Jesse stared at his laptop screen, not really seeing it.  "Fuck," he whispered to himself.  Ever since he had had to leave his best friend on the other side of that electric fence, he had felt sick to his stomach.  His mother was fussing over him, and his dad had tried to reassure him that there was nothing he could have done.  But Jess knew better.  He had been sidetracked when he had found Rose's personal files and was not paying enough attention to what he was supposed to be doing.  Pete had tried to relieve him of the responsibility, too.  He shook his head sadly.  Kit could be dead, and it was his fault.

Suddenly, he had company.  He looked up at Henri Brown and Brian Rafe.  "Hi, what's up?"

"Um—"  Rafe looked at his partner and then back at Jesse.  "We were wondering, um, how do your parents feel about, you know, what you do for a living?"

Jesse shrugged, a reluctant smile pulling at his lips.  "They weren't thrilled at first, but they got used to it.  I didn't tell 'em for years.  I'd been working for the agency for about three years before I came clean and told them the truth.  I had to.  Got into a bad situation, kind of like this one, and had to hide out.  Mom pried the truth out of me.  She was furious, but then Pete came and charmed her and we've been fine since."

"Amazing," Henri said.

"I'm lucky, I guess.  Rico, that's one of the other guys, his family thinks he's a restaurant manager.  Frank's family thinks he's an accountant.  You have to see Frank to understand how ludicrous that is.  The man is like a mountain.  David's family thinks he's a computer programmer.  That was my cover, too.  Still is with the IRS.  Very few of us have told our families what we do.  Few of us are married and the few who are, their wives generally know but no one else.  Kinda sticky, you know."

"Yeah, I suppose it would be. So, what exactly do you do?"

"Lots of things.  My specialty is computers, electronics, communication, that kind of thing.  Like, I broke into Millennium's computer system.  I missed the backup alarm system because I had inadvertently gotten into Rose's personal files."

"Cool.  What did you find?"

Jess stared at Brown for several moments, unable to answer.  Because he had no answer.  He had not really looked at the files he downloaded.  He was so upset over Kit that the files had just sat there.  Pete had not even asked to see them either.  That was unusual and an indication of how upset Pete was as well.  He finally managed, "I haven't looked at them."

"Well, open 'em up, kid!  Let's find out what's there!"

Jesse nodded as he turned back to his computer screen.

"Who's Eliza?" Blair whispered, just loud enough for the other man to hear him.

Alex spun around and glared at him. "Eavesdropping, were you?"

"Not intentionally. I just heard you say goodnight to her, you know, the other night, and I wondered." Blair sat down at the kitchen table. For long moments, Alex remained at the window, and Blair thought that not only was he not going to get answer, he had damaged the still new friendship with the obviously personal question. Then Alex sighed and moved to the table. He pulled out a chair and slowly sat down. He stared at the flowered tablecloth. "Never mind…"

"No, no. It's all right." Alex tried to smile but pain was the prominent emotion on his face. "She was my wife. We were both in her majesty's service. She had told a little white lie to be able to meet me on assignment and give me some news and the situation went bad. To make things worse, when the smoke cleared, I found out that she was killed by 'friendly fire.'"

"What was the news?"

"She was pregnant."

Blair's heart leapt in his chest. "Oh man. I am so sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"Blair. It's okay. But it is just between you and I. Pete knows, and Kit knows, but no one else does."

"Why did you tell me?"

"Because you asked. And because I have been preaching at you for a bit, and you deserved to know where I was coming from. I was devastated and more than a little damaged. Perhaps I still am, but I'm coping, I think. Sometimes, that's all we can hope for, the ability to cope."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Simon?"

"Yeah, Joel?" Simon moved out of the shadow of the big oak tree and into the light.

Joel came down the steps and walked to greet him. "Are you okay with this plan of Devereaux's?"

"Joel, I'll be honest. I don't think that I will ever be quite comfortable with any plan of Peter Devereaux's. But, I will also say this. I think his way is the only way in this case. The FBI's way, Jim and Chase would be dead before we got through the gate. He's also right about the delivery truck. We can't take the chance that the company is sympathetic to Baker. We have to take it en route. And we do have to consider everyone inside that building a threat."

"I think the others handled the news about Jim pretty calmly."

"Well, it's like Brown said, they are detectives. They had put two and two together minutes after the news hit and never had believed Blair's retraction for a second. The evidence was clear. Jim was lousy at hiding his senses anyway."

"True. Of course, I did buy his cover story for a while."

Simon chuckled. "He should have realized that he wouldn't get away with that crap forever though."

Joel snickered. "Remember the time with the carrots? Somebody asked Jim how he could see something. I forget what. And Blair's explanation was—"

"He eats a lot of carrots." Simon laughed. "Yeah, I remember." He shook his head, a fond smile still on his face. "Well, now everyone who needs to know knows. Jim will no doubt be pissed off, but that's life."

"I don't know, Simon. After all this, I'd like to think that he has some perspective on things now. Maybe he'll just be happy to have a life after this. Don't you think?"

"God, Joel, I hope so. I really hope so."

"Banks!" Simon and Joel turned to face Devereaux. "We have a problem." The man turned and went back into the house without an explanation.

"What now?" Simon hesitated, trying to steel himself for the news, then hurried into the house with Joel hot on his heels. Everyone was gathered around Riviera and his laptop in the living room. "What's going on?" Simon looked into the stricken face of Blair Sandburg and knew he was not going to like what he was about to hear.

"She's pregnant." Blair swallowed, as though he was fighting the urge to vomit; something Simon understood completely. After all, he did not have to ask to whom Blair was referring. He knew. He closed his eyes and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.

"Rose did it. He used—you know, and he—"

"I get it, Blair." Simon held up one hand to stop the uncomfortable and unnecessary explanation.

"God, Simon, what are we going to do?"

Simon looked over Blair's head to Peter Devereaux. Devereaux only shrugged. Simon put his hand on Blair's shoulder. "We get Jim out of there and figure the rest out later. Not much of an answer, I know. But it's the only one I have this time."

It had been a sleepless night after the revelation of Alex Barnes's pregnancy. Pete had tossed and turned, never really getting his mind to shut down long enough for sleep to take hold of him. Now, he stood in the parking lot of a run-down paint and body shop waiting for Jesse. Jess had been right about his cousins. Pete had wanted an old clunker and Jess said they had plenty. They had picked him one that ran, but just barely. He looked at the old brown LTD and sighed. He hoped it would get them out to the lonely road that led to their target. Pete thanked Baker silently, sarcastically for the paranoia that drove him to put his facility way off the beaten path. Even so close to San Francisco, the road was deserted most days with the exception of the traffic in and out of Millennium. The truck hijacking would be the easiest thing they would do today, however. As he walked slowly around the car, he ran through the plan in his head again. If they could control the loading docks and Alex succeeded in blocking all the other exits, it should work. Rose would bring Jim and Kit to them. Easy stuff. If Rose did not cooperate, at least the majority of the people would be out of their way. At best, though, it would be a barely controlled chaos.

Jesse slapped him on the back, startling him out of his thoughts. "Let's go, man. The others will be waiting."

"This thing is going to get us there, right?" he asked again.

"It will get us there, Pete. Not comfortably, but it will get us there. If you'll ever get in, that is."

"They do know that they might not get this back, right? And even if they do, it won't be running."

"Yes, yes, get in the car."

Pete smiled and waved at the two Hispanic men who stood in the doorway of the shop before opening the passenger door. Jess was already in the driver's seat. He cranked the car, which sputtered and backfired. Pete cringed and wiped his now dusty hands on his jeans. "Well, our truck driver won't have any trouble believing our car broke down, now will he?"

Jess only grinned at him and put the car in gear. The old heap lurched forward twice, giving Pete's head a good snatch backward. "Whiplash. I don't suppose I can sue," he grumbled.

"Nope. Free car, man."

"Just as well. I wouldn't want anyone to find out I was in this car in the first place."

Jesse laughed at him. "Pete, you are such a snob sometimes."

Pete sighed in disgust as he spotted the grease stain on his jeans. Where had that come from? He hoped it was not all over his ass. It was going to be a long trip to San Francisco.

"Is being a guide hereditary?" Rose asked, not even looking up from the file.

Kit sat with his elbows on the table and his head propped in his head. "Not exactly."

Rose sat up in his chair. "Explain, not exactly."

Kit looked up at him. "I don't know how to explain!" Rose had dragged him out of bed and into this lab at the crack of dawn. He had already drawn blood, which a guy in a lab coat had whisked away. Then the questions had started. When did he know he was a guide? Did contact with a sentinel prompt his abilities? What made him a guide? How could he explain any of that to a man who would be unable and unwilling to understand? It would be a waste of time. It was a waste of time. He could be helping Alex Barnes, but instead he was here, looking at Rose's ugly, pinched face.

"Well, I suppose that's a step up from Blair Sandburg's answers."

"Blair couldn't tell you anything. He didn't understand it all himself. He was still trying to learn when you started fucking with him."

"You aren't telling me much more, Mr. Chase. Yet, you sound as though you are more knowledgeable and experienced."

"Not more experienced. Maybe more knowledge. Anyway, you ask stupid questions. Is a person born with the ability to be a guide? Maybe. Can a person learn to be a guide? Depends on the person. This is not something set in stone, man. It's not science. It's… I don't know, spirituality, understanding, emotion, compassion. All the things that you don't have. Sentinels are born sentinels. There must be something genetic there, but a guide? Who the fuck knows? It's not the same. All I can tell you is that it's a life-long commitment that most people would never be willing to make. If it weren't for that baby, I'd never do it. Blair did it for Ellison, but I don't understand why."

"But Ellison says he's lost his senses. Where does that leave Sandburg? And if it's genetic, is it possible for Ellison to lose his senses?"

"I don't know."

"Wonderful. Back to Blair's answer. All right. Is Sandburg functional?"

"He's a fucking person, Dr. Frankenstein! People aren't functional. Can we just get to the point, so I can try to help that woman and her baby?"

"We're going to do some tests."

"What kind of tests?"

"I'd like to get a CAT scan, so I can compare it to Sandburg's, to start with."

"Great. Fine, let's go."

Rose smiled. "I appreciate your cooperation."

"Yeah, fuck you."

Jim pushed the bland lunch around on the plate, too worried to eat. Rose had taken Chase out hours ago and he had not come back since. Jim could only hope that he had gotten through to the younger man. Chase could not possibly understand just how dangerous Barnes was. Sure, he knew the story, but he had not lived it. No one who had not been there would ever be able to understand just how close she had come to killing thousands of people. How close she had come to taking Blair away from him forever.

Chase wanting to help the baby, he could understand, but doing that did not have to entail tying himself to a criminal. If they got out of this mess, they could just wait until the baby was born, leave Barnes to her madness, and raise the child. But could Chase guide Jim's child? He would be so much older. If they did not get out of this mess, what would happen to them all?

Jim shoved the tray away. Before Chase arrived, Jim had contemplated escape a few times. He would probably not have succeeded, but he could hold onto the hope just the same. Now, things had changed. Chase would not be able to keep up and Jim had a baby on the way, so to speak, that he could not leave behind. He was back to depending Pete and Simon to do something. He knew they would come for him, but the waiting and wondering were driving him insane. He was so tired of mentally chasing his own tail. If they did not get him out soon, he would be as crazy as Barnes.

The door opened then and Jim got up and stepped back from the tray. The guard ignored it, however, and motioned for Jim to come with him. More, tests, Jim realized. Rose was not giving up. He wondered what it would be this time. Hearing? Sight? It did not matter. He would simply dial everything down to normal. Yes, he had his senses back, but he would never let Rose know that. In fact, maybe, he would just dial down below normal and really piss the man off.

"It's about damn time!" Simon stormed out of the thick bush as Devereaux and Riviera finally made an appearance. They parked the old LTD right in the middle of the road and got out. "Your father left us here nearly an hour ago. What took you so long?"

Riviera shrugged. "You got to ride in Dad's new SUV. We had to ride in this. You figure it out." The young man was smirking at him. Simon hated that.

Devereaux, in the meantime, seemed to be trying, without much success, to check out his own ass.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Do I have grease all over me?"

"Jesus, Devereaux! What does it matter? Your car is supposedly broken down. You should have grease on you."

Devereaux rolled his eyes. "Are we ready?"

"Yeah, everyone's in place."

"Everyone but you." Then Devereaux had the audacity to shoo him back toward the side of the road. "Go, go. It's almost time for the truck. Jess, pop the hood of that wreck."

Simon watched as Riviera followed the instruction then reached in and snatched the distributor wires. He stuffed the wires in a bag and tossed the bag to Devereaux.

"Now, 'Truck Boy' can't follow us." Devereaux's grin was positively demonic. The man could be damned scary when he wanted to be. Simon shook his head and backed into the cover off the road. He got into position next to Joel and waited.

"Shouldn't be long now," Joel said quietly.

Simon nodded. Time to pray, he thought, but said nothing.

The temperature change was the oddest thing. The room was cool, almost cold, but the jungle was hot. One part of Kit's brain registered the oddity, even while the rest of his mind focused on his task here. She was there, straight ahead, on the steps of a temple. The scene was familiar. He had met Blair Sandburg on these same steps, but Blair had retained his human shape, not allowing his spirit guide to possess him. Alex Barnes was the spotted jaguar. She could not be anything else. To her mind, she was only the jaguar. Did she even remember being human at all? He would have to remind her. To do that, he would have to touch her. He allowed his own animal spirit to change him and approached her on padded paws. Slowly, he ascended the steps. She growled, warning him away, as she wrapped her tail around her sleeping cub. He did not stop, however. He took the last step to her, ducking his golden head to her spotted one. The touch was electric, and before she could pull away and attack, he grasped her head with now human hands and pulled her with him. A shove nearly sent him down the stairs.

"What have you done?" she demanded.

He looked up into her blue eyes. "Hello, Alex."

"Who are you? Where are we?"

Kit looked down at her feet. The cub was gone, now a part of the woman before him. "You know where we are."

"The temple. Where's Ellison?"

"Not here."

"What happened to me?"

"A lot. I can help you though. If you'll let me."

"Like Sandburg helped? No thanks. Nobody's going to control me."

"It's not control. It's a partnership."

She laughed. "Every partner I have ever had has either tried to screw me or kill me. I rather work alone. Leave here. Leave now."

"I've helped you already. It's been over a year since you were at the temple. You've been trapped here. I can help you find your way back."

"You're lying!"

"No, I'm not. Let me help. Take my hand."

She reached out to him, whether to take his hand or try to kill him, he would never know, as something grabbed him and he spiraled into darkness.

The cold floor registered first, then the shadow looming over him. Rose, he knew instinctively. He opened his eyes. "You idiot! You just had to interfere!"

"What happened? What were you doing? Sitting and staring at her isn't going to accomplish anything," Rose complained.

Kit shoved the man. Rose hit the floor hard. "You are a jackass! You don't understand and you won't understand. I can't do this if you won't stay the hell out of my way!" Kit screamed at him. "Fuck!" He moved over to Barnes once again. She was no longer the feral creature she had been. Now, she appeared catatonic. She was still at the temple on the spirit plane, stuck there as surely as Blair had been. He would simply have to try again. But first, he had to get Rose to go away. He looked at the annoying bastard. It was not going to be easy.

Jim fidgeted. Not something he was prone to do. It was more of a Sandburg thing, but he had been left in this office for at least an hour, he was sure. He did not have a watch, but it must have been an hour. Maybe two. Damn. He tried to relax. He could not. This could not be a good thing. He got up and nearly tried the door again. He stopped himself. It would still be locked.

He ran one hand over his head. His hair was getting too long. He needed a haircut. Pretty soon he would look like—he stopped the thought. They had cut Blair's hair. His heart skipped a beat. His fault. His brilliant idea. Lock Blair away and then he would only have to deal with what he had done on visiting days. Although he doubted that he would ever get to visit at the time.

But Blair had not stayed locked away. Neither in his own mind or in the mental hospital. He was out there somewhere, learning to be a mercenary. The man who did not really want to be a cop was now learning to be a merc. Was irony the right word to use?

Jim paced the room. It was a nice office, complete with plush gray carpet, oak desk, and leather chairs. This was not Rose's office. The knowledge only added to Jim's anxiety. This was no doubt Baker's office. Why would he be brought here? One last chance to be useful perhaps before he was killed? No, that could not be it. He was their prize stud now.

"Jesus, can we just get this over with?"

As if the powers that be had answered his wish, the door opened, and Jim was almost relieved. Almost. George Baker entered the room with two other men. "Have a seat, Ellison."

"What is this about, Baker?"

"Sit. I have a proposition for you." Baker moved to the leather chair behind his desk and sat down.

"I'm not interested."

"I have invited you to sit and you're still standing. Do I have to have my men assist you?"

Jim glanced at the guards then walked back to the chair. He slowly lowered himself into the seat.

"Thank you. Now then, let me lay this out for you, Jim. I realize that you have lost your sentinel abilities so I'm not expecting you to perform in that capacity. Rose assures me that Ms. Barnes will be functioning soon now that she has a guide. Much to my chagrin, that guide is Kit Chase. We'll have to find another guide at some point, but for now, I'll leave Rose with his toys. He also thinks that you will one day recover your abilities, but in the meantime, it seems a shame to have you sitting around idle in your cell. A man with your training would be an asset to my organization even without heightened senses."

"Even the prize bull has to pull the plough sometimes. That it?"

"Exactly, Jim. You don't want to spend the rest of your life in a cell, only getting out to 'perform' in the lab."

Perform. The word made Jim's stomach flip. He looked over at the nearly empty bookshelf to his right.

"I'm offering you a chance to serve your country again."

"My country? You must be joking."

"Not at all. This country is going to hell, Jim, and the white race is being overrun. This is our country. It's time to start taking it back. I'm giving you a chance to be part of the revolution."

"I think Chase would take exception to part of your argument there, Baker. Well, gee, let me think about that 'offer' for a while. Um, no."

"Then perhaps I should rephrase it. Let's try it this way. As long as you cooperate and do what you are told, Kit Chase lives. And Blair Sandburg lives. Refuse and Chase dies first. Then we hunt down Sandburg and he dies. That change your mind?"

Jim closed his eyes and nodded once. What could he say? What could he do? Besides hold onto the hope of rescue before he actually had to do anything for Baker. Any time now, Pete, he thought.

"Good! Tomorrow morning you'll begin training with my men. It means a change of scenery for you. You'll be picked up this evening and taken to the training camp. That will give you time to say goodbye to your little friend. Be sure and tell him that you've saved his life. Oh, and tell him that his cooperation will ensure your continued health as well." Baker looked past Jim to the guards. "Take him back to his cell."

This was it. If Baker got him off at some training camp, Pete and the others would never find him. Escape would be impossible. Oh, he could escape. Easily, more than likely, but Chase would be dead. Maybe Blair would be dead too. Chase was not his best friend. He respected the man, but he did not really even like him. Still, he could not be responsible for his death. And he had already been responsible for too much pain in Blair's life. Hell, he had been responsible for Blair's death. He just got lucky that Blair was willing and able to come back when Jim called. He could not risk Blair again. I did this, he thought miserably as Baker's men hauled him up from the chair by his arms. I could always get myself killed on my first 'assignment.' That would be best for everyone concerned. Except him, of course.

Part 12