Wages of Sin

Danae

Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm not making money so please don't sue!

Thanks so much to my beta reader, Susn. And thanks to all the folks that read my stories and for all the great feedback that you send me!

Author's notes: I have a feeling that I may just catch a little hell over this one. First of all, I am one of those folks who were NOT terribly happy with the TSByBS. I was sort of challenged to "fix" it and for the longest time, I had no idea how to even start. As a matter of fact, all work stopped on my stories in progress because I just could not reconcile myself with what happened. Then I had this idea. I won't spoil my own story but some folks may not like me very much after this (Namely Jimbabes…He has it rough here… but it gets better!). No one dies; no one is permanently damaged. I am not that cruel. However, I don't know what to call this one. It's not AU, really. Then again, it does take a departure from canon. Call it AU to be safe. Also, the story will include characters from The Agency.

Wages of Sin

Blair Sandburg was attempting, once again, to take aim on the paper target that he had yet to hit with a single bullet when a tap on his shoulder nearly sent his heart into his feet and the gun right down there with it. He lowered the hated weapon slowly and tried to lower his heart rate at the same time. However, that was not going to be possible. He was about to get chewed out again. Par for the course, really, but just as stressful every time. Sergeant Crimmons hated him and made no secret of it. Whether it was the fact that Blair was headed straight to Major Crimes after graduation despite his checkered reputation or the fact that Blair had just gotten to the point in firearms class where he was not closing his eyes when he pulled the trigger, Blair was not sure. Perhaps a little or a lot of both, he guessed. So, Blair prepared himself for the insults as he removed the headset that protected his ears and turned to face his nemesis. However, it was not Crimmons he faced. There were two men in military uniforms standing a little too close for comfort. Blair stepped back and hit the little shelf on the wall of his little booth.

"Mr. Sandburg, come with us please," one of them announced abruptly.

He nearly fainted. He simply knew what they wanted. Recanting his dissertation was not enough. He had sealed his own and Jim's fate with that damn paper. Play dumb, his panicked head instructed. "Why?" he croaked.

"We need to speak to you about James Ellison."

Blair was shocked to get such a straight answer. "What about him?" He was sticking with the "dumb" strategy until something better came along.

"We'll explain on the way."

"I don't think so. I'm not going anywhere with you. Where's Jim?"

"We would be taking you to him, sir."

Blair swallowed the lump in his throat. They already had Jim. "I-uh, I need to make a call first," he stammered.

"No calls, Mr. Sandburg," the first man told him. The second man, who had not spoken at all, moved forward and grabbed Blair by the arm with one hand while he plucked the forgotten gun from Blair's hand with the other. Blair stared at him dumbly as the soldier tossed the gun on the shelf. Then the man's rough grasp propelled Blair from the booth and toward the door of the indoor firing range.

Blair tried to catch Crimmons' eye but the older man was involved with another cadet. He was led out of the building and off of the Academy grounds. A blue four-door sedan waited by the curb.

"Get in the back, Mr. Sandburg."

Bad idea, Blair's head balked and he spun quickly out of his captor's grip. He had no real plan, just the overwhelming desire to avoid getting in that car. Confront or run? He never got the chance make that decision. A sharp pain in the side of his neck turned out to be a syringe. The world started to turn gray and hazy around the edges and his knees gave way. The last thing he would remember later would be the malicious grin on the face of the man who shoved him into the back seat of the car.

Captain James Ellison pitched his cell phone into the passenger’s seat of his truck and sighed. He had known the call was coming. He would have rather had a little more time. He needed more time. However, what he needed or wanted had just been rendered irrelevant by that damned phone call. He glared at the phone as it lay against his thigh, face up, mocking his futile wishes and complete helplessness. They knew him too well and had anticipated his moves. He had been scolded like a child for the safety deposit box. The airline tickets had been canceled. He should have told somebody. He should have told Blair. But he was a soldier. Once covert ops, always covert ops. He knew that. They called and he was theirs to do with as they pleased. And now, they wanted Blair too. They already had him. He should have told Blair. But it was top secret, national security, strictly need to know. Blair had needed to know. He had accused Blair of betrayal, of violating trust on more than one occasion. God, what a hypocrite I turned out to be, he accused.

To make matters worse, he had been instructed to report immediately and say nothing to anyone, including Simon. The department would be notified of his return to "active duty." Gentle euphemism for what they had in mind.

"Glad you could join us, Captain Ellison."

"Is that absolutely necessary?" Jim motioned to the window in front of him.

"He was not inclined to cooperate. We had to sedate him and once here, we didn't want him to hurt himself," the man Jim knew as Dr. Rose explained.

Jim drew one hand across his face and sighed as he stared at the scene on the other side of the glass. His Guide was there, unconscious and strapped to a table. "I told you that I would bring him in."

"Was that before or after the safety deposit box and the airline tickets? Judging by what we found, Captain, you were considering going AWOL rather than continuing the study. We couldn't allow that to happen. You are a very valuable man, Captain."

"So you hold him to hold me? I'm here now. Let him go."

Jim could actually hear the man behind him smile. "Are you really going to pretend you don't know?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jim demanded.

"Come now, Captain, remember our discussions of Burton's monograph?"

"I remember. I remember everything, thanks to you."

"Burton said that these 'sentinels' needed a companion. He didn't say much more than that really so we had to improvise, hypothesize what this companion would be like. We came up with a profile from what Burton did write about the companion and some educated guesses."

"Yeah, yeah. What's that got to do with Blair?"

"I promised to find you one of those companions, didn't I? You see, I contacted some prominent scientists in the fields of psychology, psychiatry, sociology and anthropology and asked for their help in finding a suitable candidate. Dr. Eli Stoddard was one of those scientists. I gave him our profile." Jim could only stare at Rose in horror. His brain tried to assimilate the information he was receiving but the picture that was forming was not pretty. While Jim stood motionless, the weight of this reality bearing down on him, Rose continued. "It took us a little while to come up with the right one. We were sent a lot of names and we watched them, led them in the right directions, hoping that they would show some promise. None of them did until Blair Sandburg. He was just a kid then, a promising student, looking for an interesting subject for his master's thesis. It really was a wonderful coincidence that Eli and thus Blair were both right in your hometown. Of course, we were skeptical. Blair was a little too young and a lot too liberal. He was one that we didn't really think would be compatible with you, but yet, he was the only one to pick up our clues and run with them. He found the monograph and became our expert, our candidate for the office of Sentinel's companion. Actually, I think you call him your Guide. Mr. Brackett was kind enough to provide the term. It is better than companion. Too many connotations there that would not sit well in our line of work."

"You chose Blair? You never said---"

"Well, we had to make sure he would continue to be interested first. And, frankly, I was worried that you would not accept him. You were so military and, well, he wasn't and isn't. At any rate, we worked very hard to make sure that your paths would cross. It was not a small task to keep Mr. Sandburg from disappearing into the jungles to find his Sentinel. On many occasions, he nearly slipped away from us. Stoddard was not exactly what I would call helpful either. Of course, he never really knew the nature of our interest in his star pupil and that did not help matters. He thought we were interested in seeing someone research the subject because we couldn't get government funding. He believed that he was doing an old friend from high school a favor while simultaneously finding a challenging subject for a favored student. And before you ask, Mr. Sandburg was and is completely innocent of any subterfuge. Eli and the Colonel felt it was best not to let him know that his studies were being directed, his life orchestrated, if you will, by anyone. He was and is too independent minded to stand for that. He would have headed for the hills."

"Who could blame him?" Jim muttered, remembering his own flight response when the first call had come and he realized just how orchestrated his own life had been.

"Yes, well, now perhaps you understand why we felt it best that we not tell you about Mr. Sandburg and that you forget all about the project until he was ready, and we had a chance to see if the two of you would work well together. We decided that it would be easier for both of you to meet on your own terms. Believe me, I was still very surprised when it worked out so well."

"So how did you do it? Keep Blair in Cascade? Make sure we met?"

"Oh, that." Rose chuckled. "Blair was easy, really. We made sure that Rainier offered him too many opportunities for him to leave. After all, he never had any money. Scholarships and grants simply fell into his lap at our say-so."

Jim shook his head. "No, Blair did all that himself."

"Actually, you're right. He did the majority of it himself, I'll admit. He got the early entrance and the first scholarship all by himself. He pulled himself through those first years but after Eli recommended him to us, truthfully, every grant he has ever gotten to study sentinels directly came right from here. Face facts, Captain, to the rest of the world, including the world of Anthropology, you are a myth. A fable of some superhero that people wish for but know will never actually come along to save the day. Who else would have financed his search? And again, coincidence stepped in so that we didn't have to lift a finger to bring the two of you together. We weren't ready in actuality. We were in the process of arranging to pull you in and correct the problem with the regression therapy when instead you were suddenly in our Mr. Sandburg's office. I talked the Colonel into letting nature take its course."

"Jesus."

"It was quite satisfying to watch the two of you work things out on your own. And since you were remembering the senses, so to speak, but not remembering the project, I felt no need to interfere with you. So, things were going along beautifully and we were just about to pull you in when Alicia Bannister AKA Alex Barnes entered the picture. Three years of research and it was about to be flushed down the toilet, or the fountain.” He smirked at Jim as if Jim should appreciate his wit then sobered again. “We were not terribly happy with your performance, Captain. Intrigued, yes. Happy, no. We felt it was time to reactivate the memories of the project before it was endangered again. The colonel was worried that you would tell Blair. I had to remind him what a good soldier you were. I had to remind him just how good you were with covert operations." Rose laughed a little. "Your whole life has been a covert operation, after all. Then you had to go and embarrass me with your little escape attempt." He shook his head. "I thought you were a loyal American serviceman, Captain. What were you thinking?"

Jim turned away from the man's steel gray gaze.

"Oh, I understand. You've been away from the military for several years now. You've perhaps forgotten the importance of following orders. Maybe you can't quite remember the oaths you took. This work is important, Captain. You are a weapon. We have to find out how you work so that we can---"

"Build a better soldier?"

"Exactly."

"I remember my oaths, Dr. Rose. I know how to follow orders."

"Then explain those false documents in the safety deposit box. Explain your tickets to New Mexico and then onto Peru."

"I'm here, aren't I? I could have used them anytime but I'm here instead."

"And the fact that I have Blair Sandburg strapped to a table in the next room has nothing to do with that, I suppose."

Jim swore and raked one hand through his crew cut. "He's not military, damn it! You can't just snatch him out of his life and---"

"But we already have and what life anyway? He gave it up for you. Now, that's loyalty. The colonel said that he knew why they were there. He could see the knowledge, the panic, and the self-recrimination in our Mr. Sandburg's eyes. That young man will do anything for you, won't he? Well, we'll see about that. And you," Rose shook his head. "I'm not sure if you were really that angry with him or if you were just trying to drive him away. Did you think you could make him go and that somehow it would save him from us? Really, Captain Ellison, if he had not left after the Barnes incident or over the way you have behaved since our first call to reactivate you, he was not going to desert you. You have been the very definition of a hard ass the last few months.” Rose raised his eyebrows and smiled at him. “I'd like to think that your ops training kicked in, but somehow, I think I'd be wrong. Well, you should get some rest. The Sentinel Project will resume its work bright and early tomorrow morning. Don't worry about Mr. Sandburg. He'll be fine. He should be well rested at the very least. Oh, and your captain has already been sent notification of your status. At your loft, he'll find a vague note from Mr. Sandburg stating that he just didn't feel comfortable in the Academy and with you back in the Army; he sees no reason to hang around. Given his tendency to roam, and the wonderful forgery by our handwriting expert, he'll believe it. It's a shame really. The dissertation was very good. Good night, Jim and welcome back."

Jim banged his head on the observation window twice before turning his back to it and walking out of the room.

Captain Simon Banks had not had the most pleasant day of his life when he opened the last envelope of his mail. Daryl was having trouble with English and his ex-wife expected him to "fix" it. Okay, Blair Sandburg would be the solution to that problem. The latest case to fall into the collective lap of Major Crimes was a nightmare; the murder of a prominent Cascade businessman with suspected ties to black market babies. It was earmarked for Ellison. Last, but certainly not least, was the four-hour meeting with the new police commissioner and the Mayor. He just wanted to get home but he had needed to get through the stack of mail on his desk first. He had thought that his day could not possibly get worse but as he read the very official document that he had pulled from that last envelope in the stack, he realized that he was wrong.

"Jesus," he whispered as he tossed the paper on the desk and rubbed his temples. "Sandburg."

Simon knew that the young man would not take this news well. He needed to get to the loft. He was out of his office and on the elevator before anyone in the bullpen had a chance to ask where he was going.

He drove like a man possessed, even using the siren. He pulled up outside the loft in a fraction of the time it should have taken. He raced up the stairs only to find an envelope with his name on it taped to the front door. He looked at it for long minutes before he hesitantly reached out and took it. He opened the envelope and withdrew the short note inside. Blair was gone. He apologized for not being able to "cut it" at the Academy and explained since Jim was gone, so was his reason for staying in Cascade. It was signed "Sincerely, Blair Sandburg." Simon punched the door.

He made his way down to his car. So Blair was having a hard time at the Academy. Simon had no idea that the young man was not doing well, but he intended to find out exactly what had gone wrong. As he got behind the wheel, he realized that he had just lost his two closest friends in the same day. He let his head fall back to rest on the seat.

The hazy white cloud above him solidified into a white ceiling that looked suspiciously like a hospital ceiling. He tried to raise one hand to rub his eyes but the hand would not move. He tried the other, but it would not budge either. He panicked and instinctively tried to sit up only to discover that his body was immobilized. "Oh God," he whispered as he tried desperately to snatch his hands free from the restraints.

"Please, Mr. Sandburg, you'll only injure yourself and we don't want that." The voice filled the white room. Blair turned his head to see his reflection staring back at him. "Yes, it's a two way mirror, Mr. Sandburg. Can I call you Blair? I think Blair would be better. Do you know why you're here, Blair?"

"Who are you? Where's Jim?"

"Captain Ellison is just fine. Don't worry about him. Right now, Blair, what I need from you is information. I need your notes and the master copy of your dissertation. We checked the loft and the storage space where you have the things from your office and we found nothing."

"I trashed it all. It was all a lie. I made it up. Please let us go."

"I'm afraid not, Blair. I'll let you think about it for a bit."

"No, wait!" A click told Blair that his captor was no longer listening or at least not talking to him anymore. "Oh God, Jim, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, man. I'm sorry."

Jim stood at attention just as he had been ordered. Colonel Maxwell Adler, Pentagon Special Projects Director, stood to his right. Dr. Robert Rose was at his left. His jaw ached as he heard Blair blame himself for their predicament and apologize to him, probably hoping Jim could hear him. Jim could hear him all right. How could he miss it as he stood between the two men who played the strings of his life?

"I thought you read the dissertation," he growled, even though he had not been given permission to speak.

"Oh, I have. I have my own copy. We found his notes as well. Your partner had his own safety deposit box. But this isn't about the dissertation. It is simply a means to an end."

"What end is that?"

"This is a test, Captain Ellison. You are a trained officer in the elite Army Rangers. You are trained to withstand torture without giving up secrets but Blair is, well, he's the son of a bleeding heart liberal with values left over from the sixties that she passed on to him. Like I told you, we never thought the two of you would be compatible and Blair's ideology and naiveté were the reasons for those doubts. We need to know just how loyal he is to you and how long he will remain loyal."

"You can't be serious!"

"Captain!" Adler spoke up. "I think you had better remember what you are and where you are."

"Yes, sir." Jim tried to keep his tone even. Rose could spew his trash until he was blue in the face but Jim knew what and who was being tested.

"You can go back to your room now." Rose smiled blandly.

Jim turned and saluted the Colonel before leaving the room. As he walked down the hallway, he tried to put away Jim Ellison. He shoved the man who gave a damn into the farthest corner of his mind and resurrected Captain James Ellison, who would not have given a hippie kid like Sandburg the time of day much less a place in his heart. If indeed he had a heart at all.

Simon arrived at the Academy and walked straight into the Commandant's office without a second glance at the protesting secretary. "Hank, got a few questions I need answered."

"Simon! How's it going up there in Major Crimes?" The man stood from his desk and offered his hand to Simon.

"Too damn busy, Hank."

"I guess you're checking up on your boy?"

"Something like that." Simon withdrew the letter and handed to his old friend. "Can you give me some idea about that?"

Hank Franklin read the letter and shook his head. He handed it back. "I honestly don't know, Simon. The only thing I can tell you is that he was having some trouble in firearms class. He excelled at everything else. I was going to try to talk to him about that this week. I know Crimmons is a hard ass, but he's a good instructor. Still, I think there might be a problem there. I spoke to Crimmons but he said that Sandburg was just afraid of the weapon and that he was being hard on him to toughen him up."

"But you think it's more than that?"

"Maybe. There seems to be some resentment floating around regarding the special arrangements that were made for the kid, Simon. You had to know that was going to happen. Some of the cadets gave him a hard time. He handled it pretty well, all in all. Even asked me to stay out of it. Most of it was essentially harmless, anyway. Making smartass remarks, pulling his ponytail, shoving him a little in the hallway, that sort of thing. Don't know that we did him a favor when we allowed him to bypass the haircut. At any rate, harassment coming from an instructor, even the harmless stuff is unacceptable. I wanted to talk to the kid to see if Crimmons was guilty but he didn't show up today and now I know why."

"I want to see Crimmons."

"Sure thing. I'll call him in."

Minutes later, Sergeant John Crimmons entered the office. Simon watched the man carefully as he came to a stop in front of Commandant Franklin's desk, his eyes straight forward, refusing to acknowledge Simon's presence. "John, this is Captain Simon Banks from Major Crimes. He wants to ask you a couple of questions."

"I don't know where Sandburg is, Captain." Crimmons turned to face Simon with a look of annoyance on his face. "I didn't ask where they were taking him. It obviously wasn't my business."

Simon was so ready to lay into the guy that the implications of what he had said nearly escaped him. As it was, he stuttered and sputtered as he tried to shift his mental gears to get up to speed. "Wh-Who took him? When? Why didn't you tell somebody? What the hell is going on here? Are you saying that somebody just walked into the Academy and took him out? A Police Academy? And you did nothing?"

"They were military. One of them was a Colonel, Captain. I figured they had a good reason. Although I can't think for the life of me what they want with him. The kid can't half hold onto his gun and he's a lousy shot even when he does. Of course, that could be because he won't keep his damn eyes open. I mean, we all know why that boy was here. Some serious strings got pulled and hocus-pocus, he's on his way to being a cop. But let me give you a piece of information. He's got no business carrying a badge. Know why? 'Cause he's got no business carrying a gun. So if the military wants him, then hey, that just means I don't have to deal with him anymore. Besides, I'm just a lowly Police Academy instructor. Who am I to argue?"

Simon was too busy trying to grasp the gravity of this situation to have even bothered to interrupt Crimmons' speech but since the man was finished and Simon needed to vent on somebody, Crimmons was about to get a few pieces of information himself. "Sergeant, let me enlighten you. First of all, it's none of your damn business how Sandburg got here. It was your business to teach him what he needed to know. Your failure to do so is not his problem. It's yours. In addition, I would be willing to bet he's already a better investigator that you would ever be, which is why you are a 'lowly Police Academy instructor' and he was on the fast track to Major Crimes. For example, did it ever occur to you to question these men, get names, check to see if they had permission to be here? What if the uniforms were fake?" Simon knew they were not but Crimmons had not. "No, you asked nothing. You did nothing. I bet Blair Sandburg asked questions. And since you seem so dissatisfied with your title here, perhaps you'd like another. I think I could arrange for you to have a brand new title. What about lowly crossing guard?" Simon turned back to his friend. "Hank, obviously things aren't what they seemed to be. Somebody took Sandburg out of here, possibly against his will. I'll need to talk to anyone and everyone who saw those men here yesterday."

"You got it. Crimmons, you're suspended until this is straightened out. Get out of my office."

"Sir!"

"You heard me. Go." Once the man was gone, Hank Franklin turned back to Simon and sighed. "What do you think is going on, Simon?"

"I think Sandburg and Ellison are in deep trouble," Simon grumbled distractedly.

"If I can help in any way..."

"Keep Sandburg's place here open. I'm going to find my men."

"Whatever you need, Simon."

"Thanks." Simon shook his hand then made his way out of the office. "What a nightmare," he whispered. Something was not right here. Jim being called back up for duty he could buy. But a colonel coming to see Sandburg and taking the young man out of the Academy? No, that was not kosher. The military had Jim and Blair and Simon knew exactly why the military wanted them. At one time, Simon had had some contacts in the military but most of them were gone, retired. The few that were left did not have the clout needed to help him find his friends. He rubbed his temples with one hand as he got into his car. He had no idea how to proceed. He just knew that he could not give up. As he drove into the station, he wondered what was happening to his friends while he sat by, helpless. Should have known something was wrong, he berated himself silently as he thought back to the note he had found at the loft. "Sincerely, Blair Sandburg?" Not the way Blair would have signed that note. Why didn't I pick up on that? Nothing he could do about that now. Then it came to him. He could not go directly to the military but he did know someone who could perhaps get the information he needed through some not so direct channels. And it was someone he would not to have to tiptoe around, someone who would want to help. He picked up his cell phone and dialed his office. "Rhonda, get me the number for the Devereaux Agency in D.C. It should be in my rolodex."

Peter Devereaux threw the rather thick file folder on his desk and sighed heavily. This was bad. Really bad. He punched the intercom. "Maggie, call in Jesse and Kit please and get us tickets to Cascade ASAP. And call Ronald MacNamara at the CIA. Tell him I'm calling in a favor and I'll be back in touch as soon as I figure out how to proceed."

"Gotcha, Pete," came back the response from the little speaker.

He sat back in his chair and turned to stare out of his office window. "Damn, Jim. What were you thinking? Were you thinking at all? I don't know if I can get you out of this. It's gonna take some fancy footwork and I don't know if I can do the dance. And you dragged Blair down with you. You bastard, how could you do this?"

Distance, distance, distance. Discipline, soldier. Remember who you are, why you are here, what you are trying to accomplish. It's all for the good of the country. Captain James Ellison fell into the rigid structure of military life and let it numb him. He was a soldier, first and foremost. This study had helped him after Peru. He would have lost his mind after Peru had it not been for Dr. Rose. The return of his missing memories told him that much. He remembered the day that Dr. Rose told him that they had reached an impasse in the study and could do no more to help him. But they had a solution. They could block out all memory of his enhanced senses and let him get on with his life until such time that they had some more answers. He had agreed readily. When it was done, he was missing a major portion of his life, all knowledge of his time in Peru included, but the senses were gone. He was normal. What they didn't expect was that the senses would come back on their own as well as bits and pieces of his memories. What he didn't know was that they had found what he needed and was working on bringing it into his life. They had found Blair Sandburg. It was more than a little disconcerting that their lives had been so manipulated, but as much as Jim did not like it, Captain Ellison accepted the necessity of it. He stretched out his muscles carefully after his run and then headed for the showers. He was due in the observation room in few minutes. Sandburg's interrogation was to resume today. They had left him to think the day before but it was time to get down to business. Distance. It was all part of a plan. The plan. It was important. It was his life.

"Captain Banks, nice to see you again. Circumstances aside, I mean." Peter Devereaux held out his hand and Simon shook it.

"Devereaux," was his simple reply.

"I'm sure you remember Jesse."

"Riviera, right?" Simon smiled. The hair was a bit shorter, still longer than Sandburg's, but the multicolored string wrapped braids were gone.

"Yes, sir. I do prefer Jesse though." The young man grinned at him. "And as much as I hate to say it, I don't really remember you, sir."

"No, I don't imagine that you would. Glad to see you're back on your feet."

"And this is Kit Chase." Devereaux introduced his other man and Simon examined him closely for the first time. He was obviously of Native American descent. Nearly black eyes met Simon's with a light that belied the darkness of their color. Hair longer than Jesse's and Blair's put together hung down the man's back and was even darker than the eyes. Simon imagined that Kit Chase had to beat the women off with a stick.

"Mr. Chase." Simon offered his hand.

"Kit," he corrected as he gripped Simon's hand.

"Well, introduction's are over. Let's get down to business, gentlemen. Captain, you lead the way. We need a private place to talk."

"So you did find out something?"

"Oh yeah, and you aren't going to like it, Captain. Not one little bit."

"Don't worry, Captain Ellison. The drug does not actually cause any damage at all. It simply causes the mind to believe that the body is in pain. It's the newest thing in interrogation drugs."

"I'm not worried." Ellison did not turn to acknowledge the man. He simply stared passively through the observation window at the scene beyond. "Why would I worry?"

Sandburg was in pain. He could see that. He did not hear it, however. He had the dial turned down. A stab of guilt pierced his chest for a split second as he thought about how he owed that ability to the man strapped to the table in the next room. The man he observed as coldly at the two men next to him. He shut down those traitorous emotions with a blink of his eyes and a slight tilt of his head.

"I thought he was your friend. Your partner?" Jim could hear the sneer in Rose's voice.

"He was a means to an end. He had answers that I needed. And if he's going to continue to be my 'partner' then he'll pass this test. As you well know, I've always had questions about his loyalty. He's violated my trust more than once. Well, now we see just where he stands, right?"

Colonel Adler stepped up beside him and slapped him on the shoulder. "Spoken like a good soldier, Captain. You had me worried before but I think you've come to your senses."

"Well, I'm not so easily convinced. I was your champion, Captain, before we found out about those airline tickets. You disappointed me and I'll take a bit more convincing." Rose flipped a switch on the panel in front of them and Jim was treated to the sounds that he had not allowed his Sentinel ears to hear. Sobs were interspersed with gasps of pain and Jim turned the dial down another notch. Then another, so that he barely heard Rose's question. "So, Blair, are you ready to talk to me now?"

"Nothing to--" another gasp, "ah, god--to talk about. Lied." He seemed to lose his breath then and struggled against the pain and tears to get it back. "Wasting time," he grounded out through clenched teeth. "What have you done to me?"

"Nothing that can kill you, I assure you. Although, if you persist in this defiance, you may wish you were dead. Blair, we already know that your research is not fraudulent. Make things easy for us all and tell us where to find your notes and the master copy of your dissertation. As soon as you do, we will allow you to rejoin Captain Ellison and you may resume your work with him."

"Where's Jim? Please, you have to be careful," Blair begged for Jim even in his own pain, and Ellison shook his head.

"Stupid kid," he muttered absently.

Rose glanced at him then turned back to Blair. "Why do we need to be careful with Captain Ellison if your work was all lies?"

No response.

"Well, Blair?"

"I have---nothing to say--to you. Go away."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. You will talk to me, Blair. Or you will never leave this place. Imagine that."

"Please, I can't."

"You will."

But he did not. Ellison left the observation room two hours later. Sandburg was not speaking at all by that time. Rose had called it quits for the day. The interrogation would continue the next morning. In the meantime, Rose had some tests for him. He wanted to see if Jim's abilities had increased with Sandburg's guidance. He was torn. Did he show them everything or hold back? He knew that all of his senses had gotten stronger in the years that he worked with Sandburg. If he showed them his true range then what would they do? If he did not, what would they do? Did he really need Sandburg? If he did, how would they react? If he did not, how long would the kid last should they figure it out? He sighed. He did need him. To pretend that he did not was ludicrous. It was a fact of his life. So, where did he go from here? What options did he have? None really. He had sealed his own fate. And Blair Sandburg's. He wished that it were not so but wishing did no good. Best to just keep focused on the project. It was time to jump through the hoops like a good little circus dog.

Part 1b