by Carol Roi
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Jim Ellison looked up from his computer screen as two men entered Major Crimes through the door closest to his desk. One was a tall, dark-haired man with his right arm in a sling, the other a stocky blond with two black eyes and a well-bandaged nose. Though dressed in jeans and the standard wear of the Pacific Northwest, flannel shirts over tees, their bearing and the imperious glances they were shooting around the bullpen immediately caused Jim to label them as Feds. He tried to make himself inconspicuous, and failed.
One Arm moved to stand in front him. "Where's Blair Sandburg?" It wasn't a request.
Jim rose smoothly to his feet, folding his arms over his chest in a show of territoriality. "Who's asking?"
Broken Nose flipped open a badge. "I'm Agent Collier, and this is my partner, Agent Manning. We're with the DEA."
"No! I thought you were with the World Wrestling Federation," Jim deadpanned.
Manning slammed his good hand down on the desk. "We demand to see Blair Sandburg!"
Jim shot a glance toward Captain Banks' office, seeing the man beginning to rise from his desk at the noise. He decided it was time to be civil. "I'm Detective Ellison, Sandburg's partner. Perhaps I can be of some assistance?"
"You can tell us where the son of a bitch is and then get out of my way 'cause I'm going to kick his ass from here to the Pacific Ocean!"
Simon's foghorn voice cut through the room. "Gentlemen, gentlemen! Can't we discuss this rationally?"
Collier turned what should have been a piercing glare on the tall black man, but his swollen eyes and taped nose only made him look pitiful. "Who are you?"
"Captain Banks. Sandburg is one of my men." Simon scowled back at the agent.
Manning shook his head, his good hand clenching and unclenching. "Don't you locals know how to handle a drug deal going down? You don't fucking interfere! Because it just might be part of a sting operation!"
Jim was trying very hard to keep up. "Sandburg interfered with a drug deal? Then where in the hell is he?"
"How the fuck should I know? He beats the crap out of us, then jumps in the car with the mark and takes off!"
Simon made a small choking noise, and Jim realized he was trying to hold back his laughter. The idea of Sandburg beating up on the two muscular DEA agents was pretty funny. He looked away to hide his own expression of mirth. As he did, he caught sight of the clock on the wall. His partner should have been back two hours ago. Picking up the phone, he punched in the number for Blair's cell. A few seconds later, his desk began to trill. "Damn it, sir," he said, catching Simon's eye, "he left his cell phone here."
Removing his glasses, Banks wiped his eyes, then replaced the spectacles. "Are you sure it was Sandburg? What you're describing sounds very much out of character for him."
Collier threw a laminated tag on the desk. Blair's observer ID stared up at them. "Oh, we're sure. He dropped this."
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"Thanks for the lift, Cyndi," Blair said as he got out of her Rabbit. Closing the door, he leaned back through the window. "You'll call me and let me know where and when tomorrow, right? You have my cell number."
Cyndi nodded, her beads swaying. "I got your number. It won't be too early, and I'll pick you up since you don't have a car." She grinned at him. "We are gonna have so much fun, Blair!" Letting up on the clutch, she drove off.
Blair stood on the corner watching until she was out of sight. "Yeah, fun," he muttered under his breath, then turned to jog the four blocks to the PD, wondering what in the hell he was going to tell Jim and Simon.
Exiting the elevator at the sixth floor, he walked into chaos. Everyone in Major Crimes was standing in a circle around Simon and Jim, who were facing off with two men Blair didn't recognize, and all of them were yelling at once.
"Sandburg is not capable of& "
"Broke up our bust& "
"Broke my freaking nose& "
"Probably made us to the girl& "
"This is all very amusing, gentlemen, but& "
"Hey, Hairboy!"
As one, all the occupants of the bullpen turned toward the door, suddenly silent. Blair's attention fastened on the two strangers. Underneath the bandage and the black eyes, the blond one looked familiar, like the& the guy from the alley! His eyes widened as a sudden wave of terror swept over him. The flight response came a little too late. Broken Nose rushed him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the glass next to the door hard enough that Blair heard it crack.
"You fucking son of a bitch! Do you know how much you cost us? You blew our whole setup, you worthless druggie piece of shit!" The man was so close Blair could feel his spit hitting him in the face as he ranted. Then Jim and Simon were on either side of the nutcase, pulling on his arms, trying to make him release his hold, as Blair clawed at the hands twisting his collar, cutting off his air.
"Let him go!" Jim roared. "Can't you see he's choking?"
The pressure suddenly vanished, and Blair lost his balance, staggering forward, feeling something drop from his coat pocket. Catching himself on the corner of a desk before he went all the way to the floor, he looked up to see stunned faces staring back at him. The room was dead silent. "What? What is it, guys?" He straightened, then looked down.
A plain white envelope lay on the floor, hundred dollar bills strewn around it in a fan.
"Uh, would you believe I just won the lottery?"
Part Two
Blair found himself being grabbed firmly by the arm and dragged into Simon's office, the door slamming shut behind him. The grip on his arm tightened and he was whirled around to face a very pissed off Sentinel. Both of them spoke at once.
"Where in the hell have you been?"
"Who in the hell are those two guys?"
Jim's fingers squeezed Blair's arm even harder as his jaw worked overtime. "Hey, man, come on. Lay off the guide abuse!" The detective released his hold, and Blair's hand automatically went to the limb, massaging the injured area. "What is it with everyone today? Is there a big sign on my back that says 'Open Season on Sandburg'?"
Taking a deep breath, Jim exhaled noisily, and Blair could see him mentally counting to ten. "Those 'two guys' happen to be DEA agents, who are not too happy about having their sting operation broken up by you."
Taking a step back, Blair blinked up at the taller man. "DEA?"
"Yes, DEA. What were you thinking, and why didn't you identify yourself as with the PD?"
"I just reacted to the situation, Jim. I saw two guys beating up on a woman in an alley, and I just jumped to the rescue. She got away, and then the dark-haired guy looked like he was reaching for a weapon just as Cyndi pulled up in her car and I hopped in and we took off." He paused to take a breath.
"Who's Cyndi?" Jim managed to get in before Sandburg started up again.
"Cyndi was the woman I rescued. She used to be a grad student at Rainier and we were good friends but she got kicked out for& " He noticed the other man's eyes beginning to glaze over and skipped ahead to the important part. "Anyway she had this bag of money and that's how I found out she was dealing drugs. She drove me to this warehouse and took me inside to meet her boss, which didn't go so well, and I was trying to talk my way out of there when the big boss, Cristo, showed up in this limo, and he thought Cyndi had a good idea, only I had to pass a test first, so I had to fight this really big guy." He rushed the end of the story before Jim could interrupt. "I won, and apparently that and Cyndi's word was all there was to the test, because I now work for Cristo. Cyndi's supposed to call me with more details tomorrow." Blair leaned back against the conference table and folded his arms across his chest. "And that was my day, how was yours?"
The guide's tentative grin was infectious, and Jim found himself smiling back at him. "Well, Chief, my day was pretty crappy actually. My partner went to the garage and disappeared for two hours,
then turned up with a couple thousand in laundered money on him, with some ridiculous story about being hired on the spur of the moment by the biggest drug dealer in Cascade. Unfortunately, since it's you we're talking about here, the story is probably true." He turned toward the door just as Simon entered with the DEA agents on his heels.
"Take a seat, gentlemen," Captain Banks said, his expression grim. The two Feds and the two detectives sat down at the table while Simon leaned against the front of his desk. Introductions were brief. "Ellison, Sandburg, Cascade PD. Manning, Collier, DEA. Let's hear it, Sandburg."
Once again Blair repeated his story, punctuated by outbursts from the two agents. He had just gotten to the part about knowing Cyndi from Rainier when he was interrupted again.
"I want Sandburg under federal arrest," Manning snapped.
"What!" Blair was halfway out of his seat at the agent's words. "I haven't done a damn thing but protect someone you were attacking!" Jim laid a restraining hand on his arm.
"You're a danger to our operation. If we let you walk out of here, who knows what you'll do," Manning growled. "Run straight to your little dealer friend and let her know the DEA is after her. We can't let you jeopardize a sting we've worked so hard to set up."
There was no mistaking the menace in Collier's next words. "Assault on federal agents is a pretty serious crime, as is aiding and abetting a known criminal."
Blair dropped back into his chair with a thump. He was so pissed he couldn't see straight. Who in the hell did these morons think they were? Beating up a contact sure in the hell wasn't going to get them anywhere, and if they thought they could scare Cyndi into coughing up some info for them, they were definitely barking up the wrong tree.
A knock on Banks' door disrupted Collier's tirade. "Come," Simon snapped.
Megan Connor stuck her head in the door. "Here's that report from forensics on the envelope Sandy dropped. They found a couple of good prints." She handed a file folder to her superior then beat a hasty retreat.
Opening the folder, Simon read the paper within thoroughly, then raised his eyes to Blair's uncertain blue ones. "It seems there were a couple prints on the paper besides Sandburg's. They happen to belong to Frederico Juarez, an Ecuadorian national, convicted drug trafficker, and Cristo's right hand man. Care to explain how his fingerprints got on an envelope in your possession?"
The urge to shove his chair back and run was almost overwhelming. Despite the years he'd worked with the PD, Blair was acutely aware he wasn't one of them; he was still an outsider. Then the light pressure of Jim's hand on his shoulder broke through his paralyzing fear, reminded him that this was where he belonged, at his partner's--his Sentinel's--side. He relaxed slightly, and Jim gently prodded him. "Just tell them what you told me."
Licking his dry lips, Blair explained once again about Cyndi taking him to the warehouse. He'd just gotten to the part about the limo pulling up when Manning interrupted him. "I think we've heard enough. We're placing you under arrest."
Blair couldn't breath. His panicked gaze traveled from Jim to Simon and back again. "Jim, you're not gonna let them do this; you can't let them do this! Captain!" He was on his feet, feeling like he was going to be sick.
"Don't you think arresting Blair is a little bit premature? You haven't heard the rest of the story!" Jim jumped to his defense.
Collier shook his head. "I think we've heard enough to know he's not telling the truth. I've heard druggies tell some whoppers, but waltzing into the lion's den without being challenged by one of Cristo's men is really stretching my imagination."
Blair slammed the flat of his hand down on the tabletop. "You haven't listened to a goddamned word I've said! Cyndi knows me, she trusts me! She thinks I'm another victim of the system, that we're kindred spirits--"
"I think you're full of it, Sandburg. The way I see it, you were there to help out your friend, and now your dark little secret is out in the open. We're going to take you over to the federal building and get the real story out of you." Collier produced a pair of handcuffs.
Blair's mind was whirling, trying to figure a way out of this as both Jim and Simon argued with the Feds. The solution to his problem was staring him in the face. It scared the hell out of him, but if it would keep him out of jail, he would do it. "Hey." No one paid him a bit of attention. "Listen to me." Even Jim and Simon weren't listening. "Would you just SHUT UP!" Blessed silence returned. "How long have you been working on this operation?" He directed his question to Manning.
"Six months."
"And how far have you gotten?"
"Our first agent was killed. Since we were brought in, we've managed to set ourselves up as dealers buying from Cristo."
"That's it?"
"What do you mean that's it? It takes time to infiltrate this kind of operation. They have to get to know you, trust you, feel you out, test you." Collier was glaring at him.
Blair rested his palms on the table leaning his weight on his hands. "I am so far ahead of you guys, it's pathetic. I'm already in. I've been inside Cristo's headquarters; I've met his people; I've passed his test; I am in his employ. That money was payment for pummeling your sorry asses." Collier lunged across the table at him, but he danced out of range. "You throw me in jail and you lose your chance to wrap this up quickly. You want information? I can get it for you, but I have to be free to do it."
"You little snot-nosed punk--" Manning snarled.
"That's enough, all of you!" Simon bellowed. "Regardless of whether you believe him or not, Sandburg says he can get you what you need. Give him the opportunity to prove himself, to prove his innocence. This can only benefit you, while throwing him in jail benefits no one."
Manning glanced at his partner. "Let me call our superior. In private." Simon pointed at the phone, then followed Sandburg and Ellison into the nearly deserted bullpen.
"Next time, Sandburg, it would be nice to have some advance warning before you volunteer your services to the Feds, let alone decide all on your lonesome you're going to go undercover," Simon chastised him.
Feeling suddenly drained, Blair leaned against a desk. "It's not like I had much of a choice, sir, either earlier today or now." He looked up at Jim. "Aren't you going to say something, man?"
Jim's jaw muscles worked for a moment, then he said, "You'll hear from me, but later--much later."
The guide suppressed a shudder. That was gonna be worse than any grilling the Feds could put him through.
The trio's attention turned to Simon's office as the door opened and the DEA agents came out. "You're in. But if you so much as think of ratting this operation out to Cristo, your ass is going to prison."
Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Blair said, "Gotcha."
Collier looked at his watch. "It's late, and we have plans to make. We'll meet back here in the morning to discuss how this is going to work. 8 am."
"They'll be here," Simon promised.
The agents left, both of them giving Blair a dirty look as they passed him on their way out.
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Blair sat at the kitchen table, a peanut butter and alfalfa sprout sandwich forgotten in his left hand as he pored over the Cascade PD's files on Cristo. Even though the drug dealer was relatively new on the scene, having arrived in the city a little over 18 months ago, he had quickly made a name for himself. Able to supply large quantities of cocaine and heroin due to his family's South American drug cartel, he quickly undercut Cascade's other dealers and forced them out of business. Those who refused to accept the inevitable he simply wiped out, leaving a cross carved into the chest of each of his victims as a warning to those who dared challenge him. So far the body count totaled about 30, from penny ante dealers to major players, including two CPD narcotics officers and one DEA agent.
Closing the file he'd been skimming, Blair set it in the "read" pile and took a bite of his sandwich before pulling a folder from the unread stack. He heard J
im come down the stairs and cross the loft to the kitchen, but he didn't look up until his partner pulled out a chair at the end of the table and sat down. He was trying to hide it, but Blair could see his Sentinel's concern.
"Are you sure about this, Chief? I know you've gone undercover before, but never like this. It could take weeks or months before you get enough information to convict him of anything. And you won't have me there to back you up; you'll be on your own." Jim leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "I don't like it, Blair. Cristo won't hesitate to kill you if he suspects you're a cop."
Pulling off his glasses, Blair rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I know, Jim, but I have to do this. He has to be stopped. Too many people have died already; too many lives have been destroyed. " He flipped through the pages in front of him, then turned his attention back to his partner. "How come this guy never came across Major Crimes desk before this?"
