Kit
checked the hallway for security guards.
Finding it empty, he rounded the corner and crept silently down the
hallway of the Millennium Research Foundation.
It had been ridiculously easy to find and disable their security
system. Simply snipping a few wires
disabled the alarms and the security cameras were scrambled. The guards were reduced to patrolling the
building while they tried to figure out what had happened to their video feed. It would take them about fifteen minutes to
figure out that it was not a simple outage.
It would take them another ten to fifteen minutes to actually get enough
manpower together to launch a thorough search, so Kit figured he had about
twenty to twenty five minutes to find something that might incriminate or
vindicate the Foundation in Rose's activities.
Even
as he was stalking the halls, Jess was back in Washington trying to hack into
the Foundation's computer system. So
far, he had had no luck. It was very
unusual for Jess to have a hard time getting into a computer system. Apparently, the Foundation had spent more on
computer security than on building security.
He picked a lock and slipped into an office, pulling out a small flashlight
from his back pocket and flipping it on as he closed the door. There was a desktop computer on the desk
before him. Maybe he could help Jesse
out. If he could find some sort of
password then Jesse could do the rest.
He quickly searched the desk and the unlocked files cabinets behind
it. Nothing. There were other locked cabinets by the window. He picked the lock on one of them and
searched through it. Just as he was
about to give up, he found a post-it note on the bottom of the last drawer. "Thank God for forgetful people,"
he whispered. He pulled out his cell
phone and dialed Jesse's number. He
then grabbed a file and started flipping through it. "Jesse, got a password.
Can't promise it'll get you far but all you need is a window,
right?" He frowned at the file he
held in his hand. "Cool. The word is 'violets.' Hey, Jess, I have this file in my hand about
some study dealing with the effects of ecstasy on the senses of human
subjects. I think we may be on the
right track here. Study's not here
though. It's in San Francisco. Means they have installations in other places. I'll look for more here while you try to get
in. Good luck." He hung up.
He grabbed a few more files, holding his flashlight in his mouth as he
thumbed through them.
He
glanced at his watch. About ten minutes
left. There did not seem to be anything
in the files about Rose. There was
nothing else about research on human senses either. He put the files back and had just decided to try to get into
another office when his pager went off, vibrating against his side to let him
know he had a call. He grabbed it and
shined his light on the display. It was
Jesse and there was a 911 attached to the message. He clipped it back to his jeans and reached once again for the
phone. He called Jesse. "What?" he asked when Jess
answered. His best friend sounded
frantic. He had to get out, right
then. Forget it all, just get out. "Jesse, calm down. I have a few minutes left. Okay!
Okay, I'm going! You have some
explaining to do though."
He
sighed and tucked the phone away then swiftly made his way out of the office
and out of the building. When he was
off the grounds, he was calling Jesse back.
Obviously, Jess had gotten into the computer system and found something
bad. He wanted to know what.
The
phone was ringing. The fact snuck into
his sleep-fogged brain. Pete rolled
over and grabbed the phone.
"Yeah?"
"Pete,
we're fucked. They traced me. I don't even know how it happened but they
know it was me." Jesse's announcement cleared his mind instantly.
"Do
you know who they are?"
"Yeah
and it's bad. It's real bad."
"Tell
me."
"The
Freedom Coalition."
"Fuck! Get out of there! Where's Kit? Is he
out?" Pete practically fell out of
bed. The Freedom Coalition was a
paramilitary organization led by a very wealthy and very ruthless businessman
named George Baker. Pete had had a
run-in with Baker before. Baker had
wanted to hire the agency until he saw Kit.
The resulting confrontation ended with Pete throwing the man out of his
office and Kit threatening to kill the man if he ever saw him again. The last thing he needed was for Kit to come
face to face with Baker. As it was,
Baker's organization would be coming for them.
They needed to be elsewhere.
"Yeah. I just got off the phone with him. I didn't exactly tell him the truth, just
that I had been traced and that it was big trouble. He's on his way to Alex's cabin.
I suggest we join him. All of
us."
"Read
my mind. I'll call Maggie. She's wanted to go to Paris. Now would be a good time. I'll call Alex and Blair, too. Oh, shit!
And Jim. Why did it have to be
Baker!? Tell me you're out of your
apartment."
"Of
course! You think I'm stupid?"
"No!
Sorry. Meet you at Alex's cabin."
Pete
hung up the phone. Jesse was
right. It was bad. Pete's worst fear had come to pass. Baker's group was strong. What was more, they had Baker's money and
his contacts with several different governments and terrorist groups backing
them. Baker had clout.
Pete
grabbed the packed suitcase he kept for just this kind of situation out of the
closet and threw it on the bed. He
grabbed up the phone again and called Maggie even as he tossed his clothes
on. As he listened to Maggie's phone
ring, he let reality sink in. They
would have to take Baker down. They had
to find not just Rose and Barnes, but Baker as well. First they had to regroup, however. They could do that at Alex's.
The remote cabin was the safest option they had.
Jim
staggered into the loft. It was nearly
five in the morning. He just wanted to
collapse into bed. The stakeout, his
first since returning to duty, had been long and boring. By the end of it, he was questioning why he
had volunteered for the thing in the first place. Two steps into the loft and he remembered why. The emptiness of the place seemed to try to
swallow him up and make him just as empty.
He hated being here. He
sighed. A shower or bed, he asked
himself. The shower would feel good,
but his tired body convinced him that bed would feel better. He started for the stairs, but as he passed
the phone table, he noticed that the light was blinking on the answering
machine. Damn inconvenient things,
answering machines, but he pushed the button anyway.
"Jim,
it's Pete. Watch your back. We found out who was really backing
Rose. It's the Freedom Coalition. Sure you have heard of 'em. Bad news.
Thing is, they traced us when Jess hacked into their computer system. We're going underground for a bit. Don't worry about Blair. I'll take care of him. You just take care of you. We'll be in touch." The call disconnected and Jim found that he
was sitting on the bottom step leading to his bedroom. The Freedom Coalition. Yes, he had heard of them. At one time, there was a rumor that their
leader, George Baker, had tried to move in and absorb Kincaid's Sunrise
Patriots when Kincaid went down the second time, but the Patriots
resisted. Several of them, the upper
echelon of the organization, went missing in Seattle shortly thereafter. No trace was ever found.
Jim's
first impulse was to go pack his bags and head to D.C., but he knew that Pete
and the others, including Blair, would be long gone before he got there. It took several minutes, but he finally
squelched the impulse and resigned himself to waiting for Pete's next
call. In the meantime, he had to trust
Pete Devereaux to take care of Blair.
That was not a good feeling. He
got up and headed up the stairs, though he doubted he would be getting any
sleep now.
It
was after five in the afternoon when Simon finally arrived in D.C. Time zones really sucked sometimes. He hailed a cab and gave the man the address
of The Devereaux Agency. Twenty minutes
later, the cab pulled to a stop. Up
ahead, Simon could see fire trucks and police.
"Is there a way around this?"
"But
sir, this is where you wanted to go.
That is the Markham building."
"The
one that's on fire?"
"Yes,
sir."
"Well,
that just damn figures." He pulled
a twenty and a five from his wallet and gave it to the man. He got out of the cab and headed for the
first person that seemed to have some authority. He had come this far. He
was not going home empty handed.
Kit
was staring at him again. Pete had
managed to avoid him since Kit had arrived at the cabin just after dawn. He feigned sleep for a while and then took
an extra long shower. By then, Kit had
fallen asleep, having traveled all night.
But now he was awake and sitting in Alex's living room, glaring at
him. Kit was pissed. That was the only word that appropriately
described the man. He had not taken the
news that Baker and the Freedom Coalition was behind this whole conspiracy
well. Pete almost chuckled, but stifled
it in time to keep his head on his shoulders.
Kit would no doubt take it off for him if he thought Pete found anything
at all amusing right now. Not taken it
well was the understatement of the year, however, so Pete was amused at his own
gentle phrasing. Pete glanced over his
shoulder at the two men in the kitchen making lunch. Alex would protect him, he hoped; Blair was a good
peacemaker. Well, it was time to brave
the wrath of Kit Chase.
"I
know you're angry with me," he said calmly.
"Angry
with you? Is that what you think? Angry with you? You have a gift for understatement."
Pete
did not quite stop the chuckle that time, and he instantly regretted it. Kit was on his feet and screaming before
Pete managed to straighten his face.
"What
the hell is so damn funny, Pete?! You
think this is funny?"
"No!"
Pete held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "This situation is not funny. It's just that I was just thinking about my gift for
understatement and then you said--- well, never mind. Kit, I'm sorry."
"You
should be. I was there. I could have found the bastard if you hadn't
pulled the plug."
"I
didn't pull the plug, exactly."
"You
didn't?"
"No,
Jess did. They had tracked him. He freaked.
He called me afterward."
"And
this is your solution? Hide in the
woods?"
"Just
to regroup. Besides, you have been
wanting to get Blair out of the city for whatever it is that you plan to teach him
so here we are, out of the city."
"I
want George Baker, Pete. I want to take
that bastard down."
"I
know. We will. We don't have a choice, really. It's him or us. And it's gonna be him."
"I
could have found him!" Kit spun and hit the wall behind him.
Pete
grimaced.
"Hey! I like that wall without holes, thank
you!" Alex scolded from the kitchen.
"No,
Kit, you could have gotten caught. Then
where would we be? Jess said you only
had a few minutes left before they would have started tracking you down. Be patient.
We will finish this."
Pete
watched as Kit closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again, he gave Pete
an apologetic smile and shrugged.
"I hate that guy."
"I
think the feeling's mutual, if that makes you feel better." Pete laughed when his comment got a real
smile out of his friend.
"Yeah,
it does actually."
Jesse
came storming into the cabin then.
"Damn it, Alex, why do you have to live out here in the
boonies? Pete, we aren't gonna get a
signal out here. The cell phones are
useless. I keep getting no service
messages, no matter how I try to boost the power."
"Now
you know why I never bother to bring my cell phone, don't you?" Alex handed him a sandwich.
"Okay,
that's not good." Pete frowned
then shook it off. "But here's
what we'll do. Let's take a few days
here. Regroup, get some plans together,
rest up, let Baker think he's got us on the run and then do whatever it is that
we come up with—to do."
"You
don't have a clue, do you?" Blair asked as he passed Pete a plate of
sandwiches.
"No! I have a clue. I just don't have a plan.
But I will." Pete took a
sandwich and passed the plate to Kit.
"I will," he repeated softly, more to convince himself than
the others.
Okay,
so he was wrong. He was leaving
empty-handed. Simon had spent the rest
of the day and well into the night trying to track down Peter Devereaux or
anyone associated with the Devereaux Agency.
They were just simply gone. He
was not even able to find a home address for any of the men he had met. The only good news he had gotten out of the
trip was that the firemen did not find any human remains in the burned out
office. But that did not mean that
Blair was not in trouble. In fact, it
meant that Blair was definitely in trouble, but what kind Simon did not
know. He had left his card with the
D.C. police department and the investigator for the fire department with the
request that they notify him if they found out anything.
He
did not relish the thought of having to tell Jim what he had found. He boarded yet another red-eye flight that
would take him back to Cascade with a heavy heart. Jim was already an emotional wreck. Now, he had to tell the man that his estranged best friend was
missing and evidently, according to the investigator, there was foul play
involved.
Simon
sighed as he folded himself, rather uncomfortably, into the coach class
seat. Of course, he was not obtuse
enough to deny his own feelings of fear and loss. Simon had long ago admitted to himself that he cared for Blair
Sandburg. He admired the young man,
too. No matter what life threw at
Blair, he always seemed to land on his feet and managed to help a few others
along the way. Simon could only hope
that Blair was going to land on his feet this time too.
The
flight attendant was going over the emergency procedures, and though he had
heard the words many, many times before, he focused his troubled mind on what
she was saying so that maybe, just maybe, he could escape the feelings of doom
building up in his chest.
He
had lasted until lunch before he started searching for answers. He figured that for him that was probably a
record. Unfortunately, at nine o'clock,
Jim was still in the dark. He had
started with Pete's cell phone. The recording
informed him that the person he was trying to reach was not available. He had left a message on the voicemail, but
he had not gotten or really expected a response. That would have been too easy.
Then he had tracked down Chad Ryan, but the FBI agent had not been able
to tell him anything. Well, that was
not true. He had told Jim about the
fire that had destroyed the offices of The Devereaux Agency. The news nearly sent Jim into a blind panic,
but Ryan assured him that no one had died in the fire. He had tried to get Pete's home number out
of the agent, but Ryan had laughed at him and asked if he really thought Pete
was at home waiting by the phone. Jim
shook his head. It had been a stupid
idea.
After
some thought, Jim had finally come to the conclusion that they had probably
headed for the hills quite literally.
Morrow's cabin. He remembered
that Morrow had a remote cabin in the mountains that supposedly was hard to
find and even harder to get to. There
was just one problem. No one had ever
mentioned what mountains the damn place was in.
Resigning
himself to the fact that he was not going to find Blair right now, he decided
to do some research on Baker and the Freedom Coalition. He spent several hours going through not
only Baker's own website, but also the information about Baker on other sites,
both pro-Baker and anti-Baker. He found
out little that was new. It seemed that
if one knew one hate group, one pretty much knew them all. The rhetoric was the same. However, there was something on the League
of Human Rights website that linked Baker with several prominent citizens,
including a Republican Representative and several powerful CEO's. Jim shook his head. He made some notes and sent an email to Chad
Ryan with the URL of the website. He
would have sent it to Pete, but he did not know when Pete would get it and
besides, knowing Pete, he probably already knew. He shut down the computer and sat back in his chair.
He
glanced in the direction of his captain's office. Simon had been a no-show, and Jim was a bit puzzled about
that. No one seemed to know where he
was. He wanted to talk to somebody, and
with Simon gone, and Blair gone, there was no one for Jim to talk to. Jim ran one hand over his face. Of course, it would probably come as a shock
to those who knew him best that he was actually willing to talk about his
worries. There was a time in his life
when he would not have even entertained the thought of talking about his
emotions with anyone. It was Blair's
fault that he was entertaining the thought now. He felt a brief moment of anger at that. How dare Blair make him open up his heart
and then leave him without a friend to open it to. But he squashed that anger.
It was his own fault. He had
driven his friend away.
He
had sat there long enough. He was not
accomplishing anything. It was time to
go home. Sitting there, sifting through
his head was just depressing him. Then
again, the empty loft was going to be just as depressing. Maybe he would go out for a drink. Or two.
Maybe he would just get sloppy drunk.
That was an idea. He would drown
those dark thoughts if it took him all night.
He grabbed his jacket and exited the bullpen. O'Malley's Bar would be the best place. O'Malley did not water his drinks.
It
was three in the morning when he finally stepped out of O'Malley's to wait for
the cab he had called. Or rather, that
the bartender had called for him. Jim
was drunk. Seriously, completely,
undeniably drunk. He had not gotten
this drunk since his early days in the military when he was still dumb enough
to think it was cool. Well, it was not
cool now, but it was comfortable. It
was numbing. His troubles seemed a
world away now. Blair would be furious
though if he knew that Jim had gotten this drunk without someone there to help
him with his senses if they got out of whack.
Wait, he thought. He had
forgotten for a moment. There were no
sentinel senses to get out of whack.
And no Blair to find out that he was drunk. Okay, maybe Jim was not as numb as he thought. There was some pain, right in the middle of
his chest.
Suddenly,
there was someone standing next to him.
He turned and looked into a familiar face. It took him a minute to place it, and by the time he did, it was
too late. A new pain blossomed in his
head, and he was falling.
The
sunrise was awe-inspiring from the front porch of Alex's remote cabin. Blair had been to the Smoky Mountains before
when he was a teenager. He had actually
fallen in love with a beautiful Cherokee girl named Cecilia Lone Tree. He shook his head. That romance had not turned out the way he wanted. He turned his thoughts back to the morning. In no time, he stood mesmerized by the
pastel rainbow horizon before him. The
air was crisp and scented with the clean smells of pine and morning dew. His eyes drifted closed and he listened to
the songs of the birds and the gentle rustling of leaves on the cool
breeze. It would be so easy to just let
go and let the grandness of nature take him away from his troubles, if only for
a while, but Kit would be out any minute now.
He had told Blair that they had work to do this morning. He opened his eyes again, and the sky was
already more blue and less rainbowed than it had been just moments before. The blue had seeped into the pinks and
yellows, completing the transformation from night to day.
"'So
dawn goes down to day, nothing gold can stay,'" he whispered solemnly.
"That's
Frost." Kit's voice startled him.
"Yeah,"
he said, turning to look at his new friend.
"I
like that one."
"Not
sure if I like it that much."
Blair shrugged. "I just
remember it. It's about the loss of
innocence, you know?"
"Yeah. I guess that's a sore subject right
now."
"What?"
"Loss
of innocence."
Blair
was aware of the bitterness that slipped into his laugh. "I'm hardly innocent. Naïve maybe. Not innocent."
"Still. It's a reminder."
"I
guess." He shrugged again. "Anyway I like The Road Not Taken much
better."
"It
fits you." Kit smiled at him.
He
smiled back. "I think it fits all
of you better."
Kit
laughed then. "Maybe so. Well, are you ready?"
"I
think so."
"Good,
come on." Kit led the way down the
steps. "We're going to head out
into the woods. Watch me carefully. We're going to have to get past Alex's
little surprises again."
Blair
nodded and followed him. For several
minutes, neither of them spoke. Kit
pointed out Alex's traps as they came upon them, but no words passed between
them. Finally, the silence was too much
for Blair. He had questions, and he had
to ask them before he exploded.
"Where are we going exactly, and what are we going to do once we
get there?"
"We
are going to get in touch with Mother Earth, and then you are going to listen
to what she has to tell you."
"Oooo-kay."
Kit
grinned at his skepticism. "You'll
see. I'm pretty sure you have done this
before. Probably all your life as a
matter of fact, but you didn't know you were doing it and didn't understand the
messages."
"You
really do think that I'm a shaman?"
Blair shook his head. "I
don't think so. I mean, Incacha said he
passed the way of the shaman to me, but I don't feel it. And Jim's the one with the visions. I've had all of one vision, and I had to die
to have it."
Kit
was chuckling softly. Blair was not
amused, but he did not say anything. He
waited to a response.
"Blair,
I know you're a shaman. And nobody had
to pass it to you. You were born this
way. Okay, granted, some people can
learn to touch the spiritual, but there has to be something inside that makes
them receptive to it first. And you are
much more than just receptive to it, Blair.
There's power in you. I can feel
it. I imagine this Incacha could
too. Let me guess, native guy, red face
paint?" Kit stopped walking and
turned to face him.
"How'd
you know that?"
"I
saw him. Led me to you. Anyway, my granddad has a theory about all
this. He says that people born with the
gift never fully let go of the spirit world when they are born into this
one. So they always walk a line between
the physical world and the spirit paths, only having to step to one side or the
other to walk in either. You are one of
those people. Some people live their
whole lives not understanding their natures and therefore never experience
their own power. Some people recognize it
and learn to use it. And some people
use their power instinctively without ever learning to direct it or even having
knowledge of it. That's you, I think. I was born with it, but I had to learn to
use it. I think you're going to have a
much easier time of it than I did.
Truth be told, I didn't want it, and I resisted it for years. Now you, well, given the fact that you have
walked in the spirit world, all you have to do is understand and accept."
"You
mean, dying, right? When I died at the
fountain?"
"Yeah,
you walked in the spirit world and came back.
At some point, we all go through a rebirth. For some of us, it's ritual, spiritual, whatever. For you, it was an actual physical death and
rebirth. That's powerful, Blair."
"Understand
and accept, huh? Why do I have a
feeling that that's going to be easier said than done?" Blair frowned.
"That's
up to you. If you resist, it'll be
hard. If you let go, it'll happen
before you know it. This looks like a
good spot." He gestured around
them at the small clearing that Blair only noticed with the gesture.
"What
now?"
"Lie
down."
"Excuse
me?"
"Lie
down. Contact with the Earth will
help."
"On
the ground?"
"Uh,
unless you can levitate, I think the ground is your only option and levitation
would sort of defeat the purpose too."
Blair
glared at him, but Kit only smirked in return.
Finally, after determining that he was not going to get out of it, he
sat down and lay back. The ground was
cold, and it quickly sapped the warmth from his body.
"Close
your eyes," Kit ordered. Blair
complied. "Now, shut out
everything but my voice and the wind.
Just listen to me and the wind."
"What
about the birds?"
"No,
shut them out. Make them fade
away."
"You
sound like me talking to…" The
smile faded to a frown and Blair could not finish the sentence.
Kit
ignored him and went on. "In a
minute, I'm going to stop talking. When
I do, you can slowly add the birds and any other sounds you can hear,
acknowledge them as life, as living, then slowly turn your focus inward and
hear your own body as it works, feel the life there. Then focus down, below you, into the Earth. Feel her, hear her and you'll
understand."
Kit
said nothing more so Blair stopped listening for him and tried to do what he
said. As he attempted to accomplish his
task, he began to understand why it was so hard for Jim to control his
senses. He could not seem to get his
ears to cooperate. At first, everything
was too loud and nearly broke his concentration. Then when he tried to lower the volume, he lost too much. He was getting frustrated. He meditated all the time, for heaven's
sake. Why was it so hard all of a sudden? Finally, he thought he had just right,
everything in the right proportion. It
was not that different than what he had done on Alex's porch after all.
"Stop
thinking. Just feel and hear."
Kit's voice nearly scared him into a heart attack.
He was right though. Blair's mind was working too hard. It was distracting him. That was why it had been so difficult to achieve the meditative state he needed. He was still doing it, too! He sighed. He tossed out the distracting thoughts and finally sank down into the meditation.
Part 4