Jim tried to catch Chase before he hit the floor, but he was too late. The door slammed shut as Jim knelt beside the younger man. He felt for a pulse. It was fast, but strong. He scooped Chase up and deposited him on his own bunk. He stepped into the small bathroom and wet down one of the washcloths there. He squeezed the excess water from it and moved back to the bed to place the cloth on Chase's forehead. He pulled up the chair and sat down.

He looked the other man over critically. He did not appear to be hurt any more than he had been before, though, and Jim wondered what had happened to cause his collapse. Perhaps just too much activity too soon. Maybe he hyperventilated. He was breathing normally now, however. With the absence of any evidence of new injury, Jim would simply have to wait until he came around to ask him what happened.

That annoyed him. He wanted to know what was going on with Barnes. Was she catatonic like the last time he had seen her? Rose had said once that she was feral. That was his word. To Jim, that meant violent. Had she attacked Chase and aggravated his concussion? Or had Chase been able to reach her? The thought gave him a jolt of something very like jealousy, and he ruthlessly crushed the feeling, even as he wondered why he had felt it at all. Rose had also said that she still had her sentinel senses. That hardly seemed fair. She had done many things much worse than he and he did not have his senses anymore. She had tried to kill a guide, for crying out loud. But Blair had not been her guide. No, that was not the explanation. Technically, Blair had not been his guide at the time either, if he believed Chase's version of the legend. Blair had made his choice after… after what? His death, Jim admitted. He had come back to be Jim's guide. Their spirits had merged and then Blair had been his guide. Before, Blair had been a shaman who was able to guide. But just when their bond should have gotten stronger, Jim had pulled away. Just when Blair made his commitment, a commitment that he proved once and for all when he threw away his future to save Jim's ass, Jim had deserted him. Jim knew the pain of abandonment intimately. The thought of the pain Blair must have felt brought tears to Jim's eyes. How could he have bore that kind of pain? How could Jim have inflicted that kind of pain on someone, knowing how it felt? His face burned with shame.

Before he could slip into a full-blown guilt trip, a moan drew his attention once more to the man in the bottom bunk.

"Chase? You back with me?" Jim leaned over him and tapped his face lightly.

"What?" Chase blinked at him. "Whoa man, back up a little." Chase pushed his hands away.

"What happened?"

Chase looked at him blankly for a minute. Then there was a flash of something in his eyes. It disappeared before Jim could name it. "Yeah, um, can we talk about it later? It was kind of intense. I need to—I need some time here to sort out what—you know, later."

Jim stared at him. "You want to process? That it?"

"Yeah, process. Okay?"

He was hiding something. Jim could feel it, but he decided not to push at the moment. Chase did look tired and more than a little freaked out. "Are you okay, at least? Did she hurt you?"

"I think I just kinda lost it. It was me, not her."

"Anxiety attack?"

"Maybe, something like that. I think I hyperventilated or something."

Jim nodded. That had been one of his theories. "I don't think you should sleep though. Try to stay awake for a while, just in case."

"Whatever, man. Can you maybe disappear?"

"It's a small room, Chase."

"Just go up there." He pointed to Jim's bunk.

Jim sighed but climbed up into his bunk. He heard Chase muttering to himself, but he did not try to listen. He frowned. He wanted some damn information. He rubbed one hand down his face and tried to keep from screaming in frustration.

Simon Banks waved Pete off and left him talking to himself when he saw Blair step out onto the porch of the Riviera home. Blair seemed almost shy as he approached his old friends from Major Crimes. The Major Crimes people were not so timid. Henri Brown, whom Pete remembered briefly meeting before, swept Blair up and spun him around. Inspector Connor seemed to check him over to see if his time with Pete and the agency had injured him in any way. Pete had to laugh at the serious examination as he reassured her that her friend was indeed in one piece. Banks hung back as the others slapped Blair on the back, shook his hand, and generally made a fuss over him. Only when they were done did Banks step forward. For a long moment, the two men just looked at each other and for a moment, Pete thought that maybe Banks was angry with Blair. The man's face was so stern. Apparently, Blair was a little worried too. He looked down at his feet.

"Uh, hi Simon," he said finally. Banks reached out and cupped one big hand around Blair's short curls. The bear hug that followed made Pete's ribs ache in sympathy.

When the joyful and somewhat tearful reunion was over, Rosa Riviera hustled them all into her kitchen where she had made the cookies Pete so dearly loved. The whole group gathered around her table. Blair was wrangled in between Banks and Connor. Taggart was beside Banks. Jesse sat backwards in the chair next to Pete. Brown and the other man who was introduced as Brian Rafe sat side by side on the other side of Connor. One person was not at the table, however. Pete knew that Alex had positioned himself in the doorway behind him, physically guarding his back even among friends. It was a very "Alex" thing to do.

A plate came over Pete's head and he snagged a cookie off of it before Rosa could even put it down. She laughed at him and he looked up at her, attempting to look innocent. Problem was, Pete's innocent look was guiltier than most people's guilty look. It was not news to him. He was well aware that innocence was not his strong suit. But Rosa liked him anyway, which was a tribute to what a kind lady she really was. He sunk his teeth into the soft, warm cookie and closed his eyes to savor the wonderful taste. The cookie just melted in his mouth, and for just one moment, he held on to the simple pleasure before facing complex reality. Banks cleared his throat and drew Pete's attention back to the matter at hand. He opened his eyes, smiled and shrugged a little in apology. Jesse picked up a cookie himself, but he only held it in his hand. His youngest operative was hurting over this mess. He frowned.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Pete reached back and Alex placed the rolled up aerial shots and blueprints of the facility in his hand. As he unrolled the paper, he took in the people around him. Brown and Rafe were partners apparently, and as oddly matched as Jim and Blair. Or he and Jesse, for that matter. He had already seen the level of comfort in the partnership, however. They might not have looked much alike, but they would work well together. That was what mattered. The Major Crimes unit was accustomed to one another. His people were accustomed to one another, too. What remained to be seen was whether the two groups could work together. Of course, both groups had a life at stake and that was a great motivator. He took a deep breath and began outlining his plan. "We'll go in through the loading dock, here."

"How do we get to the loading dock?" Banks asked. "Wouldn't it be simpler to go in here?" He pointed to a point on the other side of the building where the fence was closest to the structure.

"The security system has proven to be a problem. We aren't getting through that fence without them knowing that we're there." Pete glanced at Jess who frowned deeply and shifted lower in his seat. "Jess?"

"I'm okay."

"'kay, anyway, trust me, I have a plan."

"Why does it make me so nervous when you say that?" Blair asked.

"You hung around Kit too long. Nothing to worry about. Now be quiet and listen."

"Ever thought about having kids, Ellison?"

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin as Chase's voice plucked him from the edge of sleep. "About time you decided to join the real world again." It had been quite some time since Chase had returned from his visit with Barnes. For a while, he had just mumbled to himself, and then he had fallen asleep, despite Jim's advice not to do so.

"Just answer the question." Chase sounded impatient.

"Yeah, I suppose I have thought about it. But most of those thoughts have been reasons not to have kids. Why?" Jim turned on his side on the bunk.

"What reasons did you come up with?"

"Why are we talking about this?" Jim was the one getting impatient now.

"Are you—I mean, do you know, um, what Rose has planned?"

"You mean, stud service?" Jim allowed his tone to convey his disgust.

"Yeah. So you do know?"

"Okay, get to the point." Jim stuck his head over the edge of his bunk and glared at his irritating cellmate. This was not a comfortable subject, damn it. He did not want to talk about it. Especially with Kit Chase.

"I'm going to help her, I think."

"Excuse me?" Jim snapped.

"I'm going to guide her. I have to."

"Holy shit!" Jim rolled off the bunk. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Probably."

"Goddamn it! She is a criminal. What the fuck are you thinking? She will probably kill you. Remember what she did to Sandburg? You'll be next, Chase!"

Chase turned away from him. "I don't have a choice."

"The hell you don't! You said yourself, being a guide is a choice. You said you would never make that choice. Now you're going to guide Alex Barnes? I think you hit your damn head again!"

Chase sighed and sat up. "Listen to me, Ellison. Think I'm happy about this? Think again. But things are more complicated than you can imagine. You—I don't, you don't understand."

"Is that what you were doing earlier? Talking yourself into it? What?"

"I was praying."

"Praying? Praying for some sense, I hope!"

"No! Praying for you. And for her. And for your child."

"For—what?"

"It's started, Ellison. You gave Rose a sperm sample, right? Well, he used it."

Jim flinched and his knees nearly buckled on him. "Oh God." He staggered back to the chair and fell into it.

"Now you understand? I have to help her, because she's carrying your baby. If I don't do this, Baker and Rose get your child and they teach it to hate. I'm a shaman. I can't let that happen. No matter what she's done, the child is innocent. I can't let them corrupt that innocence."

Jim was shaking. The air in the room seemed thin, stale. He could not breathe. He looked down at his hands. He had never noticed that callous. He wondered how it got there. He focused on it. Then someone was shaking him. He blinked and looked up into Kit Chase's dark brown eyes. But they were not just brown. There were actually spots of true black in the other man's irises. Lemon, he could smell lemon. And sweat. And fear. Chase's hands were too hot and his voice too loud. He pushed the man away. He scrambled for the dials Blair had taught him to use. Before he could find them, the room turned green, the walls sprouting leaves and the climate controlled air dissipating as a warm tropical heat swept over him.

"Incacha?"

The man materialized from the foliage as if summoned by his name. "You understand the bond?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"You must choose again."

"What about the child? Will my child be a sentinel? Can Chase save her? Can he save my child?"

"He is strong, but the sentinel will choose her own fate."

"Incacha, tell me what to do!"

"Choose. Will you fulfill your destiny? Will you accept your responsibility? Will you protect your guide as he protects you?"

"Blair? I can still—he'll come home?"

"Choose."

"I choose to be a sentinel."

"And you deserve to be. Be well, Enquiri."

"Incacha! The baby?"

The man shook his head. "I know not what fate holds for the child." He was gone then and so was the jungle.

Chase sat on the floor looking up at him. "Welcome back."

"Sorry."

"You have your senses back, don't you?" Chase asked.

"Yeah," Jim answered almost absently as he tried the dials to reassure himself.

Chase chuckled a little. "Cool."

"Why now? Why not when I could help Blair with them?"

"Don't know. Maybe someone decided that you had learned your lesson. Maybe because you may need them to save your child."

"A reward?"

"Why not?"

"For what? For not getting Blair killed in this mess? Not actually having sex with Barnes on the beach after she tried to kill my best friend? For only screwing up a few lives as opposed to lots of lives?"

"For being decent. Not perfect. But decent. You have some good points, you know."

Jim snorted in disbelief.

"Besides, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Take it and move on. Maybe that's one of the things you were supposed to learn. Don't blow it now by obsessing over the past."

Jim nodded. "Point taken. He wouldn't tell me about the baby."

"The future isn't written yet, Jim. He couldn't know for sure."

"It's a mistake for you to become her guide, Chase. He seemed pretty sure than she wouldn't change, regardless of not knowing the future for sure."

"He said that?"

"He said she would decide her own fate."

"That's not the same thing as saying she wouldn't change! I have to try."

"No, there's other ways. Don't do this. It's a mistake. I just know it is."

Chase looked down at the floor. "I'll think about that."

"You called me Jim a minute ago."

"So? That's your name."

Jim smiled a little. "Thank you for everything."

Chase blinked. "You're welcome."

Sleep eluded Jim.  Chase's revelations and the return of his senses had shaken him to his very core.  Alex Barnes was pregnant with his child.  He swallowed, trying to force his dinner back down as it threatened a reappearance.  After his behavior in Sierra Verde, what would Blair say?  He was already so angry.  No, he was not giving Blair enough credit.  Blair would know this was not his choice.  Not the child's fault either.  If they
managed to get out of this, perhaps he could raise his child.  Blair would help him.  That would be perfect.  Blair would have to come home if Jim's child was a sentinel.

Then he wanted to kick himself.  That was not fair, not right.  Besides, he did not want Blair to come back only out of a sense of obligation.  He wanted Blair to come home because he wanted to come home.

Still, that little voice whispered in the back of his head.  He was a sentinel again and a sentinel needed a guide.  What if Blair never came back?  What would happen to him? It would no less than he deserved if he ended up in a mental hospital.  He had sent Blair off to one, after all.  He repressed the urge to scream.  It would bring the guards running and probably scare the hell out of Chase.

Speaking of his cellmate, he was awake as well. Jim knew the younger man was torn.  He only hoped that he had talked Chase out of being Barnes's guide.  That would be a huge mistake.  Chase was under the delusion that he could change the woman.  Jim was under no such illusion.  The beach had taught him that if nothing else.  Even as she wrapped herself around Jim, she was still prepared to kill Blair.  All Blair had ever done was try to help her.  It was Blair's nature.  It was Chase's nature too, Jim supposed.  Compassion could be a heavy burden to bear sometimes.

The military had taught Jim that.  Then taught him to squash his compassion under duty.  Though he often claimed to be able to do just that, he was not as successful as he let others believe.  Blair included.  And he was even less successful once he let Blair into his life and heart.

It was if Blair felt so much so strongly that he projected those feelings onto those around him.  Jim, being in the closest proximity, caught the brunt of that. Now it sounded like he was complaining.  He was not, however.  Blair had put him back in touch with his compassion.  Made him acknowledge it, rather than stifle it.  Actually, it was a relief in many ways.  It was hard to deal with in the moment, but afterward he was left feeling somehow cleaner, freer, as opposed to the sick feeling he had sometimes felt for days after a particularly bad case.  Thinking back, Jim could now see that almost from
day one, Blair had been a shaman.  His shaman.  Doing what needed to be done; giving Jim the support he needed.  And the shoves that he may have needed but definitely did not want.  He sighed.  No matter what happened with Barnes, the child, Rose, Baker, or this whole damn mess, the one thing Jim knew he must do was reconcile with Blair.  Even if he had to crawl after his shaman on his knees through hell, he would not rest until Blair no longer hated him.

Pete hung up the phone.  Chad's people were ready.  He turned to the men waiting anxiously behind him.  "It's on.  We go tomorrow.  We take the delivery truck at 1:45.  By 2:00, we are in the facility.  We have until 2:30 to find Jim and Kit.  Alex, are you ready?"

Alex only nodded at him.

"Good.  Remember, Captain Banks, all of you, this is not a police operation. This is dirty pool, gentlemen.  And lady.  Anyone with a gun is a target whether they are pointing it at you or whether it's holstered.  They have just two options, disarm and drop or get shot.  I will not haggle.  Neither will you.  I say again; if that's a problem, stay here.  Mrs. Riviera is a wonderful hostess.  We will make every effort to make sure those unarmed go unscathed, but they must be controlled.  Any questions?"

"None," Banks answered.  The others shook their heads.

"Fine then.  You might all want to try to get some sleep.  I need you sharp tomorrow."  He left the room then.  He made his way out to the front porch and sat down in the old green glider-rocker there.  He closed his eyes and let his head fall back.  Then Peter Devereaux prayed.  He had lost men before.  They led dangerous lives.  But the thought of losing Kit Chase was just too much to contemplate.  The younger man had been working for him less than two years and yet, his loss would be devastating to the agency.  To Pete personally as well.  There were men that worked for Pete that he thought of as friends, some that he barely knew, and some that he personally did not even like. Then there were those that had become almost family. Jesse was first. Alex was next. Then Kit. He was odd, infuriating, and sometimes completely unpredictable, but he was also honest, compassionate, and a stabling force.  Such a paradox.  And he was a true friend.  In Pete's line of work, he did not have many of those.  He had people who owed him favors, people he owed favors, and lots of acquaintances, but few friends.  Kit had to be alive.  He simply had to be.

The opening of the front door brought him out of his thoughts.  He turned to see Inspector Connor standing there, staring at him as though she could see right into his soul.

"Inspector," he said in greeting.

"Mr. Devereaux."

"What can I do for you?"

She took a breath and shook her head.  "Nothing.  Just thought you might like some company."

He smiled and scooted over to make room for her to sit.  "Maybe I would."

They sat, just gently rocking, until she broke the silence.  "You're worried."

"Yes.  Not about Jim.  Actually, they need Jim.  They won't hurt him."

"But your man.  Kit?"

He nodded.  "He's had a little run-in with Baker before.  Baker would like nothing better than to kill him.  I'm not even sure he'll be alive when we get there.  He might be dead.  Might have been long dead."  He nearly strangled on the words. "If he's dead, Baker will die.  But he'll suffer first. I probably shouldn't be saying this to a cop." He laughed bitterly.  "It may not happen tomorrow, but it will happen."

She only nodded and turned to look up at the sky.  His eyes followed hers and silence reigned again.

"Mr. Baker, I don't think you understand!"  Rose swore under his breath.  Baker had finally deemed him worthy enough to call back, and now the man would not listen.  "Chase is a guide. He made some progress with Alex today."

"What kind of progress?"

"Well, for one thing, she didn't try to kill him.  That's a definite sign there.  Before unless she was drugged or restrained, she attacked anyone who came into the room, including me.  They somehow connected in a way that I have been unable to achieve with anyone else.  I think he can work with her. I think he can guide her.  We will have a functioning sentinel.  And if nothing else, when the child is born, he can work with the child.  Mr. Baker, I realize that you are unhappy about his ethnic background—"

"That's a gentle euphemism for a fucking half-breed."

"Sir, this does mean, however, that we will not need Blair Sandburg."

"Great.  I get rid of the Jewish bastard and have to take the half-breed instead.  Now, you listen to me, Rose.  Find me a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant guide, damn it!  You can keep your prairie nigger pet for a while longer, but he will be put down.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir.  I understand."  Robert hung up the phone without another word.  Baker was a lunatic.  When Chase had Alex at least under control, the three of them were getting out of this hellhole and away from Baker and his militia.  He thought about the numerous guards Baker had here watching his every move.  It would be tricky, but he had other friends willing to help.  Robert had shopped around while Baker's back was turned.  The Chinese were interested.  So were several other private organizations not quite as
restrictive as Baker.  With Alex's experience as a thief and Chase's experience as a mercenary, they could make a fortune.  Baker thought he had Robert under his thumb.  That might be true while Alex was so out of control, but perhaps that was about to change.  Then it would simply be a matter of controlling Chase.  He could leave that to Alex. The boy could see, after all.  From what he knew of Alex before her unfortunate breakdown, she was a charming and sensuous woman.  And if that did not work, there was the child.  Robert had noticed Chase's concern over Alex's unborn child.  That concern could and would be used against him.  Still annoyed but oddly satisfied that things were going to get better, he closed his notes file and shut down his computer.

Part 11