Cascade, Washington
Late Evening, January 21
Blair had managed to get to the loft before Jim had, and was setting up his laptop computer when the other man made it into the apartment. As he waited for his Internet connection to go through, he noticed that the Sentinel seemed to be on edge. Jim was shifting through the loft at a steady pace; never slowing down long enough to be still, not even looking like he was seeking out the 'right' place to sit down, just pacing.
"Jim? What's bugging you?"
He stopped in the middle of the living room. "What makes you think that something is 'bugging' me, Chief?"
Blair sat down at the dining table and leaned back in the chair. "Oh, I don't know. Your pacing like you're trying to show me what I'm like when I'm worked up?" He smiled as he said it, noting that the other man had started his pacing again.
Stopping in his tracks, Jim realized that his friend was right. He was pacing. "Damn." He had come to a stop near the yellow armchair, and deciding to sit, sank into the cushions. "I didn't realize."
The laptop chimed at Blair, drawing his attention. Blair turned away from his friend and called up his e-mail account. "That's okay. I did. Now, what's eating you?" He pulled up the first e-mail, then trashed the advertisement.
"My conversation with McConnel. There was something, I don't know, weird about it." Jim paused and leaned back, hands rubbing his tired eyes as he tried to think back to the conversation, looking for what had tripped his instincts. "Okay, not the talk itself, or the subject matter. There was something weird about McConnel."
Another letter called up and trashed. "'Weird' in what way?"
"If I knew that, it wouldn't be bothering me." Jim, frustrated again, pushed up out of the chair and headed over to the kitchen to grab a water bottle from the refrigerator.
Blair looked up and followed the movements. "Sorry. Maybe it was something you sensed? Were you trying to use your senses during the call?" It dawned on him. "Oh, man. You were! You anchored on me while you were talking to him. What did you sense, what were you looking for?"
Leaning up against the kitchen counter, he sighed. "If I knew thatÖ"
"ÖIt wouldn't be botheringÖ Yeah, sorry about that. Let me finish this up and we'll see what we can do about accessing your memories of the call." Blair tapped his own head as he turned back to his mail check, "After all, it's up there, in your head, you just have to access it."
Jim watched as the younger man pulled up another letter, deleted it and went on the next one. He wasn't even aware of how hard he was watching what his roommate was doing until said roommate was touching him on the arm, softly calling his name. He drew in a ragged breath and shook his head. "Thanks, Chief."
"Yeah. You must be tired if you can zone-out that easy." Blair led his friend over to the living room and the couch that waited there. "Come on, let's do this while you're susceptible to zoning. It usually works better that way."
Placing his bottled water on the coffee table, Jim sat down on the couch, getting into a comfortable, relaxed position, getting ready for this latest trip into what they jokingly referred to as 'The Sandburg Zone.'"
"Okay, do your breathing exercises." Blair's voice had changed, taking on a softer, gentler tone as he spoke. "Okay, good. Now, go back to the Bullpen in your mind. You're on the phone, talking with McConnel, you're listening for something." He paused to let Jim's mind catch up with the images. "Now, what do you hear?"
Jim had closed his eyes, letting his Guide's voice wash over him, taking him back in time. After a while, he spoke up, almost whispering. "McConnel was in a fair sized room, not a lot of furniture. Someone was just outside, maybe, watching. I can hear both heartbeats. McConnel's is stronger, the other's not as strong, but it is there."
Blair was taking it all in, surprised when the Sentinel stopped talking. "Jim? What is it?"
He opened his eyes and blue met blue as he looked into the eyes of his friend. "I heard McConnel's heart slow down. It almost stopped, Chief." Astonishment colored Jim's voice, as if he was amazed by what he had heard.
Blair took in a deep breath. "Almost stopped? Like yours does when you get too deep into a zone-out?"
"Maybe. What were we discussing right then?" Jim leaned forward, head in hands, elbows braced on his knees. "That book!"
"Which one, Jim?"
Jim had jumped up and walked over to the table where he had dropped some files earlier, and after rifling through them, came back with the list of books taken from Rainier. "This one." He pointed to the title as he handed the paper off to Blair.
Pulling his glasses back down to his nose from where he'd pushed them up earlier onto his head, he looked at the title that was being pointed out. "Guardians and Protectors? Okay, Jim, you've lost me. Where does that leave us?"
Jim sighed as he plopped back down onto the couch. "I don't know. I just know that is what we were talking about when McConnel's heart slowed. But it came right back when I told him about the letter you had received."
Blair sat silently for a minute, then went to retrieve his backpack from its place near the door. Digging through it as he came back, he pulled out a small pad of paper and handed it to his roommate. "See if that helps jog your memory, Jim."
Jim looked at the pad of paper, which was covered with his cryptic notes and some doodles that he didn't recall doing. "What is this, Chief?"
"Notes that you were taking while you were on the phone with McConnel. You seemed to be in a small zone-out, but tracking everything that was said to you." Blair reached over and turned the pad in Jim's hand so that he could look at it again. "I never knew you could draw Celtic knot works, they're pretty good too."
Looking at the doodles, he answered, "I didn't know what I was doing. I've never done anything like that before." As he studied the knot works, he thought he saw what appeared to be animals in the curling twisting lines. "You ever see anything like this before?" He pointed out the largest of the many knots, the one with the animals worked into it.
Blair looked at the knot picture, smiling. "Yeah. Mike used to draw one similar to that a lot. Asked her about it once, she told me it was a dragon and a cat, locked together ? but not in battle."
"I didn't think Ireland had large cats, Sandburg." He tossed the pad to the coffee table, leaned back on the couch again and rubbed his eyes.
His head whipping around fast, hair tumbling into his face, and brushed back impatiently, Blair asked, "What made you say 'Ireland,' Jim?"
Still scrubbing his face, trying to motivate himself to stay awake a bit longer, he answered without thinking. "I don't know. Seemed right?"
"Jim, Mike's whole family can trace their roots back to Ireland. Heck, she even speaks 'the Irish' when she gets mad. I wonder how you knew that?" Blair got up and went back to the table and his laptop. "You know, this could be a manifestation of your sixth sense, Jim. You could've been tapping into it without realizing it and came up with that answer, and the idea to draw those knot pictures." He stopped talking when he heard the other man practically growl.
"Sandburg, let's not go there, shall we? I have a hard enough time controlling the five senses I know are enhanced, I don't need a sixth one to deal with."
"I hear you." He pulled up his e-mail account again and started going through it. Not completely forgetting about the little mystery Jim had dropped on him, just letting his subconscious work it out while he got on with his life. He had to write back a few of his friends that had wrote him, congratulating him on his return to the academic halls of Rainier as a Teaching Fellow.
Jim stood up, stretching until his back muscles 'popped' and released the tension that had built up over the day. Looking over at Blair, he realized that it was probably a good thing that they had opted to eat out before heading home. Looked like the kid was going to be hard at it for a while. Deciding to take advantage of the lull, the older man went upstairs to his room, pulled out a fresh pair of sweats, grabbed a large bath sheet, and went back down to the bathroom. As he stepped under the hot water, he felt more muscles relax. He nearly purred as the sensation of the water pouring over his body invited him to indulge in his sense of touch. Since his sentinel senses came on line, a shower was no longer just a simple procedure. It had changed, like so many things had. It became more pleasurable, almost decadent. He had gotten used to the sensations, but he had vowed never to let himself lose control. The water had started turning cold on him when he hear his roommate's heart beat skip, then race out of control. Fear. Turning off the water and grabbing the bath sheet, Jim raced out of the bathroom.
Blair had been busy writing a little note back to Kaitlyn Nakai, but he tracked Jim as his roommate/partner/friend/brother made his way to the bathroom. He listened as the shower came on. He had heard the other man's back pop when he had stretched earlier. It was a little loud, and he knew that the shower was just what Jim needed to relax before going to bed. Sending the note to Kaitlyn, he pulled up the next e-mail. Another note of congratulations from a fellow TA. He responded to it, like he had the four previous ones, sent it and pulled up the last letter in his mailbox. As it opened up, his breath caught in his throat.
"Mr. Sandburg, I believe that you are in possession of a very rare copy of a monograph that I'm quite interested in obtaining. I'm willing to pay up to $5,000 for your book. I should be in Cascade sometime on the morning of the 26th. I'd like to meet with you to discuss this matter in person. Say, your office? At Four PM? I know that you should have that time free, unless you're working with Ellison at that time? No matter, I'll gladly meet with you whenever you can get to your office. I look forward to doing business with you. CSGM@arkadiaego.org" Blair wasn't even aware that Jim had come into the room, until the man had laid a hand on his shoulder. He jumped. "Oh! Don't. Do. That."
"Sorry, Chief. You're about to hyperventilate. Calm down, that's it. Now, what frightened you?" Jim looked over his friend's shoulder to see the letter there on the laptop's screen. He swore. "Damn it!"
Blair had gotten his breathing under control and nodded in agreement with the dripping detective. "No shit! This is really starting to spook me."
"Well, it's not spooking me, just pissing me off."
"Uh, Jim? Do you realize you're dripping all over the floor?"
The Sentinel looked down and saw the rather large puddle forming under him, all over his freshly waxed wood floors. "Oh, damn it!" He walked back towards the bathroom to dry off. Blair followed him, but only to grab a towel out of the 'dirty' hamper and take it back to dry up the water trail that Jim had left in his wake.
By the time a fully dry and dressed Jim Ellison came back out of the bathroom, Blair had finished drying up the puddle and the water trails and was sitting once again at his laptop. "Thanks, Chief. I would've done that, you know."
"Yeah, I know." Blair started typing on the keyboard in front of him. "But I hate to hear you grouse, so I did it for you. Besides, I didn't want to help you wax these damn floors again before next month." His face tightened up as he concentrated on what he was doing.
"Blair, what are you doing?" Jim had come to stand over the younger man and watched as strings of codes scrolled over the screen of the laptop, none of it making sense to him.
"Trying something. I only hope it works. I couldn't do it at the station."
"Why not?"
"It's a hacker program, one that's designed to unravel posting routes. It may take a while. Isn't there a ball game on tonight?" Blair stopped typing and pushed back away from the table.
Jim smiled, the kid was right. Simon wouldn't have approved of using the computers at the station for a hacker's program, no matter the results it could get. And he knew what the Guide was doing now. He needed a distraction, to while away the time waiting for the program to run its course and losing himself in a good rousing game of basketball fit the bill.
"Yeah, I think so. San Antonio and Utah I think. Should be a decent game." He walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of beers while Blair bounded over to the couch to grab the remote control and turned on the television to ESPN2.
Caragh Michaels-McConnel stood on the tarmac of the airfield, waiting patiently with Moiré Michaels and Sean while Steaphan Shannon did the final check on the private jet. "You sure you're going to be okay with this, Sean?"
He looked at her, his green eyes barely visible in the early dawn. "No, I'm not. But Moiré talked to me last night, after you went to bed, and made me understand the necessity of the situation."
The older woman pulled her woolen cloak around her shoulders, chuckling. "I knew you'd be upset, Sean. But for me to be able to hear your row? Clear over to my home? I knew then that I'd best get my butt over to your home to explain, myself."
Sean smiled as he pulled his wife's 'mother' into a hug, "And I'm glad that you did. But you will take my suggestion under advisement, won't you?"
Caragh looked at the two of them, confused. "What suggestion, Sean? What are you two talking about? I didn't know you'd come over last night, Mom."
Moiré let out a tinkling laugh. "* That's because you were out like a light, Caragh Lass.* " The woman let go of the Protector and pulled her 'daughter' into a hug. "* He'll be fine, you just need to get out there and back before he'll stop worrying.* "
"* And the suggestion he made? * "
"* I'll be working on that the minute I get into the office, Greer's people have to be ready at all times to step up in case of emergencies. That way I don't have to rely on you all the time.* " Moiré let go of Caragh and stepped back, then spoke again in plain English, rather than the Gaelic that she and her daughter had been talking. "Now, unless I miss my guess, Steaphan is about ready to go. So give your husband a hug and kiss goodbye and get going. After all, the sooner you leave, the sooner you'll get back." And with that parting shot, Moiré left the two alone to say what they needed to say.
"Caragh, watch yourself out there, will you?" He pulled her into a hard embrace.
She returned the hug with all her heart. "I will. You let Lee help you, and if you have any problems, make sure he talks with Moiré or you can call me. You have the name of the hotel I'll be staying at? The room number?"
Sean let go of her to pat his breast pocket. "All right here, Mike. Cascade Arms, room 1028, Steve's in the next room over, 1029, and you'll be visiting both Natural Herbs & Plants as well as Gaia's Medicine Closet. I've got the phone numbers for them as well. You going to try to see Sandburg while you're there?"
Caragh smiled. "Might as well, if I have the time. It's been years since I've been on a buying trip, but from what I recall, it's rather hectic. So I may not."
Sean grabbed up her suitcase and walked towards the plane with her, having noticed that Steaphan has boarded and was waiting. "Make the time. Let him know that you didn't just blow off that offer a few years ago, that you never got the message in time." He reached up and pulled open the baggage compartment and put the suitcase in.
"How did you find out?"
"Doris."
Caragh shook her head. "Now I have proof for my next paper. There really are no secrets in a small town."
Steaphan poked his head out of the plane's doorway. "You about ready to go, Mike? We're scheduled to lift off in about ten minutes."
"Yeah, Steve." She looked up at the pilot and waved for him to go on with preflight preparations. She turned back to her husband. "Sean. I'll be okay. Thomas is taking over my classes for me, Meltons approved of this absence of mine and Lee has been briefed on his temporary duties as Guardian."
"I'm not worried about what might happen here, Mike. This is Cascade you're heading off to." He steadied her as she climbed aboard the plane; the steps were not exactly normal sized.
Once inside the plane, she turned around and let go of a grin that could've charmed the skin off a snake. "Where they have fifty-two ways of ordering coffee and I plan on trying each one all over again. And before you ask, yes, I packed my rain gear, and my walking stick."
He looked up at her and dug something out of his coat pocket. "Good, but you forgot this at the house." He handed up a paper wrapped item.
Taking the package from him, she peeled back the paper and revealed her small, five shot revolver in its holster. Closer examination of the paper showed it to be a Federal Carry and Concealment Permit issued in her name. "I won't need it, Sean." She went to hand it back to him, only to have the door close in her face. "Fine. We'll discuss this when I get back," she muttered, knowing full well he'd hear her. Putting the weapon on a seat, she went to the cockpit to join Steaphan.
Sean had heard her all right, and had relayed her reaction to Moiré. "I just wonder what her reaction will be when she finds her Kevlar vest in her luggage?"
"Sean, laddie, you packed that away for her too?"
"Yeah. That's why I wouldn't let her carry the suitcase."
The Hawker Executive business jet took off from the Galloway County Airfield just as the sun made its full appearance above the horizon. Steaphan Shannon smiled as the bird climbed to it's cruising altitude, feeling every little wiggle and vibration the new aircraft had through his whole body. It was electric. Settling the plane into cruise mode, he turned to his passenger. "Mike?" She turned to face him. "We should land in Cascade about 0900hrs, local time, or about five hours from now. Why don't you head back and get a little rest?"
Caragh smiled. "Do I look like I need it, Steve?"
He snorted, shaking his head. "If I say 'yes', you'll probably deck me, but if I say 'no,' I'd be lying."
"I won't deck you. Not while you're flying, anyway." She glanced over at the controls, noticing that even though he had settled the plane into it's cruising altitude, he hadn't engaged the autopilot. "You planning on staying up here the entire flight?"
"You know me. I just don't trust that autopilot."
She let out a small chuckle. "Right, more like you love the 'feel' of the plane around you. I do know you, Steve. Your sense of touch is unreal, your sight slightly better than average -- made you one hell of a pilot in the Navy, and one of the best in the civilian world." Running a light hand over the spare yoke, even she could feel the tiniest of vibrations in the thing. Vibrations that Steaphan used to feel everything that happened on the control surfaces. "You had Coran tweak the controls, didn't you?"
"Makes it easier for me to fly this baby."
"But what if Steaphanie has to fly this 'baby'? Can she handle the controls the way you have them set now?" Steaphanie was Steaphan's twin sister and one of three pilots that were employed by the De Danu Corporation.
Steaphan nodded his head, eyeing all the gauges and surrounding airspace as he did so. "Yeah, she can. We took the Aine up a week ago after Coran 'tweaked' the controls. I handled it most of the time, but we did a few touch and goes with Steaphy at the helm. She did just fine."
Caragh sighed and shook her head as she got up from the co-pilot's chair, set to got back to the passenger compartment. Aine was the name that Steaphan had chosen for the Hawker Executive when the company had taken delivery of it, six months ago. "Fine, just make sure that she stays current on any changes that you make to the Aine. After all, she's just your average, basic human. No enhanced senses like you."
"Steaphy wouldn't like to hear you say that, Siomahnka. But you're right."
She had winced at the pilot's use of the ancient word for Shaman. It wasn't well known, even among the Clan, that Caragh was now the Shaman of the Clan and Tribe. Had been since Two Eagles had passed away, now three years ago. Shrugging the comment off, she asked, "Can I get you anything from the galley?"
"Sure. I think the ground crew stocked the cooler with some tea." He turned his head slightly to see her walk back the galley and open the small refrigerator. Dragging his attention back to flying, he barely acknowledged her when she put the plastic bottle of tea in its proper holder for him and left the flight deck.
Caragh walked back to the passenger area, grabbed up her backpack and pulled out a notebook and the Wilkins book that she'd brought with her. Sitting down at the table in the middle of the cabin, she opened up both and continued to take notes on what Blackie Wilkins had written.
Cascade, Washington
Mid-Morning, 22 January
The flight had been uneventful, the landing at Cascade's small airfield a breeze, but the drive from the airfield to the Cascade Arms wasn't. Caragh had found out that Moiré had taken upon herself to make sure that a rental car, a Chevy Suburban, was waiting for her at the arrivals gate. It was as she was lifting her suitcase out of the baggage compartment of the Aine that her day started to go down hill. The case had been heavier than she had expected, but she got it into the Suburban just fine, then she opened it up. There, on top of her neatly packed travel clothes, lay her county issued Kevlar vest with a note from Sean.
Caragh; Don't get mad. I may be a bit overprotective, and this may seem a bit much, but I feel better knowing that you have this. Just in case. Oh, and don't forget to keep the Federal Permit on you at all times. And please? Take the SP-101 with you, wherever you go in Cascade? If only so I feel better about your being there? Love you! Sean
Caragh had closed up the suitcase, and spent a few minutes at the back of the vehicle adjusting her handgun and it's holster on her belt. She had opted for the holster that placed the small, five shot, handgun at the small of her back, easily concealed under her jacket. By the time she climbed in behind the wheel, Steaphan showed up and was ready to go as well.
Steaphan pulled his seatbelt on as he settled in the passenger seat. "So, Mike, do you remember how to get to the hotel from here?"
Turning the engine over, she scowled at the pilot. "Yes. You get the plane all secured and bedded down for our stay?"
"Of course! Talked with the Ground Boss, he promised that the Hawker will be ready to fly on a moments notice and fully fueled to boot." He settled back as Caragh pulled the dark blue Suburban off the tarmac and on into the traffic of a busy Cascade.
"Good. As much as I enjoyed my time in this city when I was a student, I don't want to stay here a moment longer than I have to." She merged with the traffic that was heading towards downtown Cascade. "Do me a favor, Steve?"
"Sure."
She pulled out of the crawl lane into the fast lane, getting a feel for what the vehicle could handle. "Grab that date planner out of the side pocket of my bag and tell me at what ungodly hour we're supposed to be at Nature's."
Steaphan twisted slightly and pulled her bag up from behind the driver's seat, found the date book and opened it. "Hmm. Looks like we'll have just enough time to check in, grab a bite to eat and head out to the meeting."
"What time?"
"1300hrs. Have you adjusted your watch yet?" He put the planner down on the dashboard and took his own watch off, setting the time to Pacific Coast, instead of Central.
Caragh nodded her head as she noted that her turn off was four miles away and moved back over to the crawl lane. "Don't have to. New watch. See?" She crossed her arm over her body so that he could see the watch.
Leaning over, he whistled. "Nice. Gift from Sean? Or from Moiré?" The watch was a traveler's model. Instead of the one face, it had two, one of which could be set to the wearer's regular time zone, the other could be set to whatever time zone they were traveling to.
Pulling her arm back, she slowed for the exit. "Moiré. Gave it to me this morning. I think she's feeling a bit guilty about taking me from Sean."
"Well, if the old lady ever wants to adopt another grandchild, tell her I'm more than willing." They both laughed over the idea of Moiré adopting Steaphan, a 37 year old man.
They were still laughing when Caragh pulled up the to Cascade Arms and a valet came out to meet them.
Willow Springs, Arkansas Mid-Morning, 22 January
No one paid much attention to the tall, slender, dark clothed man that wandered around the Campus. He was just young enough looking to pass for a prospective student, which was what he was posing as. He climbed the steps to the Sciences building and made it a point to look at the room directory before heading towards the steps to the basement. Stopping outside of room B-25, he listened for movement behind the solid door. After a moment, he knocked.
"Come in!" A male voice called out.
Opening the door, the tall man looked at the only occupant of the room ? a younger man with reddish-blonde hair, dressed in Khaki pants, a white dress shirt and an oatmeal colored cable knit sweater. "Dr. McConnel?"
Thomas McCaigh looked up from the lesson planner he was studying to look at his visitor. "No, I'm sorry. Dr. McConnel had to take an unexpected leave of absence. Is there something I can help you with? I'm her Assistant, Tom McCaigh." He held out his hand in greeting.
The other man shook hands with the assistant. "Alex Krycek. I had hoped to catch Dr. McConnel before I had to leave town."
"Oh, then you're not a prospective student?" Thomas sat back down behind the desk and gestured for the visitor to take the chair in front of the huge desk.
"No, we went to school together for a short time, at Rainier. I was passing through on my way to a dig in New Mexico."
"Ah, so you're an Archaeologist? Mike will be so mad that she missed your visit."
Alex smiled, turning up the charm. "I'm just sorry that I missed her. She wouldn't happen to be in the area still, would she? I could try to catch up with her before I have to leave tomorrow."
"Nah, she had to go out of town. I don't know where to, but she left out early this morning." Thomas looked at his watch then stood up. "I hate to give you the bum's rush, Mr. Krycek, but I have a class to teach in five minutes. If you'd like to leave a note for Mike, feel free to use the office. Just make sure you lock the door on the way out. We've tests coming up soon and, well, you know how some students can be."
Alex stood up and nodded his head in agreement with the other man. "Oh, yeah. I remember my student days well. If you don't mind me using the desk, I would like to leave a quick note for Mike. Letting her know I was through here and where I'll be for the next six months or so?"
Thomas waved to the tall man. "Feel free. I have to go now or the students will take my tardiness as a sign that there's no class and split. It was nice meeting you." They shook hands again and the younger man fairly ran out of the office to get to the class.
Alex closed the office door, locking it, and turned around to study the office of Caragh Michaels-McConnel. He had an assignment, one the first man had royally botched up, killing a man in the process, and not getting the item he'd been sent to retrieve. Alex had had the pleasure of killing that screw-up before heading to Willow Springs himself. That cigarette smoking S.O.B. had sent him here to find a rare book, one that reportedly was in the possession of Dr. McConnel. After looking at all the books neatly displayed on the shelves that lined the office, he couldn't locate it. He tried the desk, finding it unlocked, and the filing cabinets. Nothing. Sighing, he pulled out his cell phone and placed a call.
"Yes?"
"Krycek. It's not here."
"And Dr. McConnel?"
"Also not here. According to her teaching assistant, she had to take an unexpected trip. Left sometime early this morning. Unknown destination."
"That is unfortunate. Extricate yourself quietly, and return here. I should have the good doctor located by then."
Alex looked at the dead phone in his hand, then shut it off. Looking around, he spied a blank notepad and pulled it to him, pulling a pen out of his black leather coat. He wrote a quick note, for the benefit of the young man he'd met, folded it, and left the office, making sure that the door securely locked behind him. Within 20 minutes, he was out of the small town of Willow Springs and on his way back to Washington, DC.
Webmaster: PJ Browning