by Carol Roi
"You shouldn't keep secrets from your partner, Jim." Shit, who am I to offer such advice?
"I'll call him later to let him know I'm okay." He gestures for me to stay put as he runs up the stairs by the outer wall.
"What if someone decides to tap his phone?" Gods, how many times have I done just that to find my targets? I'm so sick of playing that particular game. I want out, now, damn it. I sigh as I realize I can't just give up the life I've led for so long. Not after Llewyllyn has found me an assignment in exchange for the information he gave me.
"I'll use a cutout," his voice drifts down to me from above. "We've used them before in situations like this, so there's little chance we'll be tracked." I turn around to see him coming back down the steps, a small over night bag clutched in one hand, and what looks to be a rifle case in the other. "Let's get your stuff, then I'll follow you to the station."
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How many times have I done the cut and run? Saigon. Yeah, did it there. Had to after helping Azir break into the French Consulate. Germany. Got shot while helping the underground resistance set the explosives on the bridge that was to have taken Rommel out. Argentina. After discovering who my husband and I helped get into that country, I couldn't live with myself. Then there was Mycinia. I had tired of my Teacher, of masquerading as his 'wife' and using my feminine wiles against his enemies for seven decades. I 'killed' him one night, fleeing the city/state in the darkness and praying the entire time that I'd never have to face Methos in a Challenge. I've done it so many times, in so many countries over the years, that I've learned to travel extremely light. I'll either come back for the rest of my stuff later, or beg Diandra to send them to me. But if she's half as pissed off at me as I think she will be, she'll probably burn it all.
LaFollet still hasn't shown up before Jim and I leave, so the detective leaves a note for him, pinned to the door of apartment 308. I don't even ask what it says, trusting the man to say the right things to put my Student and Bodyguard at ease. I pull into the garage by the Central Precinct, Jim's truck right on my back bumper, less than an hour after I return to Diandra's home. I manage to find an open slot, two of them actually, and park the Lexus.
Before I can even open the car door, Jim's there, bags in hand and helping me out. I understand we're to change vehicles, just in case anyone was watching us when we left the brownstone. I grab up the large backpack I had packed, allowing the detective to escort me through the garage to the elevators and up to his department. Setting his bags down by his desk, he motions for me to take a seat while he walks towards his commander's office.
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Captain Simon Banks looked up at the perfunctory knock on his door in time to see Ellison walk in without being invited. "Shut the door, Jim." Waiting until the man was standing in front of his desk, Simon tossed the detective two sets of keys. "The first two are to a cabin just outside of town that no one knows I inherited a year ago. Not even Daryl knows about it, yet."
"Thanks, Captain. I promise, I'll take good care of the place and you'll never even know that I was there."
Simon snorted. "Just as long as you don't blow it up like you did my one in Seacouver." Flipping a paper around so that Jim could read it, he said, "Sign that. I'll keep it here in my safe until you give the other set of keys back to me in a few days."
"A waiver?"
"I ought to make you sign one for the cabin. Jim, the way you drive, it's the only way I was able to convince the sergeant in charge of the motor pool to release the Jeep Cherokee." Simon held up a hand before the man could protest. "Before you ask, no I didn't tell Sergeant Foley why you needed to use the Jeep."
Jim signed the insurance waiver, a promise to the department that he'd pay for any damage to the borrowed vehicle out of his own pocket if needed. Handing the paper back to his Captain, he asked, "So, do I get a map to this new cabin of yours, or do I have to use my sentinel skills to try and find it?"
Chuckling, Simon reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a sector map with the route to his cabin already marked on it. Then, before handing it over to the sentinel, he pulled it back. "Maybe I should let you try to find it on your own, Jim. Make it one of those tests that Sandburg is always making you do that you pretend to hate so much." When the detective smiled, he handed over the map.
"When did you figure that out, Simon?" Jim took the map, studied it, then folded it and placed it in his coat pocket.
"What? That you really don't mind the tests the kid comes up with?" The Captain grinned evilly as he pulled his afternoon cigar out of the case that his son had given him for his birthday. "When I see you putting what he's taught you to good use and you find the needle in the haystack of evidence that brings a perp down."
"Busted. Just don't tell Sandburg."
"Do I look like I have a death wish, Ellison?" Simon didn't even wait for the man to answer before making 'shooing' motions. "Now, get out of here. And Jim?" The sentinel turned to look at him before he opened the door. "Watch your back."
"I will, sir."
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Jim closed the office door and made his way back towards Lee and his desk. "Lee? It's all set. Let's go." Grabbing up his bags, handing hers to her as she stood up, they started to leave the bullpen, only to run into Inspector Megan Connor by the elevators.
"Jim? Going somewhere?" The Australian's eyes widened slightly as she spotted the diminutive redhead behind him. One eyebrow shot up. "Not exactly the best place to start out on a date."
The door to the elevator opened up and the detective guided his 'protected witness' into the car, holding the door open long enough to glare at Megan and reply to her hidden allegation. "It's not a date, Connor." Letting go of the door, the steel closed off what ever answer the woman had been about to say. But he still heard her anyway.
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"Yeah, right. Overnight packs and a lovely gell?" Megan muttered under her breath as she pivoted angrily and headed in to the Major Crimes. Her reaction to Jim's 'catting around' with a witness, or a possible suspect, bothered her. God, what if there was something to what Sandy had said earlier? No, she refused to believe that. She was free to date whomever she wanted and so was Jim. Pushing images of Jim spending a romantic evening with Lee Eolia out of her mind, she went back to work.
The drive out to the rustic cabin is anything but restful. I'm still puzzled by Jim's actions while on the phone to his Captain. It reminded me of something, but what? If the drive had been a bit longer, I might have found the answer in the dark tunnels of my mind, but it wasn't. Less than an hour after leaving the police garage in a fully equipped Jeep, Jim turned off the main road and shortly pulled up to the cabin.
The snow which had fallen last night and this morning has left the surrounding woodland covered in a soft blanket of white, and the peace and serenity of the place settles my nerves. Carefully leading the way from the car to the door, Jim's long legs make short work of the six inch deep, ice encrusted snow.
The temperature in the cabin is just as cold as the outside, but without the wind that is gusting from the sea, it seems a bit warmer. Noticing a light switch, I flip it and the place is lit up by the soft glow of lights from a few overhead fixtures. "This is a safe house?" I ask as I cross the wooden floor to an overstuffed leather couch and drop my bag on the hand-hewn coffee table.
Jim drops his two bags by the door before answering me. "Not really. It's my Captain's hideaway spot. Far enough from the city to allow him the illusion of solitude, yet close enough that he can respond within twenty minutes if he's needed back at the station." He's opening the door again, the wind howling through the opening. "I'll be right back, I'm going to grab some more firewood." And with a flurry of blowing snow and a slam
, he's gone.
Taking in my surroundings, I spy the small pile of wood near a large woodstove and decide to make myself useful. Besides, I'm actually starting to get chilled. Using the smaller pieces of wood as kindling, I manage to get the fire started. By the time Jim returns, the fire is blazing and pumping heat into the room. He's carrying a heavy load of amazingly dry wood, and I help him to place the fuel in a stack near the stove.
"Thanks for starting that." I watch as he holds his hands out over the hot stove, trying to warm them up.
"You're welcome." I push away the desire to help him warm up, instead crossing over to the small kitchen. I start to explore the cabinets. A few minutes later, I return to the stove and place a large kettle, filled with water, on top to heat. "I found some teas and a wonderful selection of coffees in there," I point back into the kitchen. "Which would you prefer?"
"Whatever." I watch as he strips out of his heavy coat, amazed that he can do so since the room is still quite cold to me, and tosses the leather toward the couch. "You really don't have to do anything, Lee. I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you."
"Maybe I just need to do something." I shrug deeper into my coat. I'll have to wait until later to remove it, since I sure as heck don't need Jim to discover I hid my zaitoichi sword in it. "I'm just not used to being sequestered." I turn my back to him, ready to go digging further through the kitchen, only to have him place strong, gentle hands on my shoulders.
"Lee, it's for your own good." He turns me around and I find myself looking up into those incredible blue eyes of his. "I've seen some of what you can do, what you're capable of. But this person has tried to kill you twice. They killed one of your bodyguards, brought LaFollet into the world of the long lived, and would've killed Diandra if she hadn't been Immortal."
I drop my gaze. "I know, Jim. I never would've stuck around if I thought there was a chance I'd bring harm to others." For the first time in many centuries, I feel soiled by what I've done all my life. I want to tell him, I really do, but how does one tell a person you hardly know that you're Immortal? That you've been a spy, an agent provocateur, longer than he's been alive?
"Let's get your stuff put up in the bedroom, and then I'll see what the Captain left around here in the way of food." I allow Jim to give me a gentle shove towards the hall off the living area. I stop only long enough to pick up my backpack, then go in search of the room.
Like I've been trained to do, I scan my new environment -- looking for possible escape routes, items that can be turned into emergency impact weapons, things of that nature. My surveillance is rewarded in a way I didn't expect. I find a carefully concealed thermostat. Grinning, I switch the heater on and follow the sounds to a gas-fired furnace. After ducking back into the living area for the long matches that I'd used to light the wood stove, I light the pilot light. With the temperature set to 70 degrees, I'm hoping the cabin will heat up soon. I find not one, but two bedrooms in the back of the log home, as well as the bathroom. One of the rooms has a large bed in it, the smaller room has a double, and I opt for the smaller of the two.
Stepping back out to the living area after I've shed my coat and hidden my sword, I find Jim in the kitchen putting something together on the gas range.
"I get the idea that you found a heating unit?" I smile as I nod, carrying the matches back to their home by the wood-burning stove. "Good. I've started a small stew. Should be ready in about an hour."
"It smells good so far." I test the kettle and, finding it hot enough, carry it into the kitchen where I spot two large mugs with tea bags in them. "I take it you decided you wanted tea?" I quip as I pour the nearly boiling water into the cups.
"Yeah, just seemed right."
Placing the kettle on the counter top, I nearly jump out of my skin when a loud snapping noise sounds just outside the cabin. I'm still wearing my fanny pack and am reaching for my Lady Smith when he stops me.
"Lee? It was just a tree branch falling." His hands go around my waist. I feel him unsnap the strap of my waist bag and then he's holding it. "Why don't you put this on the table?"
I nod, taking the bag from his hand, and cross back over to the coffee table. "I can't believe I'm so jumpy."
"All the more reason to have your gun on the table where I can see it." He follows me into the living area, and we sit down on the couch, together, but not. There has to be nearly 12 or more inches separating us. "Don't be ashamed of your reactions. I'd probably be skittish, too, if I'd gone through what you have in the last few days."
Curling both my hands around the warmth of the mug, I sip at the tea carefully, then hold the heat in my lap. "I'm not usually this bad. Too much training."
"Training?" He's looking at me with those light blue eyes that seem to bore right into my soul. I need to tell him. If he can handle that truth, then maybe he'll be able to handle the rest.
"At The Farm. I'm a NIO, Jim. Have been for years."
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Dee pulled her Wagoneer into the parking lot behind 852 Prospect, cocking her head to one side slightly, checking to make sure the area was safe. Satisfied, she turned off the engine and glanced over at Blair. "Any luck?"
Shaking his head, he clicked off his cell phone. "I don't understand it. Rafe said Jim left a couple hours ago. He should be home by now. I left a message on his voice mail on both his work phone and his cell. I have a bad feeling about this, Dee."
Closing her eyes, she stretched out her hearing again, feeling Blair's hand covering hers where it rested on the seat, giving her an anchor. "There's no one upstairs." Giving his fingers a squeeze, she opened her eyes. "Come on, let's go pack a couple things and see if he left you a note or anything. Then we can swing by the station and beg Megan to put us up for the night. I'm just not comfortable staying here, now that Ventriss knows where to find us."
When they got off the elevator on the third floor, both of them spotted the envelope thumb-tacked to Diandra's door. "What the hell?" Removing the tack, Dee opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper within, ignoring the fact that it was clearly addressed to "LaFollet" on the outside.
Peering over her shoulder at the single sheet of paper, Blair said, "That's Jim's handwriting." He read the short note out loud. "I've taken Lee to a safe house for the night. She'll call you once she's settled. Ellison."
"Spare and efficient as usual. Just enough to tell us nothing. I'm going to wring his neck." Dee unlocked the door to her place as Blair tacked the note back up.
"Do you suppose Lee told Jim what happened? Reading between the lines there, I'd say she only gave him the bare bones and conveniently forgot this afternoon's incident was a direct result of her lies."
Dee shrugged. "Probably. From what you've found out, I don't think Lia's told the truth in a long time. I think you may be right about her having lived in the shadows for too long. But she still has her own code of honor, Lobo, even though it's not the same as yours or mine. And she genuinely cares about Jim. She won't harm him."
"I know you're right, but I'd still feel better if I knew where they were. I'm going to run across the hall and see if Jim left me a note there. I'll pack a bag, too."
Dee remained in the living area for a moment, listening to Blair enter the apartment next door and start to rummage through his room, cursing at the glass that was still scattered everywhere. With a smile and a mental note to herself to pick up a shop-vac the next day, she headed upstairs to her bedroom.
Coming back downstairs a few minutes later, she was just selecting a few extra goodies from her weapon collection when she felt the unmistakable buzz of an approaching Immortal. The sound of the door to her loft being tried reached her ears, and she drew her sword, crossing to press against the wall next to the door. As it swung open, she waited until the other Immortal had crossed the threshold before lunging at him. The newcomer almost didn't catch her blade with his. Dee barely pulled her follow-up punch in time to
avoid hitting LaFollet in the face. "Jan-Michel! Damn it, I could have killed you!"
"Diandra! Where in the hell is Eolia?" Backing off a few steps, he lowered his sword cautiously.
She gave him a grim smile. "Didn't get a chance to read the note, I see."
His gaze dropped to the crumpled envelope in his hand. "No. I felt your buzz and thought maybe the note could wait."
"Good choice. Lia's with Ellison in a safe house, and before you ask, no, I don't know where. I just now got back and read it myself."
He looked back up at her, his expression puzzled. "Where did you go?"
Her lips pulled back over her teeth transforming her tight smile into a snarl. "Blair and I went hunting, but we didn't find the Immortal who attacked me. Did you have any luck?"
Jan shook his head. "No. I called in some favors from some fellow Watchers too, but no one knows this guy, or where he's staying. I came back to see if Lee had found anything out."
