by Beth Manz
Alex shifted her gaze to him, her smile playful. "You're just jealous."
"That's right. I'm jealous," Brackett said dryly. "Now back away from him."
She leaned in closer, her teeth nipping Blair's earlobe. "I know you just don't want an audience," she whispered. Her gaze flickered to Brackett before returning to him. "Don't worry. I'm working on fixing that."
Blair went cold with her words. Gripping her arms, he shoved her away. She laughed, her eyes wild. Blair turned to Brackett. The man just rolled his eyes.
He has no idea how dangerous she is. What she's planning.
He knew he was right. Brackett found Alex's moods annoying but he did not seem to realize just how close to the edge she was. Brackett always carried a gun with him but used it only to keep Blair in line, never actually using the weapon to threaten Alex into submission. Because Brackett did not see Alex as a threat...at least not to him. Blair knew otherwise and the idea of losing Brackett, losing the only thing that was acting as a buffer between himself and Alex, scared him.
Alex reached out and ran a finger down the side of Blair's face. "Just remember, I want to do touch next." She turned then and left without a backward glance. But Blair knew she would be back. And it wouldn't be long.
Brackett gestured toward the door with the gun. He insisted on shuffling Blair back to his room each time Alex gave up and ended the testing. Blair had no idea why the man even bothered.
"Come on, Mr. Sandburg. Back to your room."
His 'room' was the office he had found himself in the first day he arrived. This room, what Brackett called the 'test room', was just a few short feet away, a quick walk down a darkened hallway. Both were on the second floor of the mill. He knew that from the stairway he'd seen at the end of the hallway.
Blair headed toward the door, Brackett just behind him. Their steps echoed loudly as they made the short trek. Like every other trip, Blair used these few minutes to try and study his surrounding, to find an exit of some kind. But the only lights in the building seemed to be in the two rooms they were using. Blair saw no sunlit windows, no light coming under doorways. Nothing but darkness and shadow.
He reached his door but stopped before entering. "She's planning to kill you, you know."
Brackett let out a short laugh. "You give her too much credit."
"And you don't give her enough." Blair turned sharply. "She threatened you. Just now, she threatened you while you were standing right there."
"She makes threats all the time. She's unstable. That's why you're here. To get her under control."
"What if I can't do that?" he blurted out and immediately wished he could pull the words back in. It was the exhaustion muddling his mind. Otherwise, he would never have asked the question. A question he knew the answer to before Brackett actually said the words.
"You'd better do it, Mr. Sandburg." Brackett closed the distance between them, towering over Blair. "Because your life depends on it."
But for the first time since this whole thing began, Blair thought he heard fear in Brackett's voice. "Why do I get the feeling yours does too."
It was mid-morning by the time they reached the precinct. Jim stalked across the bullpen, barely acknowledging his fellow officers as they called to him. He was thankful for their concern, grateful for their help on the case but didn't have time to say either of those things now. Blair didn't have the time. Because if his partner had been right about Alex, then the last four days had been spent working to train a woman to control senses that would forever remain out of control.
And Blair would die the moment Alex realized it.
He went directly to the conference room, Simon two steps behind him. Joel Taggert looked up as they entered. "Jim, glad to see you up and about." He sat at the end of the long table, the recorder in front of him.
"Thanks, Joel." Jim slid into the seat next to the big detective. "Play it for me."
Taggert glanced briefly at Simon who gave the okay, then pressed the button on the front of the recorder.
911. What is your emergency?
This is Blair Sandburg. I need an ambulance at 852 Prospect, third floor loft. I have an officer down. He's been shot full of tranquilizers.
Jim let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as Blair's worried voice filled the room. He tried to shut off his emotions as he listened. Knew he needed to view this case with a distant, unemotional eye if he was going to help Blair. But as each moment of the tape played and Jim heard his Guide trying first to find out the type of tranquilizer used on him, then warning the operator about Jim's reactions to drugs and finally asking to have Simon contacted, he could feel his gut churning, his pulse racing. But it was the abrupt end of the call that set a stab of rage through him.
Blair had not ended the conversation willing. It had been ended for him. Violently.
"Anything, Jim?"
He glanced at Simon and realized only then that he hadn't tried to pick up anything in the background of the tape. Hadn't listened for any useful sounds or other voices. Had only listened to Blair. "Can I hear it again?" he asked, his voice gruff.
Taggert rewound the tape and hit play. This time Jim worked to push past his Guide's frantic voice. To listen to the sounds in the background. This time, he heard something. Another voice just beyond Blair's. Not Alex. Male. Somehow familiar. But the words were muffled, the voice indistinguishable.
"There's another voice on the tape," Jim said when it was through. "Someone talking to Blair in the background."
Simon nodded. "We're assuming it's Alex but we haven't been able to isolate it."
Jim glanced at Taggert. "Joel, could you give me and Simon a few minutes here."
"No problem." He stood but did not immediately leave. "Jim, I just want you to know that we're all pulling for Blair."
"Thanks, Joel. I appreciate it. So does Sandburg," he added after a moment.
The big detective left then and Jim slid into the seat in front of the recorder. "I think I can isolate the voice," he said, rewinding the tape. His gaze slid briefly to Simon's before returning to the task at hand. "It wasn't Alex."
Simon nodded. "I've already deduced that she had a partner."
"I agree. The voice is definitely male. I'm not sure yet but I think if I can just hear it clearly that I may be able to identify it." He found the spot on the tape he was looking for and closing his eyes, took several deep breaths.
Okay, Jim, just filter out everything you don't need. Blair's voice played through his mind, taking him where he needed to go. Filter out the sound of the recording device. Filter out my voice in the foreground. Hear only what's left. Jim hit the play button.
Hang up the phone, Sandburg! The voice seemed to boom through Jim's mind. And this time he knew exactly who it was. His eyes snapped open. "It's Brackett, Simon. Lee Brackett. I have no doubt."
"Brackett's supposed to be in prison. If he's out, then he was let out."
"I agree," Jim said. "Someone else is pulling his strings." Anger pulsed through him. They were just puppets for these people. A means to an end. He ran a hand over his eyes as all the pieces seemed to click into place for him. "I should have seen this sooner. Someone found out about Alex and contacted Brackett. I'll bet he was the one behind the whole nerve gas theft."
"You think he's been in on this since then?" Simon did not sound convinced.
"Think about it. The break-in at Rainier is his trademark. He was practically rubbing our noses in it and we never suspected a thing." Another thought struck him. "That's what was wrong at the loft. When Blair and I came home, I sensed something...odd before I was taken out. Brackett probably had one of those white noise generators going like the last time. It was the lack of noise that I noticed. I just didn't recognize it in time. Simon, he's the reason I'm still alive."
"I'm not following you, Jim."
"Brackett's an opportunist, not a thug. He'd never kill anyone who he thinks might still be useful to him." Jim hoped that fact would protect
his partner until he could find him. Because he would find him. But will it be in time? "I'm telling you right now, Simon, that if Blair dies, I'm going to find whoever is responsible for this whole thing and I'm going to kill them."
Simon shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Don't say things like that in front of me, Jim."
"It's not an idle threat, sir."
"I know. That's why I don't want you making it in front of me."
Jim fingered the recorder in front of him. "Brackett is the key," he muttered.
"I agree but it still doesn't help us find Sandburg. They could be anywhere by now."
"No, they're still near." The words left Jim's mouth before he had time to even think about them. But he knew he was right, could feel it.
"Jim, how can you know that?"
He shook his head. "I'm not really sure, Simon. But I know I'm right." He stood and crossed to the glass separating him from the rest of the men in Major Crimes. "Blair is somewhere near and he's alive. But I don't think he's going to stay that way for much longer."
Something was wrong.
Bracket watched as Alex finally settled down for sleep. She wouldn't be out long. She never was. When he'd first hooked up with her, she'd had some measure of control. But with each passing day, she seemed to be slipping further and further away. Closer to the edge of insanity. And nothing Sandburg was doing seemed to be helping her in the least.
He waited another five minutes to be sure she was asleep and then made his way through the mill toward the room where they were keeping the anthropologist. He needed to get some results. Fast. Before the men behind this little experiment found out it was failing.
He knew if he succeeded, his superiors would swoop in, scoop up Alex and Blair and the two of them would disappear off the face of the earth. And he would be a free man again. But if he failed....
No. Failure simply was not an option. Brackett was not yet ready to die.
He unlocked the door to the kid's room and glanced inside. Blair lay on the floor in the far corner using his backpack as a pillow. He still wore the same clothes he'd had on since the first day he'd arrived. This time, he hadn't even taken off his shoes before going to sleep.
The kid knows she'll be back for him soon. Why bother?
Bracket crossed to where Blair lay. He frowned as he took in the bruises on the grad student's face. He hadn't expected Alex to get violent. She's planning to kill you, you know.
Blair's words swept though his mind just as they had been for the last twenty-four hours. Clearly Alex was unstable and becoming more unstable with each passing minute. Brackett knew it was quite possible she was planning to kill him. She still had her gun. He hadn't been able to convince her to hand it over to him and he hadn't been able to find where she'd hidden it. So, yes, it would be possible for her to kill him. But he still found it hard to believe she would. Yet, he needed to understand what was happening to her. Needed to get control of this situation.
Crouching down, he shook Sandburg's shoulder.
"Go away, Alex." Blair's voice was deep with sleep. "I need rest."
"Wake up, Sandburg." Brackett shook him again, harder.
Blair blinked up at Brackett. "What now?"
"Why isn't this working?" he asked, keeping his voice soft. He knew Alex was asleep, had just gone to sleep but he didn't want to take any chances of her hearing them. "Why isn't the training working? I know you're trying."
"I don't know." Blair rolled over, closing his eyes.
"Yes, you do," he insisted. "I can see it in your face every time you're with her."
Blair lay quietly and Brackett wondered if it was possible he had fallen back to sleep. He was just getting ready to shake the kid again when he finally spoke. "I can't train her because she's not a Sentinel." He said the words as if it was the most obvious answer and Brackett should have already guessed it.
"What do you mean she's not a Sentinel? I've seen her work all five senses. She's just like Ellison--"
"She's nothing like Jim," Blair snapped, turning to glare at Bracket. Then he launched into a theory he had. A theory about Sentinel guidelines that made a lot of sense to Brackett. And dismissed any hope he had to deliver a trained, functioning Sentinel to his superiors.
"Did you know when you agreed to come with us that you couldn't train her?" he asked when Blair had finished.
"I had my suspicions."
"So you knew more than likely that you wouldn't be able to do what we were going to ask you to do and that we'd kill you when you failed? Yet you came anyway?"
Blair stared at him evenly. "It got you away from Jim, didn't it?"
Brackett was stunned. Blair had offered himself up on a silver platter just to save his partner. That kind of self-sacrifice shocked him. In that moment, he realized he envied the relationship the two men shared. "I really do admire you, you know. I have since I read that first paper of yours."
"Then believe me when I tell you that Alex cannot be trained and because she can't, she'll eventually go insane."
"I think she's already halfway there but you know that." His gaze traveled over the bruises on Blair's face again.
"She'll end up killing us both," he whispered, "unless you help me."
Brackett's gaze narrowed as he considered the words. "Help you how?"
"You get me out of here and I'll help you get a new life. There's got to be some program you can go into, some way for you to disappear."
"Sandburg--"
Blair's hand came up, latched onto Brackett's wrist. "Listen, man, you are not a fool. You know this is not working."
Brackett pulled free of the grip. "It's not just me, Sandburg. The people I work for are not the type that you double-cross."
"Are they the type who'll kill you if you fail?"
Brackett sat back on his heels, staring at the young man before him. Determination burned behind Blair's eyes. He knew the kid believed the offer he was making was a legitimate one. And in that moment, Brackett believed he could make it happen. "What did you have in mind?"
"Did you both forget about my hearing?" The two men turned in unison. Alex stood in the doorway to the office, her weapon trained on them.
The wolf was near. He could hear its heartbeat. Feel its presence. But he couldn't find it. He pushed through the overgrowth of the forest. Just ahead, he could see a large structure. The wolf was inside. Trapped. Hurt. Dying. He rushed forward, urged on by the animal's needs.
A pain-filled howl split the silence. "No!" He slammed against the door of the structure, over and over. The wood splintered then burst inward. And then he saw it. The wolf, huddled on the floor, covered in its own blood, dying. But it wasn't a wolf. It was...
"Blair!" The name exploded from Jim as he jerked upright from sleep. He stood suddenly, sending the chair he sat in crashing to the floor behind him. His gaze swept the room, his hand automatically going to the weapon strapped at his back. But as his fingers closed around the cold steel, he realized where he was -- the loft.
"Damn." He pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes. The dream had been so vivid. The sight of Blair so real. "Where are you, Chief?" he muttered. Reaching behind him, he stood his chair upright and dropped back down.
Simon had forced him to go home. After nearly six hours of listening to the 911 tape, Jim had gotten nothing more from it. And as Simon so eloquently pointed out, he would do Blair no good if he dropped dead from exhaustion.
He had wanted to ask Simon if he could just catch a few hours sleep in his office. But if he did that, he'd have to explain to Simon why he didn't want to go home. Try and make his captain understand that the idea of going back to the loft, of seeing all of Blair's things there, knowing Blair was not, would just prove to be too difficult.
In the end, he had said nothing to Simon. Had instead just gotten in the truck and gone home.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes, exhaustion threatening to pull him back toward sleep. He resisted, not wanting to go back to the place of
his dreams. Dreams that haunted him with deadly visions of Blair. Giving him hope before snatching it away.
Giving him hope? He hadn't realized until that thought ran through his head that that was what this latest dream had done. Why had it given him hope? The images had been of Blair dying? How could that give him hope? What was it about the dream that had brought out that particular emotion?
He needed to figure it out. Maybe if he could interpret what the dream meant, he could find Blair. Doubt tightened his muscles and snaked down his back. He had misinterpreted his dreams once before and Blair had almost died because of it. If he did the same thing now, would he lose his partner forever?
He had no choice. Blair was missing and they didn't have clue one on where to find him. His dreams were all he had at this point. He had to at least try.
He took a deep breath and concentrated. An image flashed through his mind. An image from his dream. The wolf disappearing into the broken down building. Something about that structure. Something...familiar.
Isolate the image. Blair's voice once more played through his mind. Block out everything else. Just see the structure. Let the image wash over you and the memory return.
Jim listened to his Guide. Followed his instructions. And the image clarified in his mind. Formed into a clear visual. His eyes snapped open. His breath caught in his throat.
He knew where Blair was.
Grabbing his jacket, he raced for the door. He punched Simon's number into the cell phone as soon as he had the truck on the road.
"Banks," the captain barked into the line.
"Simon--"
"Jim, you're supposed to be--"
"Simon, I know where Blair is."
"You wh--what?" the captain stammered. "How--"
"I can't explain it, Simon. You just have to trust me."
"What do you need, Jim." There was no hesitation in the words. No doubt.
"I need you to get backup and paramedics out to Jax Lumber Mill out on South 94."
"Consider it done." Simon broke the connection and Jim tossed the phone to the other side of the truck cab.
"Hold on, Chief. I'm on my way."