"Sacrifice"

Danae (danae37@webtv.net)

Disclaimer:  The characters of "The Sentinel" do not belong to
me.  I am only borrowing them for a little while for a little fun
and mayhem.  I will return them relatively intact.  No harm or
infringement is intended and I certainly ain't making no money.  
The characters of Brendon and Branwyn belong to me as well as a
few assorted nuts that you will find.

Kudos to my wonderful beta reader, Laura.  You have my
everlasting gratitude.  And to Michelle, for her inspiration.
And to everyone who wrote me with feedback on the first two
stories in this trilogy.

Did you say "trilogy?"  That's right.  Trilogy.  Which means that
this story will not make much sense unless you read at least the
first one since most of the references and all the major
characters come from it.  However, reading both will assure that
you won't be lost.  They are "Saviors" and "Sanity."

Okay, on with it.

Sacrifice

Dr. Branwyn MacDonald watched as the obviously agitated police
detective paced back and forth in front of her desk.  James
Ellison was not happy.  He had not said a word since entering the
office and her greeting had been ignored.  She began to wonder if
her carpet could survive having Ellison as a patient.  She
expected him to be worried after the events of the last week. 
Both she and his partner being kidnapped while he was
recuperating from a gunshot wound in the hospital and said
partner, one Blair Sandburg, adorable charmer and die-hard
pacifist, being forced to shoot a man to save himself would be
enough to have Jim worried.  This, however, went way beyond
worried.  He looked like some big cat, planning an attack against
some hapless creature that was invading his territory.  She hoped
she was not that hapless creature.  She decided to try to break
the fifteen minute long silence.  After all, he only had an hour
and he was not exactly paying for the right to wear out her
carpet.  "Jim, why don't you sit down and talk to me?"

He looked at her as if he had not realized that she was there. 
She wiggled her nose at him like a bunny and actually got a
small, very small, smile out of him.  He took a deep breath and
released it slowly.  Then he sat.  She waited.  He opened his
mouth and closed it again.  She checked the amused look on her
face at the last moment and closed her eyes to hide the attempt.
"It was too close."  She jumped at the sound of his voice.  Her
eyes opened and met his.  


"What was too close?" she asked quietly.

"With Blair.  I'm--" he looked down at his hands, "afraid for
Blair.  He's not, he can't... What if seeing and doing these
things with me, my job... I don't want it to change him.  Being
my g--partner could destroy him.  I couldn't live with that."

"Jim, I can't promise you that Blair will never change.  Everyone
changes.  You know that.  However, I will tell you this.  Blair
is a grown-up.  He makes his own decisions and he has the right
to do so.  You are not responsible for Blair's decisions."

"Yes, I am.  In a way, I am.  He's involved in my work, my life
because I need him to be.  If it weren't for me, he would be on
some expedition somewhere and nowhere near crazy cult leaders and
nuts with guns and drug dealers and organized crime and on and
on.  I'm responsible for him."

Wyn's forehead wrinkled, puzzled.  *There's that *need* stuff
again.*  "Jim, each adult person in this world is responsible for
himself.  Now, I have heard both you and Blair say that you need
him.  Simon has implied it.  What is going on?  What is this
*need* and why does Blair fill it for you?  I could understand
your feelings better if I knew where they were coming from."

Jim shook his head.  "I can't explain it.  You'll just have to
trust me.  Just know that Blair is very important to me.  I'm a
better detective because of his influence.  As a matter of fact,
I'm a better person, too.  And I'm his Blessed Protector."  There
was a strange, whimsical smile on his face as he made the last
statement.

"His what?" she asked, the amused look she tried so hard to
suppress finally breaking through her control.

"I saved his life.  Blair says, according to Chinese legend, that
makes me his Blessed Protector.  It was a joke at first but, you
know, maybe it's true.  Maybe I am his protector.  Maybe I am
responsible for him now."

"Jim, I'm sure that Blair did not mean for you to take that
literally.  He is responsible for his own life.  I thought we had
already covered this and yet, here it is, back again."

"Wyn, I think it will always be there.  Blair's like a kid
brother to me.  I have this protective instinct where he's
concerned.  You have to understand that.  I've seen Brendon react
just as strongly as I do when he thinks you're threatened.  Only
thing is this, that protective instinct is constantly at odds
with my need to have Blair with me in the field as my partner. 
Every day, I expose Blair to danger.  Danger that I don't want
him to see or experience.  Danger that I *have* to protect him
from.  What do I do, Wyn?"


Wyn felt a pain of sympathy for the man across her desk.  "Jim,
you can't wrap him in bubble wrap and packing popcorn and put him
on a shelf.  Yes, Brendon tends to get a little protective
sometimes but he never makes my decisions for me.  He lets me
live my life, such as it is.  And as you know, it's pretty
strange and more than a little dangerous.  Brendon would rather I
not continue to infiltrate but it works so I do it and he has no
right to force me to stop.  You can't force Blair to stop being
your partner.  You can't force Blair to allow you to make his
decisions and run his life.  You don't want to do that either. 
You say you don't want Blair to change.  Well, then in that case,
you need to accept that if Blair suddenly decided to let you do
those things, your worst fears are already confirmed.  Blair will
have changed and not, in my humble opinion, for the better."

Silence filled the office for long moments before Wyn heard Jim's
whispered reply.  "I know.  But I don't have to like it."

"No, I don't suppose you do."

______________________________________________________

Jim threw his keys into the basket and himself on the couch. 
Blair was home.  He could hear the young man tapping away on his
laptop in his room.  The tapping stopped and he listened as Blair
got up and moved to his door.  

"Jim?" came the question, followed closely by the questioner.  

Jim looked over his shoulder to watch his guide pad over to the
couch.  "Hey, Chief.  How was your day?"

"Quiet, thank all the stars in the sky.  How about yours?"  In
other words, Jim realized, *How was your session?*

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

"Chief, I have learned my lesson.  What I say in Wyn's office,
stays in Wyn's office.  Anything we need to work out together is
to be done in Brendon's office.  Last time I opened my big mouth,
we ended up in a fight, I got shot, and you escaped from
protective custody and got kidnapped."

"Touche'.  Have Brown and Rafe forgiven me yet?"

"I think they're getting there.  Today, instead of planning your
untimely demise, they were just going to send both Cassie and Sam 
e-mail with your name signed to it professing undying love and
devotion."

"God, I'd rather they just kill me out right and quick." Blair
moaned.

"I know.  Can you imagine the fireworks?"

"I'd rather not, thanks.  Jim, you won't let them do it to me,
will you?"

"I don't know, Chief.  You definitely deserve to be taught a
little lesson.  Besides, it would be so much fun to watch."

"Jim!"  

The phone rang before Jim could respond to the pathetic whine. 
He rose from his sprawl on the couch and went to answer it,
laughing softly at the horror on Blair's face.  "Ellison." he
said into the receiver.  "Hi, Simon.  What's up?"  Jim listened
to his boss and the smile fell from his face.  Blair noticed and
got up to join his roommate by the phone.  "Yes, sir.  We'll be
there.  Thanks, Simon."  He stared at the phone in his hand for a
second before returning it to its cradle.  

"What is it?"

"The state district attorney wants to meet with us tomorrow about
one of the cult leaders.  He wants to cut a deal and the DA wants
our input before he goes along with it.  Wyn and Brendon are
being asked to be there too."

"Which one?"  Jim could hear the tremble in Blair's voice and
settled his hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezed in
reassurance.

"You knew him as Brother Joshua.  His real name is Glen
Covington."

Jim could tell that Blair was a little relieved.  "Not Matthew. 
As long as it's not Matthew."

"Matthew is the one who tortured you?"

"Yeah, Joshua was there but he never... he didn't... he just
asked questions."  There was horror of a different kind in
Blair's eyes and Jim shuddered.  He wanted, needed to take it
away.  He did not know how.

The rest of the evening was subdued.  Blair made dinner and the
two of them ate in near silence.  They cleaned in near silence
and watched TV in near silence.  Blair went to bed early and Jim
fretted and fumed.  
______________________________________________

Jim opened his eyes and sat up in bed.  Something had woke him. 
He was afraid he already knew what as he focused his hearing on
Blair's room.  Sure enough, Blair's heart was racing and over the
heartbeat was the frantic mumbling.  The words, Jim recognized. 
Blair was back in the camp, in that chapel, with Matthew.  Blair
had had these dreams before when he had first come home from the
cult and his deprogramming.  He got up and grabbed his robe.  He
made his way downstairs and to Blair's bedroom.  He opened the
doors and slipped in.  

"Nobody.  Nobody loves me." came from the writhing figure on the
bed.  Jim felt a stab of pain in the vicinity of his heart and a
red rage burning through his head.  "Only Mother and Father love
me.  Only Mother and Father can save me.  Father protects me..." 
Jim had heard enough.  He moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Blair?" he said softly.  He reached out to touch but drew back
as he remembered the response a touch had gotten before.  Blair
had come off the bed at the touch of Jim's hand and screamed as
though he had been burned.  Perhaps that was the way it felt to
him in the midst of the dream.  After all, he had been tortured
with a taser.  "Chief, wake up." he commanded.

"Nobody loves me."

"Blair, wake up!  Come on, buddy."

The big blue eyes opened, panic giving way quickly to relief. 
Blair sighed, swallowed hard and closed his eyes again, taking a
moment to compose himself before he spoke.  "Thanks, Jim."

"No problem, Chief.  Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I woke you."

"Like I said, no problem."  Jim patted his shoulder and got up to
leave.

"Jim?"

Jim turned back to face his friend.  "Yeah?"

"They aren't going to let him go, are they?"

"Not if I can help it."

_____________________________________________________

Wyn embraced a very anxious Blair the next morning and held his
hand as she, Blair, Jim, and Brendon met outside Cascade City
Hall where the local District Attorney's office was located.  The
state attorney was sending a representative there to speak with
them.  Apparently, he was simply too busy to get away from the
capital himself.  Wyn frowned and silently called the man by the
name he deserved rather than his given one.  Other greetings were
made and they entered the building to find Simon Banks waiting
for them in front of the elevators.  The whole group made their
way to the third floor.  Once there and inside the DA's office,
they were led to a conference room where a tall, stocky and
balding man was waiting for them.  He turned as they entered. 
"Good morning, gentlemen," he approached Simon first with his
hand held out.  Simon took it.  "My name is Frank Dyer.  I'm an
ADA in the state attorney's office.  Mr. Bauers regrets that he
can't be here," the man offered his hand to each of the men as he
spoke, "but he has some rather pressing matters he must attend
to."  The man finished and backed up to sit down at the head of
the long table.  He had not offered his hand to Wyn.  "Please sit
and let's get started.  Sweetheart," he turned to Wyn as she
moved to the table, "would you get us some coffee?"

"Only if you're going to wear it." Wyn replied, sweetly.

"Pardon?"

"I'm not your sweetheart and I don't do coffee, Mr. Dyer."

"Mr. Dyer," Simon stepped in quickly, "this is Dr. Branwyn
MacDonald.  She's here to consult on this case."

"I was under the impression that Dr. MacDonald was a man."

"I am." Brendon spoke, harshly through gritted teeth.  "She is
not.  You owe my sister an apology."

"There are two of you?"

"Yes, and you still owe the lady an apology,"  Blair said calmly.

"Of course.  Very sorry, Dr. MacDonald.  I confused you with the
secretary."

"Keep digging that hole, Mr. Dyer.  I doubt she's your sweetheart
either and not every woman in an office is a secretary."  Wyn's
smile never left her face.  She let the tone speak for itself.

"Yes, well, I understand your point."  He cleared his throat and
perspiration appeared on his brow.  "Now on to business.  Glen
Covington is willing to testify against Ruth and Isaac Morrison
in exchange for immunity from the drug charges.  Covington claims
that while he knew about the drug lab, he was completely
controlled by the Morrisons.  He says that he is a victim of
indoctrination.  I'm inclined to believe the poor boy but Mr.
Bauer wants to get your input before we cut this deal.  Captain
Banks, would your department have any objections?"

Simon looked to Jim then Blair.  He noted the stone face of his
detective and the nervous fidgeting of his observer.  "Perhaps,
you need to direct that question to Mr. Sandburg.  He is the one
here, at least within the department, with the most knowledge of
Covington."

"Mr. Sandburg?" the man asked, looking down at his hands instead
of at Blair.


Blair looked to Jim and the man nodded.  Blair swallowed and
began.  "I don't want to see any of them get off.  Broth--
Covington, " he corrected, "didn't actually do anything directly
to me but David said that he threatened him.  I don't believe
that he was a victim in this.  He was pretty high up in the
organization from what I saw."

"I have to agree with Blair."  All eyes turned to Wyn.  "While I
had a lot more contact with the Morrisons and Matthew, Joshua, or
rather Covington, was definitely a right hand man so to speak. 
At best, he's an unknown quantity.  He wasn't there when Brendon
was.  I know of him but not him.  I will tell you this, though,
he sure turned on the Morrisons awfully quick to have been a
brainwashed follower.  Those people truly indoctrinated would not
dream of turning on Mother and Father.  He seems to have done
just that so I have to question his story."

"Did either of you ever see Glen Covington at the drug lab?"

"No." Wyn answered while Blair shook his head.

"So you can't say for sure that he was intricately involved with
it.  You just have a feeling." Dyer almost sneered.

"Mr. Dyer, why don't you just say what you are getting at."  Jim
sat up in his chair and glared at the man.

"I'm sorry.  It's just that I have spoken with the young man and
he seems very sincere."

"You're going to give him the deal no matter what we say, aren't
you?"  Blair's voice was barely a whisper.

"Mr. Sandburg, the Morrisons are claiming that they were setup by
the police and a man named Jacobs that they claim they were
leasing the building to.  Jacobs is a known trafficker and they
want a deal that will give us Jacobs but allow them to walk. 
Covington is willing to give us all three of them on a silver
platter.  I think we have to go with the lesser of two evils
here.  I'm sure you'll agree that giving up Covington to get
Jacobs *and* the Morrisons off the street is the lesser of the
two we have been presented with.

"Damn it!" Jim hit the table with his fist before reaching out to
touch Blair's arm.  A look passed between them and Blair
shrugged.  Simon, having watched the scene, turned to Dyer.

"Do what you have to do."

___________________________________________________

Brendon sat silent, listening to the two men in his office argue. 
They had been at it for a while and it all started with some
remark about a Blessed Protector.  

"You are not my father, Jim!  You are not my guardian!  I'm a
grown up here, man!"

"Grown or not, when you are on the streets with me, I am your
guardian and you can just stop with the *father* crap!  And, just
so we understand each other, if I had been your father, your life
would have turned out a lot differently and we wouldn't be having
this conversation right now!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"

*Okay, time to intervene before this gets ugly.*  Brendon sat up. 
"Gentleman, gentlemen, screaming is really not necessary.  We are
all in the same room."

"I want to know what he means by that!" Blair insisted.

"And we will find out, quietly.  I'm sure Wyn and her patient are
getting an earful with the rapidly increasing volume in here. 
Jim, quietly, without screaming, tell Blair how you feel and what
you mean."

Jim's jaw twitched and he took a moment to visibly calm himself
before he spoke.  "I worry about him."

"Tell him not me."

Jim turned to face his friend and partner.  "I worry about you. 
You just seem so... I'm not sure how to say this.  Sometimes,
Blair, you seem so sure of yourself but other times, you seem
so... God, you don't seem to know your own worth.  I just would
have liked to have been there when whoever in your life made you
question that.  And I'm trying not to blame Naomi but there it
is.  She just didn't give you any stability.  No home, no father,
no rules.  I know that she loves you and she seems to worry about
you but where was she when you needed to be assured, when you
needed to feel secure?  Damn, Blair, she gave those people the
weapons to use against you in that cult and I can't forgive her."

"You blame me.  And you blame my mom.  Is that it?"

"I don't blame you anymore."

"Yes, you do.  I could get really pissed right now, Jim.  I mean,
how dare you point a finger at my mom, right?  What gives you the
right?  I could really just lay you out right now but I'd be such
a hypocrite.  I blame me and I blame Naomi so I can't really
punch you out now can I?"

"It's not your fault, Blair.  You were doing what you could to
hold out until the cavalry came.  You just didn't realize that
the cavalry wasn't coming.  Wyn and Brendon have told me that you
were awfully tough.  They were amazed at how long you were able
to hold on.  That's another thing, you don't know your own
strength sometimes.  I should tell you more often that I'm proud
of how you manage to handle the things you have to see and do
because you're my partner.  You're always there when I need you
and yet when you needed me, I failed not once but twice."

Blair was puzzled.  "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Chief, you said it yourself.  You called for me.  You
waited for me and I didn't come.  You said that you weren't
waiting anymore and it's a good thing that you weren't because
John Appling could have killed you and I wasn't there in time to
stop it.  You had to do it yourself.  Jesus, Blair, I don't know
what would have happened if you hadn't shot him.  I could not
have lived with myself if you had been killed.  And if Appling
had died and you... Blair, Chief, you have to promise me that
you'll do whatever it takes to protect yourself.  I'll help you
deal with the consequences later.  I'm so scared that working
with me is going to change you but I'm more scared that working
with me is going to kill you."

Blair drew a deep breath and tried to blink away the tears that
threatened to fall.  His blue eyes were shining brightly and a
single tear did manage to escape to roll down his expressive
face.  "I did blame you.  I'm so sorry, Jim."

"Not half as sorry as I am for giving you reason."

"Gentlemen, I'm sorry as well because your time is up for this
week.  Blair, I'll see you tomorrow at 4:00.  I think we made
some progress today.  You certainly got some things out in the
open that you both have been avoiding.  Blair, tomorrow we will
work through it.  Jim, you have an appointment with Wyn tomorrow
at 5:15, correct?  You may want to discuss this with her.  Now,
go out to dinner and try to relax.  See you later."

Once they were safely inside the truck, Jim put both hands on the
steering wheel and sighed.  "I don't know about you, Chief, but I
feel like I have been put through the spin cycle and the wringer
and hung out to dry. Let's pick up some Chinese and go home."

Blair only nodded.

"You okay, buddy?"

Only a nod again and Jim reached out to ruffle Blair's curly
locks.  "Sure?"

"I--"  Blair shook himself, "I'm just... you know, spin cycle,
wringer, hung out." He shrugged.

"Yeah."  Jim started the truck and headed for home.

_______________________________________________

Glen Covington stepped out of his cell and followed the
officer down the hall.  He picked up his things and walked out of
the lockup to met Frank Dyer on the steps outside.

"I've arranged a place for you to stay, Glen."

"Thanks."  Covington took the key the man offered and noted that
it was a hotel room key from a relatively nice mid-priced hotel.  

"Are you sure that you won't need a safehouse?  One can be easily
arranged."

"Absolutely sure, Mr. Dyer.  Cascade PD managed to round up just
about everybody except for Jacobs and I understand that Seattle
PD picked him up for you yesterday?"

"That's right."

"Then I should be safe.  Besides, after years of being under the
Morrisons' thumbs, I don't want to trade one prison for another,
which is why I'm doing this in the first place.  Don't worry, Mr.
Dyer.  I'll be okay and I'll be here when you need me.  I want to
do this."

"I know, son.  Well, let's get you to your hotel."  Dyer put his
hand on Covington's arm and tried to lead him to his car.  

"Sir, if you don't mind, I'd like to walk and enjoy the freedom. 
It's not that far, right?"

"Just about two miles east of here."

"I can do that.  Please?"

"Sure.  Just be careful.  I'll be in touch."

"Yes, sir."  Covington watched the man get into his car and pull
away.  He waited until the man was out of sight, then turned to
face a van not far away.  He motioned and the van pulled from its
parking space and moved up beside him.  He opened the door and
got in.  "Hello, Sister Amy.  How is everything?"

"As well as can be expected with Mother and Father in Satan's
prison.  Everyone is waiting for us at the second camp."

"Good.  Let's get moving."

"You have a plan to free Mother and Father, right?"

"Of course, Amy.  But first we have to deal with the traitor. 
It's going to take some time but we will survive and we will
rebuild."


Amy smiled sweetly.

----------------------------------------------------

"Brendon, I really don't know what I feel right now.  That's the
scariest part.  Everything seems to be going so fast in my head. 
Just when I think I've dealt with one issue, another jumps up to
bite me on my ass.  I get it beaten down and the first one comes
back and on and on and on.  It's just a never ending cycle.  I
don't know.  And now, they've let Brother Joshua out.  Jim told
me that they let him go earlier today and now they can't find
him.  He's not where they put him.  First John, now Joshua.  What
if he comes after me?  Or comes after Wyn?  I can't deal with
another John.  I can't do that again.  I know that worries the
hell out of Jim but I don't want to ever have to shoot anybody
ever again.  But I can't let them take me back either.  Oh God,
see what I mean?  Round and round, we go!"

"Any more nightmares?"

"Hell, yes!  First, it's Matthew and then it's John.  I don't
know which one scares me the worst.  Matthew, I'm back, tied to
that chair, and the questions, and the taser, and pain, and then
breaking, giving up.  That's the worst part of that dream, giving
up."

"Why?"

"Weakness, I'm weak.  And betrayal.  I turned my back on
everything I believed in, just to stop the pain.  I betrayed Jim,
Simon, my mom, my grandmother, all my friends, everything, even
myself.  But, you know, especially Jim.  He didn't want me to do
it in the first place and then I go and prove him right, that I
couldn't handle it.  Then I tried to justify myself by blaming
him.  I told myself that he betrayed me because he promised to be
there and he didn't come when I called.  Simon told me that Jim
heard me and that he wouldn't let him come.  That Jim tried.  And
that Jim cried.  Man, he shouldn't have told me that.  Jim would
be so mad if he knew that I knew he cried."

"Why do you say that?" Brendon asked calmly, even as he wondered
how Ellison could have possibly heard what was going on inside
the camp.  

"Come on, Brendon, Jim's a tough guy.  Jim Ellison?  Crying?  Try
and get him to admit it, ever."

Brendon chuckled but said nothing.

"Anyway, maybe I didn't want to know either.  I bitch because Jim
hovers so badly but I have to admit that sometimes I like it.  I
like knowing that somebody gives a damn about what happens to me. 
And I guess I sort of had the image in my head of Jim the
Unshakable, Jim the Infallible, Jim Superman Extraordinaire, not
one single weakness.  I mean, he does kinda exude that, doesn't
he?  He just seems like, I don't know, the Great Wall of
Cascade."

"As opposed to China?"  Brendon was openly laughing.

Blair grinned and lowered his eyes.  "I found out Jim was human
and I blamed him for that, too."

"You knew that all along, Blair.  You maybe didn't want to see it
but you knew."

A long silence followed as Blair thought about that and Brendon
let him.  "Yeah," Blair said finally, "you're right.  I'm blowing
this way out of proportion, aren't I?"

"About time you figured that out.  Look, Blair, this whole
experience has left you a bundle of raw nerves.  Everything is
larger than life.  Your emotions are dancing on your sleeve
like never before.  I get the feeling they were out there anyway
before this but now, they are having a party, dude.  Life goes
on, Blair.  It's time to chalk this up to ADGE and move on."

"What's ADGE?"

"Another Damn Growth Experience.  You gotta hate 'em, but you
gotta have 'em."

Blair sat back in the chair and smiled, a real smile.  Brendon
watched it light up the smoky blue eyes until the smoke cleared
and the soul behind shined and warmed the room.  

*And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the hook that my sister is
caught on.* Brendon thought, in awe and amusement.  "Blair, I
have just one question.  How did Jim hear you from outside the
perimeter of the camp?"

Blair's face blanked, like the proverbial deer in the headlights,
for a split second then he shrugged, "I must have yelled pretty
loud, huh?"

Brendon frowned and scribbled a note to himself to talk to Wyn
about his suspicions.  Something was up with these two that
neither of them wanted known.

_____________________________________________________

Days passed then weeks.  The DA was forced to release Jacobs and
proceed with his existing case against Ruth and Isaac Morrison
and Matthew Fitzpatrick.  No trace of Glen Covington could be
found.  Blair relaxed finally and began to go about his life with
his usual energy and enthusiasm.  Brendon was almost ready to
release him from therapy.  Jim, however, was a whole different
story.  Blair sighed when he thought of his friend.  Jim was a
little less fretful but he was still hovering somewhat.  No
matter what Blair said or did to reassure the man, Jim was
convinced that the ordeal was not over and that Blair needed
protection.  Brendon had confided to him than Wyn was at her
wit's end.  She apparently was having no better luck than he
himself in soothing the Sentinel part of Jim's psyche.  Jim
refused to stand down from his vigilant guard over Blair.  He was
not following Blair around anymore but he insisted on frequent
calls when they were apart and freaked out if Blair stood out in
the open or near a window for very long.  The trial was set to
start the next week and that only served to make things worse. 
Blair was pretty calm.  His nightmares were less frequent and he
found that he could think of Matthew and not tremble down to his
Nikes, finally. 

He was deep in thought as he crossed the commons area of the
campus and was therefore a little startled when he heard his name
being shouted out.  He turned toward the voice and found Mike
Phillips running toward him.  The large teaching assistant came
to an abrupt stop in front of Blair.  Mike had been largely
responsible for Jim and Simon finding him when John had taken him
to that condemned house.  Blair had fulfilled his promise to
explain the whole situation to his big, burly, football-obsessed
colleague who promptly promised to kick his butt if he ever got
into trouble again and did not call him.  Mike had given Blair
his home address and phone number, even a beeper number, and had
made it a point to keep up with Blair and check on him from time
to time.  Blair could not help but be thankful that he seemed to
attract guardians at least as well as he attracted trouble. 
"How's it going, Mike?"

"I just came from your office.  There's some guy there that I
don't know and he wouldn't tell me what he wanted.  I called the
cops and told them but they didn't seem too impressed so here I
am.  Can you call your buddy?"

"Yeah, but what if it's nothing.  What if it's a lawyer or that
ADA Frank Dyer?  Jim's worried enough.  Can you come with me to
the office?"

"Of course, man.  You know it."

The two of them started for Blair's office.  Once inside the
Anthropology building, they eased up to the hallway where Blair's
office was located and peeked around the corner.  

"There's nobody there now," Blair announced.  "Maybe it was
nothing."

"Yeah, and maybe it was that crazy guy again." 

"Mike, John's in the state hospital, man."  Blair smiled at his
friend.  "Look, I've got to pick up a few things here and get to
class," he told the TA as he rounded the corner and headed for
his office door.

"Fine, but I'm checking that office before I leave."

Blair smirked at him and shook his head.  "Suit yourself, man,
but I'm telling you, you're getting as bad as Jim."

Mike took the keys out of Blair's hand and unlocked the door and
entered first, turning briefly to put a restraining forearm
across Blair's chest.  "Stay here until I check it out."


Blair sighed.  "Just like Jim."

"Yeah, well, there are worse things to be.  Like dead, maybe." 
Blair heard the man say as he searched the obviously empty
office.  "Okay.  Come on in.  I got to head back to my own
office.  Oh, I'll bring back that magazine I borrowed in a little
bit.  I know you got a class but if I don't do it now, I'll
forget again so I'll slip it under the door.  Okay?"

"Sure.  Catcha later and thanks, man."

"No problem, dude."  Mike slapped Blair on the shoulder on his
way out.

When Phillips was gone, Blair busied himself, gathering his notes
for his class.  A knock on the door pulled his attention away
from his flurry of activity.  "Come in." he called absently,
sighing inwardly at the interruption when he was already running
late.  The door opened and Blair raised his head.  What he saw
sent him scrambling to his feet, eyes frantically searching for a
means of escape.  But escape was not to be.

Twenty minutes later, the Anthropology 101 students gathered
their things and wandered out of the classroom, most of them
expressing wonder and concern that Professor Sandburg would skip
out on class.

Mike Phillips was rounding the landing on the stairs when the
flood of students poured into the stairway.  He caught a few bits
and pieces of their conversation, enough to make him want to hear
more and he stopped a freckled faced redhead with a giant hand on
her arm.  "Are you guys saying that Professor Sandburg didn't
show up for class?"

"That's right, Professor Phillips.  No note or anything.  It's
not like him."

"You're damn straight, it's not like him."  Mike turned and
headed back down the stairs.

___________________________________________________

"Look, Jacobs, I told you I could handle it and I am." Glen
Covington growled into the phone receiver.  He rolled his eyes at
the reply he was given.  "We don't need those two dumbasses!  Let
me give you a few pieces of information.  Isaac couldn't tie his
shoes without written instructions and, remember you asked once
if he believed his own crap?  Well, guess what, he does.  He
actually thinks that he is on some mission to rule the freaking
world, dude.  And Ruth is just some aging nymphomaniac who used
Isaac's delusions to supply herself with a steady stream of
bedmates.  I was the one who came to you with the plan.  I'm the
one who ran the damn lab and I'm the one who was helping you get
rich.  Now, with the nuts out of the way, we can get even richer
because we don't have to cut them in on the deal.  We're in a
whole new location and I've been here for weeks with no sign of
cops so it's obviously well-hidden.  I've got the zombies out
here with me and they can be our workforce.  All I have to tell
them is that it's part of the plan to free Mother and Father and
they'll do whatever I say.  This setup is even better than the
one before, I swear."  He listened again to the voice on the
other end of the phone.  "No. I will not give up on Sandburg.  I
want that little bastard dead.  He cost me a lot of money and a
lot of trouble and I intend on ridding the world of him.  And you
want to know the best part of it?  I won't even have to get my
hands dirty.  I sent my zombies out to get him.  They're bringing
him back now and when the time comes, 'cause you know we have to
do this right to make God happy, they will kill him for me.  A
sacrifice to avenge Mother and Father and Matthew and to regain
the favor of God.  It's too perfect.  Don't you think? In the
meantime, I'm going to take my time and money out of his ass."

_____________________________________________________

Jim cursed and kicked the trashcan in Blair's office.  He ignored
both Mike Phillips and Simon.  The two men stood well out of
range of his rage.  Phillips had found the office in shambles and
no Blair.  He had called Simon's number immediately.  Jim stood
in the midst of the destruction, seething.  Who had taken his
guide was not in question in Jim's mind.  Why, he knew as well. 
It was where and what for that made Jim shudder and then kick
the trashcan again.  He saw Simon approaching him from the corner
of his eye and turned to meet his captain face to face.

"Jim," the man said calmly.

"What, Simon, what?  Calm down?  Get a hold of myself?"

"Temper tantrums aren't going to help Sandburg.  We have work to
do."

"Where do we start, Captain?!  I have no idea where to start!  I
can't even think right now beyond hunting down Frank Dyer and
choking the life out of him for letting that damn fruitcake out
of jail!"

"I know, I know, but I don't think that's any better a course of
action than kicking the hell out of Blair's trashcan."  Simon
turned to see the forensics team arrive with Cassie Wells leading
the way.

"Oh, God, Simon, I can't deal with her right now.  Keep her away
from me," Jim moaned softly.

In response, Simon reached out for Jim's arm and led him out of
the office, motioning for Phillips to follow.  "We're going to
get out of your way, Wells.  I want a report as soon as
possible," he told the annoying woman.

"Of course, Captain Banks.  Jim..." she started but Simon pulled
Jim away and down the hall before she could say anymore. 
Phillips followed.

"Thank you, Mr. Phillips." Simon told the young man.

"Hey, anything for Blair.  Let me know if I can do anything
else."

"Thanks, Mike," Jim mumbled.

Phillips just squeezed his shoulder and left.

"Jim, I've got Brown, Rafe, Prentiss and Jackson canvassing the
campus for anyone who might have seen anything.  Let's you and me
go and find out if this group owns any more property."

Jim allowed Simon to pull him along until a thought struck him. 
He stopped abruptly almost throwing Simon off balance.  "Simon,
where the hell is Dyer?  He should be here. He created this mess. 
The least he could do is be here to help fix it."

"He's been relieved of his duties until the Bauer decides whether
or not to fire him over this.  Bauer was not happy when Covington
disappeared."

Jim shook his head.  "I've got to call Wyn and Brendon."

"Yeah, maybe you do need to talk to Dr. MacDonald.  And the other
one needs to know he might be on call for Blair."

"No, Simon, that's not what I mean."

"Oh, Wyn and Blair."  Simon nodded in understanding.

"Well, that too, but Simon, think.  If anybody knows anything
about these people, it's them."

"I don't know, Jim.  We tried that with Appling.  They couldn't
come up with anything beyond the camp and the welcome center."

"Different circumstances, Simon.  They expected Appling to be
predictable and before we got a chance to dig deeper all hell
broke loose.  It's worth a shot."

"Yeah, okay, you could be right.  I'll head down to the land
registry office and you talk to the MacDonalds."

Jim headed for the truck but stopped as Simon called out to him.
"Yeah?"

"I know you're upset but try to be calm."

"Gotcha."
________________________________________________

Blair became aware of his headache first as he moaned softly and
shifted on his bed.  He opened his eyes then and became aware of
the fact that he was not in his bed.  He sat up quickly and was
rewarded with a wave of dizziness and lots of pretty little stars
floating in his vision.  Memory came with those stars and fear
with it.  Steve at his office door, then Amy and Kathy and some
other guy he did not know.  He remembered throwing his backpack
at them.  He remembered knocking all his Anthro 204 students'
term papers off the desk while trying to escape the hands that
reached for him.  Then he remembered slipping on those papers and
falling and the world turning dark.  He frowned at the bitter
irony.  He had managed to knock himself out and made it easy for
them.  And here he was, but where here was, he was not sure.  He
examined the room. Small, one cot, the one he was on, one door
and a very small, very high window.  He sighed and rubbed his
temples trying to ease the pain in his head.  A noise from the
direction of the door made him jerk his head up.  More stars. 
The door opened and Amy entered with Glen Covington right behind
her.

"Thank you, Sister Amy.  You can go now."  Covington told the
petite blond, who only nodded and walked out, closing the door as
she went.  

Blair swung his legs off the cot and tried to stand.  He quickly
realized, however, that maybe that was not such a good idea as
another wave of dizziness washed over him.  He sat heavily on the
cot again and raised his hands to his head.  Nausea threatened
and he swallowed hard and took a deep breath.  It abated
somewhat.

Covington stood watching, silent, his arms crossed over his
chest.  He chuckled, humorlessly, at Blair's efforts.  He
approached slowly.  "Hello, Brother Blair. Don't get up on my
account."  He stopped at the end of the cot and stared down at
Blair.

"What do you want with me, Covington?"

"Covington?  No warm welcome for your Brother?" the man paused
briefly before continuing.  "Just as well, you know.  Means we
can cut the crap.  We aren't brothers, that's for sure.  Let me
tell you a little story, *Sandburg*.  See, here's the thing.  I
know, just as well as you do, maybe better, that the Morrisons
are crazy as hell."

Blair looked up at the man, surprised by what he was hearing.
"Then, why?"

Covington laughed heartily and began to pace in the small room. 
"Because they were convenient.  Let me explain.  Matthew, yes,
that's his real name, is a buddy of mine.  We have certain things
in common, like, for example, we both like money a lot.  We had
pulled a few jobs together, hold-ups, burglary, that kind of
thing. Then we had ourselves a fairly profitable little drug
operation going.  And *then*, we ran across the Morrisons' set-
up.  Now, don't get me wrong.  Isaac Morrison actually believes
that he is ordained by God to save the world from Satan's evil
influence.  However, he is also a reasonable man.  He knew that
he needed money to battle Satan.  Ruth, well, you know about
Ruth, don't ya?" Covington wiggled his eyebrows at Blair. 
"Anyway, she was using her brother's little god complex to her
advantage already so she had no objections.  So, now, me and
Matthew come on board, so to speak.  I help get the Morrisons in
touch with Roderick Jacobs and in no time at all, we have
ourselves a very profitable drug lab.  Everybody is making money
and everybody is happy.  Even Matthew, who as you well know, has
this thing about pain.  He liked his job, Sandburg. He liked it a
lot.  I just stood back and let him do it and he stood back and
let me handle the business end.  We were set, we thought, for
life until you show up.  I knew you were trouble.  The cops were
just too interested in you.  But Matt, he said he could handle
it.  No problem.  And Ruth, man, she wanted you bad!  Isaac, he
just figured one more body for God, one less for Satan and told
Matt to do whatever he had to do to convert you.  What we did not
count on was the good doctor.  Man, what a looker, too.  What's
her real name again?"  He seemed to be waiting for an answer.

Blair only glared at him.

"Don't matter.  I always kinda wondered about her, too.  I
figured she might be a deprogrammer but what the hell, it didn't
interfere with my business.  Let her take the zombies away. 
Matt, was clueless, I think.  Otherwise, he woulda hurt the lady
just for fun and principle.  So I kept my mouth shut.  I'm a
pretty nice guy, huh?  Hell, I'm all off the subject.  Let's get
back to you, shall we?  You see, the thing is that you and your
little investigation cost me a lot of money, a lot of time, and a
lot of aggravation.  Jacobs is pissed and worried.  He is
reluctant to do business with me now.  Your fault, dude." 
Covington pointed at Blair.  "So, it's payback time.  You're
gonna die, Blair.  Don't worry about it though.  It'll be nice. 
We'll do it all ceremonial and everything.  After all, your death
will please *God* and will give you the opportunity to atone for
what you did to *God's messengers*.  That's the story, anyway. 
But you and me, we'll know the truth.  You're gonna die, Blair,
because you pissed me off and I was the wrong guy to piss off. 
Now, if you will excuse me, I have a sacrifice to plan.  It's
gotta be done right, you know."  Covington strode to the door. 
"Be back later."

Blair watched him go and heard the door lock on the other side. 
He looked around himself.  No particular reason, nothing in the
room had changed since the first time he saw it.  His head hurt. 
His mind went back to the first meeting with Dyer.  Dyer was a
first class idiot.  Wyn had said that at best Covington was an
unknown.  "Yeah, Wyn, and at worst, he's the Antichrist." he said
aloud.

_________________________________________________

*And Simon was worried that I couldn't be calm,* Jim thought
solemnly, as he watched Brendon MacDonald try to calm his irate
sister.  Branwyn MacDonald was not a happy woman.  Jim stooped to
pick up the book she had thrown across her office as Brendon
tried to pry her car keys out of her hand.  

"You are not going to Dyer's office and that's final!  Now give
me the damn keys!"

"I told that son of a bitch!  I sat right there and told him it
was an act, did I not?"

"Yes, you did but you can't go over there and beat the man
senseless."

"Of course, I can't!  He's already senseless.  I just want to
beat some sense into him!"

Jim snickered at that in spite of their situation and realized
that it was a mistake.  It drew the woman's attention to him.

"What the hell are you laughing about, Ellison?  Why haven't you
kicked that idiot's ass already?"

"Because our focus should be to find Blair," Jim stated simply.

Stillness seemed to grip the auburn haired whirlwind and hold her
in place.  Her struggles ceased and her protests silenced.  Then
she drew herself up and shook her proud head as if clearing it. 
Brendon released her hands.  She took a deep breath and sat down
quietly and carefully at her desk.  "Where do we start?"

"I was hoping you two could help with that.  Can you think of
anywhere at all that any of the cult members might gather?  Any
property the Morrisons owned other than the camp and the house?"

Brendon was shaking his head while Wyn looked over her shoulder
and out of her office window, deep in thought.  "Bren, anything?"
Wyn asked her brother.

"Not in Washington.  There was a camp in California for a while
but the two were combined a long time ago, even before my time
there.  I just remember hearing people talk about it.  Isaac
didn't like to spend the extra money to keep both open.  The cult
was still relatively new back then and they hadn't made their
fortunes yet.  I think they sold the property.  Of course, Isaac
and Ruth have homes everywhere but nothing the cult would know
about."

"What about Covington?  There is a chance that he's alone in
this," Jim inquired.

"Jim, we just don't know that much about Covington.  He was after
my time." Brendon shrugged.

"And I never had that much contact with him.  He was not a social
butterfly."  Wyn added.


"Keep thinking." Jim sighed.

"You don't have a clue, do you?" Wyn asked.

"You certainly have a way of cutting to the chase, don't you?" 

"Sorry, Jim."

"It's okay.  You're right, though.  We have absolutely nothing to
go on. So anything you can come up with will be more than we've
got."

"Just one problem.  What if there's nothing for us to come up
with?"

The silence in the room was deafening.
____________________________________________________

The door opened and Amy entered with a small tray.  "I thought
you might be hungry," she said stiffly.  "Joshua said I could
give you something."

"Thank you."  Blair watched the woman place the tray carefully on
the foot of the cot.  She straightened and began to turn to
leave.  "Amy, will you help me?"

"Brother Blair, that's what we are doing."  She did not face him.

"Brother Joshua is going to kill me."  He reached out and took
her hand.

She whirled on him, fury on her face.  "Liar!  Joshua is trying
to save your soul!  How dare you lie about him that way."

"I'm not lying, Amy!  He told me!  He told me that he was going
to kill me!  Please, Amy, you have to believe me."

"Maybe you deserve to die for what you've done," she snapped, ice
in her tone.

Blair released her hand in shock.  "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Eat, Brother Blair.  I'll come back for the tray later."  She
left the room, slamming the door.

_____________________________________________________

Jim grimaced in distaste at the task ahead of him.  He watched as
the woman known to Blair as Mother Ruth was led into the
visitation room.  He was desperate.  Wyn and Brendon had not come
up with anything and Simon had not had any luck at the
registrar's office.  Jim had absolutely no desire to ever have to
speak with either of the Morrisons but he found he had no
choice.  He chose to speak with Ruth Ann Morrison first, feeling
she would be the most easily persuaded.  After all, she had
actually tried to cut a deal with the DA pointing the finger at
her brother for the drug lab. In exchange, she wanted immunity on
the lab and a reduction of the kidnapping and assault charges to
unlawful imprisonment for what she and Matthew Fitzpatrick did to
Blair.  After the Covington fiasco, though, the DA was not
dealing with the Morrisons anymore.  He had even given up on
Jacobs to get the Morrisons and he was not letting go.  For that,
Jim knew he had Judith Mills to thank.  The woman was a first
class bitch but she was a first class bitch with power and
influence.  She was going to make very certain that the Morrisons
paid for what they did to her nephew.  *Or rather her family
reputation.* Jim thought sourly.  That was the woman's main
concern.  The main concern of the woman who sat haughtily in the
chair across the table and behind the glass was getting off and
out of jail.  Jim knew that.  He also knew that he really could
not offer her that.  He would not even if he could.  He wondered
if she had any humanity to appeal to.  He hoped so because that
could be Blair's only hope. He cleared his throat and began. 
"Ms. Morrison, I need some information from you."

"What do I get out of it, if I give it?" the woman sneered.

"The right to call yourself human," Jim returned without
inflection.

She laughed, a hard and cackling sound and Jim felt the hair on
the back of his neck stand on end.  "No one is human in here,
Detective.  You know that.  They took my clothes, my makeup, my
things and locked me in a cage.  I'm an animal in a zoo.  As a
matter of fact, most zoo animals have it better than me.  I'm in
a poorly funded zoo.  If you can't get me out of here, then I
have nothing to say to you."

"Ms. Morrison, the only other thing I can offer you is
retribution.  You know that Glen Covington skipped out, right? 
Leaving you and your brother and Matthew Fitzpatrick to take the
rap."

"Yeah, I figured he would," Morrison slumped in the chair a
little, trying to appear uninterested.  "I knew he wouldn't
testify.  The little bastard is probably out there setting up
another lab with Jacobs.  You know the lab was his idea from the
start, don't you?"

"No, I didn't.  Why didn't you tell that to ADA Dyer?"

"We did, but he wasn't listening.  Covington sang first and he
liked his song better than ours, I suppose."

"Well, I want to find Covington.  I want to take him down and put
him on trial right next to you and the others."

The woman smiled without warmth.  "And you think that I'll help
you find him?"

"I was hoping it would be enough to persuade you to tell me where
he might be hiding."

"Detective, I know why you want Glen Covington.  Dyer told me
that he took Blair Sandburg.  I tell you this because I think you
should know that as much as I would like to see Covington suffer
along with me, I think I prefer to hope that maybe he's out there
making your little friend suffer even more.  I hope he kills
Blair Sandburg and then I hope he goes back for Branwyn
MacDonald."

Jim felt the burn of his rage rise from the pit of his stomach to
lodge itself right behind his eyes.  The woman rose and strode
languidly back to the guard by the door.  Jim could only watch
her go because he knew that if he moved at all, it would be to
try and get a grip around the woman's throat and choke the life
out of her.

____________________________________________________

Amy opened the door to Blair's small prison for the second time
in so many hours.  She avoided looking at Blair but that was fine
with him because his attention was on the door that she had not
closed behind her.  As she reached for the tray, Blair bolted
from the cot.  He was outside the door before she had a chance to
scream out a warning.  He saw a glimpse of outside when a
door was opened to his right before the door way was filled with
a man's body, apparently coming to answer Amy's scream.  Blair
did not take the time to consider options, consequences, even
injuries.  He barreled past the man, knocking him down.  He ran,
not knowing where he was running to, only hoping that Covington
could not or would not kill him outright and in the open.  He was
being chased, he knew, but he did not turn to see how many or how
close.  His field of vision narrowed to the ground beneath his
feet and the stand of trees just beyond a broken down fence. 
*Just a little farther.  I can hide in the trees.  Just a little
farther.*  He was not sure if his thoughts were a prayer to some
god or encouragement to his aching head and burning lungs.  None
of the gods were listening, however.  He would wonder later why
he never heard the dirt bike coming up behind him.  The only
thing he would remember was the searing pain that shot across his
shoulders as Covington rode him down on the bike using a baseball
bat to take him down.  He was also never sure how long he was
unconscious from the blow.  He only knew that it was dark when
he woke next.

"I was aiming for your stupid hard head," came the snide remark
not long after Blair manage to open his eyes.

He turned to face the voice.  The movement caused pain and he
moaned.  He saw Covington sitting in the corner of the room in a
folding chair.

"Lucky for you, I was a little low.  Does it hurt?"

He got no answer as Blair decided to simply ignore the man in
the hopes that he would go away.  He did not.  Blair did not see
the man move but suddenly he was there beside the cot, his hand
grasping the front of Blair's shirt and pulling him up from the
thin mattress.  Pain radiated through Blair's body beginning in
his shoulders and spreading both up and down until every hair on
his head and every toe on his feet felt it.  He lost his breath
and gulped for air.

"I asked you, does it hurt?"

"Yes," he gasped.

"If I have to ask twice, it doesn't hurt bad enough.  Get up." 
Covington dragged him off the cot and slammed his back into the
wall closest to them.  Darkness threatened to engulf him but a
hard palm across his face pushed it away.  "This is really
Matthew's thing but since thanks to you, he ain't here, I'll have
to do it myself.  You will learn to be a good boy, Blair or you
will wish you had before I have these zombies finally kill you."

_________________________________________________

Jim did not bother to go back to the station after talking with
Isaac Morrison.  The man was not any more forthcoming than his
sister with information on Covington, the cult or Blair.  Of
course, his reasoning was different.  He could not help Satan
find God's loyal followers and "Brother Joshua" had not abandoned
them.  He was planning for their release so that the work of God
would go on.  However, even if the man's reasons were not
personal, the result was still the same.  Blair was still in
trouble and Jim did not even know where to start looking for him. 
He had not even bothered trying to talk to Fitzpatrick.  The man
was a monster.  He would never forget the day of the arraignment
when Fitzpatrick had caught sight of Blair.  The look on his face
was one of pure evil.  Jim had heard Blair's breath catch in his
throat, his heartrate jump, and felt the shiver run through his
body.  Fitzpatrick might be the only one the DA would consider a
deal with but the man showed no interest in a deal and Jim was
determined that no deals would be made with the devil.  He'd made
a promise to Blair and he intended to keep it.  He entered the
empty loft, with Blair's abandoned backpack slung on one
shoulder.  He put it down by the door and stepped away from it. 
He stared at it, trying to use it to convince himself, if only
for a moment, Blair was there with him.  It did not work and he
sighed.  He crossed to the couch and picked up the remote control
to the television.  A press of a button and the oppressive
silence of the loft was gone but it was not the *right* kind of
noises and sounds that reached his ears and soon it was grating
on his nerves.  He switched off the annoying thing just as the
phone rang.  He crossed the floor and picked up the receiver on
the third ring.  "Ellison."

"Did you find out anything, Jim."  It was Simon.

"No.  You?"

"No.  Damn it, Jim, hang in there.  We're bound to get a break
soon."

"When, Simon?  After they've destroyed him again, if we're lucky. 
In time to find his body, cold and long dead, if we're not? 
Jesus, Simon!  I can't lose that kid now."

Stunned silence was all that came from the other end of the phone
line.

"I'm sorry, Simon.  I don't need to lay this stuff on you."

"You should call Dr. MacDonald."

"Simon, she's not in much better shape than me.  Brendon had to
restrain her in her office.  She was going to find Dyer and beat
the hell out of him.  Now, I know she's a little woman but, I'll
be damned if I don't think, she could do it.  And probably would
have if Brendon and I hadn't stopped her."

"Then call the other Dr. MacDonald."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Jim, we will find him.  Alive."  Simon amended quickly.

"As long as he's alive, the rest can be dealt with," Jim said,
exhaustion creeping into his voice.

"That's right.  Now, try to get some sleep."

"Yes, sir."

Jim did not mean to lie to his captain and friend.  He tried but
sleep eluded him like a slippery criminal and he watched the dawn
break with thoughts of Blair dancing across his mind, just behind
his tired, bloodshot eyes.  If he concentrated just so, he could
bring forth Blair's image and superimpose it onto the pink and
yellow horizon.  "Damn, Chief, where are you?" he asked the
waking sun.

___________________________________________________

Blair fought to catch his breath.  He had made a terrible mistake
and it had brought him gasping out of his light sleep.  "Don't
move, idiot," he berated himself.  As long as he did not move,
the pain was tolerable.  Movement shot hot and cold tendrils of
pain through his battered body.  He was pretty sure every rib he
had was either bruised, cracked or just plain broken.  Covington
had concentrated his blows to Blair's chest and abdomen.  Blair
could no longer tell one bruise from another as they seemed to
flow into one another like some bizarre puzzle coming together. 
Blair did not like the picture.  It was ugly and most of all,
painful.  Covington's strange idea of courtesy even led him to
explain the placement of his blows.  The zombies, as Covington
called them, got upset about his anti-escape measure.  They felt
it was too savage.  Therefore, the evidence of Blair's *lesson*
would have to be hidden so that the zombies would not be unhappy,
Covington had told him even as he continued to pummel Blair. 
Blair lay in the darkened room and tried desperately not to move,
even though his shoulders ached for him to relieve the weight
from them and turn on his side or stomach.  He knew better.  So
he waited patiently for his mind to once again silence his body's
protests with sleep.  While he waited, he prayed.  Not to any
god.  To his Sentinel.

__________________________________________________

Jim's heart skipped a beat and he hurried his steps as he caught
sight of the woman sitting on his desk.  "Wyn, did you remember
something?" he asked.

"No, I was hoping you had gotten something."

Jim's hopes fell as quickly as they had risen.  "No, afraid not."

"You didn't get any sleep either, huh?"

"How did--"

"Jim, your eyes look like a road map."

"Well, you look okay."

"Visine and the wonder of modern cosmetics.  My patients are not
reassured when their therapist looks like bloody hell."

"Suppose not," Jim remarked, absently, while looking around the
squadroom and sniffing the air.

"What is it?"

"Somebody must have gotten flowers this morning." Jim's voice
trailed off as he spoke.

"I don't see any.  Is this important right now?"  She did not get
an answer.  She cleared her throat and looked at the man closely. 
He was not moving and his eyes seemed to glaze over.  "Jim?  Yo,
Jim?"  Her brow wrinkled and she tilted her head in curiosity. 
"Hey, Ellison, you in there?"  She waved her hand in front of his
face.  "Oh, my, this is a problem." she whispered when she got no
response.

Captain Banks appeared almost magically, taking Ellison by the
shoulders and shaking him slightly.  "Jim, snap out of it," the
captain said softly but with a hint of panic.  "Jim, don't do
this now, you hear me!"

"Simon?"  The glaze faded and life returned to Jim's eyes. 
"Sorry, there's a strange smell in here."

"You said something about flowers," Wyn offered and Jim jumped a
little at the sound of her voice.  He had forgotten that she was
there.

"Yeah, roses and jasmine, something else, too, that I can't
identify."

Wyn's eyebrows raised and she lifted her hand to her neck, self
consciously.  "Maybe sunflowers?"

"Yeah, that's it, sunflowers."

She blinked and cocked her head to the side again.  "The
sunflowers I can understand, maybe.  That would be both my
shampoo and my perfume.  But the roses would be my bubble bath
and the jasmine, my shower gel.  And Jim, I don't think I have to
tell you this but you shouldn't be able to smell all of that."

Jim looked to Simon to find Simon staring at the lady
psychologist, with a look of unmitigated horror on his face.  Jim
turned back to Wyn and opened his mouth but no sound came out. 
He was about to tell the woman that there was a perfectly logical
explanation but he thought better of that.  He knew his
therapist.  The woman would ask for said logical explanation and
he had not come up with it yet.  He did not have to.

She held up both her hands and ducked her head.  "Got it.  Don't
say a word.  Two and two have just made four and I don't need any
more math lessons, thank you."

"Wyn, this is..."  Jim did not really know what he had been
planning to say so the sentence was aborted in mid-delivery.

"Weird, is what it is.  But I can tell you that I read Blair's
master's thesis and I saw what just happened here.  I know now
what your need for Blair is and that this is a well-kept secret."

"Until now."  Simon grumbled.

"Until such time you no longer need it to be.  Doctor-patient
confidentiality.  As far as I'm concerned, I heard about this in
my office.  You may need to tell Brendon for Blair's sake. 
Bren's got questions that he'd like answers to but I'm
even going to let you decide that.  In the meantime, gentlemen,
I'm outta here.  Brendon is waiting for me at the office.  We're
going to see some former clients and ask some questions in the
hopes of finding something we can give you."

Jim exhaled the breath he had been holding and nodded.  "That
sounds like a good idea, but this is a police matter.  Just give
me a list--"

"Get a clue, Jim.  Remember, doctor-patient confidentiality? 
Other folks get it, too.  Besides, if you think any of these
people are going to talk to you then you are out of your mind. 
This is better handled by Brendon and me.  I'll call the minute
we have anything."

"She's right, Jim," Simon told his detective.

"Fine."  Jim reluctantly watched the woman turn to leave.  "The
very minute you have anything!" he called after her.

"Not a problem."

"Yeah, right."  Jim felt Simon's eyes on him.  "Sir?"

"You think this little breach of security is kosher?"

"Yes, sir.  Besides, what good would worrying do now?  We didn't
tell her.  She figured it out.  I was afraid of that.  She was
too sharp not to know something was up.  I trusted her with
Blair's life before.  Now, I've got to trust her with mine. 
Hell, Simon, I feel better trusting her with me than I did
trusting her with Blair.  Is that strange?"

"If you had asked me that three years ago, I would have said
yes."  Simon walked away.

__________________________________________________

"Not having a good morning, Blair?"

Covington's voice grated on Blair's frayed nerves and he bit back
a sharp retort that would have been sure to bring him more pain. 
Instead he answered as Covington had instructed him to the night
before in the midst of the beating he had received.  "Good
morning, Brother Joshua."

"The words were right but the tone needs works.  Oh well, I'll
let it slide this time.  The way I figure it, you didn't get much
sleep last night and that can make anyone a little grumpy. 
Anyway, I had the zombies make you something to eat."  

Blair watched the man drop the tray he carried on the floor and
shove it with his foot toward the cot where Blair lay.  Blair
took a few swallow breaths to steel himself against the pain
movement would cause and sat up slowly and carefully.  

"What do you say, Blair?"

"Thank you, Brother Joshua."

"Very good boy!  Oh, don't worry.  This isn't your last meal or
anything.  I still have to convince the zombies that you have to
die in order to make God happy.  Maybe, I could convince them
that you're better off dead.  I'm sure you're going to feel that
way in a little while."  Covington was laughing as he left the
room.

Blair tried not to worry about what Covington meant by that last
comment.  He heard the lock on the door slide into place and
sighed.  He looked at the tray on the floor near his feet and
tried to determine the best way to get to it with a minimum of
pain. It was work and it was painful but by sliding off the cot,
keeping his torso straight and his knees bent, he got hold of the
tray with one hand while the other remained on the cot for
balance.  He placed the tray on the cot and then used both hands
to rise up just enough to slide back onto the cot.  He was
exhausted and gasping with pain by the time he was securely back
in his original position.  He picked up the plain toast and
nibbled at it, while stirring the oatmeal absently.  *I hate
oatmeal,* he thought bitterly and threw a disgusted look at the
door, which opened just as he did and he jumped a little in
surprise.  Covington was back.  

"Forgot your milk, dude.  Sorry 'bout that."  The man held out a
glass of milk to Blair who took it carefully to avoid touching
the hand.  Blair watched the man the whole time, suspicion in his
eyes.  Then Covington was gone, the door closed and locked, and
Blair sat holding the milk.  He was thirsty.  He looked at the
cool glass in his hand and raised it to his lips.

Minutes later, as Blair finished his breakfast, he wondered why
the room seemed so bright.  He blinked then watched as the wall
in front of him seemed to come to life with swirls of color and
light.  Blair raised his hand to rub his eyes and was amazed at
the whirling technicolor display the movement brought.  He stared
at the foreign object that had once been his hand.  A part of his
mind registered the truth of the situation.  He had been drugged. 
The rest of his mind was reeling, confused, terrified and amazed
all at once.  Then the shadows formed and rose up from the floor. 
Not shadows at all, fire, golden fire.  A scream hurt his ears
and he covered them with his hands but it didn't stop the noise. 
It seemed to be coming from within his head.  He scrambled back
on the cot until he hit the wall, the desire to avoid pain
becoming secondary to the desire to escape from the nightmare he
thought was over and gone.

____________________________________________________

Glen Covington heard the scream of his captive and smiled. 
"Showtime."  he whispered as he turned to face the startled
Children of the Saviors that were close enough to hear the ear-
splitting sound.  He was rushed by them and he raised his hands
to try to calm them.  Questions were silenced by the gesture.  He
shook his head sadly.  *The consummate actor,* he told himself
with pride.  "I told you he was possessed.  We've done everything
we could but Satan won't let Brother Blair go.  Maybe it's time
we let go and let God take Brother Blair."

"What are you saying, Brother Joshua?" Amy asked him.

"It came to me in a dream.  God came to me and told me that if we
made a sacrifice of Brother Blair then God would be able to take
his soul from Satan.  Brother Blair could then atone for his sins
and be with God."

"You mean kill him?"  Amy was startled and shaken.

"I'm afraid it may be the only way to save him."

The assembled group began to whisper frantically, uncomfortable
with the idea presented to them.

"He said you would kill him," Amy said.

"Sister Amy, Satan is controlling Brother Blair.  Satan will do
anything to hold on to him.  You know that.  Satan knows that we
have the knowledge and the ability to take Blair from him."  He
watched the girl's face.  She was not convinced.  "Come with me,
Sister Amy.  See for yourself Brother Blair's state and you'll
see that he's suffering."  He took her hand and led her to the
door of Blair's prison.  Covington knew she could hear the
whimpers and sobs coming from the room.  He slid the lock off and
opened the door slowly.  Amy peeked in and he pushed her forward.

"No!  Leave me alone!  Go away!  I didn't do anything to you!"
the prisoner screamed.

Amy gasped.  "Brother Blair?"  She took a step forward and
Covington had to hide his smile as Blair Sandburg reacted
violently, standing and gesturing, moving quickly off the cot and
into far corner to escape the approaching woman.  She retreated
back into Covington's arms as the captive crouched down heedless
of his injuries.

"I didn't do that.  It's not my fault.  I'm sorry." Sandburg
whispered.

Amy whirled and exited the room.  Covington followed.  "I warned
you."

"Is there nothing we can do?"

"I've already told you what we have to do, Sister Amy.  We have
to end Blair's suffering and let God take care of him."


The little blond nodded.  "I guess you're right."

"Good.  Now, we just have to convince the others.  You saw him,
Sister.  Talk to the others, tell them."

"I will, Brother Joshua."

"Good girl."  Covington watched the girl turn to leave.  "And
Sister, you care for Blair, I can see that.  He should be set
free by someone who cares for him.  I think he'd like it if you
were to be the one who sent him to God's arms."

"I'm not sure I could--"

"Sister, would you have him continue as he is?"

"No." she stated quickly and firmly.

"Then can Blair count on you?"

"Yes, Brother Joshua."

"Tomorrow morning then?"

"Yes, Brother Joshua."

"And Amy?  Tell the group going into the city today to be careful
and not to forget to pick up my supplies."

"Yes, Brother Joshua."  

He chuckled to himself as she walked away.  "Yes, Brother
Joshua," he mocked.  "Zombies."

_____________________________________________________

"Jim, I just got off the phone with Bauer.  Matthew Fitzpatrick
wants to talk to you," Simon told the detective as he approached
Jim's desk.  

"Why?"

"I don't know, Jim, but at this point, does it matter?  We have
nothing else.  You may as well talk to the guy and see if he says
something useful."

"He is not getting off, Simon.  I promised Blair.  Bauer can not
let the guy walk."

"Bauer didn't say anything about a deal.  He just said that
Fitzpatrick wanted to talk to you."

"If they let him out, Simon, they'll never find the body."


"Jim, don't say anything that I might be called to testify
about."  Simon held up his hands in entreaty.  "You're not
listening.  Bauer said nothing about a deal.  Go and see if the
guy wants to help us out.  He may just be mad enough to give up
Covington."

Jim stood and grabbed his jacket.  "Fine.  You're right.  It
can't hurt.  Though I doubt it's going to help."  He walked past
his captain and out of the bullpen.  

Not long after, he reached the lockup where Fitzpatrick was being
held, having not remembered the trip at all, lost in his thoughts
as he was.  He had been there in the very same place the day
before trying to get information from Isaac Morrison.  He was
directed to the very same chair to wait for the monster who had a
starring role in Blair's newest round of nightmares.  When the
guard led the man in, he looked much the same as he had in the
courtroom at the arraignment, evil and cold.  He sat down across
from Jim and assumed a casual posture.  Immediately, Jim knew he
was wasting his time.  He was tempted to leave but stayed just in
case Fitzpatrick let something slip accidently.

"Hello, Detective Ellison."

"What do you want, Fitzpatrick?"

"I want to tell you a few things before you send me to prison. 
Oh but, wait!  Your main witness is missing.  My lawyer says we
may have a chance now.  He's an optimistic guy.  Enough about me,
though.  I thought you might like to know the whole story and I
wanted to tell it to someone who could appreciate the irony. 
See, the drug lab?  That was Glen's baby there, detective.  You
guys cut loose the mastermind and kept the sidekicks.  It was so
easy!  I went along 'cause I like money and I liked my little
role in the scheme of things.  We met up with the Morrisons just
like everybody else in there did but Glen was planning even
before we got to the camp.  He said that it would be a perfect
cover for a drug operation.  Because the cult could be protected
from the cops by calling up that freedom of religion thing.  So
we decided that we'd get in close with the *Saviors* and convince
them of all the good they could do with the money.  I talked Glen
into calling himself Joshua because it's biblical and all and
then maybe we could just sweep in there like messengers from God
and take the place over.  Little did we know that Ruth was
already making use of the place for her own reasons.  Isaac is
just nuts, man, so he wasn't hard to convince.  So Glen, he knew
people and he set up that little lab while I got to deal with the
troublemakers.  I've always been fascinated by the human reaction
to pain, detective.  I like watching the face of my victim when
I'm the cause of his excruciating pain.  I particularly enjoy the
effects of electricity on a person.  I enjoy the way the body
spasms when electricity shoots through it.  I like to watch them
cry.  I like to watch them bleed.  I like breaking them until
they'll do anything to stop the pain.  I liked-, no, I loved
doing that to sweet little Blair."  

The smile was what did it.  Jim vaguely heard his chair hit the
wall behind him as he launched himself over the table and it's
low glass partition.  His hands entangled themselves in the
issued coveralls Fitzpatrick was wearing.  He felt Fitzpatrick's
head and back connect with the wall.  Then he felt the hands
gripping him, pulling him off the abomination that was Matthew
Fitzpatrick.  "You better hope you get a long sentence,
Fitzpatrick because I gonna need a lot of time to talk myself out
of killing you!  And if you ever get near Blair again, nothing
and nobody is going to be able to save you!  Do you hear me!" 
Jim fought the arms and hands holding him.

"You guys are my witnesses.  He threatened me."  Fitzpatrick said
smugly to the guards holding the angry police detective.  

"I didn't hear a thing, did you, Phil?"  one said to the other.

"Nope and I didn't see anything either."  was the answer.  "Come
on, Detective Ellison, let's get you out of here.  I think the
stench is getting to you."  the guard spoke soothingly to Jim.

Jim nodded shortly and let the man lead him out.  The other guard
stayed with Fitzpatrick.  Once outside, the guard, Phil, patted
Jim's back and left.  Jim leaned on the wall and composed
himself.  He was still no closer to finding Blair and he did not
look forward to telling Simon what happened inside that
interrogation room.  All and all, his day sucked, as Blair would
have put it.  That simple thought of Blair caused a pain in his
chest suspiciously near his heart and he kicked the wall before
making his way out of the building.

________________________________________________________

"Stop the car, Bren!"

"What?"  

"Stop the damn car!"  Wyn yelled at her brother, hitting him on
the arm.  

Brendon pulled the car to the side of the road and watched,
horrified, as his sister got out before the car came to a
complete stop.  He slammed the car into park and jumped out. 
She crossed three lanes of traffic.  He followed after her,
albeit more carefully.  He saw her approach a young woman who had
several books in her hands and he understood.  He moved
inconspicuously behind the girl.  

"Hello, Kathy.  How's business?"  His sister's voice was as cold
as he had ever heard it.  At the moment, she could rival him in
his deprogramming mode and take his coveted title of Satan.  It
frightened him.  It frightened the girl she called Kathy as well.
The girl backed up away from Wyn only to come into contact with
Brendon's chest.  "You're not going anywhere, Kathy.  Where is
Brother Joshua?  Where is Blair Sandburg?"

"Sister Sarah?"

"Oh, I'm not your sister, Kathy and my name is not Sarah.  But
you know that.  Where is Blair?"

"Where Satan can not touch him!" the girl snapped defiantly.

"So, he is with the cult.  Where would that be, Kathy?"

"I'm not going to tell you.  You can't do anything to me."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Kathy.  We could take you away from here
and give you to Satan."

"Wyn!" Brendon spoke up.

"What?" his sister snarled.

"Let's just take her to the police.  I bet they can link her to
Blair's kidnapping."

"Yeah, good point.  So, Kathy, were you there when Joshua took
Blair?  Did they find your fingerprints in Blair's office?  How
would you like to spend some time in a women's prison?  Now,
there's where you'll find Satan."

"I know my rights."

"You have no rights, as far as I'm concerned.  You have me
confused with the cops.  I don't give a damn about your rights. 
Let's go, Kathy.  We're going to see Detective Ellison and you
can tell him about your rights."  Wyn grabbed the woman by the
arm and dragged her into the street.  She snatched away from Wyn
but Brendon grabbed her around the waist and lifted her over his
shoulder.  She started to scream but Wyn pulled her hair.  "Stop
that screaming or I'll give you something to scream about.  I'm
making a citizen's arrest, Kathy.  If Jim can't tie you to
Blair's kidnapping, you are quite welcome to go back and vegetate
for the rest of your life.  But right now, not one damn sound,
you understand?"

"We are going to catch hell for this one, Wyn."  Brendon
whispered as he carried the girl to their car.

"Right now, I just could not manage to care any less about that. 
She is our only shot and I'm not letting them have Blair without
a fight."

___________________________________________________


"Jim!  Dr. MacDonald is on her way up with a suspect!"  Simon
shouted out as he came barreling out of his office to stop
abruptly by Jim's desk.

Jim stood and both men stared at the elevator doors in the
hallway outside the squadroom.  The elevator opened and Wyn
MacDonald stepped out dragging another woman by her hair. 
Brendon followed, silent and intimidating.  "What the hell?" Jim
whispered.

"Detective Ellison, this is Kathy.  I have reason to believe that
Kathy not only knows where Blair Sandburg is being held but was
an accomplice in his kidnapping.  I've made a citizen's arrest. 
Check her fingerprints against those you found in Blair's
office."  Wyn came to a rest in front of Jim and Simon.  The
young woman did not make a sound or struggle as Wyn pulled her up
and almost into Simon.  "I suppose you'd better read those pesky
Miranda rights to her first."

Simon motioned to two uniformed officers standing by in shock at
the spectacle.  The men moved forward and took the captive from
the fire-eyed psychologist and led her away, reading her rights
to her as they did.

"What the hell did you do, Wyn?" Jim asked his therapist.

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like you snatched the woman off the streets and dragged
her in here against her will."

"Well, there you go.  Now, you asked a stupid question, didn't
you?"

Simon groaned and Jim blinked at the tiny woman incredulously. 
"You let her do this?" he asked Brendon.

The elder MacDonald shrugged.  "Apparently, Jim, you have never
tried to stop my sister from doing what she is damn well intent
on doing.  In most cases, it is much safer to either help or get
the hell out of the way.  In this case, I helped.  You needed a
lead and we got you one."

"A thank you would be nice at this time." Wyn remarked.

"Let's see if we're all going to get sued first." Simon
responded.  

____________________________________________________

He heard the door open, but Blair was afraid to open his eyes. 
He could not be certain that the fire people were gone.  His body
protested its position but he dared not move either.  It caused
too much pain.  

"Feeling better?"  It was Covington.  "You should be by now.  I
can't believe you're still huddled up in that corner.  You have
got to be hurting.  You haven't said hello to me, Brother Blair."

"Hello, Brother Joshua." Blair whispered, voice hoarse and throat
sore.

"That's better.  I really have to commend you on the show you put
on.  Wow, man, you couldn't have done better if I had given you a
script.  You got some serious demons, don't cha?  The zombies are
convinced now, let me tell you.  They're ready to show you the
great mercy of ending your miserable existence, dude.  What you
think of that?"

"You drugged me.  What was that?"

"LSD, Blair.  Old-fashioned, sure, but it works.  You must be
hungry.  You missed lunch.  None of the zombies wanted to come in
here with you screaming like the devil was after you.  Wait,
that's right, he is! I could get you something."

"I'll starve first."

"Nah, not possible.  Want to know why?  Come on, let me tell you
why.  Okay, I'm just going to say it.  You die tomorrow, Blair. 
First thing in the morning.  You don't have time to starve."

"You are sick, you know that?"

"Uh-uh, Blair, now be nice.  Remember, I play nice as long as you
play nice.  Don't make me hurt you again."

"Just go away and give me a little peace."

"Say please."

"PLEASE!" Blair's voice cracked.

"See you bright and early tomorrow morning, Blair."

"See you in hell."

___________________________________________________

"Her fingerprints match some we lifted from Blair's office,"
Cassie Wells announced as she entered the bullpen.

"Yes, I knew it." Wyn said calmly.  

"Let's go talk to Ms. Kathy Davis."  Simon led the way.  Jim and
Wyn followed the big man to the interrogation room where Kathy
sat under guard.  


"Where's your brother?" Cassie asked Wyn, tagging along behind
the psychologist.

"He had to go to the office.  He had an appointment."

"Cassie, we'll take it from here.  Thanks."  Simon told the
woman, blocking her from entering the room.

"Oh, okay.  Sure."

"And Ms. Wells?"

"Yes, Dr. MacDonald?"

"Just get your mind off my brother.  Got it?"

Cassie snorted indignantly and turned on her heel to leave.  Jim
and Simon both repressed smiles.

"That was not kind," Jim half-heartedly scolded.

"She bugs me.  I can't help it."  Wyn explained as she pulled out
a chair and sat down at the table across from the woman she had
unceremoniously dragged into the station a few hours earlier. 
"And you bug me." Wyn snapped at Kathy Davis.

"Wyn, let me, okay?" Jim touched her shoulder.

"Hey, go for it.  Be my guest."

"Ms. Davis, we know that you participated in the kidnapping of 
Blair Sandburg.  Now, where is he being held?"

"Only Mother and Father love me.  Only Mother and Father can save
me..."

"Oh, Jim, you're doing so well so far."  Wyn remarked.

____________________________________________________

Four hours later, the sun had gone down and Jim's good cop
routine had gone with it.  It was nearing nine o'clock when Simon
and Wyn dragged a enraged Jim out of the interrogation room. 
Davis's public defender was stunned and Davis still chanted as
Simon reentered the room without Jim.  Wyn pulled Jim down the
hallway.  "Well, that was fun." Wyn sighed.

Jim leaned on the wall behind and tried to calm his ragged
breathing.  "I have never wanted to hit a woman before but--"

"I know.  You should have let me when I offered before the lawyer
got here."

Jim chuckled ruefully and gave the woman a half-smile.  "You are
one tough lady, Wyn MacDonald."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as one."

"Good.  That means I won't have to hit you.  Let's get some
coffee."

"We can't keep her in that room much longer."

"I know that, too.  The lawyer, public defender or not, is going
to start making noise soon."

"You think Brendon could get to her?"

"Under our circumstances, yes.  Under legal circumstances such as
these..." she shook her head.  "Too limited.  And she knows it. 
We made a mistake being her here.  We should have done this our
way but I promised you we'd come to you."

"Maybe we should let her go."

"Jim, she helped-- wait, I get it.  Let her go and she'll head
right back to the cult and Blair.  We follow her.  That's good,
Jim.  That's real good."

"There's just one problem with your vision of this plan."

"What's that?"

"Not *we*, Wyn.  This is a police matter."

"No, this is a personal matter.  It's a psychological matter as
well.  You don't know what you'll find when you find Blair.  You
may need us."

Jim paused, trying to come up with an argument.  Wyn knew the
moment he failed to find that argument and tried to keep the smug
expression off her face as he sighed, "Okay, you're right."

"Yes, I know I am."

"But stay back and out of the way."

"You've been working with Simon Banks too long.  You sound just
like him."

"No, I've been working with Blair too long and you're just like
him.  You never listen."

"I most certainly do, James Ellison.  How do you think you got in
that house when Appling had Blair?  Simon said stay out of the
way and let him handle it.  Therefore, it was not my problem when
you slipped away while he wasn't looking.  He was not very happy
about that."

"I can imagine."  The smile that spread across Jim's face was
real.

____________________________________________________

Simon and Jim rousted Kathy Davis before sunrise the next morning
and sent her on her way.  Jim followed discreetly in an unmarked
car.  The woman headed straight for the nearest pay phone. 
Forty-five minutes later, a van pulled up to the curb where she
waited.  When the van pulled away, so did Ellison. 

____________________________________________________

"Your friends picked up one of my zombies yesterday.  They had to
let her go though.  She's on her way back."  Covington told Blair
as he entered the room.  "Don't worry.  Your buddies won't be
able to follow her back.  Too open for a tail not to be noticed
and my driver knows not to come back here if there's a tail. 
Nobody's gonna spoil our sacrifice.  We're almost ready.  Oh,
little Amy will be your executioner if you're wondering.  She
feels so sorry for you, being possessed by the devil and all. 
And when you are gone, I'll set about my work again.  I'll teach
the zombies to run my new lab and tell them it part of the plan
to save Mother and Father.  By the time they figure out that I
have no intention of saving those idiots, I'll be rich and living
in luxury on some tropical island.  Are you ready to die, Blair? 
Better get ready.  What cha want for your last meal?  Or are you
still not hungry?"

Blair struggled to raise his head and glare at the man.  He had
not moved from the position in the corner.  He did not think that
he could.  Somewhere in the night, Blair began to feel a little
strange.  He could not breathe deeply.  He was light-headed and
the pain was much worse.  Weakness had seeped into his body and
he was very cold.  "You better do this quick because something's
wrong with me.  I think I'm bleeding internally or something. 
I'd hate to die before you get to kill me."

"Dammit!"  Covington stormed over and grabbed Blair by the hair
and pulled him up from the floor by the long curls.  

Blair gasped and bit his lip to keep from crying out with the
pain of the sudden movement.  He leaned on the wall when
Covington released his hair and he managed to remain somewhat
upright as Covington pushed up his shirt and examined his bruised
and swollen abdomen.  

"Okay, okay.  So this means I light a fire under the zombies and
get on with the preparation.  We're running late as it is because
of that stupid little Kathy getting caught in town.  I told them
to be careful.  I wouldn't have let them go at all if I didn't
need the money to get the lab started again.  Thanks to you, you
little bastard.  Hey, one way or another, you're dead and I'm
happy but the zombies need to see this sacrifice, boy, so you
better stay alive."  Covington shoved Blair down on the cot and
walked out.

Blair lay perfectly still, gasping with pain.  Tears came to his
eyes and he sent out another prayer.  This time, he asked to die
quickly.

_____________________________________________________

Jim pulled into the dirt road he'd seen the van take.  Taking
advantage of his Sentinel sight, he had been able to stay far
enough back not to cause suspicion even on the open stretch of
road that led out of Cascade.  He called Simon again and advised
him of the turn.  Simon was about five minutes behind him with
Wyn, Brendon and backup.  He could no longer see the van as it
had driven off into the trees that almost hid the tiny dirt road
from sight, but he could hear it and he heard it stop.  He
estimated the distant while he quickly told Simon where he was. 
It was not far so he decided to proceed on foot, leaving the car
as a marker for Simon as well as a roadblock to escape.  His
ranger training kicked in and Jim crept through the trees.  He
listened as a squeaky gate was opened and the van moved through
it.  The gate was closed again.  The van moved again but not far. 
He heard voices greeting the people in the van.  He waited for
Simon just outside the gate, hidden in the trees.  

____________________________________________________

"Let's go, Blair.  It's time to meet your maker."  Covington
roughly pulled Blair from the same position which he had flung
him across the cot and pushed him toward the door.  The moment
Covington let go, however, Blair crumpled to the ground.  He
could hear Covington swear and then call for help.  Blair felt
the arms that grabbed his.  They raised him up and mostly dragged
him outside.  The thing that struck him most was the silence.  No
one was talking as he was moved to what he guessed would be a
central place in the camp for his execution.  There he felt his
arms raised and ropes encircle his wrists as he was tied upright
to a pole.  He slumped against it, not able to stand on his own. 
Then, for the first time, he opened his eyes.  They were all
there.  All the faces he remembered from Camp Brightsouls,
sitting on the ground in front of him, staring at him with rapt
curiosity.  He wondered if he said "boo" would they jump and run
away.  After all, he was possessed by the devil according to
them.  He almost laughed at his own thoughts but found that he
didn't have the energy.  He only sighed and waited for the end.  
He vaguely heard Covington begin a monologue of all the things
that Blair had done that proved that he was possessed and what
they had to do to save him.  Blair just wished he would shut up
and get on with it.

_______________________________________________

Outside the gate, Wyn and the others had just arrived when Jim
heard Covington begin to speak.  Holding up his hand for quiet,
Jim listened.  Simon began to silently deploy his men around the
gate.  One man came forward and cut the lock from the gate with a
small torch.  When Jim stood suddenly, Simon stood with him and
Wyn moved closer.  "We have to move Simon.  They're going to kill
him," Jim announced, even as he began to run through the opened
gate.  Simon swore under his breath and followed.  Shouting for
Wyn and Brendon to stay back.  The sister and brother looked at
one another.  Wyn knew her brother understood the look in her
eyes and he followed without a word when she made her way quickly
after Jim, Simon, and the other officers.

_____________________________________________________

"Brother Blair?" Amy whispered as she took her position in front
of Blair.  

"I told you he was going to kill me." Blair told the blond as
Covington pushed a large knife into the girl's hand.

"I'm not going to kill you, Blair.  Amy is.  Isn't that right,
Amy.  You're going to save Brother Blair's soul from Satan. 
Right?"

"Yes, Brother Joshua."  The bouncy blonde who had led Blair into
the welcome center was gone and the girl that stood before his
unfocused eyes looked haunted and tired.  She looked at the knife
in her hand and raised it slowly.

Covington's hand touched Blair's chest.  "Right here, Amy.  Aim
right here." he told her.

Amy nodded and raised the knife higher.  Blair did not bother to
look at it.  He looked at Amy and saw the first tear roll down
her cheek.

"It's not your fault, Amy.  I don't blame you."  Blair assured
her.

"Isn't that sweet.  Now, Amy.  Don't let Satan tempt you."

"Shut up, Covington.  Just shut up!" Blair snapped, knowing the
outburst would probably use the last bit of energy he had.  "Amy,
talk to me when I die.  Don't let him be the last thing I hear." 
Blair felt the tears rolling down his own face.  

Amy nodded at him and he saw the knife flash.  It took him
several seconds to realize that he was falling.  He heard
Covington scream in outrage and felt Amy's body cover his.  The
knife nowhere in sight.  The last thing he heard before he
slipped into darkness was Jim's voice.

_____________________________________________

Jim felt his heart drop as he saw the knife come down and he
almost stumbled.  He was already feeling the pain of Blair's loss
when he realized that the little blond had not stabbed Blair but
instead had cut him free of the pole he was tied to and flung her
own body over Blair's to protect him.  "Freeze, Cascade PD!" he
screamed as Covington reached for the girl and grabbed her by the
hair.  Covington flung the girl to the side and grabbed Blair by
the collar.  He hauled Jim's unconscious partner up and used him
as a shield, a gun appearing in his other hand.  The cult members
were screaming and running away from the maniacal man who had
been, just minutes before, their leader.  Jim moved slowly toward
Covington, knowing that Simon and the other officers were just
behind him.  

"Put the gun down, Covington!" Jim ordered.

"No way.  You put your gun down or I'll kill your little friend
here."  Covington tapped Blair on the head with the gun and Blair
stirred.  "Be still, damn you." Covington snarled.

Blair's eyes opened but Jim could see that they were not focused. 
He listened quickly to Blair's heartbeat and found it too slow
and weak.  "Okay.  Here's the deal.  I'll put my gun down if you
let the hostage go."

"Oh man, that's a good one!  The hostage!  Like I don't know who
I got here?  What about the rest of these cops?  They gonna go
for that?"

"No.  See the thing is, this is an exchange.  Me for him."

"Jim!" Simon snapped.

"Oops, he's not going for it already." Covington waved the gun in
Simon's direction.  "No deal.  Besides, it's him I want." 
Covington smacked the gun on Blair's head again.

"Simon, call an ambulance.  Blair's hurt somehow." Jim whispered
to his captain.

"Already on the way." Simon assured.  "I called just in case. 
After all, we are dealing with Sandburg."

"Just shoot him, Jim." came the weak voice to his Sentinel ears.

Jim looked sharply at his partner.  Jim shook his head. 
Covington had Blair lined up directly in front of him.  Only one
shoulder and his head were visible.  Jim could take him out but
he would rather not have to kill someone with a head shot with
Blair that close.  Poor Blair would have nightmares for months
after that.  He wanted explore other options first.

"I'm walking out of here, cop and unless you want his brains
splattered everywhere, you're going to let me."  Covington
announced.

Just then, a silver flash caught Jim's eye and he followed it as
it embedded itself in Covington's shoulder.  Covington screamed
and dropped both the gun and Blair, the knife that had been meant
to kill Blair protruding from his shoulder.  Jim retraced the
path the knife had taken and found Wyn MacDonald at the end of
it.  Both of them moved at the same time, Wyn toward Blair, Jim
toward Covington.  In the distance, he could hear the siren of
the ambulance.  He pulled the knife from Covington's arm and
quickly cuffed the protesting man.  "Shut up, there's an
ambulance on the way.  Until then, I intend to make sure you
don't go anywhere."  He watched Wyn scoop Blair up in her arms. 
She was making soft soothing sounds as she made a quick
examination of his limbs, then his head.  When she got to his
torso, he flinched and she raised his shirt carefully.  She
gasped and Jim grimaced at the sight of the bruises and swelling. 
Jim let another officer take charge of Covington and knelt beside
his partner and his therapist.

"I think he's bleeding internally, Jim."

Jim moved his hands carefully over Blair's abdomen.  "I think
you're right.  Take it easy, buddy.  Help's on the way."  He
touched his friend's forehead and smoothed his hair back.  He
looked up at Wyn.  "Lady, we have to talk."

"My father taught me.  He was a state champion seven years
running in Georgia."

"She's being modest.  When Dad retired, she was state champion
for five years running herself."  Brendon added as he came to
stand over his sister as though he anticipated having to protect
her from Jim.

"I see.  Wyn, you are really beginning to scare me."

The lady doctor smiled at that.  "Good."

_____________________________________________________

Epilogue

"You're late," Blair complained.

"Sorry!  Just out protecting the city like a good Sentinel."

Blair smiled and gingerly pulled on his jacket.  "Not without
your guide, you don't.  Anyway, I didn't mean to sound snippy. 
I'm just so ready to get out of this hospital, man."

"Today's your regular appointment day with Brendon.  Did you guys
reschedule?  I don't think you're up to much today.  I'm taking
you home to rest." 

"Uh, Jim,"  Blair bit his lip, his face an unspoken apology.

"What?"

"I've been released from therapy."

"Excuse me?  What the hell you mean, you've been released?  You
can't be released.  I have an appointment this afternoon.  If
you're released from therapy, then I should be released from
therapy.  What's the hell is going on here?  No way this is
happening, Chief."

"Jim, when I went in to talk to Brendon, that's what I did. 
Talk.  You go in and pace back and forth and clench your jaw so
tight Wyn can hear it pop."

"She tell you that?  What happened to doctor-patient
confidentiality!"

"She didn't have to tell me that, Jim.  I know you.  She did tell
though that she's keeping you in therapy long enough to pay for
the new carpet she's gonna have to put down after you're gone."

"She did not say that!"

"Yes, she did."  

"I'm going to have to have a talk with the good doctor." Jim
grumbled.

"Be careful, Jim.  She's a champion knife thrower."  Blair
laughed at his friend.

"Don't remind me."

Blair's smile faded.  "Hey, Jim?"

"Yeah, Chief?"

"Where's Covington?"

"In jail, Chief.  Where he belongs."

"And Amy?  She saved my life, Jim."

"I know, buddy.  I saw it.  Wyn and Brendon helped her get a
place to stay.  Her parents came up from L.A. and she's in
therapy with Brendon."

"Good."  A nurse entered the room with Blair's wheelchair for his
ride to the front door.


"I can't believe you're out of therapy and I'm not."

"Sorry.  Oh and Jim, hope you don't mind but I'm taking your
therapist to dinner Saturday night."

"Oh, no!  Just wait a damn minute!  I don't think I like that at
all!"  Jim grabbed Blair's arm as the younger man started to sit
down in the wheelchair.  

Blair laughed at the worried expression on Jim's face.  "Watch
it, Jim.  I still have stitches, you know."  He sat down
as Jim released him quickly.  The nurse rolled the wheelchair
toward the door and Jim followed behind.  Sentinel soft Blair
whispered, "You'd better be careful with me, Jim.  'Cause I'm
almost certain my girlfriend can beat you up."

Jim burst into laughter.  At Blair and at the young nurse who
probably spent the rest of her day wondering what was so funny.

Voila'