Calling the Beast

by K Ryn

  That's not fluorescent light... that's daylight...

  Blair pushed himself away from the wall and opened the door to the last stall. About a foot from the ceiling was a small window, and roughly three feet below that, a wall-mounted baby changing station. The fragments of a wild plan began to take shape in his head.

  Hey, Jim, there might be another way out after all, he reported eagerly, climbing up on the toilet to check it out. There's a window in here... in the last stall. It looks like it can be opened, but it's been wired into the security system.

  // How big is it? //

  Blair stared at it measuringly and swallowed hard. Big enough for the kids and Amanda, I think.

  There was a long moment of silence.

  // But not for you. //

  The anthropologist sighed. No such luck, man. Jim's muttered curse mirrored his own sentiments exactly. But that's no reason not to give this a shot, Blair said firmly, pushing his own fears aside. Look... call the museum office. Tell them what's going on and get them to shut off the security system. If they keep their cool, they can probably clear the few early morning patrons out of the rest of the museum without raising any suspicions, and they can keep anyone else from coming inside. The rest of the staff can sneak out of the building through the emergency exit. I'll get Amanda and the kids organized to go out through here. Once they're safe, you guys can storm the gates and take down the trench coat brigade.

  // Sounds good in theory, Chief, but you're forgetting one thing, // Jim countered softly.

  Yeah, what's that? Blair asked, jumping down from his perch.

  //From what you described, you're going to have to pass an open doorway to get Amanda and the children from the classroom to the restroom. Hennesey and his buddies aren't going to miss your little parade. //

  Don't worry, Blair answered, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. You just get the powers that be to cut the juice and have someone waiting outside the window to help the kids out. Oh, and keep this line open, okay? I'm going back to the classroom and turning the phone over to Amanda. She'll let me know when you've got the system down. I've got a plan to handle the rest. // Damn it, Chief, what kind of plan? //

  Nothing complicated, man. I'm just going to tell the kids a story.

  Blair took a deep breath and pasted his most innocent expression on his face before he left the relative safety of the tiled refuge and stepped out into the corridor. It had taken three, long, tense minutes to persuade his stubborn, extremely unhappy Sentinel into seeing things his way, but he'd finally succeeded. Behind the closed door of the restroom, his arguments had seemed valid, but now, with nothing standing between him and the thieves, he wasn't sure that he should have been so insistent.

  Get a grip... Jim's working his end... rallying the troops and alerting the museum staff... Quit thinking about your own fears and concentrate on the kids and Amanda... their safety's got to be your first concern...

  Eyes firmly fixed on his destination, Blair still shivered when he caught a glimpse of the four men loitering in the small display chamber. None of them reacted in any way to his presence, but he was sure that they had seen him -- or that at least Hennesey had. The armed man that Jim had identified as the leader of the group of thieves was casually leaning against the inside of the arched passageway between the inner and outer rooms, his intense, dark gaze taking in every detail of his surroundings. The anthropologist felt Hennesey's menacing stare boring into him and he gripped his cell phone tightly, holding it flat against his right leg in an effort to shield it from sight. He held his breath as he walked toward the classroom door, certain that at any second he was going to be stopped by a shout or a bullet.

  But surprisingly, he made it to the classroom without incident. His fingers trembled on the knob as he turned it and pushed inward. With a sigh of relief, he slipped inside the room, letting the door swing shut behind him.

  The cheerfully lit and decorated room was bustling with activity. Oblivious to the drama unfolding just a few feet away, Amanda and the children were busily shoving tables and chairs toward the walls in order to open up a clear space on the carpeted floor. At the front of the room was a raised platform where the speaker's podium stood, but Blair had never used it for his sessions. He preferred to sit on the step, with the kids seated or sprawled on the rug around him. His backpack, jacket and a large box sat on the table where he had left them earlier. For the moment, he ignored them. Catching his assistant's eye, he beckoned for her to join him.

  I was beginning to think you fell in, Amanda teased. Her grin faded a bit as she studied him closely. Hey... are you all right? You look kind of pale.

  Blair met her probing gaze with one of his own. At just five feet tall and a weighing a smidgen over 100 pounds, twenty-six year-old Amanda Richardson was barely distinguishable from the third graders that they were teaching. But what she lacked in stature, she made up for in grace, energy and determination. Short whitish-blond hair framed a heart-shaped face and green eyes that usually sparkled with laughter. She was one of the most intelligent people Blair had ever met, and also one of the most driven. A grad student in archeology, Amanda was as close to finishing her dissertation as Blair himself was, having gotten sidetracked fewer times than the anthropologist. They'd known each other for over six years, and they were good friends.

  God, what do I tell her? How do I tell her?

  Blair glanced over at the children, who were starting to get impatient with the delay. Yeah... look, I need you to do something for me while I get the kids started on today's session. Take this, he said softly, carefully handing her the cell phone, making sure that she saw that the line was still active. My partner's on the other end --

  Amanda blinked in surprise. Jim?

  Blair nodded and dropped his voice even lower, knowing that the Sentinel was listening and would fill in whatever loose ends he left hanging. We've got... a problem... The six guys that were hanging around the exhibit when you came in... well, Jim's been looking for them.

  Amanda's eyes widened in fear when she grasped the meaning behind what Blair saying.

  It's going to be okay, Blair assured her with a quick smile. Jim's on top of it, and you know I think he's the best the city's got. Once I get started, I want you to get on the phone and talk to him. Jim's going to explain what's going on and what you're going to need to do. I'll warn you, it's going to be scary, but I promise that everything's going to be fine. The important thing is that you and I keep our cool.

  His gaze flickered to the children and then back to meet hers. Amanda's eyes widened even further. She bit her bottom lip and nodded hesitantly.

  Blair patted her gently on the arm. I knew I could count on you. I'm not exactly sure how much time we've got to pull this off, but no matter what, don't shut off the phone. Just stay on the line. Jim's going to let you know when he's got things ready on his end. When that happens I want you to give me back the phone and follow my lead, okay?

  Okay, she whispered. I'll get them settled down while you get set up. Then I'll talk to Jim.

  Hearing Amanda's words, Jim let out the breath he'd been holding. The young woman was obviously scared to death -- the Sentinel could hear her pounding heartbeat easily -- but she, like Blair, seemed ready to do what needed to be done.

  Keeping the phone cradled to his ear, but covering the mouthpiece, Jim looked around the bullpen for his captain. Banks was in his office, standing behind his desk, also on the phone. From the stormy expression on Simon's face, the conversation wasn't going well.

  Jim, you still on with Hair Boy?

  Ellison glanced to his right to see Brown jogging into the squad room, with Rafe only a step behind.

  His assistant, Jim replied tersely. Another grad student that's been helping him out. Sandburg's trying to keep the kids occupied. Ellison handed Rafe the rough floorplan that he'd sketched from Blair's description. Can you make some copies of that? The detective took a quick look at what he held in his hands, nodded,
and spun away toward the copy machine.

  I don't give a DAMN about proper channels!

  Every head in the bullpen turned toward Simon's office at the captain's enraged shout. Brown shot Jim a worried look, which the Sentinel noted, but didn't return, his attention fixed on the one-sided conversation.

  You listen to me, Banks demanded. Sandburg says you've got armed men ready to rob that exhibit. He also tells me that besides your museum staff, there's a group of grade school children in that same wing. Now I don't think you want to be responsible for anything happening to them, do you?... I didn't think so...

  Simon glanced through his office window and glared at Jim. Ellison knew what that was about -- Banks had been less enthused with Blair's plan than he himself had been, but the Sentinel had managed to persuade him to give it a try. The man on the receiving end of Simon's tirade was the museum director, Robert Pike -- a stuffy bureaucrat that Jim had met just once and to whom he had taken an instant dislike. The feeling had been mutual, which is why it was Banks trying to persuade the man that he had a time-bomb ticking away inside his precious museum, instead of Ellison.

  Come on, Simon... sweet talk him into this or I'll use my own methods... we need to get them out of there...

  Although Blair's plan was risky, realistically, they had no other options. If his partner was right, and the six men were the ones that the department had been chasing for weeks in connection with a series of brutal armed robberies of the city's jewelry stores, then they couldn't risk going in with guns blazing away.

  The man Blair had recognized, Gavin Hennesey, wasn't going to give up without a fight. He'd already served time for two other armed robberies. If he was arrested and convicted of a third, he'd be in prison for life. And from the statements that witnesses had made at the other crime scenes, the rest of his men weren't likely to be any more amenable to surrender. They'd already demonstrated a tendency toward irrational violence -- in three of their heists, the thieves had taken a clerk hostage, and while they hadn't killed anyone yet, they'd severely beaten each of the abductees before discarding them. One of the clerks was still hospitalized, in critical condition.

  Hennesey's a clever bastard, choosing the day the kids are there to make his hit, Jim mused grimly. He knows that there's no way we'll do anything to risk the children's lives. We have to take him and his men down before he makes his move. If he gets his hands on Amanda and the kids... or on my partner... Simon's only slightly more patient sounding voice cut off that appalling line of thought. Yes, we have a plan for getting them out and for stopping the robbery... that's why I want the security system shut down as soon as possible... I understand it's not as simple as just flipping a switch... How long?... Thirty minutes?

  Jim met Banks' inquiring gaze with a shake of the head, mouthing, too long.

  Simon held up one hand as he listened intently to what the director was saying. Tight-lipped, he glanced at Jim and shook his head. All right, Mr. Pike. Do what you can. The SWAT team will be there shortly to contain the area. Do NOT let anyone else into that exhibit area, is that understood? And please, alert your people inside, but be discrete. I trust you understand what will happen if you start a panic on your end... Yes, I'll be arriving shortly myself... Detective Ellison? Yes, he'll be there too... What was that?... Yes, I'll be sure to tell him. I'll be back in touch with you in fifteen minutes.

  Simon hung up the phone and grabbed his coat as he exited his office. He stalked over to Jim's desk and took a copy of the floor plan sketch that Rafe offered. Mr. Pike wanted me to tell you that he hopes there aren't any hard feelings over the little misunderstanding the two of you had, he said dryly, meeting Jim's gaze. I gather you know what that's all about?

  I took exception to the way Pike treated Sandburg when he was selected to handle the project with the kids, Ellison answered, jaw clenching in irritation. We had... a few words.

  Simon snorted his disbelief at Jim's answer. It was an established fact around the precinct that no one messed with Blair Sandburg, unless they wanted a face-to-face with his partner. A conversation consisting of a 'few words' with an irritated Jim Ellison, especially if the cause of the ex-ranger's ire had been an affront to his partner, was something few walked away from unscathed -- assuming they walked away at all. It was no wonder Pike was quivering in his wing-tips. Banks shook his head at the image that thought evoked and let the subject drop, immediately becoming all business.

  Communications is routing that call to your cell phone now, Jim. He nodded at the handset tucked next to Ellison's ear and the detective's cell phone rang from within the pocket of Jim's jacket at the same time. Rafe snagged the coat from the rack where it was hanging and tossed it to Ellison. While the Sentinel pulled the phone free and activated it, checking the connection, Banks looked at Henri. Brown, did you --

  Yeah, I got them. Henri handed Jim a headset which the Sentinel accepted and slipped into place as he eagerly shifted to his feet. He took the Kevlar vest that the other detective offered as well, shrugging into the armor with practiced ease.

  You stay in touch, Banks ordered firmly. You're our only link to what's going on inside. I don't want you trying anything on your own.

  Simon --

  That's an order, Detective, Banks growled, his eyes flashed and then softened. We'll do our best to move up the timetable, Jim, but from what Pike explained, unless that system's shut down properly, we're going to have alarms going off all over the place. I just hope that thirty minute delay isn't cutting it too close, sir, Jim answered curtly. Once Hennesey realizes that no one's showing up for the 10:00 tour, he's going to act. If we don't have Sandburg and the others out by then -- The Sentinel broke off, unwilling to voice the rest of that thought. He laid his desk phone down gently, leaving the line open and clenched the cell tightly in his left hand. I need to go. Keep me apprised of your progress and I'll do the same.

  We'll be right behind you, Henri assured Jim.

  Jim barely nodded an acknowledgment as he ran toward the stairwell. Stiff- arming the door, he sailed through and began a breakneck trip down the steps.

  While Amanda urged the children to take a seat on the floor, Blair crossed the room to where he'd left his things and opened the box. Inside the cardboard carton were a small tape player and the hand-crafted rattles that his friend Emily, a grad student in the Fine Arts program, had helped him create. Each rattle represented a totem or power animal. Blair had intended to use them as visual aids during today's session and to send them home with the kids as mementos. He'd even had one made for Amanda. Now they would serve a slightly different purpose.

  And the story will have to change a bit as well. Good thing I'm relatively well versed on the subject...

  He pulled a cassette tape out of his jacket pocket, not bothering to see which one he'd grabbed -- whatever was being sacrificed was far less valuable than a human life. Blair carried the box over to the low platform in front of the speaker's podium, extracted the tape player and placed it on the floor next to the carton. Then he hurried over to the shelves that lined one side of the room and picked out a second player.

  Returning to the front of the room, he slipped the second tape into the additional recorder and set the machine down next to the first one. He took his customary spot on the step, sitting 'pretzel-leg' like the rest of his charges and forced his own fears to the back of his mind. In order to pull off his plan, he had to keep the kids calm, which meant that he had to at least appear calm himself. He glanced over at Amanda who was hovering by the door and nodded.

  As she turned her back on them and raised the phone to her ear, Blair shifted his attention to the children. Most of them were gazing at him expectantly. He did a quick mental attendance check, letting his eyes drift clockwise around the circle of young faces.

  To his left, sat tiny Marisa, smiling shyly at him as usual. He winked at her and was delighted to see one sky blue eye wink back before she hid behind the curtain of her long blonde hair.

  Next
was Claire, blessed with huge brown eyes that smiled warmly out of a face that was as dark as Marisa's was fair. Blair waggled an eyebrow at her, just to hear her musical laughter. He wasn't disappointed.

  Freddy, the oldest of the group, having just turned nine, sprawled on one elbow to Claire's left. The short, stringy-haired boy in patched blue jeans met Blair's gaze challengingly. Blair had learned in their first session that Freddy was a kid that cut straight to the chase. Street smarts, and what the grad student suspected was a surprisingly high IQ, combined to make him a tough sell -- no pulling the wool over this kid's eyes -- so Blair simply nodded and let his gaze drift onward.

  In contrast to Freddy's studied arrogance and ease, Talan's posture was defensive. Looking younger than any of the others, the boy sat tucked into a tight ball, his knees to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, his dark eyes flickering everywhere.

  Not surprising behavior for a child who spent his formative years in Bosnia amidst the daily horrors of war and death, Blair mused sadly.

  The twins, Jenny and Julia, nestled next to one another, knees and elbows touching. Identical down to the position of the freckles on their noses and the parts in their short red hair, Blair had learned to distinguish who was who by their body language. Jenny was perpetual motion; Julia was as still as a stone. A double giggle was their response to his quickly flashed grin.

  Dark-haired Kim sat with her hands folded loosely on her lap, and she met his searching gaze with a slight smile. She was an oriental puzzle that Blair was still trying to figure out. She seemed older than her 8 1/2 years, with dark eyes that took your measure easily. And there was sometimes an almost eerie stillness about her -- Kim could sit so quietly that it was easy to forget that she was in the room.

  With a sigh, Blair glanced at the last of his students. Seemingly oblivious to the rest of the world, Ryan was staring off into space, wire-rim glasses perched half-way down his nose, his forehead furrowed in concentration as he sorted out some inner puzzle. The grad student absently wondered what new invention the youngster was playing around with in his head.