Sentinel - Progression Series 10 Pilgrimage Part 1

by Beth Manz

  “Do you see the men who attacked you?” Jim asked from beside him.

  Blair dragged his gaze away from the images of himself and the three students and concentrated on the faces of the people around them. “It was so busy,” he muttered, leaning forward slightly, squinting at the grainy picture. “We were just trying to get in and get out. I didn’t-“ Suddenly, his heart lurched in his chest.

  Without hesitation, Jim’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Blair? Do you see something?”

  He nodded, unable to draw enough air into his lungs to speak. Because there, on the small screen before him, was the face of the man who had grinned with pleasure as he pressed duct tape over Blair’s mouth.

  “Close your eyes, Professor.”

  Hands shaking, Blair fumbled with the remote as the face blended once again into the crowd around them and became part of the background.

  "I saw one of the men,” he choked out, finally managing to hit the correct button and reverse the tape. “There.” He hit the pause button as the man’s face became clearly visible in the frame. “That’s the one who put the tape on us.”

  “Good job, Blair,” Simon said from beside him as he jotted down the reference numbers from the corner of the tape. “I’ll have the lab lift that image from the tape and we’ll run it through our computers.”

  “So now we know for sure that the truck stop is where these guys targeted you.”

  Blair nodded, his gaze locked on that face. The man stood just inside the door, and as Blair hit the play button again he saw him turn and gesture to someone outside.

  “He’s pointing you guys out,” Jim said from beside him. “Signaling to his buddies so they can follow you when you leave.”

  “Yeah,” Blair breathed, a chill passing over him. His gaze shifted back to himself and the three students. They were just receiving their order, talking among themselves, laughing--totally unaware that they had just been marked for death.

  There was nothing more on that tape. Just the image of the four of them leaving the diner. But the second tape, the one showing the parking lot was a different story. Blair quickly and easily picked out the Ford that had followed them from the truck stop. And after much rewinding and replaying, looking for just the right angle, Jim was finally able to zero in on the license plate number.

  “We got 'em, Chief,” Jim said proudly as the tape rewound in the VCR. “All we have to do is put a name to that plate and we can pick them up.” He smiled widely at Blair, clearly pleased by the results of the afternoon.

  Blair managed a tiny smile for his friend. “That’s great.” But the empty feeling that had been with him since he first woke up in the hospital, the feeling he was sure would leave him as soon as they found the men responsible for this, did not go away.

  It will, he told himself. Once they’re actually in custody, it will.

  But as he followed Jim out of Simon’s office, he was no longer sure.

  /

  Jim opened the door to the loft and guided Blair inside, his hand at the small of his partner’s back. “You hungry?” he asked as he closed and locked the door. “I could make us some dinner.”

  During the ride home, the two men hadn't talked much. Jim had known Blair was still processing all that had happened today at the station, reliving those moments at the truck stop that they’d all seen play out on the tapes, wishing things had gone differently. But deep down, Jim couldn’t help but hope this would finally make the difference for his partner. Finally help him move beyond the feelings of helplessness that had been consuming him since waking in that hospital.

  “I’m too tired to eat,” Blair answered Jim's question as he shrugged out of his coat. “I just want to go to bed.” Crossing to the answering machine and its blinking light, he hit the button. An instant later, Eli Stoddard’s voice filled the room.

  “Hello. I thought I’d try and catch Blair in. I just wanted to see how he was doing.”

  Jim could hear the discomfort in the man’s voice. He glanced at Blair. His partner stood beside the counter, his back stiff, his gaze locked on the machine.

  “I’ll be home all evening,” Eli continued. “Maybe, Blair, you could just call me…just briefly...to let me know how you are.”

  Blair let out a long breath, his hand tapping nervously against the side of his leg.

  “Oh and Jim, I haven’t had a chance to look up any information on animal spirit guides yet. But as soon as I do, I’ll call you.”

  The machine clicked off, automatically rewinding the tape.

  Slowly, Blair turned toward Jim, his eyes wide, unbelieving. “You talked to Dr. Stoddard about animal spirit guides?”

  Jim tossed his keys in the basket beside the door and moved further into the loft, past Blair. “I didn’t say anything specific about us. I just asked him in general to look into the subject.”

  “Why did you do that?” Blair asked, following close behind him.

  Jim turned to face him. “Because what happened to you on that mountain can’t just be shrugged away as luck.”

  “Why not? Because you say so?” Blair stared up at him, his gaze challenging. “Jim, that wolf was just a wolf. You think making it something special is going to make me feel better? That’s it’s going to make Dr. Stoddard feel better? That he’s not going to blame--” Blair’s words cut off and his gaze shifted away from Jim.

  “What, Blair? Blame you? Is that what you were going to say?”

  Blair stared at the floor, saying nothing.

  “We already talked about this. No one blames you for what happened. Those men--”

  “I know,” Blair snapped, looking up at Jim again. “Those men did this. Those men are responsible. They’re to blame. You’re right about that and in time, I’m sure I’ll get that. But right now.…” He bit at his trembling lower lip, shaking his head. “Dr. Stoddard put me in charge of those students,” he choked out. “He trusted me with their safety. And I let him down. How can he ever trust me again? How can I ever look him in the eyes again?”

  Jim moved to Blair and dropped his hands on his shoulders, holding tightly. “Blair, do you know what Eli told me in the hospital? He said that he always regretted not having children until you came to Rainier. He thinks of you as his son.” He emphasized the last word, hoping to get through to his partner, make him finally understand just how deeply Eli cared for him. “You think that man feels anything but grateful that you’re still alive?”

  Blair stared up at Jim, his eyes wide, unblinking, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.

  “And I asked him about the animal spirit guides,” Jim continued softly, “because I do think there's something to it.”

  Blair shook his head stubbornly. “Jim--”

  “Just hear me out,” Jim said, cutting him off before he could protest further. “Stanley Gillman died of exposure. That boy tried to keep himself warm and he couldn’t. Yet you lived. How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Jim,” Blair said, his voice so low the sentinel had to strain to hear him. “But what happened on that mountain...it wasn’t some miracle or some spiritual experience. It was pure hell and I just want to forget it ever happened.”

  /

  Cold, relentless rain pounded down, soaking him where he lay. The wind joined the rain, sweeping over him, tugging at his open coat, raising the flesh of his bare skin. He tried to move, to call out for help. But he could no longer feel his arms or legs. In fact, it seemed most of his body was numb.

  He shuddered, numbness replaced momentarily by pain brought about by the sudden movement. An indistinguishable sound escaped past the tape on his mouth. He swung his head from side to side in an attempt to dislodge the sticky substance from his face. Pushing with his feet, he searched for traction, wanting desperately to sit up. But the slight movement only caused him to slide further down the side of the mountain.

  Another cry escaped him, a muffled, panicked sound as more and more of
the ground slipped away beneath him. His trapped wrists fought against their bindings while his numb feet sought for some kind of hold. He found none. And as he continued his downward plunge, he was sure at any moment that he would plummet over the side of the mountain and freefall to his death.

  He cried out again, twisting and struggling to slow himself down. Seconds later, he came to a sudden, bone-jarring stop.

  Don’t move!

  He lay on his back, panting, his still-bound feet braced against something large and solid. A rock, a tree trunk, he had no way of knowing. But it didn’t really matter. He had stopped his downward descent and that was most important.

  But even as the feeling of relief spread through him, he felt the ever-threatening pull of unconsciousness. He fought against the encroaching darkness, knowing each time he passed out that he might not wake again. But the darkness would not be denied…

  Just as he was drifting away, he felt something soft and warm nuzzle his cheek. Seconds later, a low whine sounded near his ear. He tensed, jerking hard against his wrists, a muffled sound coming from deep within his throat.

  No more! Please, no more!

  He continued to struggle as something large pressed down on him. The heavy weight stilled his frantic movements and the warmth that had touched his face spread across his body. He felt the weight settle fully against him, and for the first time in what seemed an eternity, he was sheltered from the wind and rain.

  Beyond caring who or what was offering the blessed warmth, he curled in toward the source of comfort, taking solace in it. He allowed himself to drift away into the waiting darkness, and just as he passed from awareness into sleep, the sound of a low, mournful howl cut through the silence.

  Blair sat upright in bed, his breath coming in harsh gasps, the sound of the howl from his dream seeming to follow him up from sleep, echoing in the room around him.

  “Chief?”

  Blair jerked toward the sound. Jim stood silhouetted in the doorway of his bedroom, the moonlight playing across the sentinel's worried features.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah," Blair answered, embarrassed. "I’m...I’m fine.” He pushed sweat-dampened hair back from his face. “Just a nightmare.”

  Jim took a tentative step into the room. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Blair shivered, the sound of the wolf’s howl once again playing through his mind. In that moment, he could feel the warmth of its body where it covered him, could smell the musk of its wet fur as it moved over his face. It suddenly seemed like more than a dream…it suddenly seemed so real….

  “Blair?” Jim took another step toward him.

  Jim's voice jarred him from his thoughts and he looked up at the sentinel. He held up a hand, dismissing Jim's concerns. “I’m tired,” he whispered. "I'm going back to sleep."

  “Okay,” Jim agreed softly, but Blair didn't miss the disappointment in his voice, the minute slump of his shoulders. “You rest then, buddy.” Ellison turned and started toward the French doors again.

  Guilt washed over Blair. Jim was concerned for him, was only trying to help. “Jim?” he called just as his partner was stepping out of his room. He waited until Jim turned back to look in his direction. "I’m glad you’re here, man," he offered quietly.

  Jim nodded. “I’m always here for you, Blair. I hope you know that.”

  “I know.” Blair smiled, knowing the sentinel could see the expression in spite of the darkness.

  Part Seven

  Jim leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest, his focus on the activity in the room behind him. The room where his partner was now getting ready to identify the men who had attacked him just over a week ago.

  They’d gotten the call early this morning, the ringing phone waking them both. “We got ‘em, Jim.” It was all Simon had said, all he had needed to say. The rest of the details had been relayed to them once they'd reached the station--all three men had been picked up late last night, Rafe and Brown easily finding them using the information obtained from the video tape. All they needed now was a positive ID from Blair.

  Jim shifted where he stood, cocking his head slightly, trying to hear the conversation going on behind the closed door that now separated him from his guide. He’d wanted to be with Blair as he tried to pick out each man from his respective lineup. But one of the court appointed public defenders had made a stink about having a cop who was not assigned to the case in the room, then the other two joined in, and before he knew what was happening, Jim had been kicked out and told to stay out.

  “Take your time, Dr. Sandburg.”

  Jim straightened as the DA’s voice filtered out to him, as the implication behind the words sank in--they’d brought in the first group of men.

  He heard Blair's heart rate rise, and each beat reverberated in Jim’s ears, making his own heart pound faster. It took all his willpower to remain outside that room. But he couldn’t take the chance that his presence would somehow damage the case against these men. More than anything, he wanted them to pay. So he remained where he was--away from his partner’s side.

  “Number four,” Blair said, his voice strained but confident.

  “You want number four to step forward?” the DA asked.

  “No. I don’t need a better look. It’s him.” There was no doubt in Blair’s voice, no hesitancy at all.

  The second and third lineups proceeded in exactly the same manner. Blair picked out his attackers without hesitation. He would make a strong witness and it was clear to Jim that all three of the defense lawyers knew it. He could already hear them asking about possible deals that might be offered to their clients.

  Jim pushed away from the wall as the door behind him opened. The DA came out, the three defense attorneys right on her heels. She glanced at Jim, nodding briefly, and in that moment Jim knew they had these guys dead to rights. No matter what deal was struck, they wouldn't be getting out of prison any time soon.

  The detective watched as Brown and Rafe, the two officers who had been given the case, exited the room next. He expected Blair to be right behind them, but his partner did not come out. Slipping inside, Jim found him still standing before the one-way glass, his gaze locked on the now empty room before him.

  “Chief?” he asked softly, moving up beside him. “Are you okay?”

  Blair didn’t move, just continued to stand and stare ahead. “I expected to feel differently once we caught those guys.” Slowly, his gaze shifted up to Jim. His wide blue eyes had a haunted quality Jim had never seen before. “But I don’t,” he admitted softly. “Those kids are still dead and nothing’s going to change that. Catching those men…it really doesn’t matter, does it?”

  Jim slipped an arm around his shoulders, pulling Blair close against his side. “It matters, Sandburg. It matters to the families of those boys and it matters to anyone else who may have become their future victims.” He looked down at his partner. He was staring forward again but Jim knew he wasn’t seeing the empty room before him. Instead, he was looking into his own heart, searching for answers within his soul.

  "Yeah,” he breathed after a time. “You’re right.”

  “Aren’t I always?” Jim added lightly.

  Blair let out a short laugh. “I wouldn’t go quite that far.” He glanced up at Jim. The haunted quality was gone from his eyes, replaced by a look of total exhaustion. “I’m gonna go home, Jim,” he announced, moving slowly out of his partner’s grip.

  Jim nodded. “I think that's a good idea.”

  “I’ll call a cab and-“

  “No, Blair, I’ll take you home,” Jim cut in, surprised by his partner’s suggestion.

  Blair shook his head. “I want you here, man. I heard those attorneys already talking about what kind of deals they can get for these guys. I want you to make sure they do the max. I know it’s not your case, but they’ll listen to you.”

  “It won’t just be me, Blair. Simon’s going to want in on this, too. Actually, I think half th
e station might want to sit in on these negotiations. Don’t worry--these guys will not get off with a slap on the wrist.” Jim pulled out his wallet, but Blair stopped him with a wave of his hand.

  “I have my own money.”

  Jim slipped his wallet back into his pocket, following his partner out of the room. As they walked, he realized there was still one issue that remained unresolved. “Hey, Sandburg,” he said casually, “why don’t you call Eli once you get home? Let him know what happened today.”

  Reaching the elevators, Blair punched the button, calling for a car, but said nothing.

  Jim frowned. “Blair?”

  “I’ll call him,” he snapped. Then closing his eyes, he ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Sorry.” He looked up at Jim, his eyes searching for understanding. “I’m just tired.”