SENTINEL DISTRICT

by Wintersrose

LMFA Nominee for "Best Crossover - Gen - 2005"

Blair Sandburg thumped the eraser of the pencil that he worked with back and forth, back and forth, making an almost rhythmic quality out of the beat, and he sighed as he looked up at the clock again, counting down the minutes until he and his erstwhile roommate and Sentinel, James Ellison, could go home.  

Blair, coming from a background of report writing extraordinaire with his previous studies in the field of anthropology, didn’t mind a little paperwork.  He, after all, wrote an interminable amount of papers when he was still in college, working toward his doctorate in anthropology but, for some reason, writing reports about his latest case bored him silly.  

At least it did at the moment.  What more could you say than “At 6:00 p.m. last night, yadda yadda, blah blah blah…”  

Blair sighed again and went back to thumping his pencil on the table, only to have it summarily pulled out of his hand a moment later and set down, quietly, on the table beside him.  Blair looked up into the irritated face of his partner and grinned.  

“Uh, something wrong?” he asked, innocently.  

“You know what’s wrong, Ringo,” Jim said, placidly.  “You’re pounding stakes into my head, that’s what’s wrong.”  

“Er… sorry?”  Blair tried on his most innocent smile, only to have Jim return it with a glower.  

“Nice try, Junior.  Now finish that report so we can go home.”  

Blair sighed.  So much for escaping the report writing for the night.  Trust Mr. Anal to want to get it all done right now, this very second.  

“Ellison!  Sandburg!  My office!”  

Saved by the bellow!  Blair grinned over at his roommate and chuckled.  Jim sighed and shook his head, his glare clearly asking ‘what did you do now?’ as they crossed over to Captain Simon Banks’ office and went inside.  

“You called, Captain?” Blair asked, still striving for innocence – it never hurt if you did something wrong that you didn’t remember, right?  

“Something’s come up that you two need to handle,” Simon said, without preamble.  

“What’s that, sir, if you don’t mind me asking,” Jim asked as he settled into one of the open chairs.  Blair perched on the edge of Simon’s desk – as usual – and waited.  

“You have a new case,” Simon said as he pulled out a cigar and began to chew on it, while using his other hand to pass file folders over to his two detectives.  “It seems that the Washington D.C. Internal Affairs division needs our help to track down a detective from the Metro P.D. in D.C.  One Kevin Debreno is wanted for the excessive force – slash – murder of two suspects in D.C. and they have reason to believe that he’s coming to this area.”  

“A detective murdering suspects?” Blair asked.  “How tight is the evidence?”  

“The Captain who will be assisting you in this investigation will be bringing in the particulars with him.  They’ve faxed over a brief summary, which is what I’ve given you.”  

“A captain?” Jim looked up at his Captain, a suspicious expression on his face.  “May I ask who, sir?”  

Banks looked down at a pad of paper on his desk and read the name out loud.  “Vincent Hunter, Captain, Internal Affairs.”  

Blair watched in some surprise as Jim’s face went stone cold and he slammed his file folder down on top of Simon’s desk.   

“With all due respect, sir,” Jim said.  “I refuse to take this case.”  

Blair looked back over at Simon, who looked as though someone told him his pet fish died.  Simon stood and towered over them both, both hands flat on top of his desk.  

“And why is that, Detective?” Banks asked his best detective.  

“I’ve met Captain Hunter before,” Jim’s voice, cold as ice, dipped lower and lower.  “And we didn’t get along.  He’s a liability, sir, and he’s dangerous.”  

Banks frowned and picked up yet another file folder, studying it.

Then he stopped and looked up at Jim.  

Then he looked back down at his file folder.  

“No, we are not related,” Jim said before Simon could ask a word.  “And as for anything else in that record, let me tell you what happened here.”  

Blair listened as Jim told Simon about his first meeting with Captain Hunter – back then a Lieutenant Hunter, again on the trail of a fugitive cop.  Why, Blair wondered, did fugitive cops come to Cascade, of all places?  Didn’t they know it rained here all the time?  

During the course of working with Hunter, a woman who was dating the fugitive cop had been shot and killed – because Hunter had charged into a situation and reacted without giving it any extra thought or without due process of any kind.  He had not been the cop to fire the gun that killed the woman – but his, in Jim’s opinion, reckless actions had caused the woman to die, needlessly – and Jim had never forgiven him for it.  

“All the more reason for you to work with this man, again, detective,” Simon said.  “If we let him loose on the streets of Cascade, he could end up killing this cop rather than bringing him in.  This way, you can make sure it’s all done safely – and by the book.”  

Jim frowned, as he continued to glare, hostilely.  

“Fine, sir,” Jim said, knowing when he was beaten.  He took the file folders back and handed them off to Blair, who caught them just in time.  Jim turned and walked out the door, practically stomping, his expression warning away anyone who might be curious about their new case.  

And, suddenly, another mountain blocked their path and Blair, in stunned amazement, looked up and up and up…  

At another Jim.  

Identical, from their eyes, to their hair, to their height, weight and even granite-like expressions, both men looked…like twins.  

Blair stepped up one step, just to make sure he wasn’t in between the two of them.  

And Jim stood, staring at Hunter, Jim’s expression as cold as ice.  

Anal and more anal.  

Detective Blair Sandburg watched the two men as they stared at each other, sizing one another up in a way that made most men around them cringe and back away, in case they got caught in the crossfire.  Blair stood motionlessly, blue eyes intent on the scene before him as the detective from Cascade and the IA Captain from D.C. eyed each other, similar blue-eyed gazes locked.   

It was a scene to make a weak man cry and a strong man whimper.  

"Hunter."  

Ellison broke the stalemate first as he stepped back from the other man.  The single word, curtly spoken, spoke volumes about his disdain for the man before him. 

Blair, involuntarily, backed up a couple more steps, just to maintain some distance between the two imminent explosions.  

"Ellison."  

Even the voices were eerily similar, like they were twins separated at birth or something.  Blair knew better, knew that Jim had no brothers other than Steven, and definitely not a twin.   

"Feel the love, Hairboy," Detective Henri Brown said into Blair's ear a moment later as the two men stepped further away from each other.  "Feel the love."  

"If that's love, I'm moving to a monastery in Tibet and giving up women," Blair vowed.  "Totally, man.  This is weird.  No.  This is dangerous.  It's like waiting for Vesuvius to explode again.  Can't you feel it about to happen?"  

"I can feel something.  I'd say we go for coffee and, when we come back, see which one of them is still standing," Brown commented, idly.  "I'm thinking about taking bets around here.  Maybe we should put them in a ring…"  

Ellison's eyes moved slowly from his adversary before him to the two men standing to one side, one whose arms were crossed in unabashed amusement and the other who flitted back and forth from foot to foot, bouncing nervously in place as he watched them.  Ellison's steel-eyed gaze locked, for a moment, on Brown, before Brown wisely raised his hands in surrender and backed off, leaving Blair once more on his own.  

"I hoped you'd think twice about coming back to Cascade, Hunter," Ellison said, his voice a low hiss of warning that made the hairs on the back of Blair's neck stand on end.  Blair shivered at that voice – he'd heard it a few times in the last five years and it never boded well for the person on the receiving end of that warning.   

"I have a job to do," Hunter said in an equally dangerous voice, and Blair contemplated insisting that both men hand over their weapons before someone got killed.  He realized he had as much chance of that as becoming President but something had to be done.  He was about to step forward when Ellison spoke again.  

"I think you should go back to D.C.," Ellison warned the other man.  "I don't take fools lightly in Cascade and that's all you proved yourself to be.  You were foolish – and dangerous – and you got her killed."  

"I did my job!" Hunter declared, his voice rising in anger.  "And that's what I'm going to do now, with or without your help, Ellison.  If you want to talk about killing, the cop I'm looking for killed two people.  He fled from jurisdiction and now I'm going to find him and drag him back to face charges.  That's what I'm here to do.  Take it or leave it."  

"We'll take it," Blair stepped in then, putting a hand on Jim's arm and pulling him back.  Ellison glared at him but Blair ignored it – as he usually did – and faced the IA captain again.  "We have a job to do, so we'll do it.  Whatever's going on between you two, work it out on your own time.  Later."  

Much later, Blair thought.  Much, much later.  

Hunter turned to him again, studying the new detective closely, blue eyes a flinty steel that Blair was all too used to.  He wore his badge on his belt, like the other detectives tended to do when they were in the station.  He refused to flinch back from Hunter.  

"Aren't you a fraud?" Hunter asked, idly.  

The atmosphere changed, dangerously, in the blink of an eye, as Ellison forced Hunter back several steps until he was against a wall.  Ellison grabbed the lapels on Hunter’s fancy suit, mega-watt glare now at dangerous levels.  

"You will keep your mouth off of my partner," Ellison told Hunter a moment later.  "Or you can forget getting ANY help from around here.  He's a lot more honorable man than you are, and don't think anyone around here has forgotten what happened the last time you were in town."  

"Jim… Jim, stop it," Blair pulled Ellison back until he released Hunter.  "He doesn't know.  Now, we have a cop to go find.  Let's get to work."  

Blair just hoped he could get them to work without killing each other….  

** **

Kevin Debreno sat back in the corner of the small coffee shop in a less desirable neighborhood of Cascade, Washington, and stared out the window as he sipped a cup of coffee and nursed the donut he bought that morning to stave off hunger.  Down to his last seven dollars, with the police no doubt searching for him, Debreno knew he was going to be in trouble really soon.  Last night, the worst in his life, he'd spent the night in a 25-dollar hotel that had more cockroaches than toilet paper, and now…  

He was no closer to finding the one man who could get him off – the real killer of the day.  Debreno knew he stood less than a snowball's chance in hell of getting off – really getting off, with his job intact, if he didn't find the man responsible for the killings.  He wasn't quite desperate enough to try to use a credit card or bankcard; he had to stay under the radar.  

Debreno looked up at the television when he heard his name mentioned and frowned when he saw his picture broadcast.  Great.  Now everyone would be looking for him.  

Acting naturally as he could, he threw a couple of bucks onto the table to pay for his donut and coffee and went outside, stretching before he drew his long coat more tightly around him, and began to walk down the street.   

Cascade, Washington , had better weather than Washington D.C. , but Debreno frowned when the skies began to open up again and rain down on him.  In severe danger of being caught at any moment, he had to be careful where he went and whom he went with these days – and he knew calling anyone back in D.C. was a huge mistake.  IA had a bad habit of bugging phone calls when they were looking for a cop, and with the supposed evidence against him, Debreno figured they would harass his fellow detectives without any provocation whatever.  

Desperate times called for desperate measures, though; Debreno needed to find his witness, and that meant getting help from somewhere.  

Finally, he stopped at a phone booth.  

**  **  

"It's a complete mess is what it is!" Washington D.C. Chief-of-Police Jack Mannion declared.  "Who gave Hunter permission to go to Cascade?"  

Joe Noland adjusted the collar of his uniform as he regarded the Chief and shrugged.  "I did.  He didn't need it, Chief.  He's the Captain of Internal Affairs and he has the authority to chase a suspect to another state if he has to.  You have to admit the evidence against Debreno is…"  

"It's crap," Mannion said, hotly.  "The witnesses’ statements didn't even agree beyond the fact that they say Kevin did the killing.  One of them thought he was holding the gun in his left hand, for crying out loud!  The point is, though, I can still get Debreno to come back, on his own, without him having to worry about what Hunter is going to do to him!  As long as he thinks Hunter's still got a noose out, he's going to stay on the run and not come in like he should."  

Noland nodded, rubbing his chocolate-colored face, and sighed.  "You may be right but…Debreno shouldn't have run.  He should have stayed.  We could have gone to find…"  

"You're right, but he was convinced he was the only one that could find him and IA was about to arrest him…. I did try to stop him," Mannion sighed.  He rubbed his head where the lump from Debreno beaning him still remained.  "Well, hopefully the Cascade P.D. can keep Hunter under control.   Look, I'm going to head out for the day.  You keep in contact with Cascade and make sure we get regular reports on what's going on."  

"You got it, Chief," Noland agreed.  

Mannion drew on his hat and long jacket before he left the building.  

He was only home for about a minute when the phone rang and Kujo, his Lhasa Apso puppy, began to bark like crazy.  

Mannion quieted his dog and picked up the phone.  "Mannion."  

“Chief?"  the voice on the other end was obvious Kevin Debreno.  

"Kevin, come home, right now," Mannion ordered.  "Look, we can find the killer, you need to come home.  Hunter's out there looking for you."

"No…" Kevin said.  "Not yet, Chief.  I have met some people and I think I'm getting closer.  The problem is, I have no money… I didn't get out with very much and if I use my credit cards or my bankcard, they'll know exactly where I am.  I'm just asking for 48 hours, Chief.   That's it."  

Mannion sighed.   

"Kevin, there's no way IA will agree to that, or Hunter, for that matter.  You need to come home.  Now.  I'll send you a ticket and pick you up at the airport.  But come home."  

"Sorry, Chief, I can't do it.  I'm going now."  

Debreno was gone in an instant and Mannion cursed, softly, under his breath.  

** **

"This guy seemed like a good officer," Blair said after going through Kevin Debreno's file – thoroughly.  He looked up at Hunter.  "What caused him to suddenly go berserk and kill two suspects?  Are you sure it wasn't justified?"  

"We're sure it wasn't justified," Hunter glared at the younger detective and Ellison glared at Hunter.  Blair swallowed and took a sip of his water to wet his parched throat before he went back to his report.  "Both witnesses we had agreed that the suspects didn't even know he was in the area."  

Ellison looked up from the case report he had been reading.  "These reports are inconsistent."  

"What do you mean?"  Hunter peered at the other detective and scowled.   

"You mean you didn't actually read these reports?"  Ellison asked as Blair thought about fleeing to another country for a few more days – until the mountains quit colliding.  Nah, he amended a few minutes later.  What better place to be around than in the middle of two combustible infernos?  It was kind of fun, in a 'leaping into the mouth of a volcano' sort of way.  

"I read the reports," Hunter growled.  "Thoroughly."  

"So what was your explanation that a) the witnesses’ reports are in conflict with each other; and b) that they are in conflict with your own coroner's report?" Ellison asked, his voice deceptively calm.   

"They weren't enough to dismiss the witnesses’ reports."  Hunter turned back to his own report and pulled out his cell phone.   

"They weren't enough…there's a cop's life at stake here, Hunter, in case you forgot that.  These reports wouldn't pass muster in Cascade.  Look at this.  Witness 1 said 'the shots were fired from the third window on the right of the second floor.'  Witness 2 said 'the shots were fired from the second window right of the third floor.'  One saw Debreno standing in the window, his gun still smoking and the other said Debreno was standing sideways.  When the first one was asked how Debreno was standing, he said 'full on'.  The second insisted that he was standing sideways – which isn't a clear cut ID, as we both know.  Debreno himself said he'd chased a suspect up to the fifth floor and had seen the shooting through a window, and the coroner’s report corroborates his account that the shooter had to have shot from the same level as the two victims, as the angles refuted anyone shooting from the second OR third floor of a window."  

Ellison glared, steady-on, at Hunter.  "Who are you trying to kid with this stuff, Hunter?  It's sloppy for you to even consider that Debreno's a suspect based on these two reports.  Did you even look for the other killer?  The man Debreno saw do the shooting?  HIS account is much closer to what happened than two witnesses who probably got paid for their so-called testimony."  

Blair reached out and snagged the report, reading through it swiftly.  He nodded in agreement with his partner's assessment.  "I think we need to do two things here, Jim.  Or three.  1, we do need to find Debreno – who knows what will happen if some other trigger-happy cop shows up and tries to corner him.  It won't be pretty, we both know that.  2, we need to find this other suspect.  Is that why Debreno is here, Captain Hunter?"  

Hunter nodded, reluctantly.  "He claimed that he was coming here to find that guy, despite being told he was not allowed to leave D.C.; that he'd gotten some information from one of his snitches that the man he's looking for headed here.  He has a name – Brock Daniels.  I don't know how he got that information; he refused to reveal that when I questioned him.  He hasn't been at all cooperative."  

"Don't blame him," Blair muttered.  "I'd be uncooperative too, if I was being railroaded."  

Hunter glared even more fiercely at Sandburg.  "He's not being railroaded.  I was going on the facts and if, IF there are inconsistencies in the witnesses’ reports, you know that sometimes there are slight fact differences but that the overriding corroboration – that Debreno did the shooting – was important."  

"I'm still confused on something," Blair said.  "Why did you say he shot them again?"  

Hunter stared at Sandburg for a moment then looked away.  "He was chasing them, they were suspects in a series of armed robberies in the D.C. area.  He trailed them to that alley and, instead of giving them a chance to surrender, he shot them in cold blood."  

"You aren't making any friends here, Hunter.  We've seen overzealous IA cops before, and you're acting just like one of them.  Now, let's go find out the real facts of this case.  I just hope the officers back in D.C. are better at their jobs than you are, or Debreno is sunk.  He might as well put the noose around his own neck," Sandburg continued.  

Blair turned to his partner, surprised to find such a shocked expression on Ellison's face.  The expression slowly changed as Ellison began to smile, and the older man reached over and patted his partner's back.  

"That's my partner," he said, proudly.  "Let's..."  

"Ellison!"  this time it was Detective Rafe who came into the room, interrupting the three detectives.  "We just got a call over the hotline for that cop case you're on.  Someone spotted your suspect at MacIvey's, down on Vine street .  They said he left about a half hour ago."  

"What took them so long to call?" Ellison demanded.   

Rafe shrugged.  "No idea.  Just thought I would pass along the information."  

"Let's go," Ellison ordered as he got up.  "Let's go pick up our runaway."  

** **  

Shoulders slumped over, feeling more lost than ever, Kevin Debreno continued his walk down the sidewalk in the not-so-safe area of Cascade and wished, again, for the rain to stop, or at least let up for a bit.   

Debreno had no idea, still, where he was going to spend the night. The idea of spending the night out of doors, finding some storm drain or cellar or overhang to huddle inside of didn’t appeal to him.  Instead, Debreno wanted to be inside where it was warm, he had a beer and he could watch a ball game on television.  Debreno sighed and continued walking as he considered, again, how to find his suspect.  

If the suspect even existed.  He'd seen the man, had been able to even read the words on the back of the man's jacket.  "Domino Car Repair".   Kevin had gone to talk to the mechanics at Domino Car Repair and had found out that a man named Brock Daniels had not reported for work that morning and that no one could get a hold of him.  Kevin had put out feelers with his snitches and one had given him news that one of the local hoods had given Daniels a new identity and gotten him out of town.  The snitch didn't know Daniels' new identity but did know that the ticket was for Cascade, Washington .  

Debreno tried to give that information to IA but they had insisted he was making it up, that he was trying to save his own butt – which he was, admittedly – and that he was going down, despite everything.   

Debreno left without giving them a chance to formally arrest him.  Instead, he ran immediately for the airport, used up a bunch of cash he had to buy a ticket on the next plane headed west, and was gone.  He routed through Denver , then through San Francisco , before ending up in Cascade’s International Airport .   

Debreno took a deep breath and hunched inside of his jacket even more, trying to ward off the damp chill of the evening.   

The bugger of it all was that he had about a thousand dollars in his savings account back in D.C.  He might look like a big spender but he saved what he could, when he could.  That was the savings of several months, and he could use it, now.  He knew, though, if he used his bankcard or his credit cards, he would get found and locked up even faster.  

It’s appealing, though, he thought with a sigh.  Maybe I should ask the Chief to find this guy.  He could do it.   

"You in the wrong part of town, little man," a voice said from behind him, and Debreno turned – just in time to avoid being clobbered on the head by a long chain being held by a tall white man apparently made of solid muscle.  "This is my territory.  To walk here you got to pay a toll."  

"Forget it," Debreno said, aware that the big man wasn't alone and that he was very outnumbered.  Debreno checked quickly ahead of him and, seeing the way was still open, relaxed a little. "I have exactly five bucks to my name and I might need to eat later on."  

"You ain't gonna NEED to eat later on," the big man said.  "Dead men don't eat…"  

Then he swung, hard, forward, with the chain.  Debreno leapt backward and fell, hard, on the ground behind him, rolling just in time to keep from getting hit by the chain when it swung down again.  

“Dead men don’t eat?  Do you kill everyone who walks down here?  How do the cops let you get away with it?” Debreno asked.  Who wrote this jerk’s lines, anyway?  

“The cops got no say here.”   The gangster swung the chain in a few circles.  “Just me and my boys have a say, and we say you gonna go down, big time, punk!”  

That was even worse than previous lines, Debreno thought.  Is this guy for real?   

The chain swung at him again and Debreno managed to jump back again, avoiding a serious injury by the gang member.  Debreno supposed he was lucky that the thug didn’t have a gun or something worse, otherwise, he’d be in huge trouble.  

"You're just delaying the inevitable, little man," the gangster said as he swung again.  Kevin groaned as the chain hit him on the back, causing him to fall back down to the ground, even harder.  "Give it up while you can."  

"All this for five bucks, huh?  And I thought I was hard up," Debreno said.  "Look, guys, I don't want any trouble here.  I'm just walking, that's all.  Just turn around and go away, all right?"  

"I don't think so," said Chain Boy.  The thug swung the chain again and Kevin rolled again, coming into contact, hard, with a trashcan.  He rubbed his head as he saw stars and knew it was the end….He was about to get killed by these thugs… 

"It's over, boy," Man with Chain said.  "And it's time for you to pay for coming to a place you don't belong."  

The chain swung again just as a voice shouted out,

"FREEZE!  CASCADE PD!"  

Debreno looked over as he saw a brand new Ford Excursion slide to a stop next to him and the man who had spoken, climbed out, along with his partner, a shorter, curly-haired cop. 

"Captain Hunter?" Debreno gasped out as he began to slump.  The members of the gang seemed frozen for only a moment before they began to scatter, and the main thug lashed out again with his chain, aiming for the smaller police officer who had arrived with Hunter.  

"The name's Ellison, Cascade PD," Hunter said.   

What the heck?  Debreno stared up at him, then frowned when he began to see double. 

Obviously he’d been hurt much worse than he thought….  

"Take it easy, Debreno," one of the Hunters said.  The other turned away and took the chain away from Thug With Chain in one swift move that had Debreno gasping for air.  The smaller detective laughed, even as he dodged the kick of another of the gang members.  

"Well, well, well," the other Hunter said…Ellison…whatever….  "George Wooford.  Long time no see, Georgie.  I see you've moved down in the world."  

"Screw you, Ellison," Chain Thug retorted hotly.   

"Don't think so.  You're not my type," Ellison said, calmly as the long-haired detective laughed.  "I heard you came back to town, only I couldn't believe you were that stupid."  

Wooford glared at Ellison as Ellison threw him against the truck and cuffed him.  The long-haired detective laughed again.  

"If you don't mind," Debreno said with gritted teeth.  "Could someone tell me what's going on?"  

Then he slumped over and the world went black around him.  

** **  

The tall, dark-haired man stood on the rooftop of the tall building that overlooked the city by the sea, blue eyes keen and alert as they swept over the landscape below.  While he made out nothing more than individual shapes, he enjoyed the city view from on high.  

Moving to Cascade, not planned in the least, heralded great returns nonetheless.  The man smiled, content, as he surveyed his new domain and considered.  

It was too bad he was going to have to kill the cop after all.  While the man didn’t mind killing in the course of his work, he did mind killing police officers.  The police were tenacious in hunting down people who killed one of their own – but this time, there was no helping it.  The man, simply, could not live to finger him.  

Better to take him out now.  

The tall, dark-haired man chuckled as he reached down to the ledge running around the roof and sipped from a hot cup of coffee.   

His new home would never know what hit it.  

** **  

“What do you make of this whole thing?” Blair stood outside of the hospital room where Kevin Debreno now lay, under arrest and recovering from injuries inflicted by the gang members.  “I mean, think about it, Jim.  Debreno saw the guy who really did the killings.  We’ve got enough proof that he didn’t do these killings, so what gives with Hunter still arresting him?  That’s lame, man, totally lame!”  

Jim shrugged, gazing over at the other officer, who stood near the nurse’s station, talking on one of the pay phones there.  Jim listened in without shame, as Hunter explained about apprehending Debreno, and Jim frowned when Hunter said he was going to be bringing Debreno back to D.C. just as soon as the doctors released him for travel.   

“Can you believe that guy?” Jim said.  “He’s taking Debreno back to D.C. – without giving him a chance!  It’s like everything goes in one ear and out the other.”  

“Tell me about it,” Blair muttered.  “I think we should do something to stop him.  Do you think we could get Debreno put under protective custody?”  

Jim shook his head and turned his attention to the room where the D.C. detective lay.  An I.V. was attached to one arm, bringing him both antibiotics and fluid, and Debreno dozed, his other arm over his eyes.  Jim smiled at the sight of the sleeping detective and turned back to gaze at Hunter.  

“Why don’t you step outside and call Simon,” Jim said to his partner.  “I think we need to do more to stop Hunter.  You’re right, there’s something more going on here and we need to find out what it is.”  

Blair nodded his agreement and left to go outside so he could use his cell phone to call their superior.  Jim stayed where he stood, in front of Debreno’s door, eavesdropping shamelessly on Hunter’s phone call.  Hunter was obviously arguing with someone – and Jim figured out it was someone named “Mannion.”   

Hmm, might be someone I like, Jim thought, trying hard not to look smug.  If we can get this Mannion on our side, then we can solve this case – the way it should be and not by whatever idiotic method Hunter has.  

Hunter finally hung up and walked back over to Jim, looking very unhappy, his eyes flashing anger.   

“Not as easy to railroad an innocent officer as it used to be, eh, Hunter?” Jim chided the I.A. captain.  “What’s your big hurry about getting him back to D.C. anyway?”  

Hunter glared back at Ellison and once again the twin mountains threatened to erupt.  “He’s a suspect.  It’s that simple, Ellison.”  

“Simple,” Ellison glared.  “Last time I checked, the job of Internal Affairs is to determine the guilt or innocence of your fellow officers.  I’ve met enough crooked cops to know you’re needed, but when you start to hound a cop who’s innocent, I have a problem.  You’ve seen the so-called evidence you have, Hunter.  Why are you ignoring the obvious here?”  

Hunter continued to glare and looked away, into the room where the fallen police officer lay.   

“There’s due process, Detective,” Hunter said.  “I compiled the evidence.  It’s up to the D.A. to determine if they’re pressing charges.  Until then, however, I bring him back to D.C.  He’s still considered a fugitive.”  

“You’re a piece of work, you know that, Hunter?” Jim declared.  “You’re so filled with pride you can never admit when you’re wrong about something.  You saunter around with your big title and assume that, because you wear that, everything you say is gold.  Well, guess what?  This isn’t D.C., this is Cascade.  Debreno is officially a witness to a crime and, as such, he’s under the protection of the Cascade P.D.  If you want him, you get to go through OUR due process.  Feel free to get started anytime.”  

Hunter’s glare turned dangerous but, if anything, Ellison got closer to him and faced his look-alike down.   

“Something?” Ellison asked in a low hiss of a voice.  

“You’re going to regret this, Ellison,” Hunter vowed.  “I’ll have your badge.”  

“Go for it,” Ellison said, finally allowing a smirk come to his face.  “Please.  I’d like to see you try, if only for the laugh I’ll get at the end when you fail.”  

Hunter whirled and stalked away and Ellison continued to smile, long after he was gone.   

Blair returned and looked around, seeing only Ellison and not his doppelgänger.  

“Did you finally kill him or something?” Blair asked.  

“Please,” Jim grinned.  “I’m much better than that.  No killing was involved, my dear boy.  He finally figured out when he was beat.”  

“Riiiight,” Blair looked around again, a dubious expression on his face.  “What really happened?”  

“Oh, I told him he couldn’t have Debreno without going through due process and he threatened to have my badge.  I think it was all lacking in originality, if you ask me.”  

Blair laughed.  “And Simon already spoke to Washington and got Debreno cleared.  He wants us to find this suspect of Debreno’s, though.  And he wants us to put Debreno into protective custody – in case this guy is looking for him.”  

“I doubt Debreno’s going to be happy about that.”  

Blair shrugged.  “Are any of us ever happy about being in protective custody?  He’s sending in a couple of the units from our department to camp out outside his door.”  

“Good,” Jim said.  “That’s good.”  

“So, what next?” Blair asked.  

“Next, we go sort out the facts from the fiction,” Jim said.  “We can’t really do more until we can talk to Debreno.  I’ll make sure that the uniforms know to let us know when he’s awake and also make sure they know that Hunter isn’t allowed.”  

“And to ask for ID,” Blair said, waggling his eyebrows obviously.  

“And to ask for ID,” Jim agreed.  “I wouldn’t put it past that stuffed shirt to try to pretend to be me, just to make off with Debreno.”
Blair burst out laughing.  “You should listen to yourself, man!  Stuffed shirt.”  

He giggled as Jim batted him in the back of the head and snorted occasionally while Jim talked to the arriving uniformed officers.  Once that was done, he led the way back outside.  

** **

“He’s awake,” Jim told his partner later that evening, just as they both sat down at the table in their loft apartment to eat dinner.  “I told Matursky that we’d be there as soon as we finish eating.”  

Blair nodded, his mouth full with the spaghetti Jim made for dinner.  The younger man swallowed and took a drink from his teacup before he spoke.  

“Good,” Blair said.  “Maybe he can give us a description of the guy who did the killings.  If we can get a sketch made we should have an easier time of taking the guy down.  Until then we, as you said before, have nothing.”  

Jim nodded his agreement, his mouth now involved in the process of eating.  

** **

“Kevin Debreno?” Sandburg’s low voice lilted slightly through the dim recesses of the hospital room as the two Cascade detectives stepped inside.  Sandburg exchanged a glance with his ‘looks-too-much-like-Hunter’ partner before continuing to Debreno’s bedside.  

“Yeah,” Debreno agreed in a husky voice.  The D.C. detective shifted slightly, limbs dull with painkillers, and he blinked several times to try and bring Sandburg’s face into focus.  The shorter man looked nothing like any police officer Debreno had ever met before – except a few Vice cops.  “’m under arrest?”  

“Nope,” the short cop said.  “The evidence against you was bogus.  Hunter may still try to bring you back to D.C. with him but, to do that, he has to go through a mountain-sized pile of paperwork.”
Debreno managed a smile.  

“Hey, that’s great,” he murmured.  “So…what now?”  

“Well, we wanted to get a description of the suspect you saw in D.C. – and a name, if you have one.”  

“Gave the name to Hunter,” Debreno murmured.  “Didn’t believe me.”  

“Yeah, well, we do,” the Hunter clone at the door said.  “And if we’re going to find your suspect, we need some information.”  

“Not…without me,” Debreno declared as he struggled to sit up in his bed.  

“Hey, wait a minute, man!” Sandburg ordered.  “Your leg is in no shape to go anywhere, man.  You’re going to stay here and recover from your run-in with one of our favorite gangs.”  

“My suspect.  I’m taking him down,” said Debreno, stubbornly.  

“Sorry, sport, you’re side-lined,” Hunter-clone said.  “I’m agreeing with my partner on this one.  Give us the information and I promise we’ll find the guy – if he’s still in town.  One thing we’d like to know is, how in the world did you figure out he’d come here?”  

Debreno shrugged and used the controls for his bed to sit up a little more.  Once in a seated position he could more easily make out the individual features of each man’s face.  The younger of the two Cascade cops looked all of about twenty, with shoulder-length, curly, brownish hair of sorts.  His blue eyes were large and, as he spoke, his hands spoke along with him, moving in wide gestures.  His partner, the man who looked so much like Hunter, seemed to instinctively know when to stay out of Sandburg’s path, as if the two men were so attuned to each other that they missed little about each other.  

Debreno felt a little envious of that.  He’d been teamed with Temple Page for a year now and he didn’t get any sense that they were friends, much less close to each other.  Partnerships like the one obviously shared between Ellison and Sandburg came along only rarely.

The D.C. detective sighed and leaned back against his upraised pillow.  

“All right,” he said.  “But only because I don’t want this creep getting a foothold in your city.”  

Debreno took a deep breath as Ellison sat down on the sole seat in the room and pulled out a pad of paper, and Sandburg, also removing his own small notebook, sat down on the edge of Debreno’s bed.  

“Fire away,” Sandburg requested after flipping in the notebook until he found a clean page.   

“All right,” Debreno sighed.  “As you know, I was looking for a couple of suspects who were for an armed robbery in the D.C. area.  They’d held up at least three convenience stores and then moved up to a bank – which they did successfully.  They were getting more violent too, though.  They killed a security guard at the bank, going straight from armed robbery to murder.  

“My partner and I managed to get the name of one suspect from a witness at one of the convenience stores and we were able to figure out who the second suspect was after speaking to people in the first suspect’s apartment building.  Our problem was, we also figured out two locations for the two men so, I took a squad car with me to one location and Page took another squad car to a second location.”  

Debreno sighed and shifted, and flinched in pain.  He touched his head for a moment and took a sip of water from a glass handed to him by Sandburg.   

“It all went wrong at my location – which is where the two suspects were.  I sent the two officers to search down one hallway and I went up a floor and searched the next hallway.  I was searching a room when I happened to see two people outside.  I looked through the window and saw a man pull a gun – a nine-mil, of course – and shoot the two suspects in the head.  

“I also saw that the man was wearing a jacket from a local car repair shop, and raced outside, looking for the man.  By the time I got downstairs, he was long gone.”  

Debreno looked up at Ellison and Sandburg then.  “Everything went to hell after that.  Two bogus witness showed up, saying they’d seen me shoot the suspects and, since I was separated from the patrol officers, there were no witnesses to say I hadn’t done it.  IA ate it all up, too, and before I knew it they questioned me as a suspect, too.  I managed to get out of it for a bit and went to the garage, tracked down the new perp and got his name – Brock Daniels.  It didn’t take much to track him here – he used his credit card to buy a plane ticket at the airport.  I didn’t even stop back at home, I went and got my own ticket and flew straight here.”  

He paused and eyed Ellison.  “I knew IA wasn’t going to give my statement the time of day; I had to come and take care of it myself.”  

“And that’s why Hunter came after you,” Blair commented idly, as he tapped his pencil on his pad of paper.   

Hunter…Ellison that is, flashed a glare at his partner, and Debreno withheld the urge to smile.   

“That’s why Hunter came, though I still don’t know why a captain would come when he could have sent one of the other spuds.”  

“I have a feeling I know why,” Ellison said.  Sandburg smirked.  

“Why?” Debreno asked when Ellison said nothing else.   

“We have a history, that’s why.  He came more to get in my face than capture you, I suspect.  You’re right, he could have sent one or two of the detectives from your IA unit – instead, he came himself.”  

“Either that or he knew his evidence was faulty and he thought we’d sway a lesser officer.”  Blair framed ‘lesser officer’ in quotes.  “Instead, he ran smack into the rock that is Ellison and only got trouble for his pains.  So, now we have a name, we should be able to get started on finding your killer.  Is there anything else we need to know?”  

Debreno shook his head.  “I suppose not,” he said.  “If I think of something…”  

“Call us,” Blair reached into a pocket and pulled out a business card.  “My cell phone number’s on that.”  

Debreno sighed as he looked around the hospital room.  He supposed he had a snowball’s chance in a fiery furnace of getting out of the hospital in time to help bring the perp in.  Still, at least there were trustworthy – he hoped – people on the case.  

“Thanks, Debreno.”  Sandburg held out his hand and Debreno shook hands with him, then both men turned and left the room.  

** **  

“Okay, so where do we wanna start?”  Blair turned to Jim as they walked out of the hospital and saw Jim’s jaw working overtime, teeth clinched together in a way that read ‘overload’ to Blair.  “Jim, what are your dials set at, man?”  

Jim looked back at Blair and shrugged.  “Not that high.  I just have a headache.  Hospital odors do that, you know.”  

“Since when?” Blair demanded.  “You usually just dial it down and it’s no problem.  Are your senses extra sensitive today or something?”  

“No, they aren’t extra sensitive,” Jim grated.  The Sentinel started to glare at his partner, then sighed and shook his head.  “Just meeting up with Hunter again, I think.  I coulda gone a long time – like forever – without ever seeing him again.  Just because he looks like me doesn’t mean we think alike or act alike.”  

Ha, you coulda fooled me, thought Blair – without actually saying it.  More diplomatically, he said, “You’re right, of course.  You’re individual people.”  

With incredibly accurate imitations of each other, Blair thought again, managing, just barely, to hide the grin that threatened to surface.  

“He just gets on my nerves and I think that is what’s causing this headache.  Anyway, as for your question, I think we should run the name through the system.  I didn’t read anything in the information we got from Washington that they’ve run the name.  Ideally, we’ll see if we can find a record – or perhaps relatives – in the area.”  

“Good,” Blair agreed.  “Cause the sooner we find this guy, the sooner we get Hunter off of Debreno’s back – for good.  You know, if he wasn’t officially under arrest in Washington then he’s not considered a fugitive, is he?  He can’t be taken in for resisting or fleeing arrest, right?”  

“Technically.  Depends on if he was told not to leave town.  I suppose that’s something they’ll have to figure out what to do in D.C.  We’ll worry about finding this Brock Daniels.”  

Blair agreed as he slid into his seat in Jim’s new Excursion.  They pulled away from the hospital and started down the street.  

“Rhonda?” Blair said into his phone.  “We have a name we need you to run.”  

“Give it to me, Blair,” Rhonda commented.  

“Brock Daniels,” Blair said.  “Last employed at Domino Car Repair in Washington D.C.   If you could get Jackson to call D.C., I want him to talk to the owner or manager of the car place and see what he can find out about Daniels.  Then see if we can get some support from the District police and get some more information about this character.  It will help us find him here.”  

“Got it, Blair,” Rhonda said, her voice warm. “Anything for Captain Banks?”  

“Tell him we’ll be back in about twenty minutes and we’ll give him the reports from our interview with Debreno.  We’ll know more, I hope, after those searches come back.”  

“All right,” Rhonda agreed. “No problem.  See you in a few minutes.”  

They rang off and Blair settled back into his seat.  

“Good ideas, there, Chief,” Jim approved.  “Having Jackson call D.C. might get us just the information we need to solve this case.  We can hope, anyway.”  

“I hope so,” Blair agreed.  “We have to start somewhere.  And we have to hope Daniels does something really stupid.  You don’t think he’ll go after Debreno, do you?  It’s obvious he’s the one who paid off the with… wait a minute…”  

“What?” Jim asked.  “The witnesses?  Yeah, we should have someone in D.C. go lean on them, find out who paid them off to lie – maybe they can get a deal.”  

Blair dialed Rhonda’s number again.  “I have something to add on for Jackson ,” he said.  

“Go ahead, Blair,” Rhonda commented.  

“We need him to get the D.C. police to lean on those two witnesses – the ones who fingered Debreno.  It’s obvious they were paid off to give bogus statements.”  

“We were just talking about that,” Rhonda admitted.  “And I asked Jackson to do it already.”  

Blair looked surprised and grinned.  “Are you after our job, Rhonda?”  

“No, thanks,” Rhonda said, airily.  “This place would fall apart without me.”  

“Ah, all right,” Blair laughed.  “Thanks again, Rhonda.”  

He hung up and looked back at Jim.  “We’d better wait until we get back.  She’s several steps ahead of us already, I bet.”  

“She always was a smart lady,” Jim agreed.  

Jim parked his large Excursion in the P.D. parking garage and the partners went upstairs.  When Jim sat down at his desk, he found several notes there already and, taking a look at them, went to work.  

** **  

“What have we got?” Mannion leaned back on the desk behind him as he studied his detective.  Temple Page , a usually levelheaded young man, had shown a bit of a hot temper lately, especially after the death of his fiancée.  Mannion hoped that if he gave Page enough time – and enough to do – that the young detective would get back onto an even keel soon.  Page was still one of the best detectives Mannion had on the force.  

“I’ve spoken with the Cascade P.D., a detective Brent Jackson,” Page said as he held up his notebook.  “He wants to know several things.  1) Anything we can find out about Debreno’s suspect, a man named Brock Daniels;  2) They want us to lean on the two witnesses that framed Debreno for the killings and find out who paid them and anything else we can get from them.  Jackson told me that Debreno has been cleared by the Cascade P.D. but that Hunter doesn’t seem totally happy to let him go.”  

“That hothead!  What is he trying to prove?” Mannion demanded.  

“No idea, Chief,” Page leaned back in his chair.  “But it sounds like he’s not going to get what he wanted, regardless.  Do you want me to get to work on this?”  

“Yeah,” Mannion agreed.  “I’ll make sure Nolan knows what you’re doing.  Grab Nancy or Peltzer to help, if you need it, otherwise, I’ll leave you to it.”  

Page nodded his agreement and stood, going to make a phone call.  

** ** 

An hour later, Page sat in an interview room with one of the so-called witnesses, leaning forward on the table between them as he studied the young man.  Short, wiry, with wire-framed glasses and dirty blonde hair, the young man fidgeted with his watch, turning it around and around on his wrist to avoid looking at the detective.  

“Come on, David,” Page said to the young man.  “I know and you know that your whole statement was a lie and that you were paid for it.  All I need to know is the name of the person who paid you to tell those lies and we’ll make sure the DA goes light on you.   

“We have Thomas in the other room, you know,” Page continued.  “And the deal is open to only one of you.  Whichever one talks first gets the deal, the other gets the full package – filing a false police report.  That’s not a tap on the wrist, David.”  

David Pims sighed and looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked away from Temple and peered toward the empty wall to his left. Pims finally looked up.  

“I won’t get jail time?” he asked.  “I don’t wanna go to jail.  I was just making a little extra money, you know.  How did I know the guy was innocent?”  

Stupid, idiot… Temple fought the urge to throw the punk back against a wall.  He schooled his features to remain neutral.  

“We’d talk to the DA and let them know how much you cooperated,” Page said.  “But time’s ticking here, Pims.  You know if you delay too long, Thomas is going to take the deal and you’ll be left in the dark.  I want a name – and I want to know how you know him.”  

Pims frowned, continuing to look at the blank wall.  Finally, he turned back to Page.  

“His name’s Brock – Brock Daniels.  We met when we both worked at a garage about six or seven years ago.  He was the head mechanic and we were working together.  He got fired, though, because it seems he was missing too much work and the owner got all pissed about it.  He left and went to Domino but we kept in touch, you know.”  

Pims looked away a moment, then back at Page.  “I always thought there was something about him, you know?  When I saw him away from the garage, he was dressed in these real fine clothes, like expensive ones, you know?  Ones I couldn’t afford on my salary, no way.  He wouldn’t ever tell me what he was into, even though I asked, just said if I wanted to make extra money to let him know.  

“Then he called me the day of the shootings and told me he had a special job for me and, well, I needed the money.  He gave me this story and told me I was to tell it to the police. He said no one would learn differently cause there’d be two of us telling the same story, we’d have to be believed.  So, I took the job, ya know.  It seemed easy and fool-proof.  We had the same story.”

“One of you confused details,” Page said.  “That’s how we figured it out.  It’s all in the fine details, my man.”  

Pims shrugged, anxiously.  “I don’t know much else.  He said he was getting out of town for a little while but he did pay me – a grand!  I don’t see that much money in two weeks and I made it all in a few minutes.  It came in handy let me tell you.  He said he was going to Cascade for a while, he wanted to check out some new hunting grounds – that’s what he called it, hunting grounds.  He said he had some old buddies there and that they were going to rock the place.”  

Page looked dubious at this last detail.  “He told you that much?  Why?”  

Pims shrugged, looking anxious.  “He didn’t have anything to lose, man.  I don’t know who he went to see out in Cascade.  He didn’t give me no names or anything, you know!”  

Page sighed and nodded.  “All right,” he said.  

Then he read Pims his rights.  

“Wait,” Pims protested.  “I told!”  

“I know,” Page agreed.  “But you’re still under arrest.  It’s up to the D.A.  Remember?”  

Pims frowned and shrugged.  “You remember our deal, man!” he demanded.  

Oh yeah, Temple Page thought as he left the room.  I’ll remember.  

** **

“So,” Blair continued as he read out loud from his notebook.  “It seems that this Brock Daniels is a big fish in Washington D.C. who is planning on being a big fish in Cascade.  His real name is Edwards.  Alexander Edwards.”  

“Edwards?”  Jim’s head shot up from where he had been studying a different report.  “As in…”  

Blair grinned.  “Sometimes life just throws you a bone after all the crap has hit the fan.  Yep, the same.  Alexander Edwards – and Alexandra Edwards – are twins.”  

Jim blinked, feeling like he’d stepped into a sludge pile.  He closed his eyes for a moment, grounding his senses – and himself – in the scent and heartbeat of his guide and, after one more calming breath, opened his eyes.  

“How did you find that out?” Jim asked, curiously.  

“Fingerprints,” Blair said.  “D.C. got fingerprints off of the gear at the garage where Edwards worked and managed to get the information from the F.B.I. database.  It seems Edwards was picked up about three years ago for suspected kidnapping and murder, but they were never able to round up enough evidence to put him away.  They did, however, still have his prints from when he was arrested.”  

“Well, isn’t that something,” Jim grinned.  “And isn’t it going to break our heart to have to go and bug the Lady Dragon and see if her wayward brother is hiding out with her.”  

Blair frowned as he studied his partner.  “I don’t know, Jim.  Chancellor Edwards might not be the…nicest…person in the world, but she’d never do anything to damage her own credibility – or Rainier ’s, for that matter.  Somehow, I don’t think the fact that Alexander is her twin is going to force her to do something that will make her seem less than stellar.  She’d probably turn him in herself if he showed up at her door.”  

“It doesn’t mean we can’t question her, get some idea from her about where he might be hiding, right?”  

Blair shrugged but nodded his agreement.  “You may be right about that, partner.  I say let’s do it.”  

Jim paused.  “You sure, Chief?  I know it’s bound to bring back bad memories…”  

“Memories, Jim,” Blair commented.  “That’s all that they are.  Don’t worry about it.  Let’s go find this guy!”  

“What guy?” Jim frowned as he heard that voice and looked up at the doorway to Major Crimes.  “Debreno?”  

“Would you get off Debreno’s case, already, Hunter?” Blair demanded.  “He’s innocent and you know it.”  

Hunter frowned at the younger detective.  “Sure he is.  That’s why he ran!”  

“Here,” Jim headed off the ensuing argument between his partner and his look-a-like by handing over a sheet of paper to Hunter.  Hunter read it quickly, finding it was a fax from Washington D.C. , stating that they had gotten confessions from the so-called witnesses, claiming that their testimony was false and that they were paid to give it.  

Hunter glared at the offending page as he handed it back to Ellison.  

“Fine,” Hunter glared at the two men.  “But he still evaded arrest and eluded prosecution.  I’m going to bring him in that for that, if nothing else.”  

“That would be true,” Blair said, holding back a grin.  “Except he was never under arrest and he was never told to stay in the D.C. area.  He can’t be brought in for anything.  Your Chief might have a few words with him about pursuing a case without going through the proper channels, but I think that’s between your Chief Mannion and Debreno, don’t you think?”  

“On another note,” Ellison said, mildly.  “We have made headway in finding the man that really did do the killings.”  

Hunter reluctantly turned his attention to Ellison.  Ellison didn’t like the other man and did nothing to hide his distaste – but it didn’t stop him from handing out a bone to the guy.  

“Alexander Edwards,” Ellison handed a picture of the man to the IA Captain.  “He’s from this area, though he left over a decade ago and moved to D.C.  We were about to go and question his sister to see if she knows anything about his location.  If you plan on being civil, we might agree to let you go along with us.  If you don’t, then you can just stay here and cool your heels – or go back to Washington .”  

Hunter frowned then sighed.  “I’d rather go with you.  If I can bring this Edwards character back to D.C., well, that will help.”  

“I think you and Debreno should bring him back together,” Blair commented.  “After all, Debreno is the one who started this; he should get to finish it.”  

Hunter nodded.  

“Then let’s go,” Jim said.  

** **

Blair stood in front of the large men flanking him and reached out to ring the doorbell, feeling like the prince in the midst of the behemoths.  The chime rang within the large, stylish-looking, Tudor-styled home and they all waited, patiently.  

Phone calls earlier went unanswered and phone calls to the University heralded the news that Doctor Edwards was working from home today.  The fact that, after standing for a few minutes, there was no answer to their bell worried all three men.  

“You think she’s taken a vacation day instead?  Maybe she’s at the spa,” Hunter asked.  

Blair shook his head.  “If she was at the spa, that’s what would be in her schedule at work.  She’s not my favorite person in the world but she’s honest, usually and, well, she hates any hint of dishonesty.”  

Jim stared at him for a moment before he shrugged and nodded.  

“Right,” Jim said.  “So…”  

He considered a moment and rang Doctor Edwards’ home number.  He could hear the phone ringing inside and he also heard the voice mail – inside – when it picked up.  Jim rang off and contemplated, looking back at Hunter for a moment.  He would have to come up with a story for later but, for now, he reached out with his hearing, one hand on Blair’s shoulder.  

… tick…tick…tick…  

...electricity…  

…a hissing sound…  

Jim opened his eyes and took a sniff…  

“Gas!” he exclaimed.  “We have to get in there.  Someone’s turned the gas on.”  

Hunter, at least for the moment, didn’t seem to think about how Jim could know that.  Both men rammed their shoulders into the door until it broke open, inward.  They momentarily jammed into the doorway, until Jim managed to turn sideways and rush into the room.  

The men divided up as they went into the house, but Jim followed his nose until he found the source of the leak – a gas stove left on.  After he turned the gas off, he warned Blair and Hunter to hurry as he put his shirt over his nose and peered around through the gas-filled room.  

A woman lay on the carpet on the other side of the room, lying slightly on her side, a small pool of blood under her head.  Jim yelled for Blair and Hunter as he ran and knelt by Doctor Edwards.  

“She’s alive,” he told Blair as his partner came into the room.  “Let’s get her out of here and call an ambulance.”  

Jim hefted Doctor Edwards up into his arms and carried her toward the doorway and out onto the lawn, his eyes streaming with tears.  He settled Edwards onto the lawn and checked her breathing and her heart rate.  

Weak, he thought as he checked her eyes.  “Chief, how long on the ambulance?” he called to the younger man.  

“Five minutes,” Blair appeared at Jim’s side.  “Do you think she’ll be okay for that long?”  

“She’ll have to be,” Jim commented.  “Let’s get her clothes loosened.”  

They loosened the top buttons of her blouse and her skirt and Blair sat under her legs to keep them raised above Edwards’ head.   Gently, Blair pulled the bottom of her skirt down so that it covered her knees, keeping her modest, and he checked her pulse again at the wrist, noting a weak, but steady, beat.  Her labored breathing eased a bit now that they were out in fresh air and Blair watched her chest lower and raise with the light respirations.  

"You all right, Chief?" Jim broke the silence and Blair looked up, surprised.  

"Sure, why?"  Blair asked.  

Jim shrugged, looking slightly sheepish.  "You looked…I don't know what the word is that I want.  Thoughtful.  I wasn't sure if you were upset because of Edwards, though.  Thought I would ask, just in case."  

Blair's face split into a wide smile and he shook his head.  "No, actually, I was just watching her breathing.  I hadn't really even thought about it."  

Blair paused again and his eyes went up to his Sentinel's eyes.  The older detective plucked at the grass underneath them, pulling loose a single blade and studying it industriously.   

"I thought it might be bringing up some…some bad memories for you," Jim admitted in a soft voice, and Blair knew how much that admission cost his partner.  "What she did…"  

Blair waved his hand at the Sentinel and shook his head.  "Jim," he said.  "I don't regret anything that I did.  I've made my peace with it.  I was exonerated.  I'm where I want to be."  

Jim smiled at him.  "I know, I mean, you've drummed that into my head often enough. It doesn't change what happened, though and…she's responsible for a lot of what happened.  She could have listened…could have admitted that you hadn't actually submitted the paper as your thesis."  

"In her eyes, man," Blair commented, softly.  "I spent the better part of five years – especially the last four years – using university money to produce fraudulent research. I didn't have to have turned in the paper.  Just the idea that I used scholarship money, fellowship money and even grant money – which was gotten while working with Doctor Stoddard – for my own ends is enough to remove me from the school.  I have a feeling if I had done something other than go to the press she would have accepted things…"  

Blair sighed.  "Look, Jim.  What's happened has happened.  I'm not going to continue to…to…worry about it.  I like where I am now and, if I do say so, I'm damned good at it."  

"Well, you're getting there," Jim admitted, slowly, laughter finally entering his blue eyes.  "Maybe in ten or so years, you'll be 'damned good at it' but right now you're still a cocky rookie."  

"Cocky rookie, is it?" Blair inquired, raising his hands into fists.  "Them's fightin' woids!"  

He playfully socked Jim on the arm and Jim laughed and rubbed his arm.  

"Sorry…" the voice was too quiet for Blair to hear but Jim leaned over Doctor Edwards, suddenly, and listened.  

"Doctor Edwards, don't try to talk," Jim ordered her.  "You've breathed in a lot of gas; your lungs and air passage are distressed."  

Doctor Edwards gasped, obviously distressed, and Jim gently massaged her throat.   

"The ambulance is coming, it's just down the street," Jim said.  "Sssh."  

It seemed strange to be comforting a woman he had despised for the last year but…if Blair couldn't hold a grudge, then Jim wouldn't either.   

Alexandra Edwards' eyes opened and she looked over at Blair.  She tried to say something again, but couldn't speak and breathe at the same time.  The beleaguered woman finally sagged back, closing her eyes again, either unconscious or too exhausted to try to do anything but lie there.  Blair exchanged a worried glance with Jim, but Jim nodded reassurance.   

"She's okay.  She needs that ambulance though!"  

Jim was about to stand again, to meet the ambulance, when he cocked his head to one side then, with an alarmed expression on his face, he dove down and covered up Doctor Edwards with his body, pulling Blair forward as he did it.  

And at that moment the whole earth seemed to heave underneath the former anthropologist and a loud explosion ripped through the air.  Blair hid his face as debris from the house began to fan out around and over them, some of it landing right on top of them.  He felt several sharp shards slide down his own back and another piece hit the back of his head hard enough for bells to ring in his head.  He stayed still until things went quiet again and he heard, through what seemed like a long tunnel, someone yelling his name.  

"Sandburg.  SANDBURG!"  

"I'm okay, Jim," Blair said as he opened his eyes and found it wasn't Jim speaking to him, but Vincent Hunter.  Blair blinked stupidly, lifting up slightly until he was in a sitting position and he could more clearly see his partner.  Jim still lay across Doctor Edwards, prone and unconscious, blood leaking from a nasty looking wound on his head.  Blair's eyes went wide when he saw it and he looked up at Hunter.  

"Help me move him," Blair ordered.  "We need to get him rolled over and off of Doctor Edwards."  

Hunter nodded, a grim expression on his face so like ones Jim gave him that the younger detective did a double-take again.  He knew it was possible to have a look-alike out there in the world – but seeing Hunter, knowing he was a cop, knowing he looked exactly like Jim…it was enough to make Blair wonder if they'd been separated at birth.   

It was possible, wasn't it?  

"Together, then," Hunter said.  He held Jim's head, immobilizing it while Blair, awkwardly, rolled Jim away from him until he slid off of Doctor Edwards and onto his back on the ground beside the doctor.  Blair carefully slid his legs out from under the chancellor and knelt beside his partner.  

"Jim?" Blair called his partner's name.  "Jim, can you hear me?"

He looked up with concern at Captain Hunter, then back at his partner and shook Jim’s arm again, gently.  

“Jim?” he called out.  “Jim!”  

Jim said nothing, though and Blair anxiously put his fingers to Jim’s pulse.  The pulse throbbed steadily under Blair’s fingers and the younger man breathed a sigh of relief, thankful.  He sat back and looked, listening to the sounds of the siren get closer and closer until it stopped in front of the house.  

“I called it in,” Hunter told Blair.  “Your Captain wants you to call.”  

Blair looked up, guiltily.  He should have called in first thing, but he’d been too worried about Jim at the time to do it.  Blair sighed and pulled out his cell phone, using the memory on the phone to make the call.  

"Sandburg, where are you?"  Simon’s voice rang immediately over the phone.  

“I’m still at Doctor Edwards’, sir,” Blair said.  “Jim is unconscious.  The house…it just blew up behind us.  Jim got hit with fragments from the house.  He hasn’t woken up yet.”  

"Are you all right?" Simon demanded.  

“I’m fine.  A little stunned, maybe, but I’m fine.  I want to go find the jerk who did this, sir.  He obviously meant to kill Doctor Edwards and he didn’t care who else died in the process.  I think we have to find this guy – now.”  

"All right," agreed Simon.  "But how do you plan to do that?  It’s not like he’s going to turn himself in."  

“I don’t know, sir,” Blair said.  “But I’ll think of something.  Look, the ambulance is here.  I need to go.”  

Blair rang off and watched as the paramedics ran forward to check on the two patients.  

** **  

There was darkness.  

And blessed, absolute, silence.   

Jim sighed with contentment as he sat down in the cool, dark, silent, place and enjoyed the lack of sensory input, enjoyed not having to fight himself for control of what came into his mind and enjoyed, for a few moments nothing more than himself.  There was contentment in his soul, at least for the moment.  

It was all wrong, however.  He knew that this…wherever this was…was not right.  That it wasn’t natural and that it didn’t really exist.  He knew that, even though he enjoyed it.   

Natural for him were senses, were sounds and scents and sights and tastes that no other man that he knew of so far could hear or smell or see or taste, feeling things no one else could feel.   

*Sentinel, why are you here?*  

The voice, so unexpected, caused Jim to jump.  Jim opened his eyes, watching as the blue junglescape formed around him.  The Sentinel turned, slowly, keen eyes intent on the individual leaves of the tall trees, the blue-green blades of the grass.  As he moved, the grass, for all it was a spirit plane, crunched under his feet.  

Why are we anywhere?  Jim thought without saying it out loud.  It was what he wanted to ask his spirit guides every time they asked him such a lame question as ‘Sentinel, why are you here?’  He never knew, usually, why he would go into the spirit plane from one time to the next.   

Then he was hit with an idea…one that made more sense than anything else did.  

“I don’t know,” Jim admitted.  “I think I’m dying.”  

He turned again and came into contact, first, with Incacha, the Chopec Shaman, who morphed into Jim’s younger self.  

“Your spirit lies in limbo, Sentinel,” his younger self said.  “A decision lies ahead of you, a wrong must be righted.  The time is at hand.”  

Jim sighed.  Why couldn’t he be straight with himself?  

“What are my choices?” Jim asked, sighing.  Would he be given the answer, or would he have to figure out that too?  How long would he have to make the choice?”  

“You must choose.  To right the wrong and quit denying who and what you are – or to stay safe, to stay here.  To give up the fight and cause the loss of those you love, your guide, your family, your friends, who might fight better with you near.”  

His younger self narrowed his eyes, looking blue and green and brown, colors contrasting with each other and, yet, combining as well.  The blue forest wavered for a moment, and then coalesced, becoming a single, blue-green field, no longer the forest of past visions.  

“Here it is,” said his younger self.  “What you can come to.  Peace.  Nothing to disturb your senses, to disturb you.  A place of peace, Sentinel.  This is your choice.  

“Or…”  

And it all changed again and Jim slammed his hands over his ears.  The cacophony of sound, the chaos of sight and smell all hitting him at once.  He shivered in agony, falling down and curling up in a ball to escape.  It faded, finally, giving him enough peace to hear his spirit guide.  

“You accept your senses.  You accept what comes with it, the bad…”  

And then it was normal…like it was when he was with Blair.  

“And the good.  And you right what was wronged.  You accept your fear and you release it.”  

Jim shivered as he sat up and looked into his younger self’s eyes.  

“You must choose.”  

Jim stood, motionless, for several moments…  

…and chose….

** **

“NO! Jim!”  

Jim Ellison convulsed on the emergency room table, back arching severely before he collapsed limply onto it, completely limp.  Blair stood, shocked, tears streaming down his cheeks as he peered at his best friend.  The doctor pushed Blair back and placed a hand against Jim’s carotid artery.  

“He’s alive, Blair,” Doctor Murphy said.  “He’s all right.  I don’t know what happened but it’s stronger.”  

Blair stared at Doctor Murphy in dumbfounded amazement.  

“He’ll be coming around any minute.  I’m going to send in the nurse to get him comfortable and we’ll let you in to see him for a few minutes.”  

“Good,” Blair sighed with relief and gently touched his Sentinel’s arm.  He whispered that he would be right back, that he wasn’t going far, before he went out into the corridor.  

“How is he?” Blair looked up – and up – at Captain Hunter.  The man followed them to the hospital and waited over two hours in the emergency room as they waited for word on Jim.   

“Better,” Blair smiled, the corners of his mouth turning upward slightly.  “He scared me for a few minutes but Doctor Murphy says he’ll be fine.  I…I know he’ll appreciate that you came to find out, Hunter.”  

Hunter shrugged.  

“It’s going to be all right then?” he asked.   

Blair nodded, blue eyes alight with happiness.  “He’s going to be all right.  Thank God.”  

Blair settled into a seat to wait and, several minutes later the nurse came out to tell him that Jim was awake and that Blair could go see him for a few minutes.  Blair was up and moving before she got the words out, and into Jim’s room, sitting beside his bed.  The nurse watched them, a bemused expression on her face, and turned away.  

“Jim!” Blair said as he took his friend’s hand into his own.  

“Chief…” Jim’s voice was weak but the older man smiled and loosened his hand to bat at Blair’s hair.  “You look…like hell.”  

Blair shrugged.  “I’m fine.  Doctor Edwards is fine, though she’ll be in the hospital for a few more days.  You’re the one who had us worried.  They thought you were going to die for a while…so don’t ever scare me like that, ever again!”  

Jim grinned at his friend.  “I’ll try not to.”  

Jim paused, thoughtful and Blair studied him curiously.  “What is it, Jim?” Blair asked.  

“I had to make a choice,” Jim said.  

Blair stared at Jim, confusion marring the lines on the younger man’s face. “What do you mean?”  

“I was in the spirit plane,” Jim said, lowering his voice so no one else could hear.  “And…they told me I had to make a choice.”  

And Jim, very carefully, told Blair everything his spirit guide told him.  

Totally alarmed, Blair sprang up from his seat.  “Are they crazy?  You can’t tell everyone who – what you are!  You saw what happened last time.  We can’t let that happen!  Jim…”  

“Chief…” Jim raised a hand and placed it on one of Blair’s waving arms.  With a gentle tug he pulled Blair forward.  “Sit back down and listen to me, Chief.”  

Blair sighed – but listened and sat down.  

“It’s time to tell them,” Jim said, softly.  “We don’t have to decide how we’re going to do it right now – but we are going to do it.  It was made very clear to me that my keeping my senses secret is going to eventually endanger everyone…it might endanger you…the guys at the station, even my family.  I spend so much time hiding them that… ’m hampering them, I think.”  

Jim sighed and studied his friend’s confused face.  “I have to right a wrong, too, Blair.  That wrong is what happened to you.  I know we’ve made lemonade from the lemons but…they made it clear it’s not enough.  I think…I think we have more we’re going to have to do in the future, and that you figure very highly in that.  I want you to be safe.”  

Blair’s mouth opened and worked – wordlessly.  He stammered a few times, trying to say something, anything, but nothing came to him.   

“Blair, breathe,” Jim ordered.  “Now.”  

Blair inhaled, sharply and exhaled, then relaxed and leaned back in his seat.  “Okay,” he said.  “Fine.  Great.  Why don’t they ever consult me before they plan stuff like this?  Jim, I’m HAPPY, don’t you understand that?  I’ve got what I’ve always wanted.  I like being a detective.  I don’t…I don’t need some kind of retribution for what happened; do you understand?  You’re my partner, you’re my best friend….I don’t need more, Jim…”  

Jim smiled and nodded, looking…at peace.  For the first time ever, he was at peace and happy.  Blair watched him and relaxed, slightly.  

“I’m sorry,” Blair said, softly.  

“Why?” Jim asked.  “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Chief.  You’ve done it all right, you know.”  

“Not all of it,” Blair said.   

“Most of it, though,” Jim laughed.  “Chief, you are going to beat your head against things that…just were.  They happened.  And they need to be righted, got it?  I agreed.  I could have made a different choice and I didn’t.  I’m here, with you, because I want to be – and that means I want to come out of hiding.  Period.  Got it?”  

Blair returned the laugh, nervously.  “Got it.”  

“Sometimes, Chief, I thi…”  

“Detective Sandburg!” Blair looked up when he heard his name coming from the doorway.  “There’s an incident in Detective Debreno’s room!”  

“Go on, Chief,” Jim ordered.  

Blair took off running, racing down the hallway, up four flights of stairs and down another hallway until he burst into Debreno’s room.  Kevin Debreno was out of bed, his bad leg bent and solidly pressed into the back of another man.  Debreno held the man tightly and smiled innocently up at the Cascade detective.  

“This punk,” Debreno said.  “Just tried to kill me.”  

“Get off me, you bastard!” the ‘punk’ demanded as he struggled to get loose of Debreno.  

“Just a minute,” Debreno said.  “Have any cuffs on you, Sandburg?”  

Blair grinned and handed over the set of handcuffs from his back pocket.  Debreno, grinning himself, slapped them onto the man’s wrists, then, with Blair’s help, hefted the man to his feet.  

“Stay there,” Blair ordered as he pushed the man into a corner and made him kneel.  He was holding onto his gun, carefully training it on the man.  

“Alexander Edwards, you’re under arrest for the murders of…” Blair began his spiel, ending with reading the man his rights.  A few moments later two more police officers burst into the room, followed by the very tall Captain Banks.  

“Good job, Sandburg!” Banks declared.

”Wasn’t me, sir, I got here after it was all done,” Blair grinned.  “Actually, Kevin here did all the dirty work.  I just got to bat cleanup.”  

Kevin grinned at him and the two men turned back to Banks, innocent expressions on their faces.  

“What happened?” Banks sighed.  

“Well,” Debreno declared.  “It’s like this.  I was sleeping – or trying to sleep, to be precise.  I must’ve dozed off slightly but I opened my eyes and found THIS guy trying to shoot something into my IV.  I recognized him right away so I told him back off.  He ignored me, so…I tackled him.  Landed right on top of him too.”  

“And he was still on top of him when I got here,” Blair agreed, cheekily.  “Looks like we bagged us a bad guy, Simon!”  

Simon, looking like he wished he had a cigar in hand, waved a hand and left the room, following the two patrolmen who were escorting Alexander Edwards from the room.  

“You do good work, Debreno,” Blair said, approvingly.  

“You’re not half-bad yourself, Sandburg,” Debreno said.  “So, I take it this takes care of everything?  Hunter’s off my back?”  

“Yeah, I think so,” Sandburg agreed.  “There might be a few more things to clean up, but for now, I think we’ve got it all done.  We’d better get you back to bed, however.”  

“I couldn’t agree more,” said a voice at the door.  Debreno’s doctor, a short, balding man with glasses, came into the room.  “Back to bed, Mr. Debreno and let’s check that leg again.”  

Debreno flashed Blair a pleading look but Blair merely laughed and waved at him.  “Good luck, Kevin.  I’ll be back up here later; I need to go badger my partner for a bit.”  

With the sounds of Kevin Debreno begging to be freed, Blair left and went back downstairs to find his partner.  

** **

Vincent Hunter watched the partners as they stood together near the rental car, and stepped forward to shake hands with both men.  

“Well,” Hunter said.  “As usual, it’s been an experience, Ellison.  Can’t say it was enjoyable, but it was an experience.”  

“Ditto,” Jim said as he rubbed the back of his head.  Still sore from the wounds taken at the explosion he was, nevertheless, back on his feet and getting ready to take on the next part of his life – an acknowledged Sentinel who was, as it were, coming out of the closet.   

“You know,” Blair said, thoughtfully, watching the pair of them.  “There’s this tribe in Guyana where the warriors go through a ceremony – a ceremony of trust.  It seems pretty simple, you know.  You let them tie you up hand and foot so you can’t move and can’t do anything yourself and, basically, all you have to do is let them feed you, give you something to drink, to protect you from enemies, to do everything for you.”  

Hunter stared at him and then at Jim, blinking.  “What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.  

Blair continued placidly, not at all put out by the bark in Hunter’s tone.  “The warriors learn during this ceremony to trust each other – totally and without fail.  You learn to rely on the other members of your tribe or you can’t be trusted yourself to come through when it really matters.  It builds the deepest, absolute trust between them, along with reliance and confidence.   

“That’s something you’ve missed out on, Hunter.  You have not learned that reliance, confidence and trust that you should have for your fellow police officers.  And, until you learn that, you’ll continue to make the same mistakes and assume the worst about the people you should trust.  I know you’re IA – but Hunter, being IA doesn’t mean being inhuman.  You are the one person, perhaps, with the exception of your Chief, that every single police officer, detective, patrolman – everyone – should be able to trust – and all you’ve done is destroy that trust.”  

Jim nodded in agreement.  “He’s right.  I had the same problem – lack of trust, to the point I almost lost the one person I should trust more than any other.  You have to let it go, Vincent.  It’s time to face facts – to realize that you have good people in the P.D. – good people who need you.  Think about it.”  

Hunter waited, then spoke.  “Done preaching now?”  

“Depends,” Blair said, cheekily.  “Did we get through to you?”  

Hunter sighed – then nodded.  “Message received.”  

“Good,” Blair grinned.  “That’s all.  You can go.”  

Sitting in the back of the rental car, injured leg stretched out on the seat, Debreno laughed.  

“Never thought it could happen!” he declared.   

“What?” Blair asked him.   

“Someone got through to the Granite.  I’m impressed.”  

Hunter looked disgruntled with this but he shrugged and got into the driver’s seat, ignoring the younger man’s comment.  

“You behave, Debreno,” Blair warned.  “You sound like you’re way too much trouble.  Take care, man.”  

The two Washington detectives left, leaving the two Cascade detectives standing on the curb in front of the police department.  

“What say we go and find a chocolate shake, Chief?” Jim asked his guide.  

Blair made a face at his partner.  “Are you kidding, man?  Do you know how many calories are in a shake?”  

“Yeah,” Jim agreed.  “Sounds great, doesn’t it?”  

Blair thought about it for a moment, a smile growing slowly across his face.  

“Sounds great.  Let’s go.”  

The two partners looped arms around each other’s necks.  The future could take care of itself tomorrow.

THE END

Finished February,  2005

Disclaimer:  The Sentinel is the property of Pet Fly Production and UPN.  We've only borrowed the characters for a few frolics in the sun.  
We promise to return them where we found them when we're done.