by K Ryn
"You know it, partner," Jim said softly, his voice low with emotion. With a fast step to his left, he caught the man standing near him with a hard jab to the jaw, downing him instantly. Pulling his gun from behind his back, the ex-ranger swung around and aimed at the gas tank on one of the jeeps, firing as soon as it was in his sights. The explosion rocked the ground and sent Anders and his men lunging for cover. Jim's attention shifted to the bus and he saw the emergency door at the back fly open with Blair hanging off of it. He waited just long enough to see the younger man scramble into the woods and then he too disappeared into the forest.
Blair kept his head down and ran, forcing his way through the densely packed trees, trying to put as much distance between himself and the clearing as he could before Anders sent his men in pursuit. He allowed himself a satisfied smirk at his partner's distraction. It had definitely caught them off guard. Hell, it even caught me off guard. Trust Jim to come up with something loud and earth shattering.
He ducked under a low-hanging branch and tucked himself against the trunk of a large tree, listening intently. For a few seconds, he heard nothing except the pounding of his own heart. He took several deep breaths, working to fill his aching lungs with the thin air. Blair snapped his head around at a sharp cracking sound from somewhere to his left and frantically scanned the woods, trying to locate the source. The noise repeated and he took off again, angling slightly to his right, but still headed away from the clearing. He wove in and out of the cover of the trees, more concerned about staying hidden than in trying to go in a specific direction, confident that if he could keep moving, he'd be all right. Jim was out there somewhere. The Sentinel was more than equipped to find him, wherever he ended up. All he needed to do was stay out of the hunters' sights.
As he ran, he forced his mind to function at more than just escape mode. He couldn't be stupid about this. He couldn't afford to make a mistake and end up getting caught. He did not want to be the leash which brought Jim to heel. He didn't think that Anders' men would shoot him down -- not after all the trouble they'd gone through to set this up -- but he wasn't going to take that chance.
Who are these guys? They definitely weren't search and rescue and if they were FBI they were probably rogue agents. Great. And here I thought the CIA had a corner on that market.
Whoever they were, what they wanted was perfectly clear. This whole scenario had been set up to test and reveal Jim's abilities. How had they found out about the Sentinel, anyway? He and Jim had tried to keep a low profile, but it was obvious that they'd succeeded in piquing someone's interest. Maybe it was as simple as having too good an arrest and conviction record. They certainly had that, especially in the last two years. Maybe that was all it had taken.
Or maybe it's that stupid thesis that you wrote. Jeez, it's like a best seller. Who would have known that it would be at the top of the Militant Reader's charts, instead of gathering the dust it deserves? We get out of this Jim, and I promise you, I'm going to hunt down every last copy and burn them. I should have seen this coming. Damn it, I should have listened to my gut instincts and never let either one of us get on that helicopter. Now we're out here in the middle of nowhere with a small army ready to pick us off and lock us away.
Lock them away, or worse.
Winded, Blair pulled to a stop and bent over, struggling to control not only his ragged breathing, but his overactive imagination. He didn't even want to think about what these guys would do to Jim in a lab, what kind of experiments they'd try to see what made him tick. The thought of Jim Ellison as a caged panther made him shudder. It would kill him.
~So what are you going to do to make sure that doesn't happen?~
Whatever I have to do.
~Whatever?~
"Whatever it takes. I'm the Sentinel's Guide. He's mine to protect." Blair whispered the words defiantly as he started moving again, determined to stay ahead of the hunters.
The clearing looked like a war-zone when Bailey and his men jogged in. Thick black smoke boiled off of the jeep, spiraling into the darkening sky. The overpowering smells of super-heated metal and melted plastic filled the air, while flames still roared over the vehicle's charred framework. A crosswind swept low-lying waves of smoke through the clearing. In the midst of it all stood Anders, barking orders at his scurrying men.
"It's about time you got here," the older man snarled as the tracker approached.
"We were supposed to be an hour away," Bailey answered with a shrug. "I figured you'd want to stick with the plan." The tracker glanced around the clearing and then turned his attention back to his superior. "I take it Ellison finally got wise to the game."
"Everything seemed to be going fine and then something spooked him," Anders grumbled. "He shot out the gas tank on the jeep and in the confusion, he and Sandburg slipped away."
"Together?"
"No. We at least got that break." The older man gestured toward the far side of the clearing where the man Jim had decked was being helped to his feet. "Ellison overpowered Chambers and took off from there. The kid was in the bus. He went out the back and straight into the forest."
Bailey took one more quick look around and nodded. "Okay, they've only got a few minute's head start. I'll have the men in gear and armed in five, and we'll head out after Ellison."
He started to turn away, but Anders grabbed his arm. "Send whoever's expendable out after Ellison. I want you to concentrate on finding Sandburg."
"You've got to be joking," Bailey objected. "That little hippie can barely tell his right from his left. There's no way he's going to make it out of this park. Chances are he's already going in circles."
"Then you won't have a problem finding him, will you?"
"It's a waste of time," Bailey growled in disgust.
"Are you questioning my orders, Lieutenant?"
"No, sir. Just trying to understand them. I thought Ellison was the one you've been itching to get your hands on, yet you're telling me to let him walk and go after some punk kid."
"For a man who prides himself on his observation skills, you're surprisingly blind to the dynamics of what's been happening here today," Anders remarked.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that in his own way, the kid's as important, and as unique, as Ellison. Don't worry. Our good detective's not going anywhere. Not without his partner. You bring Sandburg back here and Ellison will follow. He doesn't have any choice."
Bailey eyed the older man skeptically.
"You'll get your chance at Ellison later," Anders promised. "Remember what I said about sending only men you're willing to lose after him. He was one of the best that Covert Ops had and he doesn't appear to have lost his edge. They won't have much luck catching him, but they can keep him busy while you're going after the kid. We'll get this mess cleaned up and set up a temporary camp. Bring Sandburg back... unharmed, Lieutenant. And do it quickly. I want to stay on schedule. If Ellison doesn't cooperate, we'll move the kid to our home base at first light. That'll cut his options even further."
Nodding grudgingly in agreement to Anders' orders, Bailey saluted sharply and spun on his heel, whistling a cadence to bring his men to order.
On his hands and knees, Blair cautiously backed away from the edge of the deadly drop-off he'd nearly tumbled into, rising on shaky legs only after he could no longer see down into the darkened ravine. He continued to retreat until he felt the rough, unyielding shape of a tree at his back. Leaning into the reassuring support for a few moments, he closed his eyes and tried to push the last whirling vestiges of vertigo out of his head, concentrating on simply filling his lungs. Too shaken to name any individual gods or goddesses at that particular moment, he sent up a generic whisper of thanks to whomever or whatever had kept him from taking that headlong plunge.
Still eyeing the darker line of blackness which indicated the edge of the chasm, he pushed away from the tree, moving to his left. Cursing silently, he realized he was going to have to either double back on his previous trail t
o find a way around the ravine or make an attempt to climb down. Neither option was very attractive. Backtracking meant running the risk of meeting up with some of Anders' men, but the alternative was trying to make the risky descent in the rapidly fading light.
He decided to keep moving along the rim of the drop-off, not quite following the same path which had brought him there, his gaze flickering uneasily from the surrounding forest to the ravine edge and back again. A sudden noise startled him and he halted, straining to identify the source of the sound, hoping desperately that it was Jim. Unshakable as his faith was in his Sentinel, he was starting to worry -- it had been nearly an hour since they'd escaped from the clearing and he still hadn't seen any sign of his partner.
Nor had he seen any real signs of pursuit. Initially he'd been grateful for that, but now Blair was starting to wonder if Anders had sent all his hounds coursing after Jim. If he had, even the Sentinel with all of his skills, would be hard pressed to evade them.
The thought struck him suddenly that he was still standing like a dazed, frightened rabbit. He shook himself in disgust. Pushing himself to move again, he ducked around a dense stand of brush.
And came face to face with Agent Dunn.
"Stay right where you are," the man warned, his rifle already targeting Blair's chest.
Slowly, Blair raised his hands, hoping it appeared more like an entreaty than surrender.
"Hey, man. Am I glad to see you," he babbled, assuming his most endearingly innocent expression. "I gotta tell you... that explosion scared the shit out of me. I just took off running. Guess I got kind of lost."
A look of confusion filled Dunn's face and Blair started to take a step forward, hoping to get closer to the man and somehow get control of the gun. The bone chilling touch of metal at the back of his neck and a familiar, deadly voice, stopped him cold.
"Good thing we found you then."
Blair remained motionless, barely breathing as Bailey shifted to stand beside him, the rifle barrel now digging into the right side of his neck.
"Where's Ellison?" the tracker asked, prodding him with the gun.
"Jim?" Blair strove to keep the bluff going as long as he could, his mind racing to find a way out of the mess he found himself in. "You mean he took off, too? That's a surprise. He's usually --"
Blinding pain shot through Blair's right side as Bailey pivoted the rifle and rammed the hard wooden stock into his ribs. The force of the blow staggered him sideways and he dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. The tracker grabbed him by the hair and yanked backward, keeping him on his knees and forcing his head up. Blair caught a glimpse of something shiny and froze as the razor-sharp blade of a knife touched his throat.
"Don't bother with the games, kid. I've wasted enough time looking for you and I'm out of patience," Bailey hissed. "I want Ellison."
Defiance reared its head and Blair went with the angry sensation, letting it fill him and push the fear away. "So you got stuck with me, huh, Bailey? Count yourself lucky. Jim would eat you for lunch."
He felt a flash of relief when Bailey's grip on his hair released and then he was reeling sideways, crashing to the hard ground, the left side of his face burning from the impact of the blow. The stab of agonizing pain which shot through his injured side made him struggle for breath again as Bailey's booted kick flipped him to his back. Before he could move, the tracker had dropped down next to him, one knee planted in his chest to hold him in place while the knife pressed menacingly against his throat.
"Take it easy, Bailey. The Colonel wants him in one piece," Dunn called out.
Lost in the haze of his throbbing head and the pressure in his ribs, Blair found himself wondering idly who the 'Colonel' was, and if he was a new player in this bizarre contest, or if it was someone he'd already met. Bailey's next words answered that question succinctly.
"Anders may think you're something special, but I don't, punk," the tracker snarled, pressing the blade harder against the skin under Blair's chin. "As far as I'm concerned, you're just a piece of bait to attract Ellison. Now tell me where he is!"
Blair stared up into Bailey's eyes, saw the murderous glare and made a quick decision. He'd promised himself he wouldn't be used to make Jim surrender and that was exactly what this man intended.
"Go to Hell," he whispered.
Blair watched the rage wash over the bigger man's features and then the heel of Bailey's hand thrust against his chin, pushing his head backward. He felt the abrupt absence of the pressure of the knife blade, then felt the sharp tip touch the side of his neck. With a burst of clarity, he knew who had slit the throats of the teacher and the driver. A strange sense of calm settled over him and he started to close his eyes, his mind forming a silent apology to his Sentinel for dying and leaving him alone.
His eyes flashed open at a strangled cry from behind him and he looked up into Bailey's angry face. The tracker started to rise and then he staggered, his expression changing quickly from anger to amazement. In stunned surprise, Blair watched as Bailey's hand went to his chest, wrapping around the hilt of a knife that protruded from his ribs. Then the man was toppling forward, blood spurting from the killing wound.
Blair grunted in pain as Bailey's dead weight crashed onto him. Pinned to the ground, he could feel the handle of the knife digging into his own chest and wondered fleetingly if he'd somehow been stabbed himself. He tried to get his arms free so that he could maneuver the body off, but his dazed mind wasn't sending very clear signals to his aching body.
He felt a growing wetness through his shirt and realized it was Bailey's blood. He took a gasping breath and almost retched at the stench. Revulsion pushed him to try to get free once more. This time he had help. Strong hands slid beneath his shoulders, grasped him under the armpits and eased him backward. Blair barely stifled a moan of relief as the weight of the tracker's body slid aside.
He didn't resist as he was pulled several feet away and then urged to sit up. Nor did he argue when the powerful arms wrapped around him. Instead, he instinctively leaned forward, seeking the warmth and safety of his Sentinel's presence.
At any other time, the thunderous pounding of his Guide's rapidly beating heart would have been cause for alarm. Now, it was a vital reassurance -- proof the younger man was still alive and that life was coursing through his veins, not pooling out onto the hard, cold ground. The Sentinel grimaced at the thought -- he'd almost been too late.
Holding Blair in a fiercely protective embrace, Jim eyed the bodies of the two men he had killed. He felt the twinge of sadness which he always experienced whenever he took a life, but he felt no guilt. It had been a choice between his Guide's life and theirs, meaning that there had been no choice at all. He would harbor no regrets about the actions he'd taken. He'd kill again if he had to, if that's what it took to keep the younger man safe.
Lifting his head, the Sentinel opened up his senses, scanning their immediate surroundings. A gentle breeze caressed the hairs on the back of his neck and he sampled it, filtering out the scents that belonged to the forest, finally finding those of the men that pursued them. Not content to rely only on his sense of smell and taste, he let his hearing range outward. In a few moments, he confirmed the hunters' locations. Loosening his grip, he gave Blair's shoulders a gentle squeeze.
"We need to move. There's a spot where we'll be safer. It's not far. Think you can make it?"
Blair gave a brief nod. Jim eased him upright, wincing as his Guide stifled a cry of pain. The Sentinel wrapped an arm around the younger man and began to steer him away when Blair hesitated.
"Wait..." Blair whispered, shifting them toward Bailey's body.
"Chief --"
"My pack," the younger man murmured in explanation, straining to reach down for the bag.
With a deft grab, Ellison caught the straps of the backpack and slung it over his own shoulder. That seemed to appease Blair and he leaned into Jim's grip, nodding again for the older man to lead the way. Attuned to the pursuit beh
ind them, the Sentinel led his Guide deeper into the forest, seeking the place of refuge he'd found earlier.
Trusting Jim to keep them safe, Blair told his muddled thoughts to take a break -- -ordering them not to return until they made more sense -- and focused on simply staying upright and keeping his feet moving. Surprisingly, after a few minutes of concentration, the little mind game seemed to work, although he felt strangely disconnected to his body -- as if someone else was in control. He ignored the odd sensation because the results were worth it. Breathing past the distracting pain in his side became easier and his pace adjusted to mirror his partner's, moving with the older man instead of dragging against him.
The smooth rhythm they'd established suddenly altered and Blair found himself blinking in dazed confusion as Jim led him into a rock-sheltered thicket. He sank to the ground at the older man's gentle urging, shivering with cold when he leaned back into one of the boulders. Warmth wrapped around him immediately and he tugged Jim's jacket closer around his body, nodding a silent 'thanks' to his partner. The Sentinel knelt beside him, the slightly cocked head and tense posture indicating that Jim was checking things out, making sure there were no unpleasant surprises nearby. With a quick glance Blair saw that the refuge that the older man had found for them was easily defensible, even to his unpracticed eye. He allowed himself to relax a bit, feeling more confident now that he and his partner were together again.
Blair shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position which wouldn't put as much strain on the sore muscles in his side. The movement brought Jim's attention back to him. Even in the gloom, the aching Guide could see the concern in the Sentinel's eyes.
