by K Ryn
"He's coming here."
The half-whispered comment made Banks turn back to Jim. The Sentinel stood motionless, his gaze locked on the forest.
"Simon, Brown says Anders' men are falling back," Taggert reported, one hand held to the headset, his expansive brow furrowed in a frown. "Chances are they're headed this way."
"Jim, if Anders intended to meet them, you know where that puts Sandburg, don't you?"
"Right where he always is, Simon," the detective answered grimly. "In the middle of trouble."
A coal black shape suddenly materialized on the edge of the woods. The great cat turned its baleful yellow eyes on the Sentinel and then abruptly melted into the trees. Jim sprinted forward, leaving Simon and Joel gaping in surprise.
"Where the hell is he going?" Taggert gasped.
"To find Sandburg," Simon answered. To find the other half of his soul.
With a shake of his head, the captain called out for some of the men to join them and took off at a run himself, plunging into the forest in pursuit of his detective.
Blair tripped on a half-hidden branch and grabbed at the trunk of the nearest tree to keep from falling. Chest heaving, he struggled to push back the terror which had claimed him. He could still hear the sounds of the firefight behind him.
~Tread carefully, young one. The third path is before you.~
There was an uneasiness in the voice that Blair had never heard before. Closing his eyes, he made himself breathe deeply, searching for calm, letting the image of Incacha's face fill his inner vision.
"Why are you troubled?" he asked.
~You must walk this path alone.~
"Why?" Blair demanded desperately. "You claimed me and I accepted my fate. Why are you deserting me now? You promised to help me find justice for my Sentinel."
~It is as it must be. At the end, should all prove successful, I will leave you to your destiny and seek mine.~
Realizing a cusp had been reached, Blair trembled, then nodded. "May you reach the stars, Guardian," he murmured, voicing the ancient ritual words that came unbidden to his tongue. "The tribe will be guided... for as long as I live."
~Peace, young one. Seek your way with my blessings.~
Incacha's voice fell silent and Blair opened his eyes, scanning the thick foliage which surrounded him. Seeing a narrow opening in the trees, he started forward, moving as quietly as he could.
Within minutes, he came to a small clearing. He angled to the right, choosing to bypass the open space in favor of remaining protected by the denser shelter of the trees. His foot struck something in the thick grass. He reached down and extracted a handgun. Turning the weapon in his hands thoughtfully, he glanced up, caught sight of a flash of red and gingerly parted the bushes, drawing in a sharp breath when he saw the body hidden there.
One glimpse was all he need to realize that it was one of Anders' men. A knife protruded from the man's ribs and Blair knew that Jim had taken this man out -- possibly during the frantic attempt to buy his Guide the precious time to escape. The overpowering sensations the premonition had held threatened to swamp him again, but Blair shook them off angrily. That was the past and there was no changing it.
What honor required, belonged to the future.
Blair's head snapped up at the sound of approaching footsteps. He tightened his grip on the gun and scrambled for cover. A few seconds later, Anders emerged from the trees with two of his men just steps behind him. All thoughts but one were burned from Blair's mind when he recognized the mercenary. He charged forward, the gun raised threateningly.
"Don't move," he snarled, planting himself in front of Anders and taking aim at the man's chest.
The mercenary pulled to a halt, one eyebrow raising in surprise. The two men with him reached for their weapons, but Blair stayed focused on Anders.
"Tell them to put them down and move back, or you're dead," he demanded, his voice cold and seething with anger.
With a quick gesture, the older man signaled them to do as Blair had ordered. Two distinctive thuds announced the contact of the guns with the ground and the men backed off several paces, waiting.
"Now yours," Blair commanded. "And the headsets. Toss them out of reach."
The mercenary stared at him measuringly and Blair brought his other hand up to grip the gun, steadying it. Anders' eyes narrowed as he considered the threat. He remained motionless for a few more seconds before withdrawing his own weapon and slinging it off into the brush. The headset followed.
"You would appear to have the advantage, Mr. Sandburg..."
"Get rid of your assassins. Now!" Blair hissed through clenched teeth, jerking his head to indicate the two men. "They stay away from us, or you're dead."
Blair tightened his finger on the trigger as one of the men started to take a step forward in protest. Anders' reacted immediately, raising his hand in a warding off gesture.
"Go," he ordered tersely, his gaze never straying from Blair.
The two gunmen exchanged a quick look before disappearing into the forest.
"Still your play," Anders murmured.
"I should kill you right now," Blair whispered.
"But that won't get you what you want."
"Where is he? What did you do with him after...?" Blair choked on the words, unable to voice the rest of his demand.
"My camp is just over the last rise," Anders answered calmly.
Blair motioned with the gun. The mercenary turned and moved into the trees, walking at a steady pace, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. Keeping the weapon trained on Anders' back, Blair stayed close enough to guarantee that if he did have to shoot, he wouldn't miss his target.
They walked in silence. Oblivious to the rapidly brightening day, Blair's world had narrowed to the mercenary, the gun in his hand and the driving need to reach his partner. To at least recover his Sentinel's body, so that Anders couldn't hurt Jim any further.
"I have to compliment you on your survival skills," Anders said abruptly. "You've led us quite a chase."
"Just keep moving," Blair snapped.
"I'd be interested in knowing how you got through my men," Anders continued, glancing back over his shoulder as he walked. "We picked up the transmission you know. Not that your low power signal is going to carry far, but it was really a very inventive move. You surprised me by coming back though."
"Shut up and keep moving, I said!"
Blair took a quick step forward and shoved the gun into Anders' back. The older man stumbled forward and dropped to one knee.
"Get up or I'll shoot you right here!" Blair shouted, clenching the gun in his trembling hands.
"No, you won't," Anders said softly. Still crouched on the ground, the mercenary eyed the distraught Guide with contempt. "I know you. You don't have it in you to kill."
"Congratulate yourself, then. You've given me the incentive," Blair retorted angrily. "No one's ever killed my partner before."
Anders' eyes widened in surprise. "Ellison's not dead."
Blair's sharp intake of breath was all he could manage as he stared down into the mercenary's eyes. The hope which had awakened at Incacha's questions surged to the surface.
"Did you really think I'd go to all this trouble and let him get killed?" An infuriating smirk played at the corner of Anders' mouth.
Blair's anger flared again. "I heard the shots. I picked up the exchange over the com link. One of your men said he was 'down'."
"Not gunfire. Dart guns. Loaded with a simple, but quite effective tranquilizer."
Blair's heart thundered in his ears. "Tranquilizer? What kind? How much did you give him?"
"Enough to stop him in his tracks," Anders answered smugly.
"Damn you! I said how much? What dosage?" Filled with terrifying visions of what that kind of drug could do to his partner, Blair took a step forward without thinking, the gun dropping slightly.
Without warning, Anders moved. Blair tried to retreat and raise the weapon, but the older man was quicke
r. He struck out, swinging a broken length of branch not at the gun, but at Blair's left knee. The younger man screamed as pain erupted from the blow and lurched sideways, legs buckling under him.
The ground reached up to meet him, driving the air from aching lungs and making his next scream a choked gasp. His vision filled with black spots which danced chaotically in time to his pounding pulse. Blair fought off the dizziness, craning his neck to search for the gun that had fallen from his grasp. He reached out for it, but Anders was suddenly at his side, trapping his right wrist with a booted foot and pinning it painfully to the ground.
Desperately, Blair struck out at the man's ankle with his free hand. Anders caught the awkwardly thrown blow easily, pushing the younger man's wrist down against his chest. Blair tried to squirm away, but the mercenary just laughed and with his other hand leaned his weight on the injured knee.
A white-hot stab of pain spiraled from the point of contact, straight up Blair's spine, exploding into bursts of fire in his head, tearing another scream from his throat.
A half mile away, Ellison stopped abruptly, his head whipping around to catch a fading trace of sound.
"What is it?" Simon asked urgently, skidding to a stop at the detective's side.
"Blair. That way," the Sentinel answered, his face reflecting the anguish he'd heard in his Guide's cry.
Without a backward glance at the others, Jim started to run.
Taking advantage of his captive's distress, Anders quickly snapped handcuffs around Blair's wrists and pressed them back against his chest once more, using the weight of his body to hold the younger man in place. The mercenary took a deep breath and gave an odd, piercing whistle which was answered in seconds by another, not too far off.
Anders stared down at Blair, grinning into the dazed, pain-filled eyes. When the younger man tried to move again, the mercenary pushed down on the injured knee and agonizing pain shot through Blair once more, stilling his struggles.
"That's going cure your running away, my young friend," Anders whispered menacingly.
Shuddering, Blair watched in horror as Anders' men suddenly appeared.
"We've got trouble, Colonel," one of them reported. "The retrieval teams on the mountain ran into FBI and what appear to be Special Forces Rangers."
"What about the camp?" Anders demanded.
"Can't raise them."
The news was music to Blair's ears. He managed a lopsided grin. "Guess the game's really over now, 'Colonel'."
Anders rewarded his sarcasm by giving his knee another painful squeeze. As the pain arced through him, Blair clenched his teeth, determined not to cry out.
"It's not over until I say it is," Anders hissed, his eyes glittering with rage. Sadistically, he pressed down on the knee again until Blair writhed and moaned helplessly.
With a satisfied sneer, Anders released his hold and stood up, turning his attention to his men and holstering the gun he'd retrieved from the ground.
"It's time to scram this mission. If they've taken the camp, Ellison's free. He'll be hunting for his partner. We can use that. Contact air support and have them meet us at the delta rendezvous point. That's only a few minutes away."
"You wanted to see your Sentinel again?" Anders asked mockingly as he shifted his gaze back to Blair. "Well, now you will. Bring him," the mercenary ordered his men.
Dragged to his feet, a despairing groan escaped Blair's lips. Help had arrived, Jim was not only alive, but free, and yet what he'd most feared was about to come to pass.
"NO!" he whispered, defiantly as they dragged him away. No matter what it took, he was not going to let Anders get his hands on the Sentinel again.
Hearing extended to its limits, the Sentinel targeted on the faint vibration of his Guide's heartbeat and raced through the forest. He flinched at every skip of that familiar rhythm -- staggered at every gasp of pain which carried across the distance that still separated them.
He felt another vibration intruding on his concentration and lengthened his stride, leaving Simon and the others to follow as quickly as they could. Splitting his concentration between the tenuous contact he had with Blair and the sound of the incoming chopper, he altered his course slightly, headed toward where the helicopter was likely to touch down.
His own exhausted muscles screamed at him, begging for relief, but he ignored them, focused solely on the need to reach his Guide and free him before it was too late.
Anders led them to the edge of a deep ravine and followed it almost to the top of the next hill. With a glance toward the still obscured crest, he stopped and waved the men dragging Blair between them, forward.
"Leave him with me. Go and meet the chopper," Anders ordered. Grabbing at the links between the handcuffs, he pulled the younger man to him. Blair took a staggering step and felt his knee give out. He collapsed on the ground at the mercenary's feet, shaking with pain and fatigue.
Anders' cruel laugh reverberated in his head and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain silent. He nearly lost his control when the mercenary grabbed a handful of hair and pulled his head backward. He shuddered at the mad gleam in the man's eyes as Anders loomed over him.
"Call him," Anders demanded.
"No..."
The older man shifted his stance and kicked out, connecting with Blair's knee. A strangled moan broke from the younger man.
"Call him!" the mercenary hissed, wrenching Blair's head and kicking the injured joint savagely.
The choked cry was louder, but it still didn't satisfy Anders. He jerked the younger man closer and stepped down with his full weight, pinning Blair's leg to the rocky ground.
This time there was no stopping the scream which erupted from the tortured Guide.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!"
Dully, Blair managed to turn his head just enough to find the source of the outraged shout. His vision blurred with pain and tears, the young Guide's eyes found his Sentinel's.
"Jim." Trust, horror, joy and rage burned through the air between them.
With a rough jerk, Anders pulled Blair to his feet, wrapping an arm around his chest to hold him upright. Anguished blue eyes sought the Sentinel's gaze again as the cold muzzle of a gun stabbed against the soft skin of his neck, just under his right ear.
"I have what you want, Ellison."
Blair winced at the words and at Anders' breath that brushed hot and revolting against his bruised cheek.
"Let him go, Anders," Jim growled as he moved closer, his gun raised, ready to fire at the first opportunity he saw .
"Drop the gun or I'll kill him," the mercenary threatened.
"You won't kill him. You need him for your little tests, remember?" Jim drew another step closer.
"Maybe it's time to change the direction of the experiment," the older man said softly. "It might be interesting to see how a Sentinel survives the death of his control. Or to see how long it takes you to bond with a new focus. I'm confident we could reconstruct whatever it is that Mr. Sandburg here does for you, from his notes. He's been a very thorough observer. I'm sure there's a great deal of material to work from."
The Sentinel hesitated. Up to now, he'd been convinced Anders wouldn't kill Blair, but the conviction in the man's words terrified him. Looking into those cold eyes, Jim realized the mercenary was capable of carrying out his threat. The gun in the detective's hand dropped a few inches.
"Jim, don't!" Blair had seen the flicker of fear in his partner's eyes. He knew what was coming.
"Put the gun down, now," Anders commanded, tightening his hold on his prisoner and cocking his own weapon.
Slowly, Jim lowered his gun to the ground, his gaze locked on his young partner.
"No, man. Don't do this!" Blair shook his head emphatically, panic filling the wide blue eyes.
Anders answered Blair's desperate plea with a triumphant, barking laugh. "He doesn't have any choice." The air around them shuddered with the sound of the incoming helicopter, and the mercenary's smile grew. "It appears that
our transportation has arrived. Time to take this game to the next level."
The older man pulled the gun away from Blair's neck and gestured with it, indicating that Jim should precede them. The second the weapon shifted, Blair breathed a whispered warning --"Watch your back, Jim" -- and let his knees buckle. The sudden shift in weight pulled Anders off balance for a fraction of a second. The moment his knees hit the ground, the younger man pushed backward with all of his remaining strength.
The violent movement carried them both to the edge of the crevice. Jim was rolling to his knees, the gun he'd retrieved in a frantic dive already rising, Sentinel sight seeking a target. As he scrabbled for a foothold on the crumbling rocks, Anders' startled expression changed to blind fury. Blair's unexpected lunge had dislodged his hold on the younger man, but his grasping fingers locked in the anthropologist's hair.
Still too far away to reach them in time, the Sentinel watched as Anders and his Guide teetered in a swaying bid for balance at the edge. His horror grew when he realized that Blair was trying to shift them backward, willing to end his own life in an attempt to take the other man out. The roar of denial which ripped from his soul merged with another, much more primal scream of rage. A black wind streaked across the Sentinel's vision, morphing into the sinuous, deadly shape of the panther. The Spirit Guide shrieked its own battle cry, thrusting itself between Anders and his Guide, knocking the younger man forward.
The air exploded in sound as three weapons discharged their deadly missiles. Anders' body jerked with the impact of each bullet and seemed to hang for a split second, suspended in thin air. The panther leaped toward the enemy and the mercenary plummeted into the ravine.
Barely conscious of Simon and Joel running toward them, Jim stumbled to Blair's side. Dropping to his knees he pulled the shuddering body of his Guide into a fierce embrace. The Sentinel stayed in that position, sheltering the younger man from the chaos which followed as Simon directed the pursuit of the men still with the helicopter. Jim whispered soft words of encouragement each time Blair flinched in response to the sharp retort of discharging weapons from the top of the hill.