by K Ryn
"Jim... wait..."
Looking down into his partner's face, he could see the younger man's expression shifting back and forth between stubborn determination and uneasiness. Sandburg's gaze flickered to Anders before coming back to meet his.
"Look," Blair whispered, "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong here."
"In what way?" Jim asked quietly.
"I don't know... it's just..." Blair shook his head, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He glanced over at the agent again and shuddered, quickly looking away. "That guy Anders. He makes me nervous."
"Maybe it's just because he's FBI," Jim offered, intentionally keeping his tone light. "Your past experiences with the Feds wouldn't necessarily engender a positive reaction."
"Jim, I'm trying to be serious here," Blair retorted, lowering his voice even farther. "Just do me a favor. Be careful about using your senses in front of these guys, okay? I mean, I know we're all supposed to be on the same team and all that, but..."
"But be careful. I got it, Chief. With any luck I won't have to use them at all."
Jim gave him a quick pat on the shoulder and ushered his Guide toward the jeep. Blair's whispered response was so quiet that even with his Sentinel hearing, Ellison almost missed it. The foreboding twinge he felt at his partner's words made him wish he had.
"Somehow I don't think luck's on our side today, man."
While Jim eased into the passenger seat, Blair settled himself in the rear, positioning himself so that he sat directly behind his partner. He was less than enthused about the close proximity to the FBI agent, but grateful to be sitting down. It was going to be a long day -- he was sure of that. A long day on top of too many long days.
As unobtrusively as he could, he rolled his shoulders, trying to ease already stiffening muscles. He was certain he could feel the heat of a good sized bruise forming across the top of his right shoulder blade and countless smaller ones along his right side, testimony to the force of his impact with the ground. Relieved that he'd managed to come out of that little adventure with only some new bruises -- the way his luck was running, he was surprised he hadn't broken his neck -- he vowed to remain silent, no matter how uncomfortable he became.
That's all Jim would need to finally decide to keep me out of this, and there's no way I'm going to let that happen.
Anders pulled two manila folders off his clipboard, handing one to each of them before starting the jeep. "That's what we've got so far," the agent explained, raising his voice so that they could hear him over the sound of the engine. He waited until two of the other vehicles had pulled out ahead of him before dropping into gear and following. Blair shifted sideways in order to hear better, inching forward until his right shoulder rested on the back of Jim's seat, . Feeling every bump of the tires through the thin padding of his jacket, he gritted his teeth and flipped open the file, scanning the information.
"We've got nine people missing," Anders began. "Seven children, ages seven to eight, the bus driver and one of the teachers from KinderEdge Institute. It's a private school... pretty upper crust, if you know what I mean. They should have checked in at the camp early this morning. When they didn't arrive, the park rangers did a quick search on the roads thinking that the rough weather might have delayed them. First thing I knew about it was when my director told me to get a team assembled and get my butt up here. More than one of the kid's parents has some pretty high-up clout, I guess. I brought a few of my men and borrowed a couple of teams from SAR. Most of their more experienced personnel are assisting in the fire relief efforts down in Santa Anna, so when I found out we were short-handed, I called your captain on the Seattle Office's recommendation."
Anders paused and gave them both a quick look before turning his attention back to the rough trail they were following. "You two have a pretty amazing track record. The Bureau gave you a glowing endorsement and they're a hard bunch to impress."
Blair grimaced at the compliment and tried to focus on the stack of papers in his hand, struggling to keep his balance as the vehicle lurched from side to side. Anders cranked the wheel around to avoid another pothole and Blair bounced against the seatback, clenching his teeth against the pain which jolted through his bruised shoulder. With a string of his more inventive curses running through his head, he stopped trying to read and looked up, peering ahead to survey their surroundings.
They had passed from the small clearing where the helicopter had dropped them, into dense forest. The 'road' they were following was little more than a beaten down path, barely wide enough for most of the trucks. He was jolted forward again when Anders abruptly angled the jeep to the right. Blair heard the scrape of branches on the sides of the vehicle as they passed between two huge trees, moving much faster than his suddenly pounding heart considered safe.
Great... this little excursion is turning out to be a visit to the amusement park from hell. First the death-defying helicopter drop and now the tree-smash slalom course. What's next? Must be a river somewhere that I can jump into. No trip into the great outdoors would be complete without a water ride, now would it?
Making a silent vow to never again leave the safety of his bedroom, no matter what his inner voices demanded, Blair turned his attention back to Anders' briefing.
"We managed to pick up a track on the bus and followed it up here. From what we can tell, the driver left the main road not too far from the park entrance. We did find a tree blocking that stretch and we thought at first they were looking for a quick detour and just got lost. But they several opportunities to pull off onto other roads which would have led them to the camp and they didn't take them. It looks like we have to assume the worst."
"You did a background check on the driver?" asked Jim, still studying the files intently.
"Right away. Richard Heckt, age 29. No priors, no skeletons in the closet that we could find. The Bureau's still digging, but so far we're coming up empty. He's been with the company that chartered the trip for six years. Good work record and, if we can believe his boss, pretty well liked."
"And the teacher, Amanda Sims? Anything on her that's not in here?"
At Jim's question, Blair flipped back to the pages on the missing woman. There was a fax copy of her photo attached to the documents and Blair found himself immediately drawn to the young teacher. Amanda Sims, age 27, red hair, blue eyes, 120 pounds of pure fun, if her picture did her justice. Even through the blurring of the printout, her eyes sparkled and the smile was infectious, implying a mischievous sense of humor and love of life.
Lucky kids... wish I'd been so fortunate in second grade, he thought to himself, remembering the towering older man who had tried to inflicted his own brand of strict discipline on a free-spirited, scraggly-haired, seven year-old boy. Fortunately he'd only had to endure the man's attitude for a few months, while they stayed with some of Naomi's friends in Fort Lauderdale. The constant switching from school to school was usually painful, but in this case he'd been happy to leave. Any longer and he and the teacher certainly would have come to blows.
"No troublesome boyfriends, no bad habits as far as we're been able to determine," Anders answered. "She or the driver could be involved in this -- hell, almost anyone could. It would be easy to discover how loaded the parents are. The kind of money you could pull down on just one of those kids would buy a small island somewhere."
Troubled by the agent's words, Blair extracted the photograph he'd passed by earlier. It was a group shot of what he assumed were the missing children. Looking at the smiling, guileless faces, he felt a surge of anger at whoever would be callous enough to destroy their innocence with the terror of an abduction. He raised his head and studied his partner. Noting the clenching of Jim's jaw, he knew the older man was feeling the same emotions.
They both understood the ramifications of Anders' words. There were lives at stake -- innocent victims who needed to be rescued from the whims of fate and whoever was heartless enough t
o place more value on money, than on life.
Lives which the Sentinel could protect: that was what he was born to do, what his code of honor required him to do, no matter what the cost, with no thought of the risk to himself. And Blair knew with a certainty deep in his heart, that if he tried to keep Jim from using his gifts, kept him from following that sense of duty, it would destroy the bond between them. There was no way he was going to allow that to happen -- not on the basis of some irrational, emotional episodes. Jim had a job to do and so did he. He was Guide and partner...
~And something more...~
No! He denied the seductive whisper inside his head with a vehemence born of weariness and fear. I am Guide and partner. I didn't ask to be anything else.
~Accept the truth.~
Blair felt the flood of terror and sorrow building deep inside and he fought it with every ounce of willpower he had.
~Protect your Sentinel.~
I will protect him, Blair pledged desperately. I swear I will keep him safe... but I cannot accept this... not now... Now I need to remain who I am. That's where my strength lies...
~Strength wears many faces, young one.~
The voice and the wave of emotions faded abruptly, leaving him drained and exhausted. Grateful for the support of the seat in front of him, he leaned into it, concentrating on regaining his control and suppressing his own fears. Blair took a deep breath, focusing his thoughts on the missing children and their adult companions. They would find them. Jim's skills and senses would make the difference. Blair had absolute faith in that.
And when he finds them and they're safe, maybe it will make up for the lives that we lost last time... maybe I'll be able to sleep again... maybe we both will...
The jeep finally shot out of the dense forest onto a stretch of broken, paved road. Jim breathed a small sigh of relief -- he'd endured every jolt and bounce of the vehicle and he knew his partner had felt them, too. The Sentinel had easily heard the small gasp of indrawn breath every time the anthropologist had bumped against the seat. Jim began to wonder whether he should have checked the younger man more thoroughly for injuries. He shuddered at the memory of Blair's falling body -- well beyond his reach -- and the heart-stopping sound his Guide had made when he'd hit the ground.
If he hadn't instinctively tucked into that rolled-up ball and protected his head...
Pushing away the horrifying possibilities of what could have happened, Jim concentrated on the reassuring lifesigns of the young man behind him.
... pulse is rapid, but not bad, considering the roller coaster ride we've just taken... respiration's fast, but that's pretty normal, too. Better than a few minutes ago...
He'd almost turned around in his seat to check on Blair when he'd sensed the younger man's distress, but he hadn't wanted to confront his partner in front of Anders. If it had been another panic attack, it hadn't lasted long. Maybe it was just the close calls with the trees, he told himself hopefully. The surging heartbeat had coincided with several near misses as the jeep had careened through the thick growth.
Yeah, and maybe it'll take a fifth episode with him collapsing into convulsions to convince you that this is serious, Ellison. Who are you trying to fool?
With a frustrated sigh, Jim took one more quick sensory peek at the anthropologist. Satisfied that for the time being that Blair was all right, Jim turned his attention back to the road, scanning ahead. He'd already picked out three more parked vehicles and six more men before Anders pulled the jeep to a stop a few minutes later.
"This is where we found the last tire tracks. I'll give you a minute to stretch your legs while I check with my people," Anders commented, sliding easily from the driver's seat and moving off to join the small cluster of waiting men.
Jim nodded and climbed out of the jeep himself, feeling the stiffness of his own muscles, and the ache in his joints which signaled the beginning stages of exhaustion. He shook his head and dialed down his senses a bit more, knowing it would be only a short term cure. Get your head into the case, he reminded himself. Squaring his shoulders in grim determination, he took a quick look around, his sharp eyes picking up a myriad of details as he stretched out the kinks from the rough ride.
He wasn't sure of the elevation, but the slight laboring of his lungs and the crispness of the air gave him the impression him that they were fairly high up. His own internal clock -- a carryover from his time spent in the military -- told him the same thing the position of the hazy sun did -- they were just past midday. Jim turned in a slight arc as he stretched again. He let his hearing drift around the assembled group, picking up snatches of conversation, all pertaining to the mission at hand. He searched for Anders and found him engaged in what looked to be a fairly intense discussion with another, taller man. Jim was just about to eavesdrop when they broke apart.
There was a small frown on the Sentinel's face when he turned back to the jeep to retrieve his pack. The expression deepened when he realized Blair hadn't moved. The anthropologist was still sitting hunched in the back seat, head down, the long flowing curls throwing a curtain across his face. Taking a step forward, Jim peered over his shoulder and saw what was holding his young friend's attention. The folder in Blair's hands was open and on top of the sheath of reports was the photo of the missing children.
The muscles in Ellison's jaw clenched in anger. Of all the cases he worked, those involving children were the hardest for him to keep in perspective, and he knew how painfully they affected his partner. The Sentinel's protective instincts flared, not just for the missing kids, but for his Guide as well. He reached out and gently touched Blair on the shoulder, not wanting to startle him.
"Chief?"
The blue eyes which looked up at the soft inquiry were filled with confusion and an emotion Jim couldn't quite identify. The odd, unfocused expression was gone with the next blink and the familiar wry smile on the anthropologist's face made Jim wonder if he'd really seen it.
"Just catching my breath," Blair murmured.
"Good. I thought for a minute you were having a 'zone-out' of your own," Jim responded just as quietly, his eyes narrowing in concern.
"More like lost in thought."
"That's been happening a lot lately, hasn't it?"
Blair's smile faltered at the implications of Jim's casual question and he turned away, busying himself with stuffing the folder into his pack. Grudgingly, the Sentinel took a step back to allow the younger man to climb from the jeep, wincing at his Guide's sharp intake of breath when he moved too quickly. Jim started to reach out to take Blair's arm, but his friend's quick shift backward and almost embarrassed shake of the head, stopped him.
Sliding his pack onto his shoulder, Blair tugged at his jacket to straighten it before finally looking up to meet the detective's eyes. "I'm all right, Jim. Just a little stiff."
Ellison stared down at him for a moment longer, then nodded, the frown never leaving his face. Blair broke his gaze away and pointedly stared off toward the rest of the search party. Realizing that he was facing his partner's usual stonewalling tactics, Jim backed off and pulled his own pack onto his shoulders.
"You know, Jim, one thing has me a little confused."
"Only one?" the detective asked lightly, recognizing the inquisitive tone in his observer's voice and hoping that it meant his partner's uneasiness was finally dissipating.
"Unless I missed it, Anders didn't say anything about a ransom demand," the younger man continued smoothly, ignoring the teasing jibe. "Is that normal? I mean, the kids have been missing for over five hours. If this is a kidnapping, shouldn't someone have been contacted by now?"
The comment brought Jim up short. He did a quick search of his memory and realized Blair was right. Once again, the observer had picked up on something the detective had missed. Running his hand through his close-cropped hair in frustration at his own fatigue induced dull-wittedness, Jim placed a hand on Blair's shoulder and gently propelled him forward.
"You didn't miss anythin
g, Chief. It's a good question. Let's get an answer."
As they made their way through the knots of clustered men, Jim sensed his partner's increasing nervousness. When they were within a few feet of Anders, the anthropologist's pace slackened and Ellison moved ahead, letting Blair shift slightly behind him.
"We're ready to go whenever you are," Anders reported, glancing up from the clipboard in his hand at their arrival.
"We're ready," Jim said quietly. "Just one question. From what you said about the affluence of the children's parents, I assume we're expecting a ransom demand, but you didn't mention one."
"We haven't been contacted by anyone yet. There are agents standing by at each of the kid's homes and I've got one of my men monitoring the satellite up-link. He's got orders to report to us immediately, if anything comes in."
"Satellite up-link? That's pretty expensive technology," Blair observed, one eyebrow raising in mild surprise.
"The Bureau's got pretty impressive resources," Anders answered with a casual shrug. "Besides, without it we'd never get a call out over these mountains. Cell phones won't work up here. Not unless you get well above the tree line."
Jim could almost feel Blair's shiver at the reference to the elevation and quickly shifted the subject. "Where's the track you found?"
"This way."
Anders led them past the assembled vehicles. The paved portion of the road ended about fifteen feet beyond the cluster of trucks, changing to gravel for another thirty yards before it became simply dirt and grass. The ex-ranger eyed the ground carefully as they trailed behind the FBI agent, his gaze sweeping left and right, hunting for clues. When Anders stopped just short of a heavily churned patch of mud, Jim moved a few steps farther, kneeling at the side of the depression.
As he studied the impressions in the dark, rain drenched soil, he felt the sudden warmth of Blair's hand on his shoulder. Reassured by his Guide's steadying presence, the Sentinel reached out, extending his sight to probe the tire tracks that were evident in the mud.
