Disclaimer:  The characters of "The Sentinel" do not belong to
me.  I have only borrowed them for a short time and will return
them relatively intact.  This is all in fun and no harm or
infringement is intended.  The characters of Branwyn and Brendon
are mine as well as a few assorted nuts in the story.  

Thanks to Michelle for the challenge and all her encouragement
and help.  And thanks to Laura for all her help and her beta
reading.  You are both much appreciated.

 
                         "Saviors"

Danae 

Chapter 1

Detective James Ellison and his partner Blair Sandburg had
scarcely entered the bullpen when their captain's voice split
Jim's eardrums.  Even Blair flinched as Simon Banks bellowed out
their names from his office door.  

"Get in here," he shouted even as Blair's hand reached out to
touch Jim's shoulder in silent inquiry and concern.

"I'm fine," Jim whispered and waved his partner's concern away.

"Please," Banks then added, somewhat softer.  He walked back into
his office to wait as Jim and Blair looked to one another in
confusion.

"What did I do this time?" Blair spoke first, sighing and shoving
his hands in his pockets.

"Chief, you're paranoid.  Besides, he did say please."  Jim was
trying to joke.  Blair was unamused and made a mental note to
work harder on improving the Sentinel's sense of humor.  The pair
made their way to Simon's office.  Jim entered first with Blair
shuffling along behind, his head down, loose curls obscuring his
big blue eyes, awaiting his inevitable punishment while his mind
raced frantically for the possible cause.  Whatever it was, he
had to time the lost puppy look just right and just maybe he
would get out of this with his hide intact.

"Sit down."  Simon pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. 
"By the way, sorry, Jim."

"No problem, sir."

Simon nodded as he sat at his desk and raked his hand down his
face.  He took a deep breath and waited as Jim and Blair settled
themselves.  Blair was studying the floor with such intense
scrutiny that Simon was tempted to get to see what the kid was
looking at.  Then it came to him and he said impatiently, "You're
not in trouble, Sandburg."

Blair's head snapped up.  "I'm not?"

"Then again, is your conscience feeling a bit guilty?  Should you
be in trouble?"  Simon examined the young man skeptically.

"No!"  Blair exclaimed quickly.  "I mean, I was wondering though. 
I couldn't think of anything and--"

Simon cut him off.  "Enough, Sandburg." He held up his hand to
stop the flow of words.

"What's up, Simon? You seem a little tense."

"Oh, you think so, Ellison?" Simon snapped sarcastically then
rolled his eyes.  Jim could almost visualize Simon kicking
himself as he continued in a different tone.  "I'm sorry, again,"
he sighed.  "Not a good morning.  I just got off the phone with
former Councilwoman Judith Mills.  Do you remember her, Jim?"

"Yeah, mean little woman as I recall."

"You do recall.  Anyway, she told me that her nephew just
'escaped' from a religious cult called 'The Children of the
Saviors.'  She said escaped, but who knows.  I don't want to
know.  The nephew then proceeds to tell her that he was tortured
by cult members trying to indoctrinate him and that he thinks 
the cult is running a drug lab on their property.  *She* wants
this investigated immediately if not sooner."  He wrapped up his
explanation making a face and rolling his eyes once again.

"Evidence?" Jim asked calmly.

"None."

"Wait," Blair spoke up, "you said escaped but you don't sound
like you believe it."

"Probably liberated would be closer to the truth and quite
possibly against his will," Simon explained.

"You mean, deprogramming?  Kidnapping and deprogramming?" Blair
sat up in his chair.

"Yeah, Sandburg, so?"

"That's fascinating.  Do you know what an interesting paper that
would make?"  Blair was visibly excited.  Jim shook his head as
he watched the wheels turn behind his partner's eyes.

"Is he serious?"  Simon looked to Jim, his face a mask of
incredulity.

"Afraid so, Simon.  So what's the problem exactly?  With no
evidence and that pesky freedom of religion thing hanging over
us, there's nothing we can do."

"I tried that line of defense already.  I tried to explain to our
dear former Councilwoman Mills that we would be standing on very
shaky ground and could be subject to a lawsuit for violation of
first amendment rights if we made any move toward these people. 
I said to her, 'at least you have your nephew back.'"

"Didn't work?" Jim half-asked, half-observed.

"Of course not.  She wants them shut down.  I almost think this
drug lab thing is a smoke screen for her revenge."

"And if there is no drug lab?"

"God help us."

"Why are you even considering this then?" Jim asked.  "Where else
is this coming from?"

"In case you have forgotten, Ms. Mills is the current companion
of the state attorney and he is, as we speak, authorizing this
investigation."

"You have got to be kidding!"  Jim snapped.  "What is he thinking
about?"

"More like, what is he thinking with," Blair mumbled.

"Sandburg!" Simon boomed.

"What?  Well, it's true, right?"  

"That is completely beside the point, Sandburg."  Simon turned
back to Jim in time to see him suppress a smile and return his
facial features to a more serious pose.

"So, Simon, what now?"

"Well, with no evidence and very shaky if not entirely unreliable
probable cause, we aren't likely to get a search warrant. 
Therefore, we are going to have to send somebody in undercover. 
I'm looking for someone now.  What I want from you is a statement
from David Harper, the nephew.  Maybe he can give us something
more to go on and perhaps enough to get that warrant.  That means
facing Ms. Mills.  Sorry, Jim.  Blair, Harper is about your age,
maybe a little younger, so I'm hoping he'll open up to you.  You
seem to be able to get people to do that."

"Sure thing." Blair nodded.

"Who are you thinking about sending in?"  Jim asked.

"I don't know, Jim.  We need someone young but I can't send some
rookie into one of these cults.  I need someone experienced but
the cult is not going to take in someone older.  I have heard of
this group and they tend to recruit young.  I don't know." Banks
shook his head and once again raked his hand over his face from
forehead to chin, pausing at the chin for a moment before he
released a sigh and allowed the hand to fall into his lap.

"That's a problem," Jim stated.

"No, it's not.  I'll do it," Blair offered.

"What!"  Banks exclaimed even as Jim jumped up from his chair
with a resounding, "No!" escaping from his lips.

"Jim--"

"Blair, no.  That's it.  No way."  Ellison cut him off.

"Why not?  Look, Jim, man, I'm a scientist.  I've gone into
primitive cultures and hostile tribes and come out fine.  I'll
just approach this scientifically, like I'm entering a hostile
tribe to study them.  Like I said, this would make a great
research paper."

"You're insane!"  Jim cried out as he plopped back down into his
chair.

"Sandburg, this isn't quite the same thing.  Maybe you weren't
listening.  Harper says he was tortured to try to indoctrinate
him."  

Blair paused at that, a sharp intake of breath and a puzzled look
punctuating the pause then he spoke, standing and gesturing as he
did.  "From what I know, most cults do not resort to violence. 
Mostly, they use sleep deprivation and low protein diets to
weaken the body and the mind."

"Chief, do you hear what you are saying?  Do you really want to
expose yourself to that?  Do you really think I would let you if
you did?"  Jim asked, exasperation and impatience in his voice.

"Jim, I'll sneak in vitamins and as far as sleep, man, I don't
sleep now.  Between the university, and the station, and grading
papers, and testing you, when do I have time to sleep?  Hell,
Jim, I might get more sleep inside the cult."

Guilt chased the anger and impatience from Ellison's eyes. 
"Blair..."

"Oh, man," Blair, recognizing the look on his friend's face, hit
the side of his own head with the palm of his hand, "I'm sorry. 
I didn't mean that the way it sounded."  He sat back down.

Jim and Blair sighed in unison as Simon shook his head.  It was
Simon who broke the uneasy silence.

"He is the right age," he almost whispered.

"What?" Jim hoped that his Sentinel hearing was deceiving him.

"Ellison..." Banks voice trailed off.  "Oh, hell, never mind.
You're right, Jim.  It's a bad idea."

Blair looked disgusted.  Jim was relieved.

"Thanks, guys," Blair remarked, sarcastically.  He got up and
started for the door. 

 Ellison rushed to cut him off.  "Blair, I know that you want to
help but there is no way I'm going to allow you to put yourself
in such a potentially dangerous situation."

"Allow me?  Let's get something straight, okay Jim.  I've managed
thus far in my life without a father.  I don't think I need one
now."  Blair pushed past Jim and snatched open the door.

"Blair!"

"Jim, save it, okay," Blair growled then slammed the door behind
him.

Jim flinched at the noise.

"That went well, Jim," Simon remarked behind him.

"You back me on this. Right, Simon?"

"Jim--" Banks hesitated.

"Right, Simon?"  Ellison repeated.

"Yes and no."

"Maybe you would like to explain?"  Ellison scowled at this
captain.

"Jim, Sandburg had a few good points there.  One, he is a
scientist.  He is accustomed to entering strange societies and
adapting without, I don't know, losing himself in them.  Does
that make sense?  Anyway, two, he is the right age.  He's got the
right look.  Three, he's right, he doesn't really sleep from what
you yourself have told me.  Sleep deprivation is a way of life
for this kid. And as far as diet is concerned, he eats a bunch of
weird stuff anyway.  Nothing they do or do not give him is going
to make much of a difference."

"Okay, Simon, I have just one point to make.  He is a police
observer, not a cop.  And he's my guide."


"That's two points, Jim."

"Damn it, Simon.  I'm not kidding here.  I won't, I can't risk
him that way.  How would we get him out if something went wrong? 
How would we get him out if things went right?  These people
isolate themselves and their followers, don't they?  Are we just
going to drive up to their front gate and say, 'We're here to
pick up our undercover guy.  Could you send him out, please?' 
Think, Simon!  Quite frankly, I don't think sending anybody in
there is a good idea so there's no way that somebody is going to
be Blair."  Jim had stood during his speech and was leaned across
Simon's desk as he ended it.

"Now just wait a damn minute, Ellison!"  Simon stood, forcing Jim
to take a step back.  "Just who do you think you are talking to? 
Just exactly what do you take me for?  An idiot?  I *am* your
superior officer so watch the tone you take with me.  And
secondly, there would naturally be plans for a pullout and
contingency plans if a problem arose with the original plans to
pull our man out."

"Simon, Captain, if things went wrong, *our* man could no longer
be *our* man.  He could be indoctrinated, brainwashed.  Then your
contingency plans would have to include a kidnapping."  Jim's
voice was soft, almost pleading.  "Are you prepared for that,
sir?"

Simon Banks sat back down and leaned forward over his desk, his
forehead resting in his hand.  "I really don't like Judith
Mills."
________________________________________________________________

Blair was waiting by the truck when Jim got off the elevator. 
The two climbed into the old blue and white pickup in silence and
remained silent until Jim pulled out the garage.

"Blair--"

"Could you drop me at the university, Jim?  I have some work I
need to do," Blair interrupted.

"I thought you were on break as of yesterday until the new
semester starts."

"That's for students. I'm a teacher and a student, remember?" 
Jim could feel Blair's anger flowing into each word.  

"Blair, let me explain."

"Nothing to explain, man.  You think I'm incompetent.  I've known
that for a while.  You think of me like I'm a little kid who
can't do anything right or take care of himself."

Jim was shocked by Blair's estimation of his feelings toward his
guide.  "That's not true,"  Jim insisted.  "Blair, if I thought
that you were incompetent, I wouldn't trust you to back me up.  I
do trust you.  Blair, I don't think sending anyone into this cult
is a good idea.  There are too many risks.  And if I seemed a
little overbearing--"

"A little overbearing?"  Blair mocked.

"If I seemed a lot overbearing.  Better?"  Jim paused to wait for
an answer and to take a moment to wonder, not for the first time,
who in Blair's life had made him so insecure.

Blair nodded.

"Okay.  Then it was just because I don't want anything to happen
to you.  I need you, Blair.  You're my guide, remember?"

Blair gave him a weak smile.

"And you're my friend, Blair.  I don't like risking my friends."

Blair gave him a real smile then, that smile that was truly
Blair, the one that Jim was sure was what drew women to his
partner like flies to honey.  "Thanks, Jim.  I'm sorry, man."
Blair's very blue eyes were shining with what quite possibly
could have been unshed tears and Jim was struck once again at how
fragile his friend's self concept could be.

Jim waved his hand at him, dismissing the apology as unnecessary. 
A short silence followed then Jim said solemnly, "I think Simon's
going to take you up on your offer, anyway.  In spite of how I
feel.  He's under pressure and you're his best bet.  He didn't
say as much but I know he's thinking about it."

Blair stared at Jim.  "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, Chief, I am."

Blair suppressed a smile he knew his friend wouldn't appreciate. 
"I can do this, Jim."

"Let's talk to David Harper first.  I want to know about this
torture story first.  If this guy's got so much as one bruise,
I'll fight Simon tooth and nail over this."

"Jim, don't worry, man.  Pain is *so* not my thing.  If there's
torture involved, my offer is withdrawn," Blair assured 
him.

"Good.  So do I turn here to go to the university or am I
forgiven?"  Jim pointed to the upcoming turn.

"You're forgiven.  Let's go talk to Harper."


"Thanks, Chief."
__________________________________________________________


"Detective Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg to see Ms. Mills and
Mr. Harper," Jim announced as the maid opened the door of Judith
Mills' home.  The woman stepped aside for them to enter.

"Detective Ellison."  Ms. Mills approached Jim on the right,
extending her hand to him.

"M'am," he answered.  "This is my partner, Blair Sandburg."  Jim
introduced Blair who held out his hand to the small steel gray-
haired woman.

"I see."  She looked Blair up and down then turned without taking
his hand.  "Follow me, gentlemen."

Blair looked a little hurt.  Jim smiled at him slightly and
clasped his hand on Blair's shoulder, squeezing a bit to try to
reassure the younger man before following the rude little woman. 
As Blair fell in behind him, Jim frowned at the back of the
woman's head.  He was a little tired of everyone judging his
partner by his appearance.  *You did the same thing,* whispered
his conscience and Jim was treated to a flash of memory, at that
moment, of his own behavior toward Blair at their first meeting. 
Well, second, whatever.  *Something about neo-hippies and
slamming him against a wall.*  Jim sighed and instantly Blair's
hand was on his shoulder.  Jim turned to see the question in his
friend's expressive eyes.  Jim shook his head a little and Blair
allowed his hand to fall away.  The former Councilwoman turned to
the right then and led them into an elegantly decorated sitting
room.  Large leather upholstered sofas and a Queen Anne chair
were arranged to create a cozy area for conversation in front of
a large stonework fireplace.  A young man about Blair's age sat
on the smaller of the two sofas.

"This is my nephew, David Harper.  David, this is Detective Jim
Ellison.  Tell the detective what you told me."  Ms. Mills sat in
the Queen Anne chair and watched as Jim shook her nephew's hand
and moved to sit down on the end of the large sofa closest to
David.  Blair started to sit as well but a nasty look from Judith
Mills changed his mind.  He remained standing, feeling
uncomfortable and very unwelcome.  

The exchange did not go unnoticed by either Jim or David Harper. 
Anger flashed in Jim's eyes and Harper frowned and averted his
eyes, staring out the window over Jim's shoulder.  "Aunt Judith,
can't you just leave this alone?"

"David, talk to the detective.  Now."

Harper sighed and met Jim's eyes.  "Detective, I asked her not to
call anybody.  I told her I didn't want to do this.  I'm home. 
That should be enough."

"Mr. Harper, your aunt mentioned that you thought that there
might be a drug lab on the property.  We can't just ignore that. 
Now, can you tell me what led you to believe the cult is
operating a drug lab?"  Jim asked.

"What about David being tortured?"  Mills insisted.

"Aunt Judith, tortured is your word.  They didn't let me sleep
very much and I didn't get to eat a lot or very often.  That's
it."

"You have dark circles under your eyes, you are pale, and you've
lost at least thirty pounds.  I say that speaks of torture. 
Detective, what do you plan to do about this?"

Blair cringed at the nasal sound of the woman's voice, rising in
both pitch and volume.  *If it's hurting my ears, poor Jim,* he
thought sympathetically.

"Mr. Harper, back to the drug lab."  Jim ignored her.

*Oh, that's not going to go over very well.* Blair smiled a
little then bit his lower lip to stop the smile from spreading
lest it be noticed.

"There was one part of the property that was strictly off-limits
to most of the brothers and sisters. Only Mother Ruth, Father
Isaac, Brother Joshua, Brother Matthew and a few others were
allowed back there.  One day, not long after I got there, I got
curious as to why no one else was supposed to go there.  I gave
my shadow the slip and climbed the fence.  I got close enough
before I was caught to see two buildings.  There were a lot of
people back there that I had never seen in the camp.  A truck
pulled up and those people started loading these boxes and
bundles into it.  That's all I saw because I got caught.  Brother
Joshua caught me and took me back to the camp, none too gently,
by the way.  Later, I was told that one building was Mother and
Father's private chapel and quarters and the other was a storage
building for all the books and crafts that we sell."  A disgusted
sigh came from Judith Mills and her nephew looked stricken then
added softly, "I mean, sold.  That they sell and I sold."

Blair closed his eyes and grimaced in sympathy.  Jim looked up at
him, a frown on his face as well.  Blair tilted his head slightly
and shrugged with one shoulder.  Jim turned his attention back to
Harper.

"And that's it?  You didn't see what was in the boxes?  What
makes you think it was drugs?"

"It was Brother Joshua's reaction when he found me there and
Father's when Joshua took me to see him.  They were very upset
and nervous.  Joshua pretty much threatened me that I didn't want
to know what would happen to me if I told anybody about that
other building.  I know that's not a lot to go on, Detective, but
if it was just books in there, then why the threats?"

"You're right, that's not a lot to go on.  Could have been
anything in those boxes, from books to drugs to guns, but without
more concrete evidence-"

"It will have to be enough, Mr. Ellison, because I have no
intention of letting this slide and neither does the state
attorney.  Those people have messed with the wrong family.  It's
time they learned that the children of respectable families are
not to be snatched away and brainwashed."

"Speaking of being snatched!"  Harper stood and whirled to face
his aunt.

"Sit, David," the woman ordered in a voice that made Blair
shiver.  Blair was not surprised when Harper sat back down on the
sofa with his head down, eyes staring at his hands in his lap.  

"Ms. Mills, this is not about personal revenge, ma'am.  To pursue
this will place us on very shaky ground already without adding
your personal revenge into it."  Jim tried to keep his voice calm
but Blair saw the jaw clench and knew that Ms. Mills was pushing
way too many buttons in the Sentinel.  He began to look for the
nearest exit and to wonder that even if he found one, could he
get Jim out of it before the man killed the annoying little
woman.

"Don't lecture me, Ellison," she snapped.

It was Harper who spoke next, proving to Blair that the guy had
more guts than he himself did.  Blair decided that if he were in
David Harper's position, he just would have kept his mouth shut
and hoped for the best. "He's right, Aunt Judith.  I saw it
happen when Meredith's parents had her snatched from the cult. 
Meredith got away and the cult actually pressed charges with
Meredith signing the complaint.  The law has very few options
against these people.  They use the first amendment to their
advantage.  Just imagine what would have happened if I had..."
his voice trailed off and he returned to his intense study of his
hands.  "Anyway, it's over now.  I could be wrong about the whole
thing."

His aunt ignored him and turned back to Jim.  "How do you intend
to proceed?"

"I'm not sure.  My captain is heading this up personally.  It's
his call."  Jim never looked at the woman as he gave his answer. 
His eyes were on Blair.  

Blair did not notice, however.  His focus was on David Harper. 
The stylish blond hair, the country club clothes, and the
haunted, lost green eyes gave Blair a strange impression.  He
felt he was looking at the human equivalent of a pampered
pedigree dog.  One that had been tossed to the wolves just long
enough to realize it was not were it belonged and yet long enough
to become something other than Judith Mills' lap dog.  Blair felt
very sorry for David Harper.  He'd lost something of himself and
had no idea where or how to find it.  This was not over for him
and he was essentially alone.  Harper looked directly at Blair
then and Blair smiled a little at him.  Harper returned the
smile.  *As best he could,* Blair thought.  The smile was sad and
even with all its sadness was still out of place on the
devastated countenance of the pale face.  Blair wondered how the
man had managed to smile at all.  He knew he could not have. 
Blair wanted to reach out to this stranger but he knew that
Judith Mills would not have been receptive even if her nephew
was.  Still, he tried to make his eyes say to Harper that he
understood and watched as Harper's smile grew a little less sad. 
Jim stood then, drawing Blair's attention away.  

"We'll keep you informed, Ms. Mills."

"Do that, Detective. Goodbye," she said curtly.  "Maria will show
you out.  David, go upstairs and rest," she called over her
shoulder as she walked out of the room and snapped her fingers at
the maid.  When the maid approached, Judith Mills departed
without another word.

________________________________________________________________

"Bitch."  Blair declared once outside the Councilwoman's home.  

"Tell me about it, Chief.  Don't let it bother you.  You're
better off being ignored when it comes to her.  If she notices
you, she'll use you for whatever she can get."

"I'm *so* over how she treated me, Jim.  I'm not talking about
me.  I don't ever have to see the woman again after this case. 
Did you *see*?  I mean, poor guy.  I would run off and join a
cult if I had to put up with her."

"Yes, I saw.  And where does that leave me?  You're thinking
about running off and joining a cult right now.  Are you trying
to tell me something?"  Jim looked at Blair from across the bed
of the truck.

Blair almost made a joke about the house rules but reconsidered
when the look on Jim's face registered in his brain.  "Jim, it's
not the same, man.  You know that.  Don't do this to me,"  he
pleaded.

"You're right, Chief.  That wasn't fair."  Jim turned away and
climbed into the truck.  Blair sighed then got in as well.

A strained silence followed and lasted until Blair could stand it
no longer.  "So, what do you think?"

"I don't know, Chief.  Sounds pretty weak to me.  We could look
into it but I don't like Simon's plan."

"You want to slip onto the property and investigate, Sentinel
style, right?"

"Yeah, it'd be a lot safer than sending somebody into the cult. 
Don't you agree?"  *Please agree, Blair.*  

"Safer for me, you mean.  What about safer for you?  I mean, come
on, if these people catch you snooping around and that really is
a drug lab, you're screwed, Jim.  Toast, get it?"

"Who says I'll get caught?  You're showing a lot of faith in me
here, Chief.  A guy could get a big head from all the faith you
got in me.  Besides, I figured I'd take you with me to watch my
back.  Harper got caught because he's not a pro.  Chief, I was
covert ops, remember?"  

"I remember.  But Jim if you find anything without a warrant, you
can't use it and what are the chances of getting a warrant? 
Slim, that's what."

Jim drove on in silence.  Blair was right.  *God, just please let
Simon find somebody else.  I'm not asking for much.  Am I?*  he
prayed.  *I just don't want to risk him that way.*  "I just don't
want to risk you this way," he said aloud.

"I know and I appreciate that, but Jim, if it's the best way then
it's what we need to do that counts.  Not what we want to do."

Jim half growled, half groaned and smacked his forehead on the
steering wheel.  Blair, flinching in sympathy, almost missed
Jim's words.  "All right."

"What?  Yes!"

"Hold it, Chief.  We exhaust all other possible avenues first. 
Then and only then do we do this."

"Fine."

Jim brought the truck to a stop at a red light and turned to
Blair.  "Blair?"

"Yeah, Jim?"

"Is there anything you wouldn't do in the name of research?"

"Yeah, Jim."

"What?"

"Die," he whispered so very softly, knowing that Jim could still
hear him.  

Jim sat, staring at Blair, too stunned to reply.

"Jim."

"Yeah, Blair?"

"The light's green, man."

"Oh."  Jim faced the road again and pulled off.

________________________________________________________________

Chapter 2

"We didn't get the warrant, Jim," Simon told him as he and Blair
entered Simon's office.  

Twenty-four hours had passed since their first meeting on the
case and Jim had spent every minute of those hours worrying about
Blair's possible involvement.  "Damn it!" he exclaimed.  "I
thought the state attorney was backing this."

"He is but even he has to answer to the judge, Jim.  The judge
said that he wasn't about to risk a civil rights suit on the word
of a scared kid who saw some boxes and little else."  Simon tried
to remain calm as he watched Ellison paced back and forth in
front of his desk.  "He did say, however, that if we could come
up with a second witness with a little more to say, he would
reconsider."  Simon paused, waiting for a response.  Nothing came
but the pacing stopped by the window.  Ellison stared out the
window, his back turned to his captain.  Banks realized he would
have to push the issue.  "Jim, I've looked everywhere for an
alternative.  The only places where I might have found a suitable
candidate were the uniforms and vice.  The uniforms of the right
age are either too inexperienced or even without the uniform just
seem to scream, 'cop.'  Vice is over loaded right now.  Most of
their best candidates are undercover in major operations and they
need every man they have to back them up."  Still nothing came
from Ellison.  Banks shook his head then turned to Blair, who had
been strangely silent.  "Blair--"

"No," Ellison stated firmly without turning around.

"Jim!"  Blair blurted out.

"Ellison."  Banks sat back in his chair, exasperated.

"Simon, let me."  Blair stepped away from the door, moving toward
Jim.  "Jim, you said that if all other avenues were exhausted and
if it was really necessary, you wouldn't fight it.  Look, I know
Simon's not real happy about this.  He would rather have someone
else, a cop, trained and all.  What he's got is me.  He's
accepted it.  Why can't you?"

"You're not his guide."  Jim turned slowly to face Blair.  "You
aren't his roommate.  You aren't his--"

Simon stood suddenly.  "Ellison, if you say I'm not his friend, I
think I may have to punch you."

Blair looked as stunned as Jim but for a different reason.  Jim
was trying hard to grasp the fact that this whole scene was
happening while Blair was trying hard to grasp that Simon thought
of him as a friend.  He thought of the big captain that way but
had no idea the sentiment was returned.

Banks continued, "Damn it, Jim.  Sandburg is right.  I'm not
happy about this.  This is a last resort but not because I don't
like or trust Blair.  The kid's grown on me, Jim.  I don't like
risking him either but my butt's in the fire here and I'm out of
options.  Maybe, just maybe, with his scientific approach and
objectivity, he can do this."

Jim wanted to remind Simon of Blair's decided lack of objectivity
since he began working with Jim but the captain was still
speaking.

"And both you and I will be on the backup team.  Sandburg, any
sign of trouble and you get the hell out of there.  Do you hear
me?  We'll be posted as close as possible without being seen. 
I'll have Jim with me and when we're off duty, Brown and Rafe
will be your backup and they'll have mics and binoculars. 
Clear?"

"Yes, sir," Blair answered solemnly, glancing at Jim as he did. 
Jim sat heavily into a chair, his jaw clenched and his hands
gripping the arms of the chair so hard that Blair could see his
knuckles turning white.  "I'm sorry, Jim."

"It's not your place to apologize, Blair," Jim said stiffly,
fixing his icy eyes on Simon Banks, his captain and friend,
although no evidence of friendship could be found in that gaze.

"Jim, if there was any other way..."  Simon started but faded out
as he came to the conclusion it was useless to try given the
state Jim was in.

"If anything happens to him, Captain Banks, I'm holding you and
the state attorney personally responsible."  With that, James
Ellison quickly exited Banks' office and slammed the door behind
him.  The officers of Major Crimes sat bewildered and more than
little worried as he stalked through the bullpen.  No one moved
except for Brown who found himself in Ellison's path.  He moved
and quickly, for fear of being physically tossed if he did not. 
A sigh of relief went up as the swinging doors closed after the
irate detective and all eyes turned to Simon's door.

Back inside the office, Simon leaned back in his chair and Blair
released the breath he did not know he was holding.  "He's kinda
pissed, Simon."

"Oh, you think?" Simon's tone was biting.

Blair looked down a the floor, wishing he could just sink into it
and disappear.

Simon noticed the expression and berated himself for snapping at
the young man.  After all, they were on the same side on this
issue.  "Sorry, Kid."

Blair raised his eyes.  "When do we get started?  'Cause I don't
really want to go home right now."  He stared out through the
bullpen at the doors still swaying slightly on their hinges from
Jim's rather violent exit.

"He won't take this out on you, Sandburg."

"Maybe not, but he's still not going to be 'Mr. Sunshine' now is
he?"

________________________________________________________________

David Harper spoke as he descended the stairs to meet the man at
the bottom.  "Detective, hello.  What can I do for you?"

"I need to speak with you about your experiences inside the
cult," Jim told the young man.  "Not the building and the boxes
but what happened to you inside there.  It's important, Mr.
Harper.  I know it's difficult but I need to know some things."

Harper's face had drained of all color but he motioned for Jim to
come with him.  Jim followed the man into the same sitting room.
"Just call me David," he said as he sat down and waited for Jim
to do the same.

"Okay, David.  I need to know some details."

"Details?  Why?"

"They're sending my partner inside and I need to know how to get
him prepared.  I need to know what he can expect."

"Partner?  The guy that was here with you?"

"Yes, his name's Blair Sandburg."

"Detective Ellison, don't let them do that.  There's no
preparation for that.  They'll eat him alive.  Especially him. 
Man, he'd be just what she likes."  Harper was standing, pacing
and rambling.


"Whoa, hold on.  What are you talking about?  What do you mean
they'd especially eat Blair alive?"  Jim stood and put a hand on
Harper's chest to stop the man in front of him.

Harper took a deep breath and released it slowly.  He swallowed
hard then began, "Detective, there are things that go on in there
that I didn't actually see but that I heard of.  There were a few
who are chosen, picked out by the leaders for special
*purifications*.  These people are separated from the rest of the
members and recruits and when they get back, they just aren't the
same.  And your partner, he's got certain qualities that Mother
likes.  She'll pick him out and, I don't know what will happen,
but he'll be just like the others when she gets through with him. 
I mean, Father picks out the women and when they get back, they
are just totally devoted to Father.  They love him.  But Mother,
Mother picks out men and when they get back, they just seem, how
can I say this," he paused, "broken, " he finished.

Jim blinked.  "Why Blair?"

"She likes intelligent, artistic types.  She'll love his hair and
his eyes.  He's smart, I could see it in his eyes."  Harper
waited for Ellison to say something but the detective seemed to
be in shock.  "Like I said, I don't know what happened to those
guys.  They just were all *there* anymore.  I know that sounds
funny coming from me since I really wasn't all *there* either but
this was something more.  I can look back and see it now.  Mother
is dangerous.  Father just likes to talk about how great his
ideas are.  Mother is the one you have to worry about.  I
couldn't see it then but I do now.  My spoiled brat attitude and
yuppie looks probably saved me from her.  But your friend, she'll
take one look at him and he'll never be the same."  Ellison stood
rooted to the floor where he stood and staring out at nothing. 
"Detective?  Mr. Ellison?"  Harper reached out and touched the
man.  He seemed to snap back into reality and sat down on the
sofa.  

"My god," he finally whispered.

"You have to stop it.  Don't let your partner do this."

"Thank you, David.  You've been a big help.  I'd better get back
to the station and put a stop to this."  Jim was on his feet
again and headed for the front door.  

Harper followed along behind him.  As the two of them reached the
door, Harper moved in front of Jim.  "You know, your partner,
Blair, right?"

"Yes."

"He was nice to me when he was here.  My aunt is angry with me
for being stupid.  The household staff looks at me like I'm
crazy.  My friends have disappeared, polite excuses made and
accepted, but he smiled at me.  There was this look in his eyes
like he understood.  That's more than I've gotten from anybody
except my therapist since I got back.  Tell him it was
appreciated.  He is appreciated."

"That's Blair," Jim told him.  "I'll tell him.  Thanks again."

________________________________________________________________

Blair got out of Simon's car and stood on the sidewalk, waiting
for the older man to exit the vehicle as well.  Banks got out and
moved to join Blair.  "Are you sure about this?" he asked the
curly-headed young man who was so very important to his friend,
James Ellison.

"I think so.  Look, Simon, you need to watch out for Jim while
I'm inside.  He's probably gonna zone trying to locate me inside
the camp more than once and when he's off duty, he may go nuts."

"I will, Sandburg."  Captain Banks put his hand on the smaller
man's shoulder. "Just turn the corner to the right and you'll see
the welcome center.  I still don't like doing this while Jim is
out."

"Simon, if we stall, it'll give him time to try to stop it or do
something crazy like sneak in without a warrant."

"I know, I know.  I've got Rafe and Brown up at their camp
scouting it out right now.  It's outside the city limits but the
state attorney arranged for our clearance.  Just keep in mind
that they will try to get you up there as early as tonight. 
Don't seem too eager.  They may get suspicious.  Let them insist,
then go.  Okay?  Any questions?"  Blair shook his head and Simon
continued, "Good.  One week and then out.  They shouldn't try to
keep you there but if they do, make noise and we'll come running
and deal with the fallout later.  See you at the gate.  Call when
you can or if you need us."

"Yes, sir," Blair said as he began walking backwards away from
Simon.  He waved then spun around and soon disappeared around the
corner.

________________________________________________________________

Blair stood in front of the pretty two-story house and stared at
the sign on the lawn.  He jumped a little involuntarily at the
happy greeting that came from the porch.  "Hi," he answered back.

"I didn't mean to scare you."  A pretty and very bouncy blonde
came skipping down the steps.  *Yes,* Blair thought, *she is
actually skipping.* "I'm Amy," she said, making a great show of
offering her hand to him.

"I'm Blair."

"What can we do for you, Blair?"  She hooked his arm and began to
lead him toward the house.

*She's fast.* "I'm looking for a friend.  Maybe you know him. 
David Harper?  I ran into him in the city one day and he told me
that I had to check this place out.  So here I am," Blair
explained, sticking to the story he and Simon had discussed on
the way over.  He noticed that he was ascending the steps.

"Well, I'm sorry to say that David is away right now but I'm sure
he'll be back soon.  In the meantime," she opened the door for
him, "why don't you learn for yourself how great this place is?"

"I don't know.  Maybe I should come back when David is here."  He
started to turn around but Amy held on and pulled him into the
house.

"No, no!  We insist.  David would be crushed if he found out you
didn't at least stay and have dinner with us."

Blair glanced around himself.  There wasn't a lot of furniture
but there were quite a few people and they were all smiling at
him.

"Isn't that right, everyone?"  Lots of affirmatives went up
around the room.  "Everyone, this is Blair.  Blair is a friend of
Brother David's."

Blair managed one step backwards before he was completely
surrounded by people, all calling out welcomes and hugging him or
just touching his shoulders and hands.  He was uncomfortable and
hot.  *And probably red as a beet,* he thought. He resisted the
urge to fling himself toward the door and run.  He smiled at
them, weakly.  For the first time, he wondered if this had been
such a good idea.

________________________________________________________________

"Captain, where have you been?  Where's Blair?  I found out some
things you both should know."  Jim got up from his desk and
strode purposefully toward Banks as he entered the squadroom.

"Jim, I took Blair to get some things then I dropped him off
around the corner from the cult's welcome center.  Now, Jim, I
know you're mad but--" Simon held up his hand in an effort to
stop the tirade before it began but he did not get the reaction
he expected.

"Dear God."  Jim turned away and put his hands on the top of the
nearest desk.  "Simon, you have no idea what you've done.  I've
got to go get him,"  Jim blurted out, shaking himself out of his
shock and running back to his desk for his keys.  

Simon caught him as he passed.  "Hold on there, Jim.  What the
hell are you talking about?  You aren't going anywhere near that
place.  You're not pulling Sandburg out of there and that's
that."

"Simon, you don't know what I know."  He pulled his arm from his
captain's grip and started for the door.

"Ellison!"

Jim stopped but did not turn.

"Perhaps you should explain."  

"I don't have time for that right now, Simon."  He moved toward
the door again.

"Detective!  In my office!  Now!"  Simon boomed.

Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath to try to calm
himself.  The deep cleansing breath, as Blair would have called
it, did absolutely nothing to quell his rage and he stormed into
Simon's office.  The officers of Major Crimes watched the scene
in total silence.  

Simon slammed the door and turned to his officer.  "What the hell
is going on?" he demanded.

"Harper told me some things that have led me to believe that
Blair is in danger inside that cult."

"What things?"

Minutes later, Jim sat silent, having compacted Harper's words
into the shortest statement possible.  Jim did not have a lot of
time.  He kept glancing at his watch.  

Simon held his head, propped in his hands, elbows on his desk. 
"That doesn't necessarily mean that Sandburg is at risk.  It's
just Harper's opinion, right?"  Simon rationalized.

Jim shot the man a dark and nasty look but said nothing.

"Jim, Blair's a grown man."

"I want my partner out of there, Simon."

"Jim--"

"Captain, Blair is not a cop.  Blair is an observer, a grad
student, a teacher.  He has no police or military training.  He
is an innocent, Simon.  Naive and optimistic.  But not for long. 
If he stays in that cult, they will rip him to shreds.  I believe
David Harper, sir.  He seemed so sure that Blair would never be
the same."

"I'm not so sure how innocent Sandburg is but I will give you
naive and optimistic.  I'll also give you creative, intelligent,
resourceful, energetic and stubborn.  Jim, he's our best bet to
resolve this case."

"This case.  Screw this case, Simon!"  Ellison was on his feet. 
"Suspend me.  Fire me.  Hell, arrest me but I'm going to get my
partner."

"I won't have to arrest you.  The cult will do it and have you
charged with trespassing.  And that's if you can manage to
control yourself enough to keep your hands off them.  If not, you
can add assault, police brutality and if you grab Blair,
kidnapping.  He will resist you because he wants to do this.  Now
he won't sign the complaint, of course, but just the implications
could cost you your career.  Don't do this, Jim."

"I won't go there as a cop.  I'll say I'm his brother or
something.  That I want to talk to him.  Once I tell him what I
know, he'll come with me."  Ellison's voice was subdued.  "Simon,
I can't leave him there.  They'll destroy him.  I can feel it."

Simon searched his detective's face and sighed.  "I can't, Jim. 
I can't give the okay to pull him out.  The state attorney signed
off on this hours ago."

Jim pulled out his badge and gun.  "I quit."  He turned and
exited the office, without looking back.  He heard Simon's voice
calling after him, then heard the man move to his office door.

"Somebody stop him," he called out to the others in the bullpen. 
Joel Taggert stepped in front of Jim.

Jim stopped.  Taggert's face asked his question, no words were
needed.  "Joel, he sent Blair into a dangerous situation alone. 
I'm going to get him."

Taggert nodded and stepped aside.

"Damn it, Taggert!"  Simon bellowed.  Rafe and Brown entered the
squadroom just as Jim came in reach of the doors and Simon saw a
second chance.  "Brown, don't let Ellison out of that door."

Brown held out his hand, his palm touching Jim's chest.  "You may
want to hear this, Jim.  We just got back from that camp."

"I've got to go get Blair," Jim stated.

"That's not a bad idea.  Captain, there's no way to cover
Sandburg inside that camp.  It's a lot bigger that we were told
and it is completely surrounded by woods.  We can't even see the
camp from the perimeter.  Surveillance is essentially useless," 
Rafe spoke up.

Simon groaned.  Jim spun around to face the groaning man.  "May I
go now before they get Sandburg up there where no one can help
him?"

"Get your damn gun and badge off my desk first, Ellison."

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 3

"Blair, come up to the camp with us."  Amy bounced as she gripped
his arm.

"I thought we were having dinner here."  

"Laurie burned dinner but if we hurry, we can make dinner at the
camp."

"Please, Blair, please,"  several others surrounded him and
begged.  One girl even put her hands in his hair.

"Okay," he conceded, ducking away from the intruding hands. 
Squeals of delight hurt his ears as more hands patted his back
and gripped his hands and arms to push and pull him toward the
big bus entering the driveway.  Blair felt stifled and wanted
badly to escape but instead sighed in resignation and allowed
himself to be practically loaded onto the bus.  Almost
immediately as the bus pulled back out of the driveway, the
people around him began to sing.  Amy urged him to join in the
singing of the old folk songs and upbeat religious songs but
Blair didn't know many of them.  Some of the folk songs, sure,
from Naomi, but the religious ones... Blair thought, *I'm a non-
practicing Jew for pete's sake.  How the hell am I supposed to
know these things.*  Of course, "Jesus Loves the Little Children"
did sound familiar.  He'd had Christian playmates, after all. 
And it seemed easy enough to pick up.  After hearing it a couple
of times, he joined in.  Halfway through though, he stopped. 
*What am I doing?* he asked himself.  *Stop it.  Stay neutral,
watch, not join,* he chastised silently.  He did not sing again.

_______________________________________________________________

Jim had the lights flashing and the siren on as he sped through
the thick evening traffic.  It should have been clear by now but
apparently a couple of accidents had clogged the roadways and
people were still trying to get home.  It was already getting
dark.  "Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Jim swore as he pulled into
the emergency lane to escape another knot of cars barely moving. 
Finally, he reached the turnoff he needed and floored it.  The
truck was sideways as it entered the intersection but Jim
maintained control.  He spared a moment for a quick look behind
him before flooring the gas again.  No lights, he had lost the
uniform car that Simon had dispatched for backup.  Jim had a
feeling that the back up was more for the cult members than for
him, just in case those people did not give him Blair peaceably. 
Another couple of sideways turns and Jim came to a screeching
halt in front of the cult house.  He did not bother to turn the
truck off or close the door as he exited the vehicle and
approached the house.  Two people, a man and a woman, came out of
the house and stood on the porch.

"May we help you, officer?"  the woman asked.

Despite the lights and the siren, he stuck to his brother story. 
It would be safer for Blair that way than if the group pegged
Blair as a cop.  "I'm looking for my brother, Blair.  Long curly
brown hair, blue eyes, shorter than me.  I was told I might could
find him here." 

"I'm afraid there's no one here by that name or fitting that
description,"  the man told him.

Jim stepped onto the bottom step.  "Look, he's been missing for a
while.  I just want to talk to him and make sure he's all right."

"Officer, I am truly sorry but your brother is not here,"  the
woman said sincerely.

No increased heartbeat, Jim noted.  *Dear God, I think she's
telling the truth.*  Jim belatedly began to search for Blair's
heartbeat.  He did not find it.  He refocused on the woman.  "Has
he been here?"

"No."

Now there was a jump.  She was lying.  *You knew that,* Jim told
himself.  The backup arrived.  Jim did not acknowledge them as
they joined him on the lawn.  "You're lying.  He's been here. 
Where is he now?  On the way to your camp?"  Jim's voice had a
deadly tone.  He advanced up another step.

The two did not move.  "Officer, we are a religious organization. 
We are not armed.  Are you threatening us?"

"Detective?"  one of the uniforms spoke behind him.

"Where is Blair?" Jim demanded.  "At your camp, right?  I'm going
to go there and find him.  Of that you can be certain."

"You have no right to interfere with our religious worship,
Detective.  You would do well to keep that in mind," the man
warned.

"You have no right to keep Blair from me.  You better remember
that."

"Detective, should we search the house?"

"No, we don't have a warrant and Blair's not here," Jim told the
young rookie behind him.  "Let's go."

______________________________________________________________

"We were too late for dinner," Amy told Blair, the dejection in
her voice sounding sincere.  She brightened immediately, however,
as she held out a candy bar to him.  "I did manage to get you
this, though."  She grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

"Thanks, but I'm really tired.  Could I just turn in?  Where do I
sleep?"

"Oh, Blair, no!  You can't desert me!  Please, come to the sing
along.  Just for a while, please!"

"Amy, I'm a non-practicing Jew.  I don't even know most of those
songs.  I know some of the folk songs.  My mom was a hippie,
after all.  But those religious songs are definitely not in the
Jewish repertoire,"  Blair explained, despite the fact he knew he
would end up at the sing along anyway.

"I'll teach you then."  She bounced and pulled on his hand again. 
He sighed and allowed her to lead him in the direction all the
others had taken.  "You'll see, Blair, it'll be so much fun."

_____________________________________________________________

"Where's Ellison?"  Simon asked the two uniforms when they
returned without the detective.

"He said he was going home, sir."

"Did you find Sandburg?"

"No, sir.  Detective Ellison said he wasn't there.  How he knew
that, I don't know.  I wouldn't have taken those people's word
for it."

"What else did he say?"

"He said he was going to go get Mr. Sandburg from the camp,"  the
other officer finally spoke.

"And you didn't stop him?"

"He said he was going home, sir.  Surely, he's not going to go up
there tonight."

"You don't know James Ellison," Simon muttered as he went back
into his office to get his keys.  He had to get to Jim.

_________________________________________________________________

He was too late.  He arrived at Jim's loft only to find it empty. 
The big man swore and slammed his fist into the door.  Jim was
about to cross the line, probably already was even as Simon stood
helpless to stop him.  "My life is just too damn complicated," he
whispered to himself as he turned to leave.


He had just finished his very late dinner when the phone rang. 
"Banks."

"Simon, it's Jim."

"Jim, where are you?  Did you find Sandburg?"

"Simon, I hate to ask but could you come bail me out?"

"Bail you out!" Simon screamed.  "What the hell?!"

"Trespassing, Simon.  I got arrested for trespassing."  Jim's
voice sounded- what?- exhausted, disgusted, resigned, all three? 
*All three,* Simon decided.

"How?  Why?"  Simon sputtered.  

Jim understood what he was asking.  "I can't explain it right
now.  I'll explain if you come get me."

"When I come get you," Simon corrected.

"Thanks, Simon."

"Hold tight, Jim.  Now tell me where you are."  Simon grabbed a
piece of paper and a pen.

_____________________________________________________________

Simon Banks sat inside the tiny sheriff's office waiting for the
man to return with his detective.  The sheriff, whose name was
Harvey Gaines, had already explained to him the charges and the
details of Jim's arrest.  He had also apologized profusely for
having to arrest Jim in the first place.  It seemed that Jim had
climbed over the fence onto the church's property and was caught
by two of the members.  The camp had already been warned by their
Cascade ministry that a crazed police officer might come looking
for his brother.  They had been ready for him.  The
representative from the camp, a Brother Matthew, had told the
sheriff that the church felt that they simply must press charges
because of Ellison's position and his attitude.  They had to make
a point.  Ellison needed to understand that he was not welcome
and that he was not above the law.

Jim Ellison entered the office with Gaines right behind him. 
Gaines had been very helpful in getting Jim's bail set quickly. 
"I'm very sorry about this, detective," he was saying.  "We all
know those people are nuts but the law says I have to leave them
alone and when they make a complaint, I have to act on it."

"I understand, Sheriff."  Jim sat next to Simon as Gaines
arranged himself on the corner of his desk.

"I got word from the state attorney that I would be seeing some
folks from the Cascade PD, but I had no idea it would be in my
holding cell,"  Gaines told them both.  "I don't think that was
the plan, now was it?"

"No.  Detective Ellison became concerned about our undercover man
and decided to try to check on him.  He should have called for
backup."  Simon was not looking at Gaines.  He was looking at
Jim.  It did not go unnoticed by either man.  Simon stood and
offered Gaines his hand.  "Thank you, Sheriff."

"It was nice to meet you, Captain Banks.  I'm sorry the
circumstances weren't better."

Jim stood slowly.  Gaines broke his handshake with Banks and
offered his hand to Jim.  Jim took it. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Detective Ellison.  Good luck, gentlemen.  I
hope I don't have to see you on your court date.  Usually, these
people do drop the charges.  Let me know if I can help you in any
way."

"Thank you, again," Simon said as he ushered Jim out of the
Sheriff's office and out the front door.  Once safely in the car,
he turned to Jim, the question was not spoken, it was understood
and expected.

"I zoned, Simon.  I zoned out searching for Blair's heartbeat and
they walked right up to me before I even knew they were there."

"Damn it!" Simon swore.  "Ah, Jim."

"Yeah, I know.  They know my name.  If they do any checking at
all, they'll know I'm not Blair's brother.  A few more questions
and they'll know exactly who and what Blair is.  I screwed up,
Simon."

"Yes, you did."

"What now?"

"I'll try to get to him tomorrow.  I'll come up with something. 
If he sees me, he'll know something's up and he'll come with me. 
They'll have to let him leave and no laws get broken."

"You mean, no *more* laws get broken," Jim mumbled.

"Ellison, knock it off.  Yes, you messed up but we don't have
time for a pity party.  Let's go home and I'll come up with a way
to get to Blair tomorrow."

"Thanks, Simon."

"No problem."

The rest of their trip home was silent.

____________________________________________________________

Silence was what Blair craved.  Silence and sleep.  Just because
they had sing alongs did not mean that all of them could sing. 
*As a matter of fact, the majority could most definitely *not*
sing,* Blair thought sourly.  He tried to pull his hand up to
check his watch but Amy held it firmly down by her side as she
swayed and sang.  Blair was tired of this.  He snatched his hand
away.

"I've got to go to the restroom," he told her over the singing.

"Oh, okay.  John will show you where it is."  She turned and
tapped a tall sandy haired singer on the shoulder and whispered
something to him.  Suddenly, John's arm was around Blair's
shoulders and he was being led out.  Once outside the building,
Blair tried to shrug off John's arm but the man held on.  

"So, Blair, tell me about yourself."

"Not much to tell."

"I heard you tell Amy earlier that your mom was a hippie," John
said, laughing a little. "You mean, love beads and all that?"

"Yeah, so?"  Blair was instantly on the defensive.  John's tone
was a little too condescending for his taste.

"No reason.  I mean, I can kinda see her influence in you. 
That's all.  What about your dad?"

"What about him?" Blair muttered, even more uncomfortable with
the conversation.  "Look, where are the bathrooms?  Just point
them out and I'll find my way.  You don't have to go with me."

"Oh, I don't mind.  You were going to tell me about your dad."

"No, I wasn't," Blair snapped.

"Hey, Blair, I'm sorry.  Look, a lot of us had problems with our
parents.  It's okay.  Did he hurt you?"

"No!"  Blair pushed John off him.  "I don't even know him, okay! 
I have no idea who he is.  I don't even have a name.  From what I
understand, there's more than a couple of candidates."  Blair
stopped.  Confusion warred with anger on his face.  Confusion
won.  "God, why am I saying this?  Why am I telling you this?  I
don't even know you.  I'm tired, okay.  Leave me alone.  I gotta
go."  He started backing away.

"Blair."  John moved with him.

"I want to be alone and think."  Blair held up his hand to stop
the man who in Blair's mind seemed for all the world to be
stalking him, matching his steps one by one.  "Stop!" he yelled.

"Okay, Blair.  I'm sorry.  I'll go back inside.  The bathrooms
are over there."  He pointed off to the left.

"Thank you."

_____________________________________________________________

Blair washed his hands then dragged them through his hair.  He
took a deep breath and regarded himself in the old cracked mirror
over the sink.  "Get a grip, Blair.  What the hell was all that
freaking out about?" he asked his reflection.  "Just go for a
walk, clear your head, and find somewhere to sleep," he
instructed the face in the mirror.

He did not get a chance to follow those instructions, however. 
Amy and two other women waited for him outside the bathroom door. 
Blair swore under his breath as Amy bounced over to grab his arm.

"Blair, we were getting worried about you," she squealed.  "John
said that you were upset.  I just had to come check on you.  Are
you all right, sweetie?"  She smoothed his hair away from his
face with one hand while the other maintained the death grip on
his arm.

Blair leaned his head away from her hand. "I'm fine."  His other
arm was caught then and he turned to face the captor.  "Hi," he
said weakly.

"Hi, yourself.  I'm Kathy."

"And I'm Lisa."  Lisa extended her hand and Blair had to move
Kathy along with his arm to accept her handshake.

"Let's get back to the sing along, Blair.  There are still some
more songs we have to teach you," Amy said in a sing-song voice
as she and Kathy practically dragged him with them back to the
caterwauling he had so recently escaped.

"It's getting really late now, isn't it?"  Blair tried again to
see his watch, only just remembering he hadn't checked it while
he had the chance.  *Well, the chance has passed,*  Blair
thought, sighing aloud.  *They aren't going to let me get to it
now.*

Over the course of sing along, Blair tried several more times to
see his watch.  He stood, swaying but not singing, between Amy
and Kathy.  They were no longer holding his hands but instead had
draped their arms over his shoulders and pulled his arms around
their waists.  Blair tried again.  He pulled his arm from Amy's
waist and tried to sneak a peek at the watch but she grabbed his
wrist.  "That's it, Blair.  Give me that." She quickly removed
his watch from his wrist.  He opened his mouth to protest but she
did not allow it.  "You act like you're late for something.  Time
worshipping the Saviors and God is never wasted and should not be
timed or limited or interrupted by constantly checking your
watch," she scolded, still smiling sweetly.  She stuffed his
watch into her jeans pocket.

"What saviors?" he mumbled.

"Oh, don't worry.  You'll meet Mother and Father tomorrow," she
assured him as she pulled his arm back around her waist and
draped herself over his shoulder once again.  She began to sing
and Blair rolled his eyes and resigned himself to being stuck
there.

It was four in the morning when the sing along broke up.  Blair
knew that because Amy had finally given him back his watch when
the last song ended.  He looked at it immediately and she "tsked"
at him.  He ignored her.  That was the best course of action.  He
was tired and more than a little annoyed.  His ears rang and his
head hurt.  He longed for Jim's ability to filter things out,
then remembered that Jim's abilities could be as much curse as
blessing if he lost control.  He grimaced at the thought of poor
Jim having to endure the noise he'd just suffered through without
the benefit of control of his hearing.  They had sung each song
they knew two and three times each he was sure and they were not
likely to be invited to perform at Carnegie Hall anytime this
century.  Without warning, John was back and Amy said her
goodnights.  Kathy kissed his cheek and followed her away.

"Come on.  I'll show you to the men's cabins.  You're in my
cabin."  John pulled Blair under his arm.  Blair tried to pull
away and John responded by tightening his grip.

"John, look, man, I'm not real comfortable with all this
touching.  Give me some space, man, please."

John removed his arm and Blair took a couple of steps back. 
"Blair, I'm sorry.  I just wanted you to feel welcome.  I mean,
with your mom and everything, I didn't figure you to have too
many macho hang-ups.  I wasn't trying to make you feel
uncomfortable."

"Well, you did.  And I don't, but I don't know you, man.  So,
let's chill out, okay?"

"Okay.  Sorry." 

"And you apologize as much as I do.  I just want to go to sleep."

John nodded and motioned for Blair to follow him.  He led the way
to a large building.  Once inside, Blair stopped to let his eyes
adjust to the darkness.  The floor was filled with pallets and
almost every pallet had a person on it.  John touched Blair's arm
tentatively.  "This way."  He led Blair to an empty pallet.
"Sleep tight.  I'll be right over there if you need anything." 
He pointed.

Blair nodded.  "All I need is sleep, man.  Good night."

_____________________________________________________________

*Noise,* Blair thought, disoriented.  *Gotta stop that noise
before Jim...*  He was unable to finish that thought because
someone was shaking him.  

"Up and at'em, Blair.  Rise and shine," the cheerful voice
implored.

*Not Jim,* Blair realized.  He opened one eye.  Not Jim, John. 
He groaned and tried to pull his blanket over his head to shut
out John and the awful singing which had been the noise he had
heard.

"No, no, no, Sleepyhead."  John pulled the blanket away and took
Blair by the arm.

Blair glared at John's hand on his arm.  "Thought we discussed 
the touching thing," he grumbled, allowing the hostility to come
across quite clearly.

"I was just trying to help you up."

"Help me up?  John, it's still dark outside.  What time is it?" 
Blair squinted at his watch.  It was too dark to see.

"Almost sunrise," John told him.  "We make it a point to greet
every new day we're given with joy."

"I'll greet it later," Blair muttered, reaching for the blanket.

"Nope, can't let you do that."  John motioned to another man and
the two of them lifted Blair from the floor.  "The Saviors,
Mother Ruth and Father Isaac, will be here soon.  We have
preparations to make."


Blair snatched away from them.  "Let go."

The other man started to reach out to Blair again but John
stopped him.  "Brother Blair is up now.  Aren't you, Blair?  Come
on.  It's time to sing and praise God and the Saviors. 
Afterwards, we'll have games and group activities then you'll
meet Mother and Father and then the lecture series and then more
games.  We have a full day today," John explained as Blair
stumbled out of the building with John and the other man close
behind.

"I didn't hear anything about food in there."

"Of course, there will be food.  Picnics, to be exact, during
group time," John laughed and almost touched Blair's shoulder but
pulled back at the last moment.

Blair noticed.  "That's comforting," he remarked.  "I'm headed to
the bathroom."

"I'm headed that way myself."

"Great, just great.  How did I know that?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

____________________________________________________________

Simon drove up to the gate of Camp Brightsouls, as it was
apparently called, according to the sign.  He got out of his car. 
There were two young men there to greet him, one blond and the
other brunette.  "Good morning."

"Good morning, Captain Banks.  Diane called to let us know you
were coming so we could meet you.  I'm Brother Matthew and this
is Brother Joshua.  How can we help you?"  the blond asked.

"I need to speak with Blair Sandburg.  I was told he was here."

"His brother send you?" the brunette, Brother Joshua inquired.

"Well, yes.  There is a family emergency.  That's why Detective
Ellison was so anxious to see him."

"Different last names," Brother Matthew observed, matter-of-
factly.

"Yes, same mother, different father," Simon said in explanation. 
*Please, buy this fish story,* he prayed.

"Half-brothers then.  Well, Captain Banks, I'm sorry to tell you
this but Brother Blair left this morning even before sunrise to
go on a retreat with some of the others of our group.  They went
off into the mountains to meditate and they can't be reached.  If
you'll give me the message, I'll be sure to relay it to him as
soon as he gets back."  Matthew smiled a smile without warmth and
Simon felt a chill run down his spine.

"I see," Simon sighed.  "Okay, tell Blair that his father is ill
and that he is needed back home."

"Certainly."

"Thank you.  Have a nice day, now."

"You, too, Captain."

Simon got back into his car.  Now, he was worried.  "You people
think of everything, don't you?"  he grumbled, staring at the two
men at the gate.  An even more distressing thought came to him. 
Their original plan had called for Blair to just get up and leave
at the end of a week.  Simon had been certain that the group
would not try to make him stay and risk legal troubles of their
own.  Now, however, he wondered.  Would Blair be allowed to
leave?  Did anyone ever just walk away?  Would they allow that? 
Simon headed back to Cascade, his mind reeling, his heart heavy. 
He had made a terrible mistake.  He knew that but he knew it too
late.  And it would be Sandburg who would be paying the price. 
"Jim is not going to be happy."

_________________________________________________________________

Chapter 4

Jim paced in front of his captain's office door.  He knew even
before the elevator doors opened that Banks was inside and that
his guide was not.  He smelled cigars but he did not smell the
familiar herbal shampoo he associated with Blair.  "Where is he?"
he demanded, nearly running into his captain.

"They said he was off on some meditation retreat in the
mountains.  He left this morning."

"You don't believe that," Jim accused.

"No, I don't but what was I supposed to do?"

"Ask to search the grounds!"  Jim shouted.  All eyes in the
bullpen focused on the two men.

Simon forced himself to remain calm.  "And they would have either
said no and I had no warrant or they would have said yes and
spirited Sandburg off somewhere until they could get rid of me."

"Damn it!  What now?"


"We wait until Sandburg makes his move.  In one week, he'll come
strolling out of there as planned."

"You don't really believe that either."

"I'm trying to," Simon whispered.
__________________________________________________________

Brother Matthew made his way through the camp, looking for a
particular bouncy blond.  He spotted her with her new group of
recruits and her back-up, John, Kathy, Lisa and Steve.  He
glanced over her new faces trying to determine which one was
Blair Sandburg.  Mr. Sandburg seemed to be quite popular with the
police and Matthew wanted to know why.  "Sister Amy, could I
speak with you for a moment?"  He touched the girl on the
shoulder.

"Sure, Brother Matthew."  She excused herself and walked away a
few steps.

"Which one is Blair Sandburg?" he asked.

Amy glanced over her shoulder.  "The one next to Kathy.  Long
brown hair, blue eyes.  Why?"

"Our new brother is apparently well acquainted with the police. 
Two police officers have been here looking for him.  One last
night claimed to be his brother and one this morning with a
message that his father was ill."

"You think Blair's a criminal?"

"No, I don't think so.  If that were the case, they would have
grounds for a warrant.  Obviously, they don't have a warrant. 
One snuck onto the property and the other drove up to the gate
with his message then left."

"A cop, then?"

"Amy, look at him.  I don't hardly think so.  If he is, then he's
the best undercover cop I have ever seen in my life.  Maybe he
really is a cop's brother with a sick father but I still don't
like the police snooping around. I'll have to talk to Mother and
Father about this."  He started to walk away but Amy's hand on
his arm stopped him.

"Brother Matthew, I just remembered something.  Did you say that
Blair's *father* was ill?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because Blair told John last night that he didn't have a father. 
Didn't even know who the man might be."


"Oh, really?"  Matthew looked hard at this Blair Sandburg.  "This
just gets more interesting, doesn't it?"

_______________________________________________________________

Blair knew that they were talking about him.  He saw Amy look at
him several times then he saw the measuring stare the blond man
leveled at him.  When Amy rejoined the group, he tried to smile
at her.  "Anything wrong?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh, no."  she waved the question off.  "However, I do believe
that it is your turn to share.  Tell us about yourself, Blair."

"I'd really rather not.  There's not much to tell."

"I don't believe you, Blair," Kathy said, teasingly.  She touched
the end of his nose with her fingernail.  Blair pulled back. 
"Tell us about your life, please."

A chorus of "pleases" followed and Blair held up his hands to
silence them.  One story of one trip could not hurt so he began. 
"I'm a graduate student in anthropology..."

_____________________________________________________________

Hours later as Blair sat trying not to listen to an overzealous
lecturer talk about the *state of the world today*, he realized
that they had managed to wring out of him more information in
their little group session than Jim had in three years.  It was
disconcerting.  They knew about his childhood, his mom, his lack
of a father, the communes where he and his mom lived at various
times, his mom's very social social life, the constant moving
around, the lack of close friends, everything.  What was more, he
had told them about his fear of trust and commitment and his
nagging insecurities in the process.  *Not fair,* he thought
angrily.  He had not wanted them to know all that stuff.  He had
not meant to tell them.  They seemed to pull it out of him,
making him say what he did not even realize he felt until he said
it.  He shook his head to clear it.  Kathy instantly touched his
hair, pushing it out of his eyes.  He swallowed hard and tried to
smile at her.  It was not convincing.  He was very hot and very
uncomfortable.  He stood.  She stood with him but before either
of them could say anything someone in the back of the room
shouted out.

"They're here!  Mother and Father are here."

Chaos and commotion ensued as everyone cheered and scrambled for
a view of the two people entering the back of the building. 
Shouts of "Welcome home!" hurt Blair's ears and he watched
solemnly as the man and woman moved to the platform in the front
of the room.  The lecturer moved aside for them.  They were both
dressed in flowing white robes.  Father Isaac, Blair guessed, was
about 40 to 45, dark hair greying at his temples and brown eyes.
Mother Ruth was about the same age with sandy brown hair and
hazel eyes.  Not remarkable by any standards in Blair's opinion. 
They were pretty ordinary.  That is until Father Isaac began to
speak.  His voice commanded attention.  He captured his audience.

"Children, you make us proud."  The room was instantly silent and
everyone dropped back into their seats.  Kathy pulled Blair down
with her.  "Because of your efforts, Mother and I were able to
save many lives on our trip abroad.  And now we are happy to be
back among you."

Blair had to force himself to tune Father's voice out of his
head.  Everyone in the room was enraptured by the man as he
continued to speak.  Blair began to recite pieces of his
anthropology lectures in his head to keep from being drawn in. 
He'd already let that happen with the group.  Too many more slip-
ups and he'd be in serious trouble.  Blair was going over
courting and marriage rituals of the tribes of the Amazon basin
in his mind and therefore did not immediately notice that at
least one other person in the room was not so engaged in Father's
speech to the exclusion of all else.  Instead, this person was so
engaged in an examination of Blair himself that she probably had
not heard word one of the oratory.  

_________________________________________________________________

Mother Ruth stared at the young man sitting between Sister Amy
and Sister-*what's her name?* she thought.  *Never mind.* 
Dismissing the two girls from her mind, she looked the man over. 
His curly long hair and startling blue eyes brought a predatory
smile to her face.  She moved across the platform to get a closer
look.  He had not noticed her attention.  As a matter of fact, he
did not seem to be noticing much of anything.  His eyes had a
faraway look and his brow furrowed occasionally as if he were
trying to remember something.  *He's not listening to Isaac,* 
she realized.  He was new and apparently stubborn but that would
change.  Sooner rather than later, she hoped.  She would hate to
have him taken to the chapel for purification.  She would rather
have him brought to her for that.  If he continued to resist,
however, he would have to be purified the hard way.  Then he
would be brought to her.  *One way or another,* she thought
happily, *I'll have that boy.*  He looked up at her then almost
as if he had heard her thoughts and her breath caught as those
incredible eyes met hers.  She smiled sweetly and turned away.

_____________________________________________________________

*What was that about?*  Blair was worried.  She was looking at
him like-- *Like I was lunch,* he thought, fear creeping up on
him.  His lunch was already gone, speaking of which.  Half a
sandwich and some chips did not go far.  His stomach growled. 
*Oh well, back to anthro lectures,* he sighed inwardly and
returned to Amazon tribal laws.


__________________________________________________________

By day three of this routine, he ran out of lectures.  *Day
four,* he thought, *Just a few more days.*

Was it his imagination or was this entire discussion geared to
make him uncomfortable?  Blair wondered as in turn Lisa, Amy,
Kathy, Steve and John spoke about abandonment.  He'd felt
abandoned each time one of Naomi's boyfriends left.  Then they
spoke of insecurity.  No place had ever felt like home to Blair
because he knew it would not be for long.  Trust.  Blair knew
better than to trust people.  Well, except for Jim.  He could
trust Jim.  He started to relax a little at that thought.  Then
came commitment.  Steve could never commit.  He used women and
walked away until he came to the church.  Lisa said she was used
all the time by guys like Steve.  Whirlwind romances rarely over
a month long then quick and harsh goodbyes.  Blair thought back. 
When was his last serious relationship?  He could not think. 
Okay, one that lasted more than a month.  Nothing.  His momentary
comfort  was gone.  Did he hear someone say illegitimate?  His
head snapped up to look at Steve.  His father left before he was
born, he said.  His parents never married. He was called names
and teased by other children.  Adults called his mother names and
ostracized them both.  Blair felt the tremor run through his
body.  He could not stop it.  He raised a shaking hand to his
head and pushed his hair from his face.  He stared then at the
shaking hand.

"Blair?"  Amy's voice entered his consciousness.  Her hand
touched his thigh.  John reached for him, too.  The next thing he
understood was that he was standing and backing away.  They were
up, too.  Except for the other two new people, Jason and Carol,
he thought their names were.  They said nothing and they did not
move.  His attention turned back to the people Blair had decided
were his tormentors.  Amy, Kathy, Lisa, John, and Steve.

"I'm leaving now," he told them, his voice shaking.  He held up
one hand to warn them off as he backed away.  They were
following.  "Don't!"  He knew the order would do no good.  He
turned and ran.  He knew they were behind him.  He could hear
them calling his name.  *Jim, are you out there?* he thought
frantically.  There were more people now, coming at him from all
sides.  He slipped by one and kept going but they were trying to
encircle him and then they had.  The circle was tightening. 
Blair's body froze, but his mind was racing.  His heart pounded
hard in his chest and he felt dizzy.  *What do you expect,
stupid?  No food, no sleep and engaged in a footrace,* his mind
screamed at him.  The circle closed in on him and hands touched
him.  "Jim!"  He slipped to the ground, unconscious.

________________________________________________________________

Outside the compound, Jim Ellison stiffened.  Simon grabbed his
arm.  "Blair!" the man screamed and pulled his arm from his
captain's grip.  In a instant, he was out of the car and running
for the fence.

"Ellison, no!"  Banks ran after him.

"He's in trouble, Simon."

"So are you if you cross that fence.  You've already got one
charge over your head."  Banks caught up with the detective and
spun him around.  

"Let go, Simon."

"I can't do that, Jim."

"He's in there alone.  He's in trouble.  Let me go."

"So you can do what?  Trespass on private property, beat up
anyone you come across, kidnap Blair and become a wanted
fugitive?"

"Then why are we here, Simon?  If my hands are tied, why are we
here?"

"I was hoping he'd just come out of there.  Jim, you know we
can't go in there."

Ellison's anguish showed in his ice-blue eyes.  "He called out
for me, Simon.  I heard it.  I was listening for him.  I filtered
out other voices but I couldn't find his, not for a while.  I
guess he wasn't talking.  Then I heard him.  Just one word,
Simon.  Just one: Jim.  You don't know what I heard in that one
word.  Panic, pain, desperation, fear, and hope all wrapped up in 
my name."

Simon closed his eyes to hold back the tears that threatened. 
When he opened them again, Detective James Ellison was on his
knees not bothering to hold back his tears.

______________________________________________________________

The first thing Blair was aware of was that he was lying down. 
The second thing was that there were hands on him.  All over him. 
Immediately, he began to struggle.  His eyes opened to see Amy
and her band of torturers closest to him, touching him.  But they
were not the only ones.  There were others, all with their hands
on him, holding him, chanting something too low for him to make
out.  He intensified his struggle.  They tightened their hold. 
"Let me go," he demanded, his voice somehow stronger than he
felt.  Yet, they did not let go.  Instead, Amy moved up to his
head, her hands stroking and holding his head.  "Let me go!" he
repeated.  "You can't keep me here!" The chant continued.  "Jim!"
he screamed.  He jerked his head violently, trying to dislodge
Amy's hands.  Her contact was broken only momentarily, then it
was back firmer than before.  "Don't touch me!  Let me go.  God,
please, let me go!  I can't stand it!  Stop!  Be quiet!"  Blair
felt his control disintegrating.  He thought he would shatter any
minute, the panic attack becoming full-blown.  He was
hyperventilating.  His arms and legs began to tingle.  He felt
the tears fill his eyes and slide down the side of his face and
into his hair.  "No more.  Please," he sobbed.  His head was
tingling.  Black spots danced before his tear-filled eyes. 
Slowly the dots connected and grew until blackness consumed his
vision and his body relaxed.  He was swept into the darkness.

___________________________________________________________

"Brother Matthew, please take Brother Blair to the chapel.  I
fear he is in need of special purification."  Mother Ruth came
forward to stand near Blair's unconscious form.

"Yes, Mother."  Matthew shooed the others away from the man and
lifted him from the picnic table where they had placed after his
escape attempt and subsequent fainting spell.  He carried the
young man, following along behind Mother Ruth.  Joshua joined
them.  Blair's *special purification* would fall to them.  He had
seen this coming.  When Mother first caught sight of Blair, he
had seen the look she gave him.  Then when he had spoken to
Mother Ruth and Father Isaac about the events surrounding Blair's
presence in the camp, he'd been told that extra effort should be
made to ensure Blair's devotion to the church.  That way, Isaac
had said, even if he was a cop, it would not matter.  A convert
was a convert, after all.  The young man had lasted longer than
most.  Four days before his first breakthrough, or rather
breakdown.  Matthew smiled.  The young man did not stand a
chance.  From the chapel and his *special purification*, Blair
Sandburg would go directly to Mother Ruth.

______________________________________________________________

Simon glanced over to the passenger side of his car.  There, Jim
Ellison sat, staring straight ahead, jaw clenched so hard that
Simon expected to hear his teeth shatter.  He had thought that he
was going to have to handcuff Jim and bodily place him in the car
to get him to leave the perimeter of the camp where Blair was--
*well, God knows what was happening to Blair Sandburg in there.* 
Simon swallowed hard at the thought.  He pulled into his parking
space in the station garage.  "Jim..."

Ellison got out of the car before Simon could say anything more. 
He slammed the car door and walked away.  Simon put his head on
the steering wheel and let him go.

_____________________________________________________________

"Detective Ellison," Judith Mills greeted him stiffly as she
entered her sitting room where Jim was waiting.  "I hope you have
good news for me."

"No, actually I need some information from you."

"Detective, I am a very busy woman.  Perhaps you should have
called ahead for an appointment."  She poured herself a drink.

"Ms. Mills, I have neither the time nor the patience for power
plays.  You will talk to me."  Jim moved to stand closer to her. 
Blair had always told him that his aura could be very
intimidating, especially when he stood very close.  If Blair was
right, he meant to use that to his advantage.

She looked stunned then angry.  "You have no right--"   She moved
back until her leg bumped a table.

"I have every right.  My partner was sent into that cult and now
he's in trouble."  Jim advanced on her again.

"Partner?  You mean that little hippie who came here with you?" 
Disdain was clearly written on her face.

"You self-centered--"  Jim stopped himself.  He began again. 
"Ms. Mills, Blair Sandburg is a civilian police observer.  He
should not have been placed in this situation.  It was his very
appearance that made the department choose him.  Now he needs
help."

"How does that concern me?" she snapped.  "Good day, Detective." 
She skirted around him and moved quickly toward the door.

Jim crossed the floor and cut her off.  "Ms. Mills, I intend to
get some answers.  Now whether I get them here or at the station
does not matter to me.  I would imagine that it does matter to
you, however, especially since I will make it a point to phone
the press on the way into the station so they'll be sure to get
pictures."

Absolute fury glowed in the woman's eyes but she sighed in
resignation.  "What can I tell you?"

"Tell me how you got David out of the cult."

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

Blair hung his head and cried.  His long curls, damp with sweat
and tears, hid his face.  He was tied to a chair.  His wrists
burned and his shoulders were numb.  Brother Matthew and Brother
Joshua circled him, constantly asking questions he did not know
the correct answers to.  Who loved him?  Jim, he answered.  A
touch on his neck and a surge of electricity through his body
told him he was wrong again.  He had tried Naomi, his mother
first.  He stuck with that one for a while even though that, too,
had apparently been wrong.  His grandmother?  The one that had
planned his bar mitzvah.  Wrong.  Then Jim.  *I think Jim loves
me,* he thought.  They really did not like that answer.  Matthew
asked if Jim was his brother.  Blair answered that he did not
have a brother.  That seemed to make them even madder.  Who is
Jim?  Blair did not answer.  More pain.  Who loves you?  Nobody. 
Maybe that was right.  A sob tore through him and his tears
blurred his vision to vague color, taking away all concept of
shape or form.  He did not want to see Matthew and Joshua anyway.

"You're wrong, Blair.  Mother Ruth and Father Isaac love you,"
Matthew whispered.  Blair raised his head to meet Matthew's eyes. 
Matthew bent down to Blair's level.  "But to be worthy of that
love, you have to reject your former life.  Throw Satan out of
your life, Blair.  Purge your soul of this Jim and your earthly
family."

"No." Blair said, defiantly.  Fire ran through him.

"Oh, you will, Blair.  It's your only salvation.  Nothing and no
one else can save you now.  You know that, don't you, Blair.  Who
can save you now?"

"Jim," Blair whispered softly and closed his eyes against the
pain he knew would come.

_____________________________________________________________

Her office door opened and she raised her head from her book to
meet the eyes of the man entering.  Tall, muscular, very short
brown hair, about 35 to 37, all business, pomp and rigidity.  She
smiled at the stranger.

"I'm looking for Brandon MacDonald," he announced.

"Brandon?"  she asked.

"Yes."

"Sorry, wrong office.  No Brandon, here."

"This isn't Dr. MacDonald's office?" he inquired.

"I'm a Dr. MacDonald.  My brother is another Dr. MacDonald but
neither of us is a Brandon.  Are you sure you have the name
correct?  People do tend to massacre our names."

"Hell, I don't know."  Defeat flickered in the sharp blue eyes.

She saw it and kicked into her *psychologist mode*, as Brendon
called it.  "Why don't you sit down?"

He did not move to do so.  "I don't need a psychologist.  I need
Brandon Ryan MacDonald."

She laughed softly.  *Oh, Deary, you could use a few sessions,
but you'll never admit it so...* She turned her thoughts back to
things she might actually be able to do.

He looked at her sharply.

"I'm sorry.  I think we are talking about a case of name butchery
here.  Either mine or my brother's.  I think you are in the right
place after all and more than likely, you're looking for me.  My
name's closest."  She stood and held out her hand to him.  He
took it.  "I'm Dr. Branwyn Rhiannon MacDonald.  My brother is
Brendon Ian MacDonald, also a doctor of Psychology, by the way. 
Our father is very proud of his heritage, Scot and Celt.  Direct
descendants of Alasdair and Sarah MacDonald of Glencoe.  Hence
the names that tend to be transmuted into the more mundane like
Brandon and Ryan."

"Detective James Ellison."

She blinked and the open friendly smile was gone.  Her facial
expression became blank.  "What can I do for you, Detective?"

"I got your name from a reliable source."

"Or rather, something resembling my name."  She half-smiled.

"Whatever.  I need your expertise."

"I'm not following you.  You said you didn't need a
psychologist."

"No.  I need a snatcher.  A deprogrammer.  I think that's what
you're called."  Ellison's tone was matter-of-fact.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Detective."  Her tone
matched his.

"Yes, you do, Dr. MacDonald.  You know exactly what I'm talking
about and I need your help."

"Detective, given your position in law enforcement, you must know
that what you are talking about is against the law.  Surely, you
are not suggesting that I am engaged in any illegal activity or
that I should help you to do so."  Her voice was perfectly even.  

Jim listened to her heartbeat and monitored her body temperature. 
Was it possible?  No changes in either.  Could she be telling the
truth?  No, he had seen a change in her when he introduced
himself.  She was so practiced at this denial that there was no
reaction.  "Dr. MacDonald, this concerns my partner.  He went in
undercover to investigate 'The Children of the Saviors' and I'm
afraid he's in trouble."  Was there a flicker of something in her
eyes?  No change in heart rate, he noted.

"I'm sorry, Detective Ellison, but I'm afraid you are not in the
right place after all."

"Your brother, then--"

"No." she said just a little too quickly, they both realized. 
"Brendon is not your deprogrammer either, I'm afraid.  Look, we
are psychologists.  Both of us and while we have in the past
counseled former cult members, we are not, I repeat, are *not*
snatchers or deprogrammers."

"I don't believe you, Dr. MacDonald."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Detective.  Nevertheless, I can't help
you."

"Can't or won't?"

"Have a nice day, sir.  I trust you can find your way out."  She
looked proudly defiant as she sat in her chair and picked up her
book.

Jim's temper flared and before reason could intervene, he charged
the woman's desk.  One hand slammed onto the desk pad in the
middle of the desk while the other snatched the book from her
hands and flung it across the office.  "Look, Lady--"  he began
but was stopped in an instant.

Branwyn MacDonald was standing before her book hit the wall.  One
hand reached up and pulled at something in her hair.  Jim found
that something at his throat.  "No, you look.  I will not be
intimidated, detective.  I will not be manhandled.  You will
leave."  Her auburn hair was falling around her face, freed from
the object that was pricking at his neck.  Her near-black eyes
flashed with rage and determination.

Jim took a step back, removing his hand from her desk.  He
happened a glance at the object in her hand, a heavy brass comb
with five apparently sharp points, the longest a good three
inches long.  "Do you always wear weapons in your hair?"

"Do you always attack female psychologists in their own offices?" 
she shot back.

"What the hell is going on here?"  A male voice drew their
attention from their standoff.  A man about Blair's age, perhaps
a few years old, stood in the doorway.  His long brown hair with
hints of red and brown eyes identified him for Jim even before
the woman spoke.

"It's all right, Brendon.  The *detective* was just leaving."

"Detective?"  Brendon MacDonald picked up on the word
immediately.  "Are you all right, Wyn?"  He glared at Jim as he
moved into the office and around the desk to his sister's side.

"I'm fine."

"I could arrest you for hindering an investigation, threatening a
police officer, and carrying a concealed weapon."  Jim's head
motioned to indicate the comb she still held ready in her hand.

"I don't think you will because then you would have to explain
your actions here as well."

"This is not over, Dr. MacDonald."  Jim's anger was creeping back
up on him again, the shock of her quick defense wearing off.

"It had better be, Detective.  I'd hate to have to file a
complaint with your department for harassment.  That's what will
happen if you harass my sister again,"  Brendon warned.

"Have a nice day," Jim grumbled.

When he was gone, Branwyn MacDonald, known to people she counted
as friends as Wyn, released the breath she was holding and sat
heavily in her chair.  "We have trouble, Brother Dear."

"No kidding."  Brendon sat on top of her desk.  "How much
trouble?"

"I don't know.  I'll give you one guess who gave him my name."

"I give."

"One hint then.  He was looking for Brandon MacDonald."

"Judith Mills."

"Yep, she never did get either of our names right.  And why
should she, Ms. So-Very-Much-Better-Than-You-People."

"I knew she would be trouble someday.  But the cops?  Why would
she tell the cops?  We got her nephew out.  We got him rewired. 
He's clear.  A little therapy and he'll be good as new.  Well,
better actually, since I'm sure he was a spoiled brat before and
I'm gonna be sure that he's not when I'm finished."

"I have no idea, Bren, but here it is, our worst nightmare."

"What did he say?"

"His partner was undercover in 'The Children of the Saviors' and
he needed our help to pull him out."

"Wait, he acknowledged that he was a cop then came out and asked
straight out for our kind of help?"

"Yeah."

"Why?  Even if there were some suspicions or even charges
pending, he has to know that that would be entrapment or
something, right?  Our lawyer would eat the Cascade PD for lunch. 
So why?"

"I don't know unless he was serious."  Wyn rubbed her temples
against the oncoming headache. "Besides, who would be charging us
anyway?  Like you said, David Harper is clear.  Judith Mills
wouldn't press charges no matter how self-centered she is.  She
got what she wanted.  None of our other clients would to such a
thing for the same reasons."

"What do we do?"

"Stay away from Detective Ellison."

"What about his partner?  If this is legit, can we walk away like
that?  You know what those people are like.  You know what they
did to me.  What Mother Ruth did to me.  If it weren't for you,
I'd still be there or dead or insane."

"Bren, if this guy's a cop, I doubt very seriously he's Mother's
type.  She hates macho.  She likes quiet beauties like you with
brains."

"No matter how much she scrambles those brains," Brendon
muttered, bitterly.  His sister touched his knee.  He looked at
her and she smiled.  He tried to return the smile but his attempt
fell short.  His eyes were clouded by visions from the past and
kept the smile from being true.

_____________________________________________________________

"Okay."  Jim cranked his truck.  "Let's see if you can turn away
when you see Blair."  He had utilized his Sentinel hearing and
heard every word of their exchange.  He was planning his next
move as he drove out of the parking lot.

________________________________________________________________

Chapter 5

Wyn stretched as she walked to her front door.  It was very
early.  *This had better be good,* she thought, pulling her robe
closed around her.  The knock came again.  "All right!  I said,
I'm coming.  Who is it?"

"Dr. MacDonald, this is the police.  Open the door, ma'am."

She stopped mid-step.  "Ellison, you son-of-a-bitch," she swore
under her breath.  "I hate you."  She continued to the door.  She
slid the chain off and flipped the deadbolt and the lock on the
doorknob and moved back from the door.  "Come in."

Two uniformed officers entered, Jim Ellison was behind them. 
Ellison met her eyes.  Her fury burned two holes in him and he
looked down at the paper in his hands.  The uniforms moved to
her, flanking her as Ellison began to speak.  "Dr.  Branwyn
Rhiannon MacDonald?"

"You know that to be so, Detective.  Don't play stupid games with
me."

"Dr. MacDonald," he continued, "you are under arrest for
conspiracy to commit kidnapping, kidnapping, unlawful
imprisonment, attempted assault of a police officer, carrying a
concealed weapon, and hindering an official investigation."

"Funny you should mention that unlawful imprisonment thing. 
Since that's what my lawyer is gonna hit you with before this day
is through."

He ignored her.  "You have the right to remain silent.  Anything
you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.  You
have the right to an attorney.  If you can not--"

"Oh, save it, Detective.  We both know that this is a scare
tactic.  Who was kidnapped, Ellison?"

"Afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you free of charge. 
Do you understand what I have told you?"

"Sure.  Do you understand that my lawyer is going to eat you for
lunch?"

Again, he ignored her outwardly.  Inwardly, he marveled at how
much she reminded him of Blair.  That last remark was classic
Sandburg Smart Ass Comments 101.  "Your brother is being taken
into custody as we speak, in case you're wondering."

"Actually, I was wondering if you were going to allow me to get
dressed or if you were going to give yourself and your colleagues
a cheap thrill by dragging me into the station in this."  She
released her robe and the front fell open to reveal a short
velvet and lace nightgown that fell about mid-thigh.

Jim turned away.  "Please get dressed, Dr. MacDonald.  Winslow,
make sure there are no exits out of the bedroom and wait outside
the door."

Officer Winslow, a young blond rookie nodded his head and started
down the hallway.  Wyn stared at the detective in front of her. 
"Yeah, I guess I should get dressed.  Wouldn't want to start a
riot right there in the police station.  Aren't you going to
watch?"

Jim rolled his eyes and shifted on his feet.  She was making him
uncomfortable.

*Good,* she thought fiercely.

"Dr. MacDonald, you can get dressed now," Winslow called up the
hallway.

"Maybe he'll want to watch."  She smiled evilly at Jim then
sauntered down the hall.

"And I thought Judith Mills was a bitch," Jim whispered a little
too loudly.

"I heard that."

"Figures."

_____________________________________________________________

A short while later, Wyn sat in one of the interrogation rooms of
the Major Crimes Division, a disgusted look on her face.  She
stared unblinking at James Ellison across the table.  Neither of
them spoke.  She was too angry.  He was not sure how to proceed. 
A tall black man entered the room and sat next to Ellison.

"What now, Jim?  The brother's called their lawyer."  The black
man eyed her as he spoke to the detective.

Jim nodded but said nothing.

"Who are you?" Wyn demanded.

"Captain Simon Banks."

"Are you his CO?"

"Yes."

"Are you aware of the circumstances here?"

"Yes, Dr. MacDonald, I am."

"Have you both gone crazy?"

"Dr. MacDonald, if you are asking if we realize that we have put
our careers in jeopardy.  Yes, we do.  Do we know that what we
are proposing is even more illegal that our arrest of you and
your brother?   Yes, we do.  We--I made a mistake and one of my
men is paying for it."  He looked at the tired, defeated look on
Jim's face.  "Correction, two of my men are paying for it."

Ellison swallowed and blinked his steel blue eyes slowly.

Wyn looked from one man to the other.  "Captain Banks, surely you
realize that even if I were involved in such activity, I would
not be inclined to say so, especially here, in a police station. 
As it stands, however, I am not involved in-"

"Stop it!"  Jim stood abruptly, knocking over his chair.  "I know
you're lying.  I don't know how you do it so well.  Even Blair's
not as smooth as you, but I know you're lying."  He opened the
folder in front of him and pushed the contents across the table
at her.  "Look at him."

Wyn's heart jumped into her throat.  She affixed her gaze on the
wall behind Ellison's head.

"Look at him!"

"Jim."  Simon touched his arm.

"She has to look at him, Simon.  Dr. MacDonald, it's a picture of
my partner. I had to look everywhere for this particular picture. 
His mother took it."

Simon looked down at the picture himself.  It was a good one. 
Sandburg had his glasses on.  They made him look at the same time
both young and scholarly.  Naomi had obviously caught the young
man working, sitting cross-legged on the sofa in the loft, a book
in his lap, his long hair haloing his head.  Apparently, she'd
called to him and snapped the picture as he looked up, catching
his innocent smile and expressive eyes at precisely the right
moment.  Either she or Jim had had it enlarged as well.  It was a
great picture.  One to melt hearts.  One to melt this one heart
of this one woman.  If it could not, then nothing would.  The
door opened and Simon looked up to see the brother and another
man enter.

"Please, Dr. MacDonald."  Ellison's voice fell to a pleading
whisper.  She did not move.  He pushed the picture closer.

The stranger came forward.  "My client does not want to see your
picture, Officer."

Brendon MacDonald stepped up to the table, however, and picked up
the picture.  "This guy's a cop?" he asked incredulously.

"No, he's a civilian observer.  He had the right look and he was
the right age. He's a graduate student at the University in
Anthropology.  He was willing to do this because he said it would
make an interesting paper," Simon explained, solemnly.

"He's not a cop?"  the female MacDonald finally spoke.

"Dr. MacDonald, perhaps we should be going.  I've established
that there are no legitimate charges here," the lawyer told her.

"No, he's not," Jim answered the woman and ignored the man.

"Wyn, let's go."

"Dr. MacDonald, please, look at the picture."

Wyn looked to her brother.  He shook his head, sadly.  "Give me
the picture, Bren."

"You don't want to see it."

"Give me the picture," she repeated.

He did not have a chance to respond.  Jim snatched the picture
from his hands and shoved it into hers.

Her eyes widened at the image and she drew a sharp breath.  "My
god, Bren, he reminds me of you," she whispered.

"I knew he would," her brother acknowledged.

She raised her eyes to Jim's.  "You knew.  How did you know? You
knew I couldn't say no if I saw this picture.  This face."

"I was hoping.  I didn't know but I was hoping the picture would
make him real to you and you'd help him," Jim replied, not
entirely honestly, not entirely dishonestly either.

"Bill, you can go now," she said quietly to the lawyer.

"Branwyn, I don't think that this is a very good idea."

"Bill, how did we meet?"

The man sighed.  "You know how we met.  It's the same reason I'm
here now.  Please, don't invite this in on yourself."

"Bill, how did we meet?"

"You pulled my daughter, Heather out of Rev. Moon's church."

"Yes, I did.  And what was your job at the time?"

"Assistant District Attorney, Los Angeles County."

"So I think this scene is somewhat familiar to you."

"If you need me, all you have to do is call," he told her,
resignation in his voice.  He left.  Brendon MacDonald pulled out
a chair and sat.

"So much for my macho cop theory," Wyn whispered to her brother.

"What now?" he whispered back.

"Now we explain but hopefully not here."

"Here will be fine," Ellison spoke.

"Detective, I'm sure you can understand that we would not be
comfortable having this discussion you want to have here."

"God, Lady, you are so patronizing with that tone and the way you
word things," Jim complained.

"I'm a psychologist, Detective.  My tone and my careful wording
come in handy with my clients," she pointed out.

"I'm not one of your clients."  he snarled.

"With that temper, maybe you should be."  Brendon sat up
straighter to put his body between his sister and the irate man. 
An uneasy silence followed.

Captain Banks broke it.  "Let's get down to the business at hand. 
Dr. MacDonald, Blair is one of our own, regardless of his
official status.  Most everyone here likes the kid.  You are
perfectly safe to say what you need to here.  No one here will
use it against you later, I assure you."

"Very well.  First and foremost, you have some misconceptions
about what we do.  We are not snatchers in the strictest sense of
the word.  We do not kidnap anybody.  However, I am an
infiltrator.  I go into the cults, find our target, and insinuate
myself in their routine.  The objective here being to set them up
for the snatch.  Brendon is the deprogrammer.  I help with that,
too, but really it's primarily his area of expertise.  As far as
the actual snatch, I'll set it up but you have to pull it off. 
That's where those friends of his come in.  You'll need a plain,
nondescript as possible, van.  Rent it, borrow it, hell, you're
cops, commandeer it.  Remove the license plate.  Get at least
four people.  One to drive, three to grab him and hold on to him. 
Four is minimum, more is better.  I'll get word to you through
Brendon when and where to pick him up.  Don't take him home or to
any of your own houses.  No family either.  Those are the first
places they will look.  Instead, someplace obscure, out of the
way and untraceable to one of you.  Actually, being cops, you
guys could slow the investigation down, mislead it a little and
buy us time.  Not you, Ellison.  You realize that you are going
to be the number one suspect.  But you, Captain Banks, you could
play the horrified, indignant captain while slowing down paper
work and misdirecting attentions here and there.  Once you get
him to us, step back.  Do not interfere.  He's ours to deal with
until we say differently.  You have to realize that he's been
told that you're all evil.  Everyone outside the cult is a minion
of Satan.  Everyone from his former life is trying to damn his
soul for Satan.  In other words, don't expect a friendly
greeting."

"You're talking like he's already been indoctrinated.  We don't
know that for sure, you know," Jim told her.

"How long has he been inside?" Brendon asked.

"Five days," Banks answered.

"He's indoctrinated.  Or at least you'd better hope so."  Brendon
sat back in his chair.

"What's that mean?"  Jim was alarmed.

"If he's resisting after five days, then he's probably been taken
to the chapel," Brendon said, more to his sister than the others
around the table.

She nodded.  "Detective, we are familiar with this group. 
Intimately familiar.  I already have an established persona in
the group so infiltration will be simple.  This group has no
qualms about using physical torture to break anyone who resists
for too long.  Particularly if the person is male and has caught
Mother Ruth's attention."

"Oh, god."  Ellison put his head in his hands.  "That's not the
first time I've heard this about this Ruth person.  What does it
mean?"

"You don't want to know," Brendon answered.

"Yes, I do.  Tell me."

"Mother and Father use the church members, or rather some of
them, for more than a sales force to make them money.  Certain
ones are chosen for certain attributes to be the personal play
toys of the *Saviors*.  Father likes tall, leggy blonds.  That
means I'm safe at five foot three and red-headed.  Mother likes
intellectuals, artists, men more apt to be described as beautiful
than macho.  She likes long hair and fine features.  Like your
friend.  Like my brother." 

Jim was not surprised.  He had already discerned this information
from the discussion he overheard but Simon swore softly.  Brendon
noticed.  "That's right, captain.  My sister saved me from those
people a long time ago.  I was one of Mother's boys.  I was so
far gone that I almost turned her in when I figured out she
wasn't there to join my church."

Ellison looked at Branwyn for answers.

She gave them.  "I didn't wake up one morning and say to myself,
'I think I want to spend my life deprogramming cult members,'
Detective.  All of us in this business started out either in my
position or Brendon's."  She let that sink in for a moment. 
"Now, there are some things I need to know about your friend. 
Like maybe his full name.  I caught Blair earlier."

"Sandburg."

"Jewish?"

"Sort of.  Non-practicing, actually."

"Okay, tell me about his parents."

"His mother, Naomi was a hippie flower child.  Hell, she still
is.  A lot of new-age ideas.  She raised him on her own.  They
moved around a lot.  Blair doesn't know his father.  He told me
once that there might be several candidates but Naomi never told
him anything about any of them."

Wyn's face showed her shock and puzzlement.  "Relationships with
women?"

"Blair's a ladies man.  I can't keep up with all his
girlfriends."  Jim was smiling.

Wyn frowned.  "So no serious relationship that I should know
about?"

"No, I don't think so.  Most of his relationships are short-
lived."

"His friends?"

"He's got friends.  Here at the station, at the University."

"Close friends?  People he depends on, trusts."

"Me," Jim answered simply.

"You?  Just you?"

"I don't know.  He doesn't share that much about himself, you
know."

"No other male authority figures?"

"Simon, maybe.  And Naomi seems to attract men.  Blair has made a
few references to men his mother knew."

Wyn sighed.  Brendon took a deep breath and shook his head. 

"What?" Banks asked.

Wyn glared at them both.  "Just one more question, gentlemen. 
Did you go ahead and gift wrap him for them?  I mean, I'm sure
they would like that.  Complete with a big blue bow to match
those unbelievably innocent eyes."


Silence.

________________________________________________________________

*Jim, Jim, Jim, Sentinel, James Ellison, Detective James
Ellison,*  Blair repeated over and over like a litany in his
mind.  His Blessed Protector would find him.  Jim would save him
from Matthew the Madman and his henchman, Joshua.  The two men
still circled him, asking questions he did not bother to answer
anymore.  All his answers were wrong anyway and he refused to
listen to their alternatives.  Occasionally, his eyes would close
and an electric touch would remind him that sleep was not
acceptable.  No food came but he was given a little water now and
then.  Just enough to keep his tears and sweat from drying up. 
Just enough to keep him from dehydrating and dying.  And they
circled.  *Like vultures.*

Blair jumped involuntarily as Matthew's face came only
centimeters from his.  Matthew's hands clutched Blair's hair. 
"Do you want this to be over, Blair?"

Blair nodded as best he could while Matthew held tight to his
hair.

"Then you'll repeat after me.  Only Mother and Father love me. 
Say it, Blair."

Blair swallowed the lump in his throat.  What could it hurt? 
"Only Mother and Father love me," he choked out.

"Only Mother and Father can save me."

"Only Mother and Father can save me."

There were more words but Blair did not pay any attention to
their meaning, just their pronunciation so he could repeat them. 
Instead, he continued his litany.  *Jim, Jim, Jim,*  over and
over, silently he prayed.  *Oh, wouldn't Matthew be angry if he
only knew.*  A small smile passed quickly over Blair's lips.  So
quickly, Matthew was not sure he had seen it.  And still in
Blair's head--*Jim, Jim, Jim.*

______________________________________________________________

Branwyn MacDonald stepped off the curb, crossed the street and
stepped up on the opposite curb, and in that small space of time
and movement, Jim saw the transformation.  "Damn," he swore.

Simon unable to witness what Jim had seen with Sentinel vision,
looked puzzled.  "What?"

"I'll explain later."  Jim kept his attention on the small woman
who made her way up the walkway of the welcome center.  Jim saw
the sad smile she gave in his direction brighten as she turned
toward the house.  

"Sarah!" he heard someone shout.  Suddenly, there were people
pouring out of the house, surrounding the psychologist.  Everyone
was shouting out the name Sarah.  It fit the woman he had seen
step up on that far curb.  He had always thought of the name
Sarah as demure, pretty, open, happy, and kind.  That's what he
had seen.  Gone was Branwyn, the woman who had won his begrudging
respect over the last few days as they made the preparations she
and her brother insisted on.  The strong, confident, assertive,
and sometimes sarcastic woman was transformed somewhere in the
street into *Sarah*.  Sarah, who fit perfectly in the cult, when
Branwyn would most definitely not.  

*No wonder she can lie so easily,* he thought.  *Self-
preservation.*  Another way she was like Blair.  Blair would lie
to protect himself from harm.  *Physical and emotional.  Why
didn't I see what Wyn did?  How could I not have known about the
weapons the cult would have against my guide?* he berated
himself.  She would save Blair this time, not him.  That was the
hardest part for Jim.  This time he had to depend on someone
else, a virtual stranger, to protect his guide.  He did not doubt
her ability.  That was not the case.  He had learned a lot about
the fiery woman and he knew she knew what she was doing.  *So
like Blair,* came the unbidden thought.  Endless energy, Wyn's
more directed that Blair's, making her seem calmer, less frantic. 
Her sense of humor, she and Blair laughed at the same jokes, he
found.  And staggering intelligence.  As Blair would rattle on
about Anthropology, so Wyn did about psychology.  Their value
systems, their political ideas all were similar.  Although, Wyn
did enjoy a good greasy Wonder Burger without worrying about the
cholesterol and fat.  Jim began to wonder that perhaps if Blair
had had a more normal childhood would he have been more like Wyn. 
She was gone now, literally as well as figuratively, as the cult
members swept her into the house.  Jim sighed and refocused his
vision to normal parameters.  "I'm going to the cabin.  I want to
go over everything one more time, make sure we didn't miss
anything and that we have what we need," Jim announced to Simon.

"Jim, Brendon and Wyn went over it already.  Everything's set."

"I just need to do it once more."

Simon nodded.  *You just need to feel like you are doing
something,* Simon realized.  He could understand that.  "See you
back at the station later then."

"Sure, captain."  Jim watched Simon go then climbed into the
truck to make the trip out to the cabin.  They had been there the
day before so that Brendon and Wyn could check it out.  Jim felt
a shiver run down his spine as he remembered the things they
said.  It was secluded enough but they were worried because it
was not completely untraceable.  It belonged to a friend of Joel
Taggert.  Brendon had walked through the place and picked out the
smallest bedroom.  He proceeded then to give instructions.  They
had to board up the room's only window.  All the furniture had to
be removed.  Only the mattress could remain.  And no bedclothes.
They had even removed the curtain rods, the light fixture, the
closet door, the door knobs, and the clothes rod in the closet. 
All of those things could be used as weapons Brendon had
explained.  Jim had argued.  Blair would not hurt anybody, he had
insisted.  And leaving him without blankets and in total darkness
was just cruel.  Blair got cold and he had nightmares sometimes. 
Brendon had looked at him like he was crazy.  It was Branwyn who
explained.

________________________________________________________________

"Jim, Blair might not try to hurt you, but Brendon and I are
another story.  He doesn't know us and we will be the enemy.  I
think you should be prepared to be treated like the enemy, too. 
These people have twisted his mind, Jim.  Also, this isn't just
for our protection, it's for his.  There is a possibility that
Blair will turn a weapon on himself to try to either force us to
take him to the hospital where he can get away or to end his own
life to keep from being *taken by the Devil*."

"No, he wouldn't do that."

"Jim, yes, he would.  Cult members are instructed on various ways
to use ordinary objects to inflict wounds and bring death if
escape is impossible.  So, no curtain rods, light fixtures, light
bulbs, linens, glass of any kind.  I don't even want a ball point
pen to find its way into that room.  Comprende?"  The pained
expression on Jim's face bought a comforting hand on his shoulder
and a sympathetic smile. "We'll turn up the heat."

_______________________________________________________________

Jim returned to the present with unpleasant images in his head. 
Blair cutting himself to force Jim to take him to the hospital. 
Blair trying to hang himself in the closet with the bed sheets. 
Blair leaving him willingly to go back to the cult.  Wyn's voice
was there in his thoughts.  *This isn't going to be pleasant,
Jim.  You might not want to be here in the beginning,* she'd
said.  How could he not be there?  How could he not go back over
that room one more time, either?  No, he had to make sure.

When this was over, he would make sure that Blair got therapy. 
Brendon had told him it would be necessary.  The cult stripped a
person of his identity, his individuality, his self-worth.  Jim
could not stand it if that happened to Blair.  Brendon said he
would need help to recover and he had offered his services.  Jim
had figured that he already owed Wyn and Brendon any and all
children he would ever have.  He had asked then what he owed them
already for their services.  Wyn had laughed.  Brendon smiled and
explained that Jim need only pay the expenses.  There was no fee. 
Jim could not believe it.  The therapy costs, though, Brendon had
told him with a bigger smile.  Finally, Jim had asked about their
success rate.  Thirty seven successes and only two failures.  One
went back to the cult and the other committed suicide after
Brendon had released the man thinking he was *clear*.  Jim prayed
hard as he pulled up to the cabin.  *Please, God, make Blair
number thirty-eight.*

_________________________________________________________________
Chapter 6

"Sarah!"  Mother Ruth exclaimed, leaving the platform when her
favorite assistant entered the building.

"Mother."  The two embraced.  Over Mother's shoulder, she
searched the crowd for a pair of intense blue eyes and a wealth
of long curly brown hair.  Blair Sandburg, she concluded, was not
there.  *The chapel,* she thought, grimly.

"Come, we must talk."  Mother Ruth put her arm across Sarah's
shoulders and led her out of the building.  On the platform,
Father frowned but continued his sermon.  "What happened, Sarah?"

"My uncle again.  At least this time he didn't send me off to
Florida.  Remember last time?  It took me four months to get
back."

"Only a month this time, thank our Lord."

"Yes, thank the great Lord."

"We lost David the same day we lost you."

"Oh, no!  How terrible!"

"Satan claimed him.  He's lost to us."

"We should pray for him," Sarah said solemnly.

"Yes, we should and we should also offer our thanks to Him for
your safe return.  Come, let's go to the chapel."

*Yes, let's do,* whispered the corner of Sarah's mind where Wyn
resided.

_____________________________________________________________

Simon was amazed.  The brother and sister team had everything
planned to the last detail.  Wyn, or rather her persona, Sarah,
was so well trusted that the woman had access to every part of
the compound and her things were never searched, thus the cell
phone she managed to slip in.  Meeting places were established
where the two could talk while "Sarah" sold her books and flowers
on the street.  In case she could not get to the cell phone or
the battery went dead, they had a code worked out so that she
could call right in front of any member of the cult and still
relay information to her brother.  All was taken care of.  "Now,
we wait."  Simon said aloud to no one.  He had pulled Taggert,
Rafe, and Brown in on this.  The three men were Sandburg's
closest friends at the station besides he and Jim.  He tried not
to be anxious.  Brendon had told him that they could have to wait
several days even weeks before they got the call.  When they did
get the call, they still could have a few days. Or a few hours.
It could go either way.  It just had to work.  It just had to. 
If not, he would not just lose one friend.  He would lose two. 
Sandburg would be gone and Jim would never forgive him.

______________________________________________________________

"Where are Matthew and Joshua?" Sarah asked.  The chapel was just
ahead of them.

"Inside.  They've just completed a difficult purification. 
They're resting."

"I see.  Was it bad?"

"Oh yes.  Satan held tight to this one.  But I knew Blair was
meant to be one of God's angels.  We had to drive Satan out. 
Blair must still go through his final purification.  His mind and
soul are clean but his body needs purification."

Wyn managed to keep the disgust from Sarah's face.

"Perhaps you could begin the preparations."  Mother continued,
"Blair needs to be washed, fed, and dressed."

"Of course, Mother.  I'd be glad to aid in Brother Blair's
purification."

"I knew I could count on you.  I'm so glad that you're back,
Sarah."  Mother squeezed her close and smiled.

"Me, too."

_________________________________________________________________

Wyn opened the door where her target was supposed to be.  Mother
was gone.  Matthew and Joshua were nowhere in sight.  Just Blair
Sandburg and so Sarah faded away and she was Wyn again as she
entered the room.  He was not in the room's only chair or on the
bed.  Then she saw him and her heart leapt into her throat.  He
was huddled in the far corner of the room, almost completely
hidden behind the bed.  His arms were wrapped around his knees,
the knees drawn up to his chest.  His head down.

"Blair," she called softly.  No response came.  "Blair."  She saw
his body tense with a slight jerk.  She knelt beside him.  "I'm
not going to hurt you," she assured as she reached to touch his
tangled curls.  He jumped, a gasp coming from him.  Silently, she
cursed Mother and Matthew and the whole lot of zombies that did
this to this man.  "Shh, it's all right."  He was shaking. 
"Blair, look at me."  

He did not raise his head.  "Who are you?" came his strangled
whisper.

"My name is-" she caught herself before she answered incorrectly,
"Sarah.  Sister Sarah.  I'm here to take care of you."

"Go away."

"I can't do that, Blair.  Please look up at me so that I can see
your face."

He sighed and raised his head but did not look at her.  Instead,
he let his head rest on the wall behind him and stared out over
her.  There was a bruise on his left cheek.  Mother was not going
to be happy about that.  She always gave strict orders that her
chosen companions were not to be marked on the face.  Wyn smiled
inside when she noticed his eyes.  They were a beautiful blue,
like the last blue of the sky before the reds and oranges of
sunset cut through it.  That was not, however, what ellicited her
smile.  There was defiance in those eyes.  Blair Sandburg was not
broken.  On the contrary, he was pissed.  The smile faded quickly
though.  This meant that he was tough, strong, but it also meant
his ordeal was not over.  Mother would see that defiance, too. 
That would mean more *purification*.  "What do you want?" he
demanded.

"I'm here to help you.  I have a bath ready for you.  Some food
and some clean clothes, too."

"I'm fine right here."

"Brother Blair, you must be hungry at least."

"Don't call me that.  I'm not your brother.  You're not my
sister."

"Blair, if you don't cooperate with me, Mother Ruth will send
Matthew and Joshua to get you.  They will bathe you, force feed
you and dress you.  Is that what you want?"

The terror in his eyes cut at her heart.  "No," he said softly in
defeat.

"Thank you.  Come with me."

"You're not going to bathe me, are you?"  He waited for an
answer.


"No.  I'm just going to lead you there and wait for you in case
you do need help.  Then we'll get you some food."

"Okay."  He started to get up on his own but he stumbled, his
hand going to his head.

"Let me help."  She moved to his side and steadied him.

________________________________________________________________

Nearly an hour later, Blair sipped at the chicken broth Sarah had
given him while she combed his wet curls.  He was too tired to
protest and anyway it felt good.  They sat outside the chapel on
a wooden bench.  

"You have nice hair.  It reminds me of my brother's.  Yours is
curlier though."

"Which brother?  One of these people or your real brother?" 
Blair asked.

"What?"

"Never mind."

Sarah pushed that part of herself that was Wyn back down.  She
had not meant to say that aloud.  Wyn had said it before Sarah
could stop her.  She took a deep breath.

"Sarah, what's going to happen to me now?"

The comb stopped.  He turned to look at her.  He saw her swallow
and her eyes turned to the comb still in her hand.  "You'll go
before Mother."

"And?"  He put his bowl down on the bench they were sharing.

"Your purification will continue."

He closed his eyes as a tremor ran through him.  "More electric
shock," he whispered.

"Not with Mother," she said simply.

"What then?  Please tell me it can't get any worse," he pleaded.

She met his eyes.  A sharp breath and she whispered his name. 
Another deep breath and she continued, "You've been chosen by
Mother for a special purification ritual.  It will assure your
place with God."

"She's gonna kill me.  I'm a sacrifice or something.  Is that
what you're saying?"


"No, not that.  You will have a sacrifice something of yourself,
however."  She would not tell him.  Maybe she could not.  He
tried to read it in her eyes.  Then he did.

"Oh my God," he whispered.  "I can't do that.  I don't want to do
that."

"If you don't, she'll turn you back over to Matthew and Joshua."

"Fine!  I'd rather have that than *that*!"  He stood, upsetting
the bowl, the remainder of the broth soaking into the ground.

"I know," she whispered very softly.  "Blair, I'm sorry."

"Sarah, if you are really sorry, if you really understand how I
feel, then help me.  Get me outta here.  I don't want to be here. 
They won't let me leave.  You have to know a way."  He was on his
knees before her as he finished his plea.

"I can't do that," she choked out. *Bitch!* her mind screamed. 
*Jesus, Blair Sandburg, you are making this very hard.*  

His eyes turned cold and he stood.  "I understand.  I'm sorry. 
That wasn't fair of me to ask."  He turned away.


She sighed and stared at her feet.  Her conscience warred with
her better judgement.  Neither won.  Instead they reached a
compromise.  She stood and touched his arm.  Sarah retreated for
a moment and Wyn turned the man to face her.  Tears marked his
cheeks and she raised her fingertips to brush them away.  He
rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest, trying to
close himself off from her.  "Blair, I have an idea."  She
explained.  Mother was afraid of germs.  She would convince
Mother that Blair was ill and that would buy him some time.  She
was taking a very big chance.  If Blair broke, he could very well
tell them that she had planned with him to keep him from Mother. 
"It's just a temporary solution, you understand.  She'll still
come for you eventually."

"I'll be gone by then.  Jim'll--"  he stopped, looking at her
sharply.

"You hope someone will come for you?"  She was amazed at his
trust in Ellison, his strong conviction that Ellison would get
him out.

"I know he will."

She smiled.

_________________________________________________________________

Their ruse worked.  Mother went away without even coming close to
Blair.  When she left, however, she called Sarah with her.  Blair
was left alone.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  He knew that if
they found out Sarah helped him, she would get in trouble.  He
had promised her he would not tell.  Why would he tell these
people anything?  She came back into the room a few minutes
later.  She looked worried.  "What is it?"

"I'm supposed to stay with you tonight.  I'll be in the chair if
you need me.  Get some sleep."

"What else?"

She touched his forehead.  "You are way too perceptive, Blair.  I
won't be here tomorrow."

"Why?"  He sat up but she pushed him back down.

"The work detail is shorthanded tomorrow because several people
are on retreat.  I have to go into Cascade tomorrow to sell
flowers."

"That leaves me here with her and Matthew.  What if they figure
this out?"

"Act pitiful and she won't get close.  But Matthew, I'm not sure. 
I'm sorry, Blair.  I tried to get out of it but I couldn't be
suspicious.  Sarah-"  she cut off her sentence and began again.
"I never miss a chance to raise money for God."  

Blair did not catch the slip.  He was too worried about what
tomorrow would bring without Sarah to help him.

____________________________________________________________

"Flowers, sir?"  Sarah asked the long-haired young man who
approached her.

"Sure," he said aloud then quietly, "What's happening?"

"He's not indoctrinated as of yet.  God, Bren, he's a tough
little thing.  Matthew and Joshua were at him for almost three
full days and nights and he did not crack.  But now it's Mother's
turn.  I was able to put her off last night by claiming he was
sick."

"Does he know that?"

She hesitated.  "Yes."

"Damn it, Wyn.  If he turns now, he'll bury you."

"What was I supposed to do, Bren?  Apparently, Matthew thought
that he was successful or else he would never have stopped.  We
have never had someone sent to Mother that wasn't so far gone
that they either wanted to go or could not have cared less. 
Blair was terrified when he figured out what was happening.  He
begged me to help him.  I feel like a bitch for not figuring out
a way to do more.  And now this, here I am and he's alone. I'm
afraid they'll get to him while I'm gone.  He's not broken yet
but he's gotta be standing on some shaky ground."

"What now?"

"When I get back, I'm going to check on him.  If everything's
okay.  I may try to sneak him out of the camp."

"No.  You know what will happen if you get caught.  We do this
according to the usual plan.  Eventually, with you pushing maybe
sooner than later, he'll be sent on work detail and Jim and his
buddies will grab him.  Do not risk getting caught trying to
sneak him out of there.  You put Mother off once.  If you have
to, I'm sure you can find a way to do it again, but don't hang
yourself trying to slip him from the noose.  That won't do him
any good."

"Okay, okay!  Gotcha.  Oh, tell Jim that it's him that holding
Blair up.  Blair knows Jim will come for him.  He might like to
know that."  She handed him some flowers and he gave her a bill. 
"Enjoy your flowers, sir."

_____________________________________________________________

Jim allowed Brendon to tell him about the conversation although
he had heard the entire thing as it took place.  His jaw clenched
and he squeezed his eyes shut to try to remain calm.  He wanted
to cry, scream, put his fist through something but he did not. 
He started his truck and the two men headed back to the station. 
"You didn't ask her about the drug lab."  

"No Jim, I'm sorry.  I forgot. My fault."  

_________________________________________________________________

It was past midnight when the bus pulled back into the camp. 
Inwardly, Wyn was a bundle of nerves, seething with frustration
and growing fear.  Outwardly, Sarah was smiling, singing,
bubbling with energy.  She was the first one off the bus and she
immediately headed for the gate that would lead her to the
private chapel.  She was anxious to see Blair.  As soon as she
was out of sight of the majority of the camp, her already
energetic pace increased another notch.  She entered the chapel
and went directly down the hall to the room where she had left
Blair.  She opened the door and her heart dropped.  It was empty.

"Brother Blair has been moved."

She turned to face Matthew.  "Really?  Where to?"  She tried to
keep her voice even.

"He's where he should be.  Continuing his purification with
Mother."

"He was ill."

"He got better.  He just needed the proper motivation.  Sister
Sarah, you shouldn't be so trusting.  He took advantage of your
soft heart and tricked you into believing he was sick."

"I see.  Thank you, Brother Matthew."

"You're welcome.  Mother has asked that I tell you to remain in
the chapel tonight in case she needs you."

"Of course.  Thanks again."

"Good night, Sister Sarah."  He left.

"Good night, Snake."  She breathed several expletives and kicked
the door frame.  "I'm sorry, Blair."

_______________________________________________________________

Chapter 7

Mother was in a foul mood, Sarah noted.  She had been summoned
only minutes after Matthew had left.  Wyn rejoiced briefly when
she saw that Blair was not in evidence.  However, given Mother's
mood and its likely cause, the joy was short-lived.  Blair was
probably back with Matthew.  "What happened with Brother Blair?"

"He wasn't ready.  I sent him back to Brother Matthew."

*I didn't want to be right about that part.*  "I see.  Mother,
may I make a suggestion?"

"Of course."

"Perhaps you should move more slowly with Brother Blair."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he seems very emotional.  Perhaps he is unable to handle
the physical purification so soon after the spiritual.  He seems
very fragile somehow, like he's been very hurt before.  Maybe he
needs time to heal and realize that you as well as the rest of us
love him and only want what's best for him.  That we want to
protect him from Satan." *God, I hope this harpie is buying
this.*

"I'll take that under advisement."  The woman looked furious and
whirled around and left.

"Come on, Medusa, grow a heart and leave him alone," Wyn
whispered.

_____________________________________________________________

*He's not coming,* Blair thought bleakly.  Jim was not coming. 
The realization made his tears fall harder.

"What's wrong, Brother Blair?  Tell me.  Perhaps I can help,"
Matthew offered.  "Tell me.  What major truth did you just now
grasp?  That you are an unloved, unwanted bastard?  That you are
not welcome anywhere?  That you are an evil, hateful being who
uses others then throws them away?  That you are soiled, stained
and dirty, in the eyes of God and the Saviors?  Which is it,
Blair?"

Blair's breath caught and he sobbed.  He tried to say something
through his tears.

"What? I can't hear you."

"Unloved, unwanted," he managed before he broke down completely. 
There was a hand on his knee, then an arm around his head,
pulling it into a cotton covered shoulder.  Soft words registered
in his brain.

"Shh, Brother.  You are no longer unloved, no longer unwanted. 
You are home and welcomed in.  Your sins are forgiven and you are
clean.  You need only to accept it and you will be free of Satan.
Now, Brother Blair, repeat after me," Matthew whispered.  "Only
Mother and Father love me."

"Only," another sob tore through him then he continued, "Mother
and Father love me."

"Good, Blair.  Now, only Mother and Father can save me."

_______________________________________________________________

Mother Ruth was angry.  How dare that little zombie tell her how
to handle her new toy.  Yet, what the idiot had hinted at could
explain why a grown man would curl into a fetal position on her
bed just because she tried to take his shirt off.  She would have
to talk to Matthew.  She waited all night and half of the next
morning before the man exited the chapel.

"He's clean," he announced.  "This time for sure.  He's sleeping.
He was working for the cops, you know.  He confessed the whole
thing."

"That's interesting.  No need to worry about it now.  He's one of
us, right?"

"Right."

"In that case, we need to talk."   

Minutes later, Matthew was nodding.  "That makes sense, I guess. 
He sure took to Sarah.  Maybe he needs a softer touch."

"Everyone takes to Sarah the Simpleton."  Mother snapped.

"I thought she was your favorite."

"Oh, I suppose she is.  She's loyal to a fault.  That's what
makes her simple, though.  I'm just annoyed.  Where's Isaac?"

"At the lab."

"Ah, how is our profitable little side business coming along?"

"Fine.  We have another shipment going out later today."

"Good.  Anyway, what to do about Brother Blair?"

"Ask Sarah," Matthew suggested.  "Maybe she'll have some ideas
and I know he'll respond to her."

"I don't want him to respond to *her*. He's supposed to respond
to me."

"Sorry.  Bad choice of words."

___________________________________________________________

"Bren, we've lost him."

"Damn!  Wyn, where are you?"

"Behind the chapel on the cell."

"Did Mother?"

"No, he refused her and Matthew broke him."

"Jim wants to know about the drug lab.  Have you seen anything?"

"Tell Jim I don't have time for his drug lab!  Tell him to make a
choice.  Blair or the drug lab."

"Wyn, don't freak out.  Believe me, Blair is his priority but he
wants to take these people down for what they are doing to Blair
and that lab, if it exists, is his only shot."

"Sorry.  Tell him there is a new building back here not far from
the chapel but I haven't gotten over to it.  Gotta go."  The line
went dead.

Brendon turned to Jim and Simon.  "He broke under Matthew's
torture."

"When do we get him?"  Simon asked.

"Don't know yet."

"I gather you were taking up for me there.  Thanks."  Jim knew he
had been.  He had heard every drop of scorn in Wyn's voice.

"No problem.  She's just taking this kinda hard.  We've never had
a situation quite like this one and I think she sort of likes
your friend.  She's impressed with him, I know."

"They have a lot in common really.  I'm not surprised."

________________________________________________________________

Mother asked for Sarah's advice on Blair and Wyn rejoiced behind
Sarah's serene expression.  She had told the woman that keeping
Blair isolated in the chapel was a bad idea.  It made Blair feel
like a prisoner.  She even talked the woman into letting Blair go
into Cascade with her the next day.  She would keep a very close
eye on him, she promised.   Blair's days here were then numbered
and the number was one.  The only thing left to do was try and
find Jim's drug lab.  She left Blair chatting happily with John
while they pulled weeds in one of the gardens and slipped back to
the chapel.  Wyn, Sarah pushed firmly into the back of her mind,
moved quickly through the trees behind the chapel.  When she came
to the mysterious building, she noticed first the boxes stacked
up outside.  She circled around trying to find a place with
enough cover to hide her, a tree large enough for her to climb
and a window for her to peek through.  The Fates were smiling on
her as she found just the right spot.  She swung up on a low
hanging limb and settled herself securely before she peered into
the window.  Plastic bags containing white powder lay on a table
and people were boxing them up.  "Well, I'll be damned.  Goodbye,
Sarah.  Something tells me I'll never be back here again after
tomorrow."  Carefully, she swung down and returned the way she
came.  Behind the chapel, she quickly located her cellphone,
hidden in a plastic bag among the small brush.

_______________________________________________________________

"Hello."

"Tomorrow, usual place at 2:00.  Blair will be with me.  Tell Jim
I found his drug lab.  I know what he'll say.  He'll want to come
hauling ass up here and raid the place.  Tell him I said no. 
He'll put Blair in the crossfire.  I didn't see any guns but
whoever heard of a drug lab without guns?  Surely, they've got
'em  somewhere.  We have to get Blair out then he can send in the
cavalry.  It's going to complicate things.  There will be
accusations flying everywhere.  I hope our hiding place stays
hidden.  Gotta go."


The line went dead and Brendon put the phone down long enough to
say a quick prayer then picked it back up.  He dialed Jim
Ellison's number.  

_________________________________________________________________

Blair was nervous.  He had been that way since Sarah had told him
he was going into Cascade with her today.  What if someone saw
him and called Jim.  Then again Jim was probably glad that he was
gone.  Still, he tensed every time he saw a police car.  He had
been on the streets with Sarah for a few hours, selling flowers. 
He was not very good at it.  Mostly, people sneered at him, moved
around him and kept walking.  Sarah was good at it, however. 
People always smiled at her at the very least.  Many bought her
flowers.  "I'm not doing very well," he admitted.

"It'll get better.  It's harder for men than women.  I'll tell
you a secret.  Notice that mostly I talk to men?"

"Yeah."

"That's the secret.  Men feel that they need to nice to a woman
more often than not.  And the reverse is true to some degree. 
Women are just not as susceptible.  However, if you turn on that
charm and bat those long lashes over those gorgeous blue eyes,
you'll make some sales."

"Isn't that wrong?  Matthew said-"

"Blair, anything that brings help to those who need it is not
wrong in the eyes of Mother and Father," she replied.  She looked
at her watch.  *I'm ready for this charade to be over.*  "Lunch
is over.  Let's move where there are always people."

"Where's that?"

"In front of the bank, silly."  He followed her.  They had walked
about a block before he stopped.  He turned his back to the
street as the police car rolled by.  She noticed.  "Relax,
Brother Blair.  The police can't touch you.  You are safe and you
have a home."  She took his wrist and pulled him along.

________________________________________________________________

"They're coming up the street now," Jim whispered to Simon as
they sat in the back of the van.  

"Okay, gentlemen, let's get ready.  It's almost two," the captain
announced.  Simon pulled out his cell phone and punched a few
numbers.  "It's a go.  Get in there and shut these people down,"
he told the person on the other end of the line.  They had
planned the bust simultaneous to Blair's *rescue*.  Simon knew
that his best men were with him but he could not manage to feel
guilty about that.  Sandburg was his responsibility and
therefore, his first priority.

Taggert shifted in the driver's seat and started the engine.

"They're on the opposite side of the street, Joel," Jim told him. 
"We're going to have to swing around."

Taggert nodded.  Rafe moved to the left side of the sliding door,
Brown to the right.  Jim positioned himself to be the first out
of the door.  Simon was right behind him.

"Can you see them, Joel?" Simon asked.

"No, wait, yes.  Got Blair and an auburn haired woman in the
mirror.  They're coming to the corner now.  She's looking this
way and moving away from him."

_______________________________________________________________

"Stay there.  I'm going to the other side of the street," Sarah
told Blair.

Blair said okay but he did not like it very much.  He wanted
Sarah near him.  He watched her move away then glanced around for
police cars.  There were none.  He swallowed hard and approached
a woman moving toward the bank.  He never got to her.

_______________________________________________________________

"Go!"  Jim yelled as Taggert reported that the woman had crossed
the street.  Joel hit the gas, one glance telling him that they
were in no danger of having an accident, and spun the wheel,
swinging the van around.  Tires were screeching and he saw
Blair's head snap around to the sound.  He floored the gas again
then slammed on brakes, bringing the van to a stop next to Blair. 
Surprise must have held Blair in place.  Rafe snatched the door
back and Jim and Simon had hold of Blair before the young man
could react.  His shock wore off when Simon and Jim lifted him
off his feet and tried to carry him to the van.  He screamed and
jerked in their arms so violently that the two men lost their
hold on him.  His feet hit the sidewalk and he tried to run but
Jim tackled him.  The two of them hit the ground and Simon
grabbed Blair's wrist while Jim held the struggling, screaming
man down on the sidewalk.  Jim grabbed the young man's other
wrist and pushed it up over his head, nearer to Simon.  Simon
snapped the handcuffs on quickly.

"Got him?" Ellison asked over Blair's screams for help and for
Sarah.  Sarah, however, was gone, Jim noticed with a small part
of his mind.  He could not see the woman and did not have time
for a search.  

"Yeah," Simon said as he gripped the back of Blair's shirt.


Jim moved off Blair then the two of them hauled the
anthropologist to his feet.  Again, he tried to break away but
Jim wrapped his arms around Blair's chest and half-carried, half-
dragged his kicking partner toward the van.  Only then did Simon
notice that people were staring.  He reached for his badge on
impulse.  "Police business," he announced as he showed the badge
to the spectators.  Jim handed Blair off to Rafe and Brown then
got into the van.  Simon backed into the vehicle and slammed the
door behind him.  Joel pulled away fast as soon as the door was
closed.

"Let me go!  Sarah!" Blair screamed as Jim, Brown, and Rafe
fought to hold him down on the floor of the van.

"Stop it, Blair.  You're going to make us hurt you," Jim pleaded. 
His answer was to have Blair's handcuffed hands brought up under
his chin hard.  He fell back and shook his head against the stars
exploding around his eyes.  

"Tough little thing, ain't he?" Rafe commented as he practically
sat on Blair's legs.  Brown grunted as Blair caught him in the
stomach with his elbow.

Jim made a face and moved back into place beside Blair.  Simon
managed to catch hold of Blair's wrists using the chain that
linked the cuffs.  He held Blair's arms on the floor over his
head.  Blair's body arched up over and over trying to break free
from either man.  "Blair, give it up.  You are not getting out of
this van until we get where we're going.  Don't make us hold you
down like this all the way because it's going to be a long ride,"
Jim told him, trying to sound calm, trying to use the same tone
that Blair used when he was guiding Jim in the hopes that his
words would have some effect.

"Let me go." Blair demanded through clenched teeth.

"No way, Chief."

"You're cops!  You can't do this!  It's kidnapping and you know
it!  I'll press charges.  I swear I will!  Mother and Father will
look for me and when they find me, we'll press charges!" he
yelled at them, still struggling.

"They'll have to find us first."  Jim spat back.

"Satan!" Blair screamed.  "Matthew told me about you!  You won't
take me back!"

"Apparently, you have mistaken me for someone else, Chief.  My
name is Jim.  You remember, James Ellison, your roommate, your
partner, your friend.  But you know, I'm going to end this
conversation before I do something I'll regret.  Can you guys
hold him?" he asked Brown and Rafe.

"Yeah."

"Got him," Brown assured.

"Good.  I'm going up front with Joel.  I'm not supposed to argue
with him, they said.  If I stay back here, I will."  Jim moved
toward the front of the van.

Instantly, Blair began to scream again and intensified his
struggle.  Jim was sitting down on the front passenger seat when
his blood ran cold.

"I'll tell them!  I'll tell them about you, Ellison!  I'll tell
them everything!"  Blair screamed.

Jim spun back in time to see Simon punch his partner hard. 
Blair's head hit the van floor and his body relaxed.  Silence
descended.

Simon swore under his breath.  "Sorry, Jim.  Couldn't take the
screaming anymore," Simon said in way of explanation and in the
hopes of stopping any questions Blair's threats might raise.
The two other officers exchanged puzzled looks but said nothing.

Ten minutes passed before Blair regained consciousness.  Rafe,
Brown, and Simon sat blocking all possible exits. Rafe was at the
side door while Brown and Simon sat in  front of the back doors. 
Blair rolled onto his side to face the solid wall.  He drew his
knees up and placed his arms around his head so that his
handcuffed wrists were in his hair.  Jim was almost zoning on the
white line on the side of the road when he heard the tiny
whisper.

"Jim, please.  Please, Jim, let me go.  I'm sorry I said that
before.  I didn't mean it.  I don't want to hurt you. I just want
to go back where I'm wanted.  Where I'm loved.  Jim, you really
don't want me in your house.  In your life."

Jim closed his eyes and clenched his jaw to keep from responding
to the voice he knew the others could not hear.  He did not want
to explain that.  Not to mention that both Brendon and Wyn had
advised him against engaging any long discussions or arguments
with Blair until they gave the okay.  The voice continued and Jim
wished he could shut it out but somehow he just could not.

"I'm in the way.  I know that.  If I hadn't been, you would have
come sooner.  Even you knew I was better off with Mother and
Father.  Satan is making you do this.  This could ruin your
career, Jim.  Let me go, Jim.  I'll go back to my real home and
you can forget about me.  Come on, Jim, please.  I know you can
hear me.  I want to go back."

Jim swallowed hard but did not move or speak.

"You're hurting me, Jim.  Do you want to hurt me?  Is that it? 
Am I being punished for something?  Whatever I did, I'm sorry. 
Please, Jim, the handcuffs are hurting me.  My head hurts where
Simon hit me."

Jim wanted to scream. He wanted to grab Blair and shake him until
his scrambled brain fell back into its proper configuration but
he did not move.  He gripped the armrest on the door and cursed
Blair for knowing how to push his buttons.  Half of him wanted to
beat some sense into Blair, the other half wanted to hold him,
reassure him, uncuff him and let him go.

"Damn you, Ellison," the voice said after a few moments of
silence.  "I hate you.  I hate your house rules and I hate you. 
I don't want to go back with you.  Don't you get it?  I HATE
YOU!"

Jim winced as the last statement was yelled out and echoed
through the van.

Simon seemed to figure out what was happening then and he grabbed
Blair by the front of his shirt.  "Sandburg, I'm going to say
this just once.  If you don't be quiet, I'm going to punch your
lights out again.  Do you hear me?  And when you're out, I swear,
I'll gag you.  You have nothing else to say.  Do you understand?"

No response came and Simon lowered the young man back to the
floor of the van and sat back again the doors again.  The rest of
the ride was silent.

________________________________________________________________

Jim and Simon dragged an uncooperative Blair into the cabin. 
Brendon simply watched, his arms folded across his chest.  The
two men took their charge down the hall and into the bedroom they
had cleaned out.  They placed Blair on the stripped mattress and
left him there. 

Blair scanned the room for a method of escape.  The windows were
boarded over.  Only one exit, the door he had been brought
through.  He was amazed at how bare the room was.  They had even
removed the doorknob and Blair wondered vaguely why.  He assessed
his situation.  He was handcuffed in a small, dark room, no
escape routes, no weapons, and his captors were a bunch of cops
and some guy he had never seen before.  Undoubtedly, he was the
deprogrammer.  He had heard how Sarah resisted the deprogrammers
her uncle hired, tricked them and returned to her true family. 
John had told him about it.  Blair felt sure that he could do
that, too.  Then suddenly, the guy was there in his face.  Blair
could feel his breath.  He had not even seen him coming.

"Who am I, Blair?" he asked.  

A shiver ran through Blair.  "Satan." Blair answered with total
certainty.

"Very good.  Just so we have that straight."  A cold and menacing
smile crossed the features of the man before him as he stood up
straight and left the room, leaving Blair shaking in terror.

_________________________________________________________________

"What the hell was that!?" Jim demanded.

"A start.  In more ways that one, I'd say," Brendon responded.

"His heart--" Jim stopped.  How could he explain hearing Blair's
heart rate jump from the hallway?  "He's got to be scared to
death."  He changed his statement, hoping no one focused on the
first.  "Why did you do that?"

"Look, Jim, I told you and Wyn told you that he was ours to deal
with until we say otherwise.  Do not interfere.  But if you must
know.  I have to get his attention, okay?  I'd say I have it now. 
Wouldn't you?  Otherwise, he'd just sit there and tune me out,
chant that ridiculous mantra they taught him about how only
Mother and Father love him.  Don't worry, you'll hear it all
before this is over.  Just stand back and let me do my job. 
Captain, get our guest something to eat.  Whether he knows it or
not or cares about it, he's hungry.  Then we let him sleep.  Then
he and I have some nice long talks.  And you, Detective Ellison,
stay out of that room.  Wyn should be here soon."  Brendon sat in
the living room and ignored the shocked and puzzled looks he was
getting from the others.

A few minutes later, after taking a plate of sandwiches to Blair,
Simon touched Jim's arm.  "We're going to head back to the
station."

"Simon, you flashed your badge at the scene," Jim stated as
though he had just been struck by the revelation.  "Maybe you
shouldn't go back."

"Jim, I have to find out how the bust went and I need to deflect
attention from you and Blair.  I have to go back."

"Sir, what if someone identifies you at the scene?"

"Then I'll be in trouble and you had better not fail here with
Sandburg."

Jim nodded.

"See you in a few days maybe?" Simon asked.

"Yeah."

Simon led the way out.  Brown and Rafe offered softly spoken
words of encouragement.  Taggert lingered for a moment.  "Hang in
there, Jim," he said.  "Blair will be okay."  Then he was gone.

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

Blair slept for seventeen hours before he awoke but he had no way
of knowing that exactly.  He tip-toed to the slightly open door
of his room.  Maybe Jim had left.  If he had, maybe Blair could
slip out and escape. From the door, he could see the living room
and one of its large windows.  It was early morning.  He could
see someone sleeping on the living room couch but he could not
tell who it was.  If it was Jim, he did not stand a chance.  Jim
would know the instant that he was awake.  

"Going somewhere, Chief?"  came the voice from the other side of
the doorway.

Blair jumped.  Jim walked past the door and Blair glared at him
as he went.  He heard Jim speaking to the person in the living
room.

"He's awake."

"Good."  Blair recognized that voice and a chill ran down his
spine.  "Let's get started, shall we?"

______________________________________________________________

Wyn handed Jim a cup of coffee.  He took it without focusing on
her.

"It will be easier if you don't listen," she stated simply.

"How did you know?"

"That look of concentration directed down the hall."  Wyn smiled
and sat down in his line of sight.  "How much can you hear?"

"Not much," he lied.

"But enough to upset you.  I know this is difficult and it seems
very cruel, but we have to use some of the same tactics they did
to break down his resistance.  At least we don't starve him and
deprive him of sleep."

"Or use electric shock on him.  Still, it doesn't help much."

"I know."  She touched his knee.  "You really care about him and
it's hard to hear him upset and afraid."

"Yeah.  I still can't believe that he could just decide to follow
someone who tortured him with a taser."  Jim shook his head.

"The mind does funny things under stress, Jim.  If it makes you
feel any better, he lasted longer than I expected him to.  He was
tough, Jim.  I've never seen anything like it.  We got him out
quick.  Most of the people we go after have been inside for
months.  Blair was there a little less than two weeks.  They
didn't have time to do major damage.  And he's smart.  We get
past his resistance and make him really think, he'll do the rest
himself.  It's just a matter of breaking down the barrier they
told him he had to build to protect himself from, of all things,
Satan."

"He called me Satan," Jim whispered.

"I warned you he might."

"I know.  Still, damn it."

"Yeah, I know."

Jim stiffened and stood.  "He's crying," he announced.  He
started toward the hallway but Wyn was there with her hand on his
chest.

"You are not going in there."

"He's crying," he repeated.

"I don't know how you know that.  I can only hear Brendon and
just barely.  Still, you are not going in there.  Jim, listen,
this is actually a good sign.  I know it doesn't sound like it
but it is.  It means that at least something Brendon is saying is
registering, getting past the wall.  Please, Jim, let us handle
this.  We'll let you see him soon.  I promise."

He took a deep breath and exhaled.  "I'll go call Simon.  I'm
supposed to check in."

She nodded.  Jim went to get his cellphone.  He hit the speed
dial to Simon's office.

"Banks." was the greeting he heard.

"Simon, it's Jim.  How'd the bust go?"

"There are problems.  Can't talk and don't call here again.  I'll
get you word somehow."

"Simon, what's happening?"  Jim extended his hearing through the
phone line.

"Is that Detective Ellison, Captain Banks?  Give me the phone," a
strange voice said.

"Captain Simon Banks, you have the right to remain silent..." 
Jim pulled back, astonished.

"Simon!"

"Don't do anything stupid.  Take care of your end and don't let
me down."  The line went dead.  Jim stared at the phone in his
hand.

"What is it?"  Wyn approached.

"Simon's been arrested."

"Over Blair, I presume?"

"He couldn't say but you know that's it.  He said he'd get me
word somehow."

"I'd better tell Brendon."

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 8

The man that Blair had come to know as Brendon came back into the
room after consulting with someone in the hall.  Blair watched
him pace the floor.  Blair frowned as Brendon frowned.  Brendon
was not happy and that could not be good for Blair.  Okay, sure,
so maybe Jim was not Satan and maybe Satan was not the reason
that Jim was doing this to him.  He was almost ready to believe
that, but Brendon?  No, Brendon was definitely Satanic if not
Satan himself.  He kept telling Blair that Mother and Father were
bad.  He even said that they ran a drug lab.  Blair pointed out
that if they had a drug lab then why sell flowers?  There was
definitely more money in drugs than in flowers.  Brendon had
asked if he would have been willing to sell drugs for Mother and
Father.  That had stopped Blair's heart for a second.  Not his
mind, however.  It shifted into overdrive.  He couldn't have.  He
shouldn't, right?  Jim would have killed him but what did Jim
have to do with Mother and Father?  If Mother and Father had told
him to then he should do it, right?  Finally, he announced to
Brendon that his question was rhetorical because there was no
drug lab and no drugs to sell.  Brendon only smiled rather evilly
then asked him about Mother.  That conversation had ended with
Blair in tears and admitting that he was afraid of her.  Blair
wondered what was next.  Why was Brendon frowning?  He sat on his
bare mattress, pulling on a small string and dreading what was
coming.

"You know Captain Simon Banks, right?" Brendon asked finally.

"Yes.  He helped Jim kidnap me and he's Jim's boss."

"Is he Satan?"

Blair thought about it for a moment.  "No, he's just been misled,
that's all."


"Oh, he's being misled all right.  Right into his own holding
cell more than likely."

"What?"

"Yep, Banks has been arrested.  He's heading for jail right now
for your kidnapping."

"Man, what about Daryl?"

"Who's Daryl?"

"Simon's son.  Oh, man, this is horrible."

"But he kidnapped you, right?  He should go to jail.  That's what
Mother and Father would say."

"What?  No, yes, I don't know."  Blair started to stand.

"Sit, Blair.  You're not allowed to get off the mattress yet."

Blair eased back down.  "Where's Jim?"

"He's here."

"Let me see him."

"You're not ready."

"You can't keep me from seeing him!"

"Oh, yes, I can.  Why do you want to see Jim anyway?  Jim
kidnapped you.  Not an hour ago, you were convinced that Jim was
either Satan or that Satan was controlling him.  Then you finally
accept the absurdity of that only to say that you don't care
about how he feels and want him out of your life.  That's what
you said and now you're all upset because I won't let you see
him.  What's up, Blair?"

"If I could talk to him, I could convince him that I'm fine, that
I'm happy and he'd let me go.  I'd make them drop the charges
against Simon and Simon could go free."

"You're fine?  You're happy?  Blair, if you go back there, Mother
will be there.  Mother Ruth, the woman you said was going to
force you to sleep with her.  Do you remember that, Blair? 
Remember we talked about that?  You said she scared you and then
when you refused her, she sent you back to Matthew for more
torture."

"Purification," Blair corrected.

"Torture!" Brendon screamed in Blair's face.  "Tell me, Blair, do
you really want to go back there?  Are you ready for Mother?  Are
you ready to be her toy?  Are you ready for Matthew if you
refuse?  Maybe I should bring a mirror in here so you can see the
electrical burns on your neck.  You want more of Mother and
Matthew's *love*, Blair?  Because that's what you'll get, Blair." 
Blair was crawling up the mattress toward the wall to get away
from Brendon as the man advanced on him.  He stopped when Blair
came to the wall.  "Sarah can't protect you forever."

Blair drew a sharp breath, stunned.  "How do you know about
Sarah?"

"Oh, I know all about Sarah.  How she took care of you when
Matthew hurt you.  How she lied for you to keep you from Mother. 
How she convinced Mother to give you time to adjust to being her
toy.  How she betrayed you at the end when she let Jim and the
others kidnap you.  I know all about Sarah because Sarah helped
me too once."

"You?"

"Yes, Blair.  Only you were luckier than me.  I was Mother's toy. 
Sarah didn't find me until after Mother got through with me.  She
helped me get my dignity back and you know, I almost turned her
in to Mother myself on several occasions.  But she didn't give up
on me.  She saved me.  Actually, though, I don't know her as
Sarah."  While Blair processed the new development, Brendon went
to the door.  Blair watched as he motioned to someone in the
hallway.  He stared at the doorway, waiting for he was not sure
what.  Then she entered.

"Sarah!" he exclaimed as he moved to get up.

"Down, Blair," Brendon ordered.

Blair complied as she came to him.  She sat in front of him on
the mattress.  "You didn't leave me," he said happily.

"No, Blair, but I'm not here to take you back either.  And my
name is not Sarah," she told him softly.

"I don't understand."

She smiled sympathetically at him.  "Look at me, Blair.  Don't I
look different?"

He did and she was right.  She did look different somehow.  "Who
are you?"

"My name is Branwyn MacDonald.  My friends call me Wyn.  Jim sent
me for you because he couldn't come himself."

"Jim?"

"Yes, Jim.  He tried, you know?  He went to the welcome center
but he was too late.  He went to the camp and got caught sneaking
around the property."

"He probably z--"  Blair did not finish his sentence.  Wyn did
not push.

"He was arrested for trespassing."

"Jim arrested?"

"And Captain Banks.  I gather Brendon told you.  For kidnapping,
it would seem."

"He told me."

"You have some pretty loyal friends," she observed.

Blair looked puzzled for a moment then came to a conclusion. 
"Simon's protecting Jim.  They've been friends a long time."

"And haven't you and Jim been friends for a long time?  Three
years, right?"

"I've been helping Jim for three years.  He tolerated me because
he needed my help.  I've found real friends, a real family, now,"
he argued.

"Really?  What makes it a family, Blair?  Because there's a
Mother, who, by the way, has no problem with incest apparently,
and Father, who really couldn't care less, and because you call
each other Brother and Sister.  Is that a family?"

"No!" Blair exclaimed, raising his hands to cover his ears.

Wyn gently touched the hands and they came away.  She smiled. 
"No is right.  Although, I think you meant it differently."

"I mean I won't let you do this.  They love me."

"Jim loves you.  Your mother loves you."

"Oh really, then where is she?" Blair spat out vehemently.

"Out of reach, unfortunately."

"Well, isn't that convenient?" he sneered.

"Oh, so now you're angry?"  The slight amusement in her voice
made Blair angrier.

"Yes and why shouldn't I be?  This is all her fault!"  He stood
abruptly and walked off the mattress.

"Blair, sit down," Brendon said evenly.

"No, I won't sit down!"

Brendon and Wyn looked at each other, a knowing look passing
between them.  They had him.

Jim could not bear it anymore.  He turned down his hearing and
grabbed his jacket.  He left the cabin and walked down by the
stream that flowed behind their hideaway.  He sat on a large rock
near the water.  He was not sure how long he had been there when
his cell phone rang.  He pulled it out of his jacket pocket. 
"Ellison."

"Jim, it's Joel."

"Joel, what the hell is happening?  How's Simon?"

"Under house arrest.  Given his position in the department, they
felt it was safer that way for him than the lockup."  

"This is about Blair, right?  Not the drug bust?"

"Yeah, most definitely about Blair.  There's an APB out on you. 
Nobody has pointed a finger at me, Rafe or Brown yet.  The drug
bust went fine from what I understand.  Of course, their lawyers
are trying out all sorts of fancy maneuvers now.  The kidnapping
charge was just the first.  They are demanding that Blair be
produced and returned, by the way.  Then there was the entrapment
thing.  Blair or you planted evidence.  Of course, you realize
that their first amendment rights have been violated.  Can you
believe they're trying that one with all the drugs that were
found?  Anyway, you name it, they're trying it.  It's a mess. 
First and foremost, though, is our probable cause and the
legality of the warrant.  We need that girl's testimony.  Will
she do it?" 

"I'll talk to her.  She and Brendon are in with Blair now."

"How's he doing?"

"I don't know.  He's mad one minute, crying the next, and
withdrawn the next.  They won't let me see him."

"That's gotta be hard.  Hey, Jim, I don't know if this will help
or not, but I got a buddy of mine in the lab to make me a copy of
some of the evidence photos from the bust.  Maybe if Blair saw
them, he would, you know?  I can't believe that he wouldn't come
to his senses if he knew that these people were drug dealers. I
mean, not after the Golden thing."

"Yeah, yeah, Joel.  That might be a good idea.  But you shouldn't
come here.  They might be following you.  For that matter, they
might be bugging your phone."  Jim hit himself in the head with
the heel of his hand at that realization.

"That's why I'm not on my phone.  Way ahead of you, Jim.  Another
buddy of mine owns a bar.  My tagalongs think I'm having a drink
while I'm on the phone in my buddy's office.  He owes me a favor
so I've asked him to bring you the pictures.  He said he will if
it's all right with you."

"Yeah, send him.  Thanks, Joel."

"Sure thing.  He can be there in half an hour.  Good luck, Jim."


Sarah was back.  *No, the woman's name was Wyn,* Blair reminded
himself.  She handed a folder to Brendon.  He opened it and
flipped through the contents.  He looked up at Blair.  Suddenly,
Blair was very cold.

"What?" he asked timidly.

"Remember that non-existent drug lab?  It was raided and shut
down yesterday about the same time that Jim and the others
grabbed you off the street.  Mother, Father, Brother Matthew,
Brother Joshua and some other guys were arrested.  Over 100 kilos
of cocaine and 60 kilos of heroin were confiscated."

"You're lying," Blair insisted.

"Pictures don't lie, Blair."  Brendon threw the folder at him.

Blair stared at it as though it were a snake about to strike him.

"Go ahead, Blair.  You should see in pictures what I saw first
hand," Wyn whispered to him.  She sat very close to him.  He did
not move so she arranged the folder in front of him and opened
it.  Slowly, she flipped through the pictures.  Although most
were of the drugs themselves and the equipment, some of them did
show both Mother and Father being handcuffed, led away, and even
one that showed Mother trying to kick a uniformed officer. 
Matthew was in one of the pictures as well.  

Blair blinked then looked to Wyn then to Brendon.  "It can't be
real."

"It is, Blair," Brendon stated.

"What isn't real is the love that they said they felt for you. 
What isn't real is the family they convinced you they alone could
give you."  Wyn's voice was soothing and reminded Blair vaguely
of his own when he was guiding Jim.

"Then nobody loves me," Blair murmured, his eyes filling with
tears.

______________________________________________________________

Jim could take it no more.  To hell with their rules.  He pushed
open the door to Blair's prison and entered purposefully. "That's
not true, Blair."

Wyn held up her hand to stop him.  "If nobody loves you, then who
asked me to come and get you?  If nobody loves you, then who is
that person sitting in jail right now for trying to save you from
being turned into a zombie?  If nobody loves you, who were those
people risking their careers for you in that van?  Who is that
man?"  She pointed at Jim.

"Jim."

"Is he nobody?"

"No.  He's--"  Blair looked at Jim, confusion in his eyes.  He
looked down at the mattress.

"Who is he?" Wyn asked softly.

"My friend."  Blair's breath caught then and when his eyes raised
to Jim again, his tears were making shiny trails down his tired
face and his eyes were so bright with emotion that Jim actually
felt pain radiating from them and through his own body.  "Oh,
God, Jim, I'm so sorry," he managed before a sob tore through his
body.  He bent forward, his head touching the mattress and he
cried.

Wyn stood and went to Jim who was transfixed by emotions that
warred for control.  Fear, love, confusion, pain, and anger were
all in evidence.  "You should go to him.  He needs you now.  By
the way, great timing," she smiled.  He took his eyes off Blair
and looked at her.  Fear, anger and confusion were gone.  Only
love and pain remained on his face, coexisting.  "Go," she
repeated then held out her hand to her brother and the two of
them left Jim with his guide.

Jim did not remember later how he got there but he did remember
holding Blair while they both cried.

______________________________________________________________

The silence was deafening when Blair entered the squadroom,
followed closely by Jim and two people unknown to most of the
officers.  Rafe dropped his coffee on the floor, the mug
shattering, but he did not seem to notice.  Brown hung up on his
wife.  Joel Taggert, however, smiled.  A phone call to Joel had
arranged matters so that both Simon and the cult leaders would be
in one of the interrogation rooms.  Taggert had not been sure why
but he had had an idea so he'd pulled a few strings and got it
done.  He hoped he was right.  The DA and all the lawyers were
there as well.  The lawyers were mostly protesting the unusual,
and as they saw it, probably illegal situation their clients were
being placed in.  Their protests ended along with all other sound
in the bullpen.

"After you, gentlemen," Blair announced.

Jim was proud of the way Blair was holding up.  After the
emotional breakdown was over, Blair pulled himself together and
declared that it was time to put an end to the cult and to
Simon's incarceration.

They filed into the interrogation room.  Wyn and Brendon waited
in the squadroom.  Simon sat up straight in his chair and looked
from Blair to Jim.  Jim gave him small smile and an almost
imperceptible nod.  Simon sighed with relief.

"Brother Blair!" Mother exclaimed. "Did they hurt you?" she
asked, fairly dripping with sweetness and light.

"No, but you did.  Mr. District Attorney, James Ellison and Simon
Banks did not kidnap me.  They rescued me.  I was being held
against my will and tortured.  There are some electrical burns on
my neck if you need proof of that.  Mother Ruth ordered Matthew
to torture me.  She and Matthew imprisoned me in her chapel when
I tried to run away," Blair said, voice harsh with the anger he
had felt since he realized how he had been manipulated and
twisted.  He looked directly into the woman who called herself
Mother then.  "The only saviors in this room are the people who
saved me from you." 

"You little bastard!" Mother screamed, jumping up from her chair.

"That's right!  I am."  Blair leaned over the table to get closer
to her.  "But at least I don't have to torture my dates to make
them love me," he said with the same tone of sweetness she had
used.

"Let's go, Blair."  Jim touched Blair's shoulder.

Blair gave her a wicked smile then allowed Jim to lead him out.

Moments later, Simon emerged from the room.  "Thanks, Sandburg,
Jim."

"Don't thank us.  Thank them."  Jim pointed at Brendon and Wyn.

"Yes, by all means, thanks."

"You're quite welcome," Wyn said with a devastating smile.

"There's no way we can repay you for what you've done."  Jim
extended his hand to Brendon then Wyn.  

"No debt is owed, Detective Ellison."  Wyn shook her head.


Mother Ruth or rather Ruth Ann Morrison and her brother Isaac
Henry Morrison were led out of the room then.  "Sarah?" the woman
called out.

"Sarah is fiction.  Just like loving Mother Ruth," Wyn's smile
disappeared and a look of deadly calm replaced it.

The officers had to drag the woman from the squadroom as she
screamed back threats at Wyn and Blair.

"This is going to get ugly," Simon observed.

"You mean, uglier than her?" Jim tried unsuccessfully to lighten
the mood.  But where Jim failed, the other officers of Major
Crimes succeeded.  Blair was surrounded, shouts of welcome back
and pats on the back brought the familiar smile back to Blair's
face.

"Hairboy!  Thanks for not having us arrested," Rafe teased.

"Day's not over yet."  Blair grinned at him.  "Call me Hairboy
again and I may change my mind."

Jim leaned back on a nearby desk and crossed his arms over his
chest.  All was well and he was smiling.  Blair had agreed to
therapy with Brendon.  His guide was back with him and welcomed
by his world.

"So," Simon said as he leaned on the same desk, "how long you
figure it will take for Sandburg to ask Dr. MacDonald, the female
one, I mean, out on a date?"

"That's old news, Simon.  He did it on the way over here. 
They're having dinner Friday night."

Simon simply shook his head and walked into his office.

Jim's smile grew brighter.

"Jim."  His guide joined him as Brown and Rafe led Wyn and
Brendon away to get Wyn's statement.

"Yeah, Blair?"

"I found something else I won't do in the name of research."

Jim was puzzled for half a second before he recalled their
conversation.  "Yeah, Chief, I guess you did."  Jim put an arm
around the younger man and squeezed briefly before letting his
arm fall back to the desktop.

"Hey, Jim, that was almost a hug, man.  This could become a
habit."


"Don't count on it, Darwin.  Well, so you got a date with Wyn?"
He changed the subject.  "Quite a step up from your last one, I
must say."

"Which one?"

"The one with the purple hair, Chief.  Man, it hurt my eyes to
look at her."

"Jim, her hair wasn't purple.  Maybe we should test your color
perception."

"If it wasn't purple, what color would you call it?"

"It was kinda pinkish, actually."

Jim could not help himself.  It began as a chuckle deep in his
chest and moved up until it exploded into hysterical laughter. 
Blair gave him a strange look, looking ever so like the
proverbial deer in the headlights.  Jim found himself wiping away
tears of joy.  Yes, Blair was home.

Voila'
___________________________________________