"Hey, buddy." Nodding at the nurse as she left the room, Jim stepped over to the exam table Blair was sitting on and put a hand on his hair, pulling enough back to check out the injury.
"Jim, what happened? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He gave Blair his best reassuring smile, then let his hand slide down to his partner's shoulder. "This is pretty complicated, Chief."
Blair looked up, a flash of emotion in his eyes. "I shot you, Jim. I don't remember it, not really. It was like I was watching myself do it."
"I know."
"Jim, what the hell's going on? I shot you!"
"Blair--"
"I didn't--Jim, I would never--" Blair stopped himself, taking a deep breath and looking at the floor for a moment.
"I know. Just take it easy, there's an explanation for all of this, Chief." Jim put his free hand on Blair's other shoulder and stood directly in front of him, looking down. "Will you trust me for just a little while? I want to get us out of here and someplace more quiet. Okay?"
"No, Jim. I want to know what the hell I did, now!" Blair's anger flared, searching for a direction. "Just how complicated can it be?"
"All right." Jim sighed, and walked over to shut the door. Simon was in the hall on his cell phone, talking to the DA's office. When he returned to the exam table Blair was sitting on, he took a breath to gather his still-fuzzy thoughts. "I think you were hypnotized, Chief."
"What?"
"I'm sure of it now. It wasn't clear before, but it makes sense."
"How?"
"There was a postcard, sent from Dr. Stoddard to the Station. It was in Simon's office. He was writing to apologize for missing the conference in Toronto." Blair opened his mouth to protest, but Jim held up both hands to silence him, wincing at the action. His body was trying to remind him what had just happened. And of what could have happened. How close Blair had come to being killed. "Listen, we're both exhausted. I don't know exactly what's going on, but I have a good idea that Giovanni was in Toronto when you arrived." Blair's eyes flashed as a sudden jolt of understanding shot through his mind. Jim held up a hand, and put the other on his friend's shoulder. "Let's not panic until we know more." He glanced toward the door and heard Simon hanging up the cell phone. Turning back to Blair, he found him rubbing the side of his head slowly, eyebrows knit together. "Simon's coming. Look, will you trust me for a little while? I'd like to get out of here and go over this someplace more private."
Blair looked up, nodding. His eyes were bloodshot and tired.
Jim turned to find Simon entering, one of his darker scowls clouding his face as he eyed both men.
"All right, Jim, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt here, you've earned it." Handing Jim his shirt, Simon glared at Blair. "But I want an explanation, right now, or I have to take Sandburg in."
Jim shook his head and reached for the shirt, taking note of the look his Captain was giving his partner. "On what charge, Simon?"
"What?" Simon's gaze moved back to Jim. "Ellison..."
"Simon, you know damn well Sandburg didn't just shoot me because he wanted to." He winced slightly pulling his shirt on. "It was brainwashing, Captain. For lack of a better term. Sandburg, and Marsha Wu's husband." Jim glanced at Blair for a moment. "I'd be willing to bet he just got back from the East Coast."
"Dammit!" Simon pulled his phone from a pocket and dialed a few numbers. "Brown, I want another room set up there. Ellison and Sandburg. Yes, that's right. Have Clark meet us there in thirty minutes."
Jim looked at Blair. "It'll be all right, Chief."
Blair nodded, risking a quick glance at Simon as he ended the phone call.
"Jim, I need to see you in the hall." The Captain's face never changed, but he did shoot Blair a look first, softening just a bit when he did.
Jim turned back to Blair while he buttoned his shirt. "Stay here, we'll be right back." Once in the hall, with Sentinel senses on full alert, Jim turned to Simon.
"I'm trusting you on this one, Ellison. Ken Wu was in New York two weeks ago." The Captain glanced over Jim's shoulder and shook his head. "He shot himself right after killing his wife."
Instantly Jim's blood ran cold. "Simon, did Blair--"
Simon nodded. "We think so. It all happened too damn fast, but Carpenter says Sandburg was bringing your gun up to his head when he shot him."
"God." Jim closed both eyes momentarily, forcing out the vision trying to take shape.
"We have the jury sequestered and court's out for the day. I'm gonna take the two of you there until we get this straightened out."
"Right. What about Burgini?"
"He's asked to see you. I'm going to meet with him after I drop you two off, see what he's up to." Simon reached out and pushed the door to Blair's room open again, following Jim inside. "I'll let you know what he says."
Jim nodded and walked over to Blair, putting a hand on his partner's arm. "What did the doctor say?"
"I'm okay." Even with that assurance, Blair eased himself off the exam table slowly. "I guess Carpenter's been wanting to pop me since that time in the garage."
Jim nearly laughed as he put a steadying arm around Blair's back. "You're a better shot than he is."
"All right, let's get out of here." Simon opened the door and led the way out of the exam room.
* * *
For Blair and Simon's benefit, Jim began the explanation in Simon's car. "Just put the facts together, Simon. There's no way Sandburg would shoot me of his own volition." He glanced at his partner as they both rode to the hotel in Simon's back seat, his left arm draped protectively over Blair's shoulders while his right remained tucked close to his injured side. "And as far as I can tell, Marsha and her husband had no cause to hate each other. So what did the two have in common?" Jim held up a hand and counted off the similarities. "One, they both recently came back from a trip to the East Coast. Two, they both have access to people connected to the Burgini trial. And three, they're both the last people any security sweep is gonna suspect."
Beside him, Blair inhaled sharply through his nose while pushing long strands of hair from his eyes. "So, you're saying someone was there, in Toronto, and they somehow got me to shoot you?"
Jim nodded once. "I know it's hard to fathom, Chief. But Giovanni is a shrink, remember? I'm sure if anyone could pull this off, he could. Or he'd know someone who could."
Blair shook his head. "No, it's not hard to fathom, Jim. That's the problem."
Before he could reply, Simon pulled into a parking garage and shut the sedan off. "All right, the two of you are going to be kept upstairs with the jury. I've got a meeting with Burgini back at the Station."
"Keep me informed, Captain. I'd like a talk with him myself." Jim opened the door and found Clark waiting for them in the elevator.
"We'll see about that after I find out what's on his mind." Simon looked at Jim through the passenger side window, shooting a quick glance in Blair's direction as the younger man got out of the car. "Jim, you stay alert. Clark and Jenkins are staying on the floor with you, and we've got uniforms at all the exits."
"We'll be fine, sir." Jim stood, placing his right arm against his tightly bandaged, throbbing side, then put the other around his partner's shoulders as they walked to meet Clark at the elevator.
Blair was silent for the entire ride up to the fifteenth floor. Detective Clark explained the floor plan and the positions of each officer, then gave them a key to a room midway down the hall off the elevator. By the time they got to their room, Jim's ribs were aching badly. He locked the door, checked all the windows, then tossed the keys to a bed and sat down carefully, all the while keeping one eye on his quiet partner.
"You should get some rest."
"Jim, we have to talk."
Part 4
* * *
"I know, Chief." Jim sat down in one of only two comfortable chairs in the hotel room, protecting his aching ribs with one arm held close to his body. "If I'm right, it explains a few things. L
ike the needle marks on your arm."
Suddenly remembering them, Blair stopped the pacing he'd started and pulled up his right sleeve, seeing again the bruising and marks there. Another chill ran down his spine, just as a multitude of others had coursed their way from his confused mind through his aching body, since he watched himself in a dream-like state pull Jim's revolver from the desk, take careful aim, and shoot.
"Jim, there's more to this than just the Burgini trial." Blair turned to face his friend, then had to turn again as anxious feet demanded movement.
"Blair--"
"Jim, I spoke with Dr. Stoddard. Only you said he wasn't there." Blair reached the end of the room and turned, glancing at Jim as he redirected his movement. "So if he wasn't there, then just who in the hell did I talk to about you?" The question was emphasized by his pause in front of Jim's chair. Before his partner could answer, he was back on the move. "And if it wasn't Dr. Stoddard all that time, and I was talking to this Giovanni person, then, man, we have got problems here, Jim!"
"Sandburg--"
"I told him all about the research, Jim. I told him about what you can do, and how it works so well on the job." Blair added a hand gesture to each point, determined his friend see the seriousness of the situation. "I told him all about your edge, even the things that can interfere with it." To bring his point home, Blair stopped pacing, staring at Jim.
"Chief, let's not jump to any conclusions just yet, okay? We're both tired, and sore, and right now lucky to be alive. Now, it could very well be that you were simply made to believe you had spoken with Dr. Stoddard about your work. If they were trying to program you to assassinate me, then learning what they could from you wasn't a high priority. Right?"
Reluctantly, and with some hope, Blair nodded.
"All right, then. The first thing to remember is, it didn't work. You didn't kill me, and you're still alive. So whatever he did, it's over. Now that we've figured him out, we're on the offensive."
Blair sighed, rubbing his forehead. The headache he'd been trying to ignore was getting more and more insistent. "I dunno, man. The realities of this are just coming in, you know?" He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, only then realizing he'd sat down on the edge of one of the beds. Jim was beside him, looking down.
"I know, Chief. Are you going to be okay to sleep tonight? What did the doctor say?"
"I don't remember. I was too busy trying to make him tell me what happened to you." Blair's glance paused at the right side Jim was protecting. "Are you okay, really?"
"I'm fine." Jim gave Blair's shoulder a gentle squeeze and walked to the other bed, sitting down with some effort. "Just some bruises. Good thing Simon made me put that vest on."
"God, Jim. I could have killed you." How often had he said that since meeting the man? Taking a deep breath, Blair remembered one of Jim's favorite sayings: Anything you lived through was a good thing. Well, maybe not a good thing, but survived at least. He was not going to let his mind run wild with this! "Okay, how do we know there wasn't some kind of contingency plan or something? What if there's something else I'm supposed to do?"
"No, you'd know about it now, Chief." Jim turned to Blair, but remained on the bed. "We did some of this in Covert Ops. One of the men was trained in planting suggestions and some basic psychological programming techniques, to put it simply."
Simply. How could anything like this be simple? Blair turned more on the bed to face Jim.
"After the task has been exposed, and the subject realizes what's happening, it's over."
"Yeah, that makes sense." He nodded, then reached up to rub his throbbing forehead around the bandage. "That's why some people can't be hypnotized, they can't give in to it."
"And you meditate all the time, making it pretty easy for someone using the right drugs to get into that head of yours."
Jim's words were delivered softly, and without malice, but the guilt and anger they drove home were sure enough. "I guess I made a pretty convenient target."
"Don't, Blair, it wasn't your fault. I've seen trained men fall victim to worse. Besides, if I had read that postcard sooner, or put this all together before you got my gun out of the desk, I could have talked you out of this, just like before."
"Yeah, well, what do we do now? I mean, can we go after this Giovanni guy, or what?" God, his head hurt! Why couldn't Jim have talked the gun out of his hand this time, too? If only it hadn't happened so quickly. Humiliation, he could handle. At least last time, he never pulled the trigger. Not at Jim.
"What we do right now is get some sleep. Then tomorrow, we talk to the Department shrink and see what we can find out."
"Make me remember what really happened, you mean?" Blair nodded slightly, still rubbing his forehead.
"Something like that." Jim kicked off his shoes and sighed again. "Listen, Chief, I won't lie to you. Unless we can come up with some hard evidence, or get Burgini to cooperate in some way, there's a good chance we'll have nothing to go after Giovanni with."
Blair gave in to the pounding in his head and fell back on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, he pondered the truth. "Without physical evidence, there's no case." He heard Jim move on the bed beside him, but there was no reply. "But his plan didn't work, did it? You're not dead, which means you can still testify." Blair turned to look at his partner. "So does that mean he'll try again?"
"Maybe." Jim shrugged, then very carefully got up.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'll be fine, Chief." Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder, and was about to say more when the phone rang. "That must be Simon." He took a few steps to the phone, then turned and pointed back at Blair. "I want you to sit down and take it easy. Whatever happens next, isn't gonna happen tonight."
Nodding, Blair stayed where he was and listened to the only side of the conversation he could hear.
"Ellison. Yes, Simon, we're fine. What? He'll cooperate now? I want to talk to him. All right, fine, tomorrow then. I know, we've talked about that. Yeah, she can help him remember, for what good that'll do. Good night, Simon."
"What did he say?"
Jim glanced at Blair, then walked to the bathroom. "He wants you to talk to Dr. Gates tomorrow."
"The Station shrink?"
Jim nodded, then entered the bathroom, making Blair wait until he was finished.
"What good will that do, Jim?" Blair asked as his partner came back, still drying his hands. "If we can't use anything but hard evidence against Giovanni, how will making me remember things help?"
Jim walked to the other side of the bed, and began to unbutton his shirt. "We might not need evidence now, Chief." He pulled off the shirt and unbuttoned his jeans, kicking off both shoes as he did. "Burgini wants to make a deal. He wants to testify against his nephew."
"Then he knows. You were right about what Giovanni did, and he knows about it."
"Looks that way." Jim ran a hand over his hair, then rubbed his eyes and looked over at Blair. "We'll get him, Chief."
Blair nodded, his mind beginning to spin almost as badly as his vision had when he stood. He began to undress as well, trying to find the answer to a question nagging at him from somewhere.
"Just get some rest. Things might make more sense in the morning." Jim got into bed but settled the pillows up against the headboard and sat up. "The doctor said you had a slight concussion, so I'm going to wake you every few hours. You'd better try and get as much sleep as you can."
"What about you, Jim?" Blair pulled off his shirt, then kicked off his shoes.
"I'm not tired. Not yet, anyway. There's too much about this case that needs to be worked out." Jim shook his head and smiled tiredly. "Get some rest, Chief. We'll need access to what's in that head of yours tomorrow."
Blair replied with a sigh, and started to unbutton his jeans. Then the question finally clarified. "Jim, we can't talk to Dr. Gates. She'll find out about you."
Jim rubbed his eyes again, not looking up. "What are you talking about?"
&nb
sp; "Jim, your Sentinel abilities." Blair moved closer to the side of the bed, suddenly realizing why a simple visit to a psychologist was worrying him so badly. "If I tell her what I was telling Giovanni, or whoever did this, she'll think I'm nuts!"
"Sandburg, everyone at the Station thinks you're nuts."
"No, look, I am serious here, Jim. I just may have told a major crime boss more details about your Sentinel abilities than even you know. God knows what kind of trouble that might have caused. We can't risk someone else finding out. She'd either believe me and report it, ask too many questions; or worse, have me declared unfit and get my Observer credentials taken away."
That finally got Jim's attention.
"See? We have to find another way, Jim."
"What do you mean, more than even I know?"
Oh, man, that was not the point! As both a diversionary tactic and because having raised his voice slightly made his head pound, Blair brought one hand up to press against his forehead for a moment. That gave his answer just the amount of time it needed. "I've got it!"
"Got what, Chief?"
"You. You can help me remember." Blair's hands reflected his discovery, trying to convey that confidence to his friend. "Just like when I helped you remember what you heard on the answering machine that time Jack called you. It's that easy, Jim."
"I don't know about that, Chief." Jim shook his head, holding up a hand. "You knew what you were doing."
"And so do you." Blair nodded to counteract Jim's negative reaction. "Yes, you do, Jim. You know what you need to look for. As a cop, you know what they probably did, when, where, how, all of that. I can get myself into a relaxed state, then you just have to guide me through it."
"No." Jim shook his head again, holding both hands up to emphasize his point. "Sandburg, what you're talking about is not something you just sit down and guide someone through. I could accidentally plant suggestions in your mind, or take you someplace dangerous. Or even trigger something."
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