by K Ryn
Jim grinned in spite of the seriousness of their discussion. The younger man's rambling explanation had hit on something that he'd been thinking about for a long time. Their lives had gotten so intricately entwined that it was sometimes difficult to see where one aspect of their association started and another stopped. He'd also considered parts of their relationship Blair hadn't mentioned -- the big brother/little brother thing; the father/son connection that arose every so often; and, of course, the fact that Blair was, by virtue of Incacha's granting of the title, his Shaman as well as his Guide.
He thought about adding his two cents into the mix, but one look at the younger man told him that he'd pushed this about as far as he could for the moment. "When you put it that way, I can see the difficulty. I'll withdraw that question... for now."
Jim lifted his head as the sound of voices carried across the clearing. With a glance, he could see that Anders was starting to round everyone up for a final search of the area. He shifted to his feet and handed Blair the water bottle, watching his Guide closely.
"Anything else you want to tell me?"
"I didn't even want to tell you this much," Blair muttered, raising his eyes to meet Jim's. "Look, I'm sure part of this is just stress, man. That last case and now this. I just need some serious downtime, to get my nerves unfrazzled. But... in case I'm wrong, how about you humor me about being careful around these guys. FBI or not, Anders has his own agenda here, trust me."
"Easy enough, Chief," Jim agreed, recognizing the need to put their conversation on hold, his own reactions to the agent making him more than willing to agree to the younger man's request. "I'll be careful, you be careful. We've still got those kids to find."
Blair slid off the boulder, took a swig from the water bottle and handed it back to his partner. "Yeah, I know..." The observer's voice trailed off as he glanced around the clearing once more. When his gaze settled on the empty school bus, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Jim, something's still bugging me. Something's just not right..."
Ellison looked up and saw the expression of puzzled concentration on the younger man's face. A flicker of movement beyond his partner caught his eye and he shifted his focus -- on the edge of the clearing, Anders was watching them intently. Under the pretense of placing the water bottle in his pack, he scanned the area, noting the location of each of the men from the search party.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled immediately, kicking his "Blessed Protector" reflex into full gear. He reached out and pulled Blair around to face him.
"Hey, man, what's the..."
"Quiet. Just follow my lead," Jim warned. He pretended to adjust Blair's headset while his eyes scouted the clearing.
Blair looked up questioningly. "What is it?" he whispered.
"Either I'm starting to share your paranoia, or you're right and something 'is' wrong here. Anders has his men strung around the edge of the clearing, but they don't seem to be doing much searching. Their attention is focused inward. It's as if they're more interested in keeping tabs on us, than in finding those kids."
"Oh, man. I knew it. Jim, if they suspect what you're doing, what you're capable of... I mean, these guys are the FBI -- or worse. They get their hands on you and it's good-bye."
Jim stared down into Blair's anxious face. His Guide's genuine concern for his safety touched him. "I know, Chief. I don't understand what's going on here, but we've still got a job to do. The sooner we find those kids, the sooner we can leave Anders in the dust. Just be careful what you say over this." The Sentinel tapped the headset and stepped away, grabbing his own pack and settling it on his shoulders. "I'm going to take another look around the perimeter, see if I can pick up anything."
Blair gathered up his own gear. "I want to check out the bus once more. I've got the feeling that there's something there that we're missing."
Jim nodded and started walking a pattern of widening circles which would eventually take him to the edge of the clearing. While he checked the rocky ground for any sign of the missing children, he opened up his senses to observe Anders' men. The more he saw, the more uneasy he became. There was no question -- these men did not act like any of the search and rescue workers or FBI agents that he'd come into contact with before. They acted more like soldiers. He felt the warning prickle tug at him again, and, although there were no overt signs of danger, he quickly shifted his attention to monitor his partner's progress. Blair was inside the bus now, and Jim could hear muttered comments through the headset as the younger man walked the aisle.
He smiled at the familiar pattern. Blair was fixed on something with his usual bull-dog determination and he was talking himself through it, voicing his rambling thoughts aloud as he sorted through the puzzle. It was the kind of behavior which drove Simon crazy, but Jim had learned not to question his partner's methodology. He trusted Blair's instincts as much as he trusted his own. For all the grief the Sentinel gave the younger man, he respected the sharp, analytical mind of his Guide. As a scientist, Blair was trained to be a good observer. As an anthropologist, he added an appreciation and understanding of the human side of the equation. Blair's unique way of looking at things had often uncovered a clue or direction Jim would have overlooked.
The Sentinel scrubbed at his face in exasperation. Why couldn't he pick up anything on the missing children or whoever had engineered their disappearance? It seemed impossible that they could have left the bus without leaving some kind of trace. Was it his own weariness making his senses unreliable?
With the unsettling, warning sensation still nagging at him, Jim let his gaze drift across the clearing, trying to determine the source. When his eyes locked on Anders, he stiffened. The agent was staring intently at the bus, his face filled with an expression of hungry anticipation.
What the hell is that all about?
Jim's thoughts flashed back to the initial phone call which had started this trip. Anders, or whoever was running this case, had asked for he and Sandburg specifically. Not just the team who might have the most experience. Someone had wanted them here, and not knowing why was starting to make him very nervous. That, and Anders' disturbing interest in his Guide.
It's a good thing that Sandburg can't see Anders watching him, or he'd have another one of those attacks, Jim mused grimly, his mind filling with the image of Blair's distressed face.
A second image was abruptly superimposed over that of his partner's -- Blair's frightened blue eyes replaced by calm, ancient brown ones. Jim almost groaned aloud in shocked recognition.
Damn it, Incacha, is this your doing? His worried gaze shifted back to the bus immediately, his vision focusing on his young Guide.
His fledgling Shaman.
Were the episodes Blair had been experiencing more than nerves and exhaustion? Were they a result of some of Incacha's hastily bequeathed powers -- a legacy which he and Blair had barely even discussed? As hard as it was to believe, if it was true, it would explain a great deal.
Cursing silently, Ellison made himself move again, ostensibly continuing his search pattern while his mind raced for answers. One of Incacha's gifts had been the ability to sense impending danger, even if he couldn't pinpoint the exact source. Whether Jim understood, or even truly bought into the mystical aspects of the Shaman's abilities, he'd seen the results of the older man's persuasions first hand during the time he'd lived with the tribe. If Blair had indeed 'inherited' those talents, then Jim was going to have to take the foreshadowed danger as a serious threat.
But what kind of threat? The Sentinel shook his head in disgust. He tried to recall everything Blair had said earlier about the attacks, seeking a clue which would tell him what he was missing. The obvious terror and sorrow in his Guide's voice echoed in his mind. Even with everything they'd been through together, Jim had never heard that depth of emotional loss in Blair's voice.
It was so intense... as if it had touched him -- would touch him -- personally. It's... it's how I would feel if anything happened to him.
Correction. Had felt.
I knew that kind of fear when Lash kidnapped him from the loft. I ached with that kind of despair when his heart stopped beating in the station parking garage.
Jim shivered and shook his head, pushing away the painful memories. If he could feel that depth of loss, then the reverse was probably also true. Blair's terror stemmed from a Guide's fear of something happening to his Sentinel. That was why he had been so paranoid about Jim using his senses in front of Anders and his men; why the observer had demanded that he had to be at the detective's side. His Guide's own protective instincts were operating at full force and Jim knew from past experience that when his young partner was in that mindset, he would do anything to keep his Sentinel from harm -- including putting himself in the line of fire.
If Anders was the source of the danger, that would explain why his Guide had reacted so strongly toward him from the start. And if all of this did somehow involve his being a Sentinel, then it would also explain Anders' interest in Blair.
Jim inhaled sharply through clenched teeth, berating himself for not paying better attention to his friend's intuitive reactions. How could he have forgotten what they'd discussed after Brackett? They'd learned then, that any danger to the Sentinel was also an inherent threat to the Guide. If we didn't need to find those kids, I'd commandeer one of those jeeps and haul Sandburg out of here right now. Maybe I should do it anyway...
The ex-ranger's eyes automatically scanned the clearing, his mind already estimating their chances of escape, if it came down to what he was beginning to suspect. Blair's broken ramblings intruded on his own troubled deliberations and he switched on the transmitter for his headset.
"Sandburg!" There was a moment's silence before his partner's startled voice answered.
"Yeah?"
"You know that annoying habit you have of letting your mouth run separately from your brain? You're doing it again."
"Oh... sorry, Jim."
"I think we're going to have to make a move soon," Jim continued, hoping Blair would pick up on the meaning of his words. "Are you having any luck?"
"No... nothing yet. Just give me a couple more minutes."
Ellison continued his sweep around the clearing, changing his angle slightly so that his path would bring him closer to the bus. His guardian instincts were at full alert now and he didn't like being separated from the younger man. He wanted his Guide at his back, where he could protect him.
Blair tapped his fingers on one of the bench seats in frustration, his gaze roving over the interior of the bus one more time. There was nothing unusual to catch his eye, no foreign smells; just the remnants of what had been left behind -- the kid's backpacks, a few toys, books, a jacket or two. Nothing that he and Jim hadn't gone over already. So what was nagging at him? What was he missing? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating on how the air felt as it filled his lungs and then passed back out when he exhaled. Another breath and he felt himself relaxing.
He let his thoughts drift as his energies centered and his head cleared. In his mind's eye he walked up the aisle again, seeing everything in its place. A vision of his own cluttered room flashed in his head and he swallowed hard, his eyes snapping open in startled surprise.
Missing. It should be here, but it's not. Why not? It doesn't make sense. He scrambled through the aisle, searching the floor and the seats. When he reached the back of the bus his heart was thudding in his chest and he wasn't surprised to hear Jim's voice calling to him over the headset.
"Sandburg!"
"Hey, Jim... I'm... I'm still looking..." Blair stammered, searching for a way to communicate his suspicions to his partner without the others picking up on it.
"Things okay in there?" he heard the concern in the older man's voice and knew that Jim was 'listening', picking up on his rapid heartbeat. Okay, maybe he could use that.
"Yeah, I was just thinking. We're due for some downtime after this, right? Maybe we should just kick back and relax. Get some beer, rent a couple of movies."
"Sounds good, Chief," Jim replied. His partner's heart was still pounding, giving the lie to his easy-going banter. Something was up. "So, you have anything in mind? I'm not sure I'm in the mood for one of those foreign flicks with the subtitles."
"Well, actually I was thinking about one we've already seen. You remember that movie with Roy Scheider where he plays a cop and he's got this observer with him. You know, young guy -- jeez, I can never remember the actor's name. The flick with the helicopter that could go into whisper mode?"
Blair took a deep breath, covered the mouthpiece of his headset and started whispering.
["Jim, just play along here, okay? I think I've got a handle on part of this, and if I'm right, we've got serious trouble, man."]
There was a moment of silence and then Jim's voice came back over the headset. "Yeah, I know what you're talking about."
Blair immediately picked up on the conversation. "I really thought that the way they wrote the dialogue was pretty cool. It was like their conversation was operating on two different levels."
["I want you to try something, Jim. You're going to need to concentrate, so bend down and take a good look at the ground, like maybe you've found something."]
Blair took a quick look out the window and saw Jim take a few more steps before he dropped to one knee.
"I'm surprised you want to rent that one again. I seem to remember that you thought the observer got an awful lot of grief," Jim replied, making a show of picking through the rocks.
Blair allowed himself a small smile. "Yeah, you even got me my own JAFO hat, I remember. I'd still like to see it again. Besides I know you got off on the action stuff. All those explosions and gunfire."
["Remember how you piggy-backed your sight and smell earlier? I want you to try it again. Look to where I am and see yourself on the bus. Then open up your sense of smell."]
"You sure you want to test my patience right now, Chief?"
["There's a test going on here, man. But it's not one of mine. Just try it. Run back through everything you picked up earlier and filter it out. See if there's anything that we haven't already identified."]
"Hey, I'm always testing your patience, Ellison. That's what an observer does, right?" Blair took another peek at Jim and saw the older man casually look his way.
["That's right, Jim. Focus on me, see yourself here, next to me, then concentrate on what you can smell. There should be traces here that only the kids, Amanda and the driver would have left. That's what we missed before."]
With his heart pounding in his chest, Blair scanned the clearing quickly. He stiffened when he saw one of Anders' men watching Jim with just a little too much interest. He was about to say something when his partner's voice broke the silence.
"I don't know about you, Chief, but I'm not finding anything new."
"Shit, I was afraid you'd say that." Blair winced and slapped his hand over the transmitter and shook his head.
["Stupid. Sorry, Jim. This double conversation is hard to keep track of."]
"I'm not coming up with anything either. Sorry about the chatter, man. Maybe if I shut up for a few minutes I won't be such a distraction. I know you'll come up with something."
["Jim, the guy behind you is watching, get up and get moving again. Head toward the edge of the clearing as fast as you can without looking suspicious."]
"No problem, Chief. Sometimes a distraction's the best idea." Jim rose to his feet and began his search pattern again. But instead of heading away from the bus, he continued to angle toward it. "I think getting some movies is a good suggestion. But maybe something a little tamer. A little more introspective. What was the one that Daryl liked? 'Stand by Me?'"
"No way man, that's about some kids going to see a dead body. I get enough of that just hanging around with you."
["Damn it Jim, don't come over here. I don't know exactly what's going on, but one thing's for sure. There were NEVER any children on this bus. It's too cl
ean. Kids make messes, especially kids on a field trip. There should be candy wrappers, half-chewed wads of grape bubble gum, the residual smell of unwashed gym socks that would have lingered in the bottom of at least one of the backpacks... And you're not picking up on Amanda's perfume, or the stale reek of the driver's cigarettes either. If they'd been on the bus for the trip up here, there should be some trace of those odors for you to find. But nada. That's what we're missing -- the smelly, everyday debris of living, breathing bodies!"]
Blair looked out and saw Jim rounding the curve in one of his patterns. He was close to the edge of the clearing now, just coming up behind one of Anders' men.
["Jim, listen to me... The reason you can't pick up on anything, is that there's NOTHING to find. This is like a dressed set. Anders or somebody else put this together. They murdered Heckt and Amanda -- if those are even their real names -- to make the whole thing more convincing. To test you. This is a trap, man. You've got to get out of here, now!"]
"I don't know why you complain so much, Chief," Jim murmured, eyeing the man he was drawing even with. "The way you attract trouble, you're not any safer when I leave you behind."
["I'll be all right, man. I'm not sticking around here either. As soon as you make a break for it, I'm going out the back door and straight into the woods. Jim, please, get out of here! If I don't make it past them, I'll stand a lot better chance of surviving this if you're free."]
"Yeah, but I can always count on you getting me out of a jam, can't I?"
Blair's words, both whispered and over the headset stopped Ellison in his tracks. The whole kidnapping case, the murders -- it had all been a sham. It was a trap. A clever, well orchestrated plan to snare an unsuspecting Sentinel and his Guide. And they'd walked into it blindly, with no backup. Why they'd been set up took a back seat to getting the two of them out of there fast.
Jim took a quick look around the clearing, estimating their options for escape once again. Blair was right. They'd have a better chance if they split up and divided the efforts of their pursuers. But he didn't like it. All of his Sentinel instincts cried out for him to protect his Guide, not leave him to his own resources, abundant as they might be. Especially since he suspected that Anders was as interested in getting his hands on Blair as he was in capturing a Sentinel. But if they were both taken...
