I knew Steven smashed the car the night he did it. That boy can't lie to save his life."

"You knew and you sent me away anyway?"

"Yes," William answered smugly.

"What! Why? How could you? What was sending me away to military school, for something I didn't do, supposed to accomplish?" Jim was holding his head as a migraine started. His hands were shaking. He couldn't believe what his father was telling him.

"A strong leader has to take both the responsibility and sometimes the punishment for those underneath him. You were responsible for Steven. I told you that many times."

"We weren't a military organization. We were a family. At least we were until you drove Mom away." There were sparkles dancing in front of Jim's eyes. He clenched them shut, hoping to make it stop.

"I tried to make you strong enough to survive. I failed. You were weak. That General broke you."

"So, why did you rescue me from them? If I am such a disappointment to you and always have been, why didn't you leave me to be their guinea pig?"

"Because we had informed them you were under our domain and therefore off limits to them. There had to be severe consequences for their disobedience. You should understand that."

Jim turned onto his side, holding his hands over his ears. He didn't want to hear this, but his control over those new sliders was weak. He couldn't shut out the angry words his father was yelling.

William started to pace. "James, you have been sloppy. I taught you better than this. That press conference Sandburg held was a farce. It didn't fool anyone, but the media."

"We did the best we could with the situation. We didn't exactly have a lot of options available to us."

"It's time you quit playing with your life and assume your rightful place. Join the Order. Those fools you have as friends in the police force can't protect you. You're alone, but the Order will accept you into our ranks. You'll be part of something powerful."

"And evil. Leave me alone, Father. Just go away and leave me alone." Jim was yelling now, the pain in his head was incredible. He needed Blair.

"James, we're going to talk about this. You are not in charge here."

"Neither are you," said a new voice, entering the fray. Blair Sandburg was standing in the doorway. Steven was standing right behind him. "When it comes to Jim's well being, I'm in charge. Steven, I suggest you and your father find something else to do for now while I take care of him."

Steven pulled his father out of the room as Blair headed straight for his partner. Jim was lying on his side his forehead was resting on his knees. His entire body was shaking with pain. Blair was afraid to touch him. "Jim, what happened? You need to tell me what's going on here, buddy."

"My head is killing me," Jim muttered through gritted teeth.

"You've tensed up. You need to relax. Let me see your eyes, Jim."

Blair helped Jim roll over onto his back. He used his thumbs to rub circles on Jim's forehead, helping to ease the tension, but Jim's eyes were clench