“Sounds like everything is moving ahead.” An icy fist clutched at Ellison’s heart again. He paced the room as the other men talked quietly and finally stopped in front of his captain. “Simon, I don’t know about tomorrow yet. It doesn’t feel right. I can’t let him do this.”
“He seems confident that this man won’t—”
“Last night, he almost died, lying on the floor of a hospital, not breathing. What if it happens again? I won’t be there. Will this Pete be able to bring him back?”
“I thought we were going to see how Pete handles seeing him, then go from there. You’ll be able to tell how sincere the man is, won’t you?” Simon was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, watching Ellison as he continued to pace.
Nash glanced to Sandburg, keeping his voice as quiet as the other two men. “Jim, if you don’t mind me asking, how can you tell if the man is sincere or not?” He turned then, sharp eyes fixed on Ellison, who had stopped, caught frozen by the casual remark. “It stays in this room, but I think I have a right to know just how you propose to monitor this man, follow him from a distance without losing him, without him knowing he’s being followed, then listen in on conversations in this warehouse, determine how many men are inside, who they are and if they are armed, how safe Sandburg is and whether the SWAT team should move in — or whether the SWAT team should wait until your partner — your civilian partner, I might add — leads you to where Evan is being held. I have heard not one word about what kind of surveillance equipment you plan on using, I’ve seen no request put in for what you will need, or is this standard equipment you keep in that little toolbox in the back of your truck?”
Ellison looked away, staring out the window as he listened to the SIU captain’s very valid questions. How to answer them was another problem. He could hear Simon’s heartbeat picking up as the questions continued — and Sandburg’s.
“He has good hearing.” Sandburg’s eyes opened to meet Ellison’s as he turned. “He’s right, Jim. They have a right to know.”
“Define: good hearing. How good?” Harvey asked, leaning forward, fascinated.
“He can hear a fly walking on the ceiling in the hospital lobby, three floors below us.”
“Augmented?”
“Natural.”
“His eyesight, too? He’d have to, to monitor what was happening at that distance,” Harvey mused. “I can see it working ��� Yeah ��� You’d be able to sit across the street or down the block and casually see if the guy has sweat on his upper lip, or listen to his heartbeat to see if he’s telling the truth or not. Bet you’re a hell of a poker player. You could see the reflection of your opponents’ cards in their irises.” He looked over at Ellison with renewed interest. “Almost sentinel-like, if you had a few more senses enhanced.”
Ellison’s face remained frozen, but Sandburg smiled, sitting up in the bed, one hand over his ribs still. “Harvey, you surprise me. Not too many people have ever heard of sentinels. But he’d need five senses for that. Jim’s just an excellent cop with good hearing and good eyesight, and I’m confident in his ability to track me,” his guide said, smoothly deflecting one issue, while posing another.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Ellison said.
“I have. I want to do this.” Sandburg’s words were firm. Stubborn. “I’m sure it will work. Isn’t that enough?”
“Chief—” He stopped at one look from his guide, his arguments lost. How can you do this, sitting exhausted on a hospital bed? How can you stop me from stopping you?
The hospital phone rang, and he moved quickly to pick it up before Sandburg could. “Ellison.”
“It’s Frank Black. I’ve taken the information Blair gave us and tracked down the other two previous setups. This time he’s using police detectives. Two years ago, ten doctors were kidnaped in the mid-west, Chicago down to New Orleans, and three years before that, ten lawyers on the Eastern Seacoast. All, interestingly enough, with the same body type as the men taken here. None have been found alive. Several of the bodies have never been recovered. Because the doctors and lawyers all came from different cities, the connections in the cases weren’t noticed for some time, but from the method of operation on all three sets of kidnaping and murders, it appears we have the same man behind them.”
“Anything on him yet?”
“Nothing. I’m working on it.” Frank paused, then continued, “For this man to remain successful, he needs to remain hidden. It would be imperative for him to cover his tracks. He moves into an area, settles into a seemingly legitimate business, then sells it later and moves on. Blair had mentioned that he had heard the last base location was sold to a country and western singer in the mid-west.”
“We’ve passed that on — it’s being traced.”
“Good. I’ll continue here. I’ll meet with you tomorrow morning. Harold is letting me know where you’ll be.”
“Thank you.” Ellison hung up the phone and relayed the information to the others.
“He’s got away with this twice before,” Harvey exclaimed. “We are getting this guy, boss,” he said locking eyes with Nash, as though expecting an argument, “if I have to bring him down with my own bare hands, I’m going to get this guy.”
“Hey, I’m on your side, Bubba,” Nash said softly, hands up. “Don’t preach to the converted.”
“I think about what he’s doing to those men, and my mind goes ballistic.” Harvey jumped up from the empty bed and paced the room, much as Ellison had earlier. “I swear, if he so much as puts a bruise on Evan—” He stopped as he saw the look on Sandburg’s face. The two men stared at each other for a moment, before Harvey whispered, “What did he do to him? Do you know for sure what he did?”
Sandburg couldn’t answer, but before Ellison could phrase a reply, Nash stood and placed himself in front of his friend and co-worker.
“Harv, when Blair saw him last, Evan was alive.”
“Was he raped?” Harvey looked from Nash to Blair. “Was he raped?”
“Yeah. So was I,” Blair added, as though daring Harvey to make a reply.
Harvey sank to the edge of the bed, the wind taken from his anger. “I’m sorry. I knew that. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I just meant that I’m alive. I’m going to be okay.”
“I know.”
“You’ve got to keep thinking that way about Evan and the others.” Sandburg glanced up at the television, redirecting the man’s focus. “Harvey, it’s almost time for the news. Can you fix the reception?”
“What? Uh, yeah. Sure,” Harvey said, moving to the televison set. He spent another few seconds trying to clear up the reception, then they silently watched the televison reporter tell about the police raid on a semi-trailer parked illegally at an Interstate-5 rest stop, and the subsequent discovery of the bodies, plus one man who had survived the brutal attack and was now at Everett Hospital. The coverage switched to Simon Banks, standing tired and weary by the semi-trailer as the body bags were removed.
“Captain Banks of the Cascade Police?”
“Yes?” He turned and faced the camera and the reporter.
“Can you tell us what happened here? We understand four bodies were found, but also one man alive?”
Simon nodded. “Blair Sandburg, a police observer in Cascade, was found alive, but in serious condition at 11:30 a.m. He has been taken to Everett Hospital.”
“How long was he missing?” the reporter asked.
“He was kidnaped a week ago.”
“Any indication of what his injuries are?”
On the TV screen, Simon shook his head, looking at a loss for words. “He’s sustained some kind of head injury. He didn’t know who we were or who he was.”
“Permanent?”
“I have no idea at this time.”
“Any idea who did this?”
“I wish I did.”
The image shifted to a photograph of him, and Blair chuckled, turning to the Cascade captain. “Ever thought of being an
actor, Simon? That was some performance. But then, you always say I’m brain damaged.”
Instead of reacting with a come-back, Simon remained serious. “It was impossible to stand there and not be close to tears. You weren’t there when Harold Woodward identified his detective as one of the men killed I was the lucky one there.” He glanced to Nash, feeling the other man’s eyes on him. “I don’t want to see that look on anyone else’s face.”
“I agree,” Nash said.
“We’ll get him back,” Blair said. “It’s only Saturday. They have to keep him alive at least until Tuesday. That gives us two days to find the warehouse.”
The television report had changed to a press conference on the steps of Everett Hospital and they all quieted again to watch it.
Dr Morrison stood before a sea of microphones and gave the official report, repeating that the young police observer was suffering from severe trauma and amnesia. “He’s undergoing tests at this time, and I hope to have better news for you tomorrow morning.” The report when on to discuss the four bodies found, listing their names, their police departments, then going to interviews with family and friends. A full fifteen minutes was given over to the kidnaping, the murders of the police officers, the Internet link, then moved on to the rest of the news, promising more on the 11:00 newscast.
Nash groaned. “Who told them about the Internet tie-in? If anything, all that’s going to do is draw more people to the site.”
Simon shook his head. “It wasn’t mentioned this afternoon at the semi-trailer. They’ve got another source. Not surprising, with this many departments involved.”
Harvey flicked to the next station, and they watched the last minute of their coverage, again the footage of Dr Morrison giving his prognosis. “Well, if they are watching the news at all — and I’m sure they will if they hear that their semi-trailer was found — they’re going to be surprised that Blair survived.”
Simon’s cell phone rang and they all turned to stare at him as he dug it from his jacket pocket. “Banks here.”
Ellison picked up Harold Woodward’s voice.
“Banks? ��� I’ve got a meeting setup at 8:00 tonight with the Sheriff’s office in Everett. We’re dealing with three counties here — four if we count Skatgit County where Cascade is. The sheriffs and Emergency Response Team leaders from Kitsap and King Counties will be joining us at the Snohomish County office.”
“What county does Kingston fall in?”
“Our prime target area — Kingston, Bainbridge Island, and over the peninsula to Shine and Port Townsend — are all in Kitsap County. The semi-trailer was found in Snohomish County which handles Everett, Lynnwood, Edmonds and area. The Seattle-King County SWAT unit will be coordinating.”
“I’d like to be there, Captain,” Ellison said, his voice low.
Simon nodded that he’d heard. “Harold, I’d like to bring the others with me. Jim Ellison is trained in SWAT work and is particularly suited for this mission.”
“Bring Nash Bridges, too — he has a stake in this. Jim Ellison will coordinate getting Sandburg to the motel tonight — that’s his role. Everett Police Department will assist him as needed — he has only to ask. Harvey Leek can accompany them, then continue his own investigation via computer, as per his request; a secured line has been set up in his motel room. Snohomish County and the Lynwood Police will be providing undercover security tonight, watching the motel. We’ll contact Leek later at the motel and include him in a conference call when we’ve examined all the information we’ve put together so far. For now, Ellison’s primary concern should be his partner and making sure Sandburg is prepared for this assignment. If he’s not able to complete his role, we need to know asap so we can move on to a different plan. At this point, though, we don’t have many options. Our whole plan is based on one camera operator getting a regular cup of coffee at a 7-Eleven Convenience Store.”
“I understand. Nash and I will be at the meeting.” Simon disconnected his call and passed the main details on to the others.
Ellison stared at his partner until the young man shifted under the intense gaze. Despite the fact that Sandburg was sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, he was far calmer than he deserved to be. Confident. Determined. Cases scrolled through Ellison’s mind, times before when he had put Sandburg into danger by convincing him or allowing him to go undercover with him or alone, against known killers like the Iceman, Carasco, Ray Weston, Warren Chapel and others. What was so different about this time?
“Is it because it was my idea, Jim?” Sandburg asked softly, for his ears alone.
Ellison carefully sat on the edge of Sandburg’s bed, and asked, “Tell us again what you know about this guy. Every scrap of detail that you can remember. And why you think this will work.”
*
10:00 p.m.
Lynnwood, Washington
Blair turned as Jim closed the door of the motel room after him and locked it. The detective went immediately to the large duffle bag that held their things and rummaged through it, removing a few toiletry articles and taking them in to the bathroom. “The doctor said straight to bed,” he said, coming out again and going back to the duffle bag. “Your medication and toothbrush are on the counter. Do you want to have a shower first?”
“No. I’ll have one in the morning.” He was tired, more tired than he should have been, since he basically had laid around relaxing in the hospital all afternoon and evening. “What about you? You’re like this one big knot of muscle.”
“I’ll be fine once this is over.”
“A hot shower might help.”
“Maybe. Get ready for bed. You need some sleep before tomorrow.”
“I’m not arguing,” Blair answered. He unbuttoned his shirt, carefully shrugging out of it, then slipped out of his jeans, tossing both onto a chair, scarcely aware of Jim’s moving around him, taking the clothes and hanging them up, then steering him toward the bathroom. “Thanks.” He shuffled inside, shutting the door firmly to hovering sentinels. By the time he emerged fifteen minutes later, Jim was unpacked, ready for bed, with the only light in the room the lamp between the beds. “I’m beat. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble sleeping tonight.”
“I’m going to go over the case information again. I’m not sure when Simon will get in, but we’ll be quiet.” Jim stood motionless as Blair moved in front of him.
“This will work, Jim.”
“I don’t like it.” Ellison’s body hadn’t relaxed at all. His jaw flexed, never a good sign.
I’m too tired for this. “I don’t want to argue with you about it.” Blair stumbled toward his bed, crawling beneath the covers and turning his back on his partner. It’ll work. Evan and others are still there. We’ll get them out, then we can get out of here and go back to Cascade and back to the loft.
Earlier that evening, while still in the hospital, he had spoken with Rafe on the phone. It was good to talk to him, to know he was really alive and would be out of the hospital in a week or so. Rafe had felt guilty about what had happened, as though he had been negligent by allowing four armed men to shoot him and kidnap Blair instead.
But like Harvey had said, Blair would not have wished it otherwise. Maybe Rafe would have been sold, just like Evan was supposed to be. Maybe Rafe would have been beaten and abused, like the murdered men had been. It could have just as easily been Rafe dead, instead of one of the other men, two who were found strangled and two shot in the head
Blair realized with a horrible shudder that he had heard the shots when they had been killed. He had been standing just outside the semi-trailer that first morning.
Maybe Rafe would have been raped, like they had been. Like I was.
Though he was trying to remain quiet, he made a sniffling sound that drew Jim to his side. “Chief?”
“Get in bed,” Blair ordered, swiping at his eyes without turning around, not caring what he sounded like.
“Chief?” Jim slid in beside him, touching his shoulder.
“I need to sleep. And you need to sleep. I need your senses working tomorrow.”
“It’s too risky.”
“It’ll work,” Blair whispered back. It has to.
“He’s hurt you already. What makes you think he won’t hurt you again?”
“He won’t. I know him.” Blair shivered. “Jim?”
The sentinel pulled him closer, half-growling when he saw how cold Blair’s skin was. He felt chilled to his bones suddenly. Jim reached up and folded the bedspread so it doubled over Blair’s side of the bed.
“He wasn’t that bad, Jim,” he murmured, allowing the ministrations.
“Don’t defend him.”
“I’m not. Compared to the other guys, though, Pete was a saint.” The medication had kicked in, putting him to sleep. At least he’d stop thinking about it for a while.
“He raped you.”
The words woke him up a little. “Actually, I don’t think he did. I think it was Jurgen.”
“Do you remember anything about ��� what happened?” Jim asked, as though he hated to ask the question.
“I remember thinking that I had been raped. I don’t remember why I thought that, but I did. My body remembered it, too.”
“He raped you.” It seemed strange when Jim said it. Jim was angry about what had happened, furious that someone had violated his friend and his partner and guide. And angry at his own helplessness, his inability to stop it from happening. Maybe his fear that it would happen again. Then Jim asked it aloud. “What if he does it again?”
The thought had occurred to Blair. What if it happened again? What if he went back to the warehouse and was raped and this time remembered it? Was conscious through it? If it gets Evan and the others back, so what? So fucking what? Their lives are at stake. Even if I have to play kissy-face with an obsessed photographer, it will be worth it if I can help rescue them. No one else can do it.
The words had been going through his brain all day. No one else can do it. No one else can do it.
At what cost was one life? Two lives? Five men were still kidnaped — five lives at risk, and he could do something about it. How could he not do it?
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