I wrote this story for pleasure and therapeutic benefits, not profit (I wish). For adult readers only, please (that means at least 18 years of age and older).

Dedications: This is for McVey, in payment for her bid in the auction. It is my contribution towards our goal of a fifth season of TS. Thank you, McVey for your support, your suggestions during the writing process, and your letters.

This is also for the people who rallied for Winn. I'm sorry, I didn't know.

And to my beta readers -- Puff and the Divine Ms. M (also to Regina, write faster!, I miss you), who suffered through this with me. You guys are supreme. Also, to Michelle, who lent her steadying hand and support from across the border (big wave). Thank you, thank you. And to Isabel who helps me translate Paddy's words for the best price of all. . .friendship.

I'd also like to thank Mrs. Fish who never makes me feel like I'm asking stupid questions. And always has the answer.

This story was a. . .um, bear. To everyone who kept after me, thanks, you all have my gratitude. It wouldn't have gotten done without you.

No Mercy
December 6, 1998
~~~

Finale to Circles

~~~

The moment he opened his eyes, he could sense a. . .wrongness.

Glancing upwards, he could see the sky stretched out in a sea of grey. Not the turbulent grey of a storm. Not the smooth dense darkness of night. Just a flat, dull, lifeless grey.

Turning his head to the right, he saw a meadow of dark, dull green grass stretch out as far as the distant horizon. Not the ripe green of healthy plants. Where was he?

Lost. The panther was lost. Impossible as it seemed, nothing looked familiar, felt real. Where was this place? More important, why was he alone? Scenting the air, the great cat turned cautiously, searching. . . until a familiar smell drifted towards him.

With a satisfied growl, the animal followed the comforting fragrance.

Off in the distance, a wolf began to call.

Stretching out powerful legs gracefully, the streak of dark shot through the murky light towards the sound, urgency in his movements emphasized his desperation to reach his goal.

Instantly, the scent grew stronger, but, as the great cat moved closer, it discovered the spoor he followed had been masked by another.

The feline stopped as a shadow detached itself from a nearby tree.

The wolf?

No. Too big for the wolf. The scent was all wrong.

This scent said 'man'. An enemy spoor. The odor of a hunter, blood of past prey tainted him.

As the cat watched, he raised a bow, string drawn taunt, arrow sighted. . .

Suddenly unleashing the sound of death in flight.

The cat stood, frozen in place, tracking the lethal path. . .until a streak of grey blotted out the image.

Then a dull thud of impact. . .

And the wolf lay on the ground at the great cat's feet.

As the hunter laughed, an anguished roar split the air.

"BBBLLLAIIIRRRRR!!!!!"

"What! What is it, big guy?"

The horrific vision faded as warm arms encircled him.

"Jim? Jim? Are you all right? Damn, man. You scared me out of my wits! You sounded like a. . ."

The panther silenced the wolf with his mouth and covered his mate's body with his own, hands reaching out, needing to reaffirm their physical and spiritual connections in a way he knew best.

Surging forward, the Sentinel swept the covers aside as he pressed his Guide back onto the mattress.

"Jim!" the smaller man squeaked in surprise at the move. "What???"

Suddenly, the big man crawled up Blair, leaned over and took one of his nipples in his mouth. It congested into a sharp point of flesh immediately.

As he worshipped his nipple, the Guide looked down between his lover's spread legs. The Sentinel's cock, now so hard it curved back against his belly, was starting to throb and flex, moisture pearling from the opening.

Before the younger man could react to this temptation, Jim took one hand and moved it down to cup it around Blair's scrotum. As he started to gently squeeze and knead it in the palm of his large hands, Blair lifted his hips from the bed.

Without warning, Jim leaned down and took Blair's cock head in his mouth.

"Whoa, man," he exclaimed as Jim hollowed out his cheeks and pulled the entire length of Blair's dick into his mouth. Within seconds, the younger man's penis started to fill with a rush of heat and blood.

Jim, as if by instinct, began to relax his throat to adapt to his lover's rapidly hardening organ.

"Mmm, Jim," Blair moaned helplessly as he opened his legs farther to accommodate the large body pressing down on him. "Ahhhh. . ." Blair moaned. His lover was wild! He marveled at how good that mouth felt, so hot, so wet. He felt Jim swirl his tongue on the underside of his dick, slowly moving his mouth up and down as one hand lifted Blair's hips slightly and a finger dipped to caress the dark passage into his body. The dual stimuli were just too much. With seconds, he started to cum in Jim's mouth. His Sentinel swallowed the entire length of his cock, and kept it there until Blair's climax began to subside. Finally, Jim removed his mouth, rubbing his face in the soft hair at Blair's groin before sitting back on his heels.

"Feel better?" his Guide whispered with the little amount of breath he had left.

The Sentinel smiled in the early morning light. "Much."

Blair sat up, reaching for his lover. "And turnabout is fair- -" he started to say and stopped as his fingers encircled Jim's limp member.
"Jim?"

His Sentinel smiled as he pulled his Guide across the wet stain in the sheets and kissed him.

~~~

Only an hour of daylight left, and the search had been going at a snail's crawl. Jenkins looked over his left shoulder, taking in the situation around him at a glance. Having formed a classic semicircle search pattern, twenty armed personnel clad in camouflage fatigues tramped through the thick growth of foliage. Not ten yards away, several more painstakingly explored the river's raging currents using divers and high-tech sounding devises. They'd been at it nonstop for hours. The man had fallen how many feet into a river? Why would anybody think he could have survived that? Clearly, such an extensive search was a waste of man power, and, it was growing dark.

How much longer?

Finally, Squadron Leader raised her arm to call for a halt. The weary line gratefully slowed to a stop.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" came a scream from behind them. Cook raced frantically down the line to stand in front of her.

The woman towered over the small, angry figure, outweighing him several pounds but, in the face of all that, he stood his ground.

"I'm packing it in," she said calmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"The hell you are," Cook hissed, hands balled into fists against his thighs.

"Look, we've been at this for hours--"

"So you'll be at it for hours more!" he interrupted heatedly.

Still, she tried to remain calm. "It'll be dark soon--"

"So I'll call in for lights!"

She tried to remain reasonable. "Listen--" she began, only to have her sentence cut short by the hiss of metal against leather and she found herself staring down the barrel of a very large gun.

"No, you listen," Cook said, his voice menacing. "The first person that tries to leave gets a bullet for their trouble."

Off to his left a shadow detached itself from the crowd. Cook spun on the balls of his feet and squeezed off one round before spinning back to again aim the gun in the center of Squadron Leader's chest.

He barely acknowledged the gasp of pain behind him. "This is a modified clip," he warned her. "I made sure to have enough for everybody."

~~~

Shifting his weight as he headed back to his office, Blair Sandburg's face wore a secret little smile that explained the reason for his tiredness and soreness.

For the second time that day, he questioned his desire to teach. He wondered if the parents of these kids had any idea. . . sometimes he felt like knowledge was a liquid and his students' heads were sieves.

Juggling the small mound of books and papers he carried from one arm to the other, Blair freed a hand to open his office door. Someday Rainier University was going to spring for a real office and take him out of this glorified storage closet. Shaking his head in disgust, he dropped his burden on a nearby table and plopped down at his desk.

He wondered how the Councilor's Chief Aide was doing and wondered for the hundredth time how they'd gotten out of there alive. Well, almost all of them.

Reaching for his cell phone to dial Justin, his fingers froze when he thought he heard a yelp, like a dog, just outside his door. Dropping the phone on the desktop, Blair moved towards the sound.

Cautiously opening the office door, Blair peered out into the hallway only to find it empty.

"Mr. Sandburg?"

He turned in time to see one of his student workers who had volunteered to help him organize his papers coming slowly down the hall.

"Did you hear that?" he asked her as she stopped in front of him.

Kei frowned at him, turning her head to the side. "Hear, what?"

"It sounded like a dog." He listened another moment. "There it is again."

"I don't hear anything," she protested.

"It's coming from out here somewhere."

The young woman looked at him as if she thought he'd lost his mind. "A dog, in the building? I thought they didn't allow dogs in the building."

Shutting the office door behind him, Blair stepped out into the hall. "Don't you hear it?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry, but I don't hear anything."

"There it is again," he said, stepping out into the hall. "I can hear it, plain as day. Listen!" he commanded sharply.

Just then Blair caught sight of a large grey shape limping around a corner of the corridor.

"There it goes," he shouted, taking off after it on a dead run.

"Mr. Sandburg, if it's hurt, shouldn't you call somebody? Security? Animal Control? It could be vicious."

Blair continued as if not hearing her objections. "Come on, we're going to lose it!"

The student shook her head, then took off running after him.

They had just reached the far end of the hall when there was a rumbling behind them.

Both stopped and turned just as Blair's office door bowed outward and exploded in a cascade of wood, fire and smoke.

The shockwave from the blast threw Blair and his student helper into the wall with enough force to knock them both unconscious.

Somewhere close by, a wolf howled.

~~~

Choate stirred, so warm and snug he didn't want to wake. As he turned to settle in more comfortably, the blanket surrounding him moved.

Cracking his eyes open a slit, the Marine looked down onto the crown of glossy black hair resting on the center of his chest.

Opening his eyes further to scan the room, he saw he was in a strange room. Justin lay sprawled across him fully clothed, one leg wedged between Choate's thighs, his arms tightly encircling the Marine's body as if shielding him from harm.

Choate's left arm and shoulder were immobilized with an elastic sling - he immediately recognized the Estate's handiwork.

Reaching up with his free hand, he tenderly dug his fingers into Justin's hair and popped the clasp of the clip imprisoning it. To the Marine's surprise, the mass sprang free, spilling like black gold into his hands and down Justin's back onto the covers. Wrapping it around his fingers, he brought a portion to his face and breathed deeply.

"Mmmm," his imp purred. "I knew that'd be the first thing you did once you were awake."

Choate looked down into the deep green eyes shining through the dark curtain of thick hair.

Young Evers graced him with a sleepy smile. "I thought I'd make it easy for you and not braid it."

The Marine flexed his fingers, revelling in the soft texture. "You could've left it down."

"And spoil your fun?" Justin hummed as he arched into the luscious sensation.

"Where am I?" his lover asked as he continued to run his fingers through the silken web.

Justin's smile widened. "In bed with the love of your life."

Choate returned the smile. "Who likes living on the edge," he said as he reached down and gave the bubble of Justin's butt a squeeze.

Justin closed his eyes and groaned as he pressed their groins together. "If you mean this edge, oh, yes!"

The big man lightly swatted the rump under his hand. "If you're trying to sidetrack me, it isn't working."

"Sidetrack?" Justin blinked, brought from his state by the swat. "No, actually, I was trying to catch a little action from my main guy."

Choate glanced up towards the corner. "I'd rather not have an audience," he said pointedly.

Justin followed his lover's gaze and froze in horror. Somehow he'd missed the small camera mounted in the corner. "Oh," Justin squeaked, blushed dull red, and started to slide off the bed.

Choate gripped a slender hip to stop him. "Oh, no, little boy. You're not getting away from me that easily."

"But, Paddy--" the small man murmured, confused by his lover's antics.

"There's that little matter of a Chinese-red gag on that prisoner back there." The Marine waited. "Want to explain how that happened?"

"We had to use something," Justin began.

He received a good, hard swat for that answer.

"Oww, Paddy," Justin hazarded a glance back at the camera, "Not in front of them," he whispered, then buried his hot face in his lover's neck. "I'd have done anything to save you," he said softly against his Marine's ear. "Don't you know that?"

"You could've been killed," Choate growled, trying not let Justin's plea affect him.

Justin raised up to look into the larger man's eyes. "I couldn't just do nothing, Paddy. Please don't be mad."

He frowned. "You and Blair could've been killed."

Justin leaned down and pressed a very tentative kiss on his lover's lips and drew back to look into his eyes once again. "I couldn't just do nothing," he whispered again.

It was the eyes, coupled with that unsure kiss that finally broke him. "This is far from over, little boy," the Marine said in a harsh whisper. "When my arm heals, we're going to have this talk again."

Justin nodded, happy for the reprieve. "I know, but it won't change anything. I'd do it all over again."

Choate shook his head as he pressed the small body back down next to him on the bed and tucked the glossy black head of hair under his chin. "What am I going to do with you, little boy?" He sensed rather than saw the smile.

"Well, I have several really good ideas," Justin said as he glanced back at the camera, "but not with an audience."

*Paddy swatted him again, drawing another yelp of pain. "Better not be with an audience."

"Viper."

At the sound of his name, the agent looked over Justin's shoulder.

Justin felt all the muscles of his lover's chest harden to granite. He glanced up into Paddy's face and gasped at the look he saw there. Quickly, the younger man turned to see what had caused such a change.

"Stone," Choate spat the name as if it were something distasteful. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking over as Prime of this facility."

Choate shook his head. "Brown is Prime."

The man called Stone stood still for a moment, watching them with an unreadable expression on his face, then said in a flat voice, "Brown is dead, Viper. You watched him fall. He couldn't have survived impact. The Estate can't stand on ceremony. We have to move on."

Justin heard the sharp intake of breath from his lover and narrowed his eyes at the stranger called Stone. He didn't know him, but Evers hated him already.

"Where'd you learn your manners?" the young man had to ask, confident in the arms of his lover.

"You just warm the bed, this doesn't concern you," Stone said, dismissing the younger man with hardly a glance.

"What the fuck--" Justin began, outraged at the treatment he had received from this stranger.

"Dulce," Choate said quietly, placing a soothing hand on his young lover's back. "Shhh."

Justin swallowed his angry reply to Stone and lay back down on Choate's broad chest.

"You trained him well. He obeys better than you did at that age," Stone said quietly.

"Get out, Stone," Viper's told him, his voice deadly calm.

"We need to talk, Viper--"

"Get out, now."

The older man looked as if he were about to argue, but the agent's countenance changed his mind. "When you're feeling better," he said, then slowly backed out of the door.

"Paddy?"

Choate heard his lover's voice from a great distance and, from somewhere deep inside him, he realized Justin sounded afraid. The agent blinked and his vision sharpened. Justin watched him, his eyes large and full of concern. "Dulce?"

"Who was that man?"

"A bad dream I thought I'd never have again." The large man pushed until Justin rested his head back on his chest.

"Do you really think Brown is dead, Paddy?"

The Marine had no answer for him.

~~~~~~

The Chief Aide paced the confines of his room like a caged animal. Five days of confinement, two of them without Justin. Dr. Madueke had wanted to keep him for two more, but quickly changed his mind at the agent's expression upon hearing that suggestion.

When Aces and Clutch had dropped him off at the Councilor's residence over an hour ago, Justin had not been there to meet him. Vincent said he had left in the early hours of the morning and not been home all day. Highly agitated, Choate threw himself down into the big chair by the fireplace. Where was he?

Just as Choate decided to go look for his truant young lover, the door slowly opened and Justin peeked in.

"Paddy?"

"Where were you?" he demanded a little more harshly than he'd meant to.

Justin hesitated, a blank look of confusion crossing his face, then he edged into the room. "I went looking for that wine you like. Orlaf was out, we had to call several places before we found it." He held out the bottle, a festive ribbon tied around its neck.

"I don't want wine, dulce. I want you."

Justin looked at his lover, the same blank look gliding across his face, then he placed the bottle of wine on the table and stepped forward. "I'm sorry, Paddy. I didn't think it would take that long. I wanted everything to be perfect when you got home." He slid onto his lover's lap. "I missed you," he said as he snuggled closer. "I guess we shouldn't've tried to make out in the shower back at the Estate, huh?"

The Marine smiled as he rubbed his chin across the fragrant hair beneath it. "It's my fault for forgetting how talented that mouth of yours is." He laughed. "I haven't cum hard enough to lose my balance in a long time."

Justin looked up with a smile. "Dr. Madueke was really mad, wasn't he?"

"If I hadn't been in so much pain I would've choked him. He had no right to send you home."

"He did what he thought was best for his patient, Paddy. He was right, we could've really gotten hurt."

Choate nuzzled Justin's neck. "I'm feeling much better now."

The smaller man laughed. "I can tell."

"Want to try it again? Maybe on the bed this time?"

Justin frowned. "Umm, Paddy. I'm really tired. And I know you need to rest. Can I get a rain check?"

The big man straightened. "Rain check?"

Justin nodded. "Yes."

Choate looked at his lover. Dark shadows, like bruises, showed under his eyes. Feeling selfish not to have noticed earlier, he said. "I guess a nap would do us both good."

He rose and began to steer Justin towards the bed.

"No," Justin said, pulling his arm free from the light grip. "I'm going to let you rest. I'll be back and we'll eat dinner together." He reached up on his toes and planted a quick kiss on Paddy's lips.

Then he was gone, leaving his lover to stare in confusion at the tightly-closed door.

~~~~~~

Thirty hours later, Justin stood in front of the wall-sized mirror in his room, hardly recognizing the person staring back at him. He felt bloated and ugly. Pressing on his stomach that felt hard and tight, he wondered if he were getting fat? And his head hurt. Turning, he opened a window. The room felt close and warm.

What was he doing?

He felt so alone, lost. . .and empty. Paddy was on the mend. Now that his lover had most of his strength back, Justin wanted nothing more than to climb into his lap and pull the strong arms around him.

So, why did young Evers go out of his way to avoid him?

What was he doing?

Justin missed his presence, longed for his kisses, ached to feel his love surround him. He especially wanted all the physical aspects of their relationship. He needed to feel safe with strong arms around him, feel Paddy's hardness inside him, filling him, completing him, warming him. It had been so long, he wanted to make love to his big Marine until neither of them could think. . .

What was he doing?

Why stand here, half a house away from the room where his beloved lay sleeping, daydreaming of being with him? Why had he been spurning all Paddy's advances over the past few days? Resisting the offer of sleeping in the same bed with him? Balking at staying in the same room with him?

Justin found himself craving to touch Paddy's face, taste his skin, take his hardness in his mouth and. . .

What was he doing?

His center literally throbbed at the very thought of taking Paddy's erection deep inside him. Of paying homage to that masterpiece of flesh with every atom in his being. . . it screamed for nothing else. So, why did Justin know, if he knew nothing else, that he couldn't? The answer to that question flashed in and out of his mind like lightning, leaving a momentary darkness. When Justin's world righted itself, it left the young man wondering what he'd been thinking about. . .

~~~

"Talk to me, dulce," Choate said in that voice he used to guarantee his lover's compliance.

He had finally caught his elusive heartmate before he could escape into his bedroom once again. Justin carried a glass of dark juice.

Young Evers wavered, clutching the glass to his chest. "Talk about what?"

"Is it something I've done, or haven't done?"

Again, that blank look crossed Justin's face. It reminded the Marine of a circuit breaker resetting itself. "I don't understand."

"You've been avoiding me, amor," he said, taking the glass from Justin's hands and putting it on the table nearby.

"No, Paddy. I--"

Choate silenced the soft lips with his own.

Justin immediately swayed against the hard body before him, small desperate hands clutching at his lover's shirt.

One moment, the full, hot mouth beneath his opened to swallow him whole, the next moment, Justin stood an arm's length away from him. Eyes wide with fear.

"Talk to me!" the Marine demanded.

"I'm just tired, Paddy," Justin replied wearily.

Choate reached for him and Justin stepped away.

Retrieving his glass, he backed up, "Please, Paddy! Tomorrow. Okay? We'll talk tomorrow."

And the bedroom door closed softly in his face.

The big Marine didn't know what was wrong between them, but he'd give him tonight to work things out in his own head. Tomorrow he'd have his answers or there'd be hell to pay.

~~~

Choate sat straight up in bed, his body drenched in sweat, his heart racing. What? A dream. Something had awakened him. He listened for a moment to the stillness of the room. No one there. Something had awakened him and he knew for certain that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Throwing off the covers, the chief aide flung himself from the bed and hurried from the room, not even bothering to pull on a robe.

Enough was enough!

Moments later, he knocked on a door as he softly called, "Justin?" He tried the knob and found the door locked. That was truly odd. "Justin, are you all right?" Alarmed, he knocked again. "Open the door."

Pausing, he listened. There it was again.

"Justin, answer me." He rattled the knob again, this time shaking the door on its hinges. Losing all semblances of calm, he snarled, "Little boy, you have two seconds to open this door."

Another sob and a muffled gasp of pain filtered through the wood. Without any thought to the damage he'd do to his healing shoulder, Choate used his body as a battering ram. The door separated from its frame with a resounding crack. Choate raced through the darkened room towards the light.

He found Justin in the bathroom, naked, sitting on the toilet. Tears streamed down his face. In one hand he held a large knife, in the other a foot long hank of hair.

"Justin?" Choate approached him cautiously.

The young man turned pain-filled eyes on him.

"What. . .?"

"I want you so badly, Paddy," he sobbed, looking small and very vulnerable. "And you want me, too, don't you?" he asked, sounding unsure. "I can see it when you look at me." He looked away. "Can't say 'no' much longer." He looked down at the hair in his hands. "Have to make you stop wanting me."

Choate eased closer. "So you cut your hair, dulce?" he asked gently.

Justin nodded. "Tried to cut it all off. But I couldn't." He sighed hopelessly. "Remembered," he paused, "your hands in it. The look on your face when you touch it, see it. You love my hair," Evers said in an anguished whisper.

The big Marine came close enough to touch. "But that isn't the only thing I love about you, dulce," he said softly as he knelt at Justin's feet. Cautiously, he took the hair and knife from his hands, laying them on the counter.

"Won't be able to say 'no' much longer, Paddy," he said, helplessly.

Choate brushed the tangled locks back from the much-loved face. "Why do you have to say 'no' at all, amor?"

There was that blank, confused look in his lover's eyes again. This time all the alarms blared loudly in Choate's head.

"I don't know, Paddy." Huge tears began trailing down Justin's face. "I want you inside me so badly," he hiccupped/sobbed.

Choate smiled, touching gentle fingertips to his lover's face. 'Madre de Dios! He was burning up.' "I can do that, dulce," he assured the smaller man. "No problem at all."

"Can't," Justin said sadly, shaking his head to accompany it. "Urgh!" He clutched at his stomach and leaned forward.

"Why not, dulce. Tell me. What's wrong?"

Justin closed his eyes, the muscles of his neck bulging. "Hurts, Paddy. I have to go, but it hurts," he wailed, groaning as he strained.

The Choate caught the scent of hot blood. "Dulce," he pulled lightly at Justin's arms. "Let me see."

"No!" Justin hid his face in the crook of Paddy's shoulder and resisted.

"I don't have time for modesty, chiquito," Choate said sternly, as he gently, but firmly, pulled Justin down from his perch and across his lap.

Pulling a towel from a nearby rack, Choate carefully wiped away the blood and matter. Laying the towel aside, he parted Justin's cheeks and placed the tip of his finger against the red and swollen opening.

"No, Paddy!" Justin screamed, scrambling frantically to get away. "No! Don't touch me."

Choate clamped a grip on Justin's hips to hold him in place. "It's just my finger, dulce. I need to see what's wrong."

"No, Paddy! Nooo!" And Justin began bearing down hard, the strain showing in the tension of his back muscles.

From his rectum came a heavy trickle of blood as Justin began forcing something from his body.

Then Choate saw it. Dark, cylindrical, but flat on the bottom, except for a slightly raised bump. The object slid sluggishly from his lover's anus about a half inch before it stopped. Then no amount of Justin's straining could push it further.

Justin groaned and cried out and the trail of blood flowing from him darkened in color and took on a foul smell.

Becoming alarmed, Choate ordered, "Dulce, stop."

"No, Paddy. I got to go!" The young man cried out in pain as he bore down again.

Not knowing what else to do, Choate leaned forward, placed two fingers at the base of Justin's skull, and pushed hard.

Justin went limp in his arms with a sigh.

~~~

The Elder's Council had just adjourned its monthly meeting.

Outside, a tall, bronzed man, his coarse black hair tied back in a tail, stood outside the meeting hall, waiting for the tribal chief. They had business to discuss.

The old man's face lit up when he saw him. "Silver Fox. It has been a long time."

Silver Fox smiled shyly as he pulled the smaller body hard up against his in a hug. "Not that long, grandfather."

The old man pulled back, dark eyes shining with love. "You will stay with us awhile?"

Before the young man could answer, the phone in the inside pocket of his coat began to hum.

Frowning slightly, Damien Silver Fox pulled it out and flipped it open. "Yeah?"

"I need you," came the terse reply.

Damien recognized the voice immediately. "What's up? I thought we were off line for a while."

Ignoring the question, the voice asked in the same terse tone, "How fast can you get to home base?"

Damien didn't hesitate to answer, "Twenty minutes."

"Make it ten."

And the line went dead.

~~~~~~

Detective Ellison sat at his desk indulging himself in an instant replay of this morning's events involving one curly-haired, blue-eyed Shaman-of-the-city, when an icy chill tracked its course straight up his spine. He frowned, losing his train of thought, and froze at the computer terminal. A premonition of danger gripped him tightly, as all noises around him faded into the background until all the Sentinel could hear was the staccato of his own heartbeat. . . and a wolf's howl?

"Jim? Jim?! JIM!!!"

Ellison blinked, his senses clicking back on line like the flick of a light switch. The first image he focused on was the worried face of his captain inches from his own. "Simon?" he asked, confused. Had he zoned? Why? "What happened?"

"You left us for a minute there. You all right?"

Ellison shook his head, remembering the chill of warning, the sound of the wolf. He reached for the phone on the desk and hit a speed dial button.

"I thought you and the kid got that under control."

Jim listened for a minute, snarled, shook the phone and hit speed dial again. "I thought we did, too."

"Jim," Banks said again, agitated by his best officers' antics, "what's wrong?"

The detective shook his head again as he listened to the warble that told him there was trouble on Blair's cell phone line. "Maybe he just forgot to charge the battery again," he said, trying to sound convincing to himself. "Yeah, that's it. Sandburg can quote you chapter and verse about the lifestyle and cultural habits of some obscure civilization, but can never seem to remember a simple thing like recharging his cell phone battery."


Just then an officer called from the doorway. "Ellison! A call just came through from Rainier--"

The Sentinel was out of the chair and racing for the elevator before the poor man could finish.

~~~~~~

Hoss came flying around the corridor with speed that belied his size and nearly collided with Stealth racing in the opposite direction. The big man caught his partner up to keep him from falling and set him back on his feet.

"What's going on?" the Aussie asked, untangling himself from his friend's grip.

"I heard they just brought C.D. in by chopper."

"Brought him in?" Stealth asked anxiously. "What do you mean, brought him in?"

Hoss shrugged his shoulders. "Viper had him flown in."

Stealth frowned. Clutching his friend by his forearms, he demanded, "Why?"

The big man steadied his companion. "I don't know," he confessed sadly.

Both turned as Aces came into view still wearing his flight suit.

"What's going on?" Stealth demanded, almost before his team mate came close enough to hear the answer.

"C.D.--" the beleaguered man began.

"We know that much," Hoss interrupted impatiently. "Tell us why."

"I don't know why. I only know he was unconscious when I brought him here, that he's in the surgical unit, and that Clutch is in there with him."

"Clutch?!" both men exclaimed simultaneously.

Aces nodded. "I think it's really bad."

"But why would Clutch be in there?" the Aussie asked. "He's not a surgeon, he's a demolition expert."

"That's right," the pilot confirmed.

A horrified expression settled over both men's faces as understanding slowly sank in.

"Where's Viper?" Stealth asked.

"I left him in the observation room," Aces told them. "He sent me for a cup of coffee."

"You go get it. Hoss and I'll go up with him."

Upstairs, in a room constructed of one half-inch thick glass and metal, Viper stood in the front of the first row of seats, pressed up against the giant window.

Down below, a small figure rested face down on the operating table. Justin, dwarfed by the machines around him, lay completely draped in sheets covered with bright red stains of blood. Standing over him were three men in scrubs. One, Hoss and Stealth recognized as Clutch.

"Viper?" Hoss said softly as the door closed behind them.

Their leader didn't turn or acknowledge their presence.

"Viper?" Hoss repeated as both men came closer. "How's he doing?"

Eyes still focused on the operation, he said softly, "I don't know."

"What happened?" the pointman asked.

The Marine shrugged slightly. "I found him in the bathroom."

Stealth came up behind the tense, still figure of their team leader. "But, what happened?"

Molding himself tighter against the glass, Viper answered. "Someone had rigged him."

Not understanding, Hoss repeated, "Rigged?"

Viper nodded. "He's been strange since I came home from the Med Center. Distant. He wouldn't let me touch him, but he'd look at me with. . .such hunger, longing, sadness."

"Did you talk to him about it?" Stealth asked.

Viper shook his head. "I tried, but he'd keep putting me off. At first, I told myself he thought I was angry about the rescue. Was postponing the inevitable -" The big man moaned. "They rigged him with a bomb. Someone took my imp and shoved an explosive device up his ass with a detonation trigger rigged so that the first time I entered him--" In a fit of rage, Viper drew back his fist.

Hoss caught it before it impacted the glass. "He didn't know?"

The Marine shook his head. "No. He would've told me. But he must've suspected something. I should've suspected something. As much as my Justin loves sex, he wouldn't let me touch him." Viper turned to look at him. "He cut his hair so I wouldn't want him. As if there were something that could make me stop wanting him."

"How long have they been at it?" Stealth asked softly.

Viper sighed as he slowly pulled his fist from his agent's grip. "A little over four hours."

The bigger man put his hand on his leader's shoulder and squeezed. "Clutch is the best, boss. He'll get the job done."

"Viper."

All three men jumped at the disembodied voice that interrupted them. Viper recovered first.

"Yes, Damien."

"I got it all." He paused, muttered a weary "damn," and took a deep breath. "The doctors are checking him and finishing up."

"How is he?" the big Marine asked hesitantly.

"We won't know until they finish, Viper, but the prognosis looks good. Meet me in your suite in ten."

~~~

Clutch handed Viper the object sealed in a hard plastic container. It was about three inches long and thick around as his smallest finger.

"It's a revised version of an anti-personnel mine. Like the kind we seeded throughout Nam, Korea and Germany. Nasty stuff. This psycho meant business." Clutch pointed to the tip. "The first time you contacted this trigger. . .well, there's enough explosive in here to make sure you two died a gruesome death."

"Shit," Hoss breathed.

"That's not all. There was a three-day failsafe. If the bomb didn't detonate within that period, they had the device rigged to dispense lethal doses of a toxin into the blood stream."

"What?" Stealth and Viper hissed together.

"That's why he was so sick. If the bomb didn't kill both of you, the poison would kill Justin."

"Who would want to hurt C.D.?" Hoss said quietly.

"I don't think the target was Justin," Viper told him. "This was for me. Someone who wanted the maximum hurt put on me."

"That 'some' could be one of a long list of people," Stealth told him unnecessarily. "And we don't know where to start."

~~~~~~

On the seemingly endless ride from the station, all the Sentinel could see was a pair of brilliantly blue eyes watching him, or a dazzlingly but impish smile brightening his day. The only thing missing was the voice that soothed his senses and the presence of the man he loved, his anchor and his bridge.

When Detective Ellison arrived at Rainier, the bomb squad had just finished cleaning up. Automatically, Jim started cataloguing the different sights, sounds and scents in the area. Mentally filing away suspicious smells, discarding others, searching for the 'one' scent that was his salvation.

"Was anybody hurt?" he asked the nearest officer.

"The site was deserted except for two people. They're over with the ambulance."

Jim raced in the direction she had pointed and found his partner sitting in the back of the vehicle. On his way over to the vehicle, the Sentinel found himself instinctively checking his lover's heart rhythms even before he got near. A little fast, but that was to be expected.

"Blair," he said softly.

His Guide looked up at the sound of his name. "Jim. Hey, big guy," he said smiling.

Jim touched the bruise on his lover's face with cautious fingers. "What happened?"

"You family?" one of the attendants asked.

"Yeah, you could say that," Jim said distractedly as he used his sense of touch to scan his Guide's injuries.

"Would you see if you can get him to go to the hospital?"

Jim stepped up into the interior of the vehicle. "Why?" he asked as he probed deeper.

"I told them I was fine," Blair protested weakly, his heart rate rocketing.

"We'd like to take some x-rays. He hit that wall pretty hard."

Jim knew Blair was in pain, he could see it in his eyes, hear it in his breathing. "You were in there, Chief?"

His Guide pulled a face. "Obviously not in the room, Jim. Kei and I were at the opposite end of the hall." His hands became animated as he recounted the incident. "It's so awesome, man! I thought I heard a dog--"

"A. . .dog?"

"Yeah. Hurt. We were following the sound outside. If it hadn't been for that---" Blair's voice trailed off as his excited gestures caused him to wince.

"We're going to the hospital," Jim told him in that 'I protect the tribe' voice.

"But, Jim--" Blair stopped at the look his lover gave him. "It was only a bump on the head," he protested ardently.

"Tell me you don't hurt," his lover challenged as he climbed up in the back of the ambulance.

"It's not anything I can't manage," Blair groused as he settled back on the gurney. "You're overreacting."

"Yeah? So sue me, teach."

~~~~~~

"Viper?"

The big man turned from staring through the glass surrounding Justin's room to find Dr. Madueke walking towards him.

"I had a feeling you'd be here."

"How is he, doc?"

"When he tried to force that. . .thing out, there was some internal tearing. We repaired that. I flushed all the toxins from his system. He'll be on an I.V. drip for a while. Another day and we'd have been too late," the man said uncomfortably.

The Marine tightened his hands into fists. "Is he going to be all right?"

"All my tests show no permanent damage. . .brain scan's clear, heart, respiration, lungs, all normal. He's going to be a very sick young man for a few days, but he should make a full recovery."

"Can I see him?"

The doctor frowned. "I don't suppose I could keep you out of there if I tried."

"I don't think so."

Dr. Madueke smiled. "Not too long. Okay?"

The Marine nodded once. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Choate stepped into the sterile, white room. He wished the Estate would put some color in them. Justin would like color. Some pictures on the wall, a rug, flowers in a vase, something to make it less. . .stark.

Justin was lying on his side in the bed in the center of the room. Monitors surrounding it beeped softly, the I.V. suspended on a 'tree' behind him. Choate lowered the side rail and sat down. He touched his fingertips to his lover's lips.

"Dulce."

The eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened. "Paddy?"

"Sí, amor."

The Marine had to lean in closer to hear the faint question. "Where am I?"

"At the Estate."

"How did I get here?"

"Aces and I brought you."

Justin frowned, trying to remember.

Choate smoothed the wrinkles away with his fingertips.

"Ssst," the younger man said as he tried to sit up, "my bottom hurts."

His lover chuckled. "I suppose it does."

"What happened?"

"We don't know, dulce. I hoped you could tell me."

Justin shook his head. "I remember the bathroom. I had to go."

"You remember before then?"

Justin shook his head once more, his eyes drifting shut only to open again. "You won't leave me--" he asked fearfully.

Choate brushed stray strands of hair from Justin's face. "No, amor."

"Here." Justin patted the mattress feebly. "Here with me, Paddy."

The big man shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you, chiquito."

Great, green eyes, clouded with pain and drugs, turned full force on him. "Hurts less when you hold me," he whispered.

"Justin--"

Moaning at the pain, the small figure started to turn to his side away from his Marine.

"Mierda!" Choate raced to help him, bracing him with his hands so he didn't have to use his own muscles. "What are you doing?!"

"Making room--" he panted, "--your side."

"Little boy," Choate growled as he slipped off his shoes and crawled up onto the high bed to slide behind his young lover. "We are going to have a serious talk about this stubborn streak you're developing."

Justin took the Chief Aide's arm draped over him and used it to pull him closer, hissing as his bottom contacted Choate's groin. "Love you," he whispered.

Choate rolled Justin forward on his stomach and his gown parting in the back to reveal a very raw and bruised bottom.

"Malditos sean! Cuando averigue quienes hicieron esto, los mataré con mis propias manos. Lo juro, mi amor. . .lo juro," Choate said through clenched teeth as his blood ran hot.

"Paddy," Justin whimpered, barely conscious, but feeling his lover's anger even as sleep tried to claim him.

At seeing the distress it caused the big man reined in his anger. "Shhh, dulce. It's all right." He leaned down and kissed the flare of hip that wasn't bruised as badly.

Snaring a small pillow from the side of the bed, he placed it between Justin's bottom and his groin and rolled the small form back against his chest, curling his body around it.

As soon as he was certain his lover slept, Patrick Choate placed his face in the soft, warm niche between Justin's shoulder and his neck and did something he hadn't done in more years than he could remember.

He cried.

~~~~~

"But, why would someone want to blow up my office?" Blair asked as Jim helped him through the door of the loft.

"The official report is a boiler in the basement directly under your office was the cause of the explosion," The Sentinel growled, tossing his keys in the basket before helping his partner to the couch.

Blair looked up as soon as he settled into the cushions. "But--?"

Ellison picked up the phone and began to dial. "But, while they were sliding you back and forth through that metal coffin, I had Joel run me back to the bombsite."

The Guide watched his Sentinel with interest. "And--?" he prompted.

"And, I need to talk to Choate," he growled as he began pacing the room, waiting for the chief aide to answer.

"Why?"

"I have a feeling--"

Visually, Blair tracked Jim's prowling about the room. "Is it a 'Sentinel' feeling, or a 'cop' feeling?"

"Both," Jim said as Choate's service came online. "This is Detective James Ellison of the CPD, will you have Patrick Choate return my call as soon as possible. Tell him it's urgent. Thank you."

"Then it's bad?"

"Very bad," he said as he closed the phone.

~~~

"Ow, ow, ow. Shit."

Choate turned over, awakened by the softly whispered words. "Justin?"

Justin's 'deer in the headlights' look was priceless.

"What are you doing?" the Marine asked as he sat up.

Guilty and trapped, his lover confessed, "Bathroom."

"Why?" the Marine asked matter-of-factly.

The younger man couldn't believe his ears. "What?"

"You need to go to the bathroom." Choate repeated patiently, "why?"

Evers smirked at his lover. Paddy was delirious if he thought he was going to dignify that idiotic question with an answer.

Choate raised an eyebrow and waited with exaggerated tolerance.

"I have to pee, okay?" Justin finally said, face red, voice tingled with exasperation.

Choate leaned over the side of the bed. "There's a bedpan--"

"No!" Justin squeaked horrified.

The big man straightened, swinging his legs from the bed. "Then, let me help you--"

"I can go to the--"

Justin's sentence ended in a sigh as he found himself cradled in strong arms.

"Get the I.V." Choate ordered gruffly.

And Justin barely had time to snag the 'tree' before he found himself being carried to the bathroom. "Don't like Marines, Paddy," he grumbled, laying his head on the wide chest.

When Choate stood his lover on his feet, Justin listed dangerously off balance. The Marine slid up behind him to steady him, lifting the gown out of the way.

"Here," he said as he took Justin's penis in his hand and pointed it to the center of the bowl. "Let me help."

Young Evers squirmed, trying to free himself from the warm grip, bowing his head in shame. "Aww, Paddy."

Choate kissed the exposed neck. "Pee, little boy. This isn't the time for modesty. I've seen it before, you know. Had my hands on it, too."

Justin sighed heavily again. There was no use in arguing, he knew Choate would keep them there until he finished. Slowly, the smaller man forced himself to relax, leaning back against the broad surface behind him and released a stream of golden liquid into the water.

Finally finished, he turned around. "Do you think they'd let me take a shower?"

"I don't know, little boy--" the Marine said as he leaned over to flush and wash his hands.

"Would you ask?" he cajoled.

"Oh, there you are," Dr. Madueke said, as he strode into the room. "I thought you'd gone missing."

"We're fine, doc," Choate said, drying his hands on a towel.

"Sleep well?" the short man asked Justin.

Who frowned before answering, "Yes."

"The water pass without pain?"

And blushed. "Yes, fine."

"We don't expect you to feel the need to void until tomorrow, that's all well and good since you're likely to be quite tender for a while. I'll send a stool softener and--"

"Can I take a shower?" Justin interrupted, too embarrassed to want the man to go on any more about his bodily functions.

The doctor checked his chart. "We can send someone in and give you a sponge bath."

"No. Please, a real shower. And I'd like to wash my hair."

The doctor hesitated, ready to say no.

"I'll help him, doc," Choate offered as he put a steadying arm around the smaller figure at his side.

"Well, as long as you make it a brief one. Now, here. I want to check, make sure everything is all right."

Justin turned in his Marine's arms until he faced the doctor. "I feel fine."

"Let the doctor do his work, Justin," Choate said gently.

Young Evers shook his head as he began pulling away.

Choate tightened his grip. "He has to, Justin."

The stubborn, mulish expression hardened his features. "No!"

The Marine turned him and took the small face between his hands. "What if I help?"

Before the young man could repeat his refusal, Choate once again swept him into his arms. Justin grabbed frantically for the I.V. as he was carried back into the main room.

Sitting on the bed, he drew Justin up and across his lap. The gown parted all the way down the middle.

Justin whimpered and clutched desperately at his lover's leg as Choate rubbed soothing circles on his back.

"Hurry, doc," the big man said quietly.

Dr. Madueke pulled on a pair of latex gloves and lubed a finger. Placing a hand on the small of Justin's back, the doctor probed. And the grip on Choate's leg tightened.

After several minutes, the doctor straightened and pulled off the glove. "That's fine." He looked up at Choate. "I shouldn't have to do that again."

The big man nodded once and the doctor made a hasty retreat. After Dr. Madueke's departure, Justin's resolve collapsed. The Marine took his lover in his arms and held him until the tears stopped, swearing once again he'd kill whoever had done this to Justin.

~~~

After dinner, Ellison and Sandburg settled into their prospective corners of the livingroom. Jim in front of the TV to watch a game and Blair on the chair, typing on his laptop.

After about an hour, Blair shifted infinitesimally and Jim looked up.

"What?" he asked.

Blair looked up guiltily, but asked, "What, what?" Before the Sentinel could formula a response, the Guide asked, "Did you get in touch with Choate?"

"No."

"Maybe you should try him again," Blair said as he squirmed slightly under his mate's gaze.

Not falling for the distraction, Jim asked, "Did you take your pill?"

The hands that had stilled at his Sentinel's question, began to type again. "Naw, man, they, like, make me so sleepy."

Without another word, the Sentinel got up and went into the kitchen to retrieve the necessary items.

Standing in front of his young lover, he held out the glass of juice and the caplets.

"Umm, Jim--"

"Here," Ellison said sternly as he shoved his hand under a bespectacled nose. "Then we'll go upstairs and I'll tuck you in."

Blair reluctantly took the tablets, quickly tossing them into his mouth. Taking the glass, he washed them down.

"You know, there's a lot to be said for the alpha male," he said as Jim helped him to his feet.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Most of it's bad." Blair headed up the stairs.

Jim laughed. "I didn't hear any complaints about my 'alpha male' this morning," he said, one hand caressing the swaying ass in front of his face. "As I remember, you seemed highly appreciative about my being an 'alpha male'."

"I was? I don't remember. . .ow!" Blair jumped, turning to stare down at his mate in disbelief as he rubbed the injured area. "You bit me! Jim, no fair! That hurt!"

Jim smiled up at his love, and growled.

~~~

In the shower, young Evers seemed most interested in getting his hair clean, so Choate concentrated on working the shampoo through the sheared locks in slow, long strokes, letting the soap trail down the golden body in his hands. He followed the slick trail of the lather down Justin's torso using it to get him clean.

By the time it was over, young Evers was nearly asleep on his feet.

The Marine braced him against the wall while he slipped into one of the large robes hanging behind the door. Wrapping the small figure in a large towel, he carried Justin back to the bed to dry him off.

Just as he had a sleeping Justin tucked once again under the covers, the door slid open and a nurse appeared with a tray. "Dr. Madueke wanted the patient to try a little broth. He also had dinner sent for you." She placed the tray on a table by the bed.

"Thank you," Choate told her as she slipped out the door.

Taking a large tooth comb from a drawer in the nightstand, Choate lifted Justin and slid behind his sleeping form. Slowly, the big Marine began to comb through the tangles in Justin's hair.

Finally, when he had it snarl-free, gathering the damp mass in both hands, the Marine quickly twisted it into a tight braid, securing the end with a rubber band from the food tray.

"Querido," he called softly, "you need to eat."

Justin grumbled, "G'way," but his eyes remained closed.

"A little soup," he said in a coaxing voice, "and then I'll leave you alone. Come on."

A sleepy eye opened slightly as did the full lips beneath it.

The Marine snorted at his lover's antics, then tipped the spoon between the lips and watched Justin swallow.

"Good?"

"I can think of something better, with a lot more protein," Justin whispered, both eyes closed once again.

Choate, caught in the act of raising another dipper of soup from the bowl, almost dropped the spoon. He smiled. "Brat," he said affectionately.

Justin smiled slightly at him before opening his mouth again.

~~~~~~

Squadron Leader stood next to Cook, holding his gun in her hands. The poor man stood restrained by the two agents who'd disarmed him. No matter how large or powerful his weapon, no matter his own determination, one man had proven no match for an entire platoon.

"Let me go," he demanded angrily.

She shook her head. "We're taking you back with us."

Cook renewed his struggles. "No! I'm not leaving here!"

"It's done." She signalled for her men to gather their things and return to the helicopter.

Cook dug his heels into the dirt as they began pulling him along towards the van. "No! I'm not leaving until I at least find his body!"

"We have our orders from Prime, Cook. We have to break off and return to base."

Cook froze. "Prime? Brown is Prime."

She shook her head again. "This was from someone called Stone."

"They put somebody else in charge?" the young man screamed. "We haven't even found a body and they replaced him?" Snarling like a wild animal, the smaller man drove his sharp elbow into the solar plexus of one captor and savaged the instep of another. Caught by surprise, the two agents momentarily loosened their hold just enough for Cook to break free. He raced towards the treeline.

Squadron leader held up her hand. "Damn fool. Let him go. We've got to get back to base."

~~~~~~

The Sentinel picked up the phone before coming fully awake. "Ellison!" he barked.

"Sorry, Jim, but Simon needs you to come to a crime scene."

Groaning, he looked down into Blair's questioning gaze. "I'll be there in twenty," he said, and hung up.

"What was that all about?" Blair asked as Jim rose from the bed.

"I don't know." He leaned back and kissed his bedmate. "Gotta go. You go back to sleep. I'll call you later."

~~~

When Detective Ellison arrived on the scene, the first person he encountered was Rafe leaning against the dumpster, his complexion an ashy-grey.

"Rafe ? What's the matter? You look like Sandburg after he's seen a body."

The detective looked up sharply. "Is Hairboy with you?" he asked anxiously.

The Sentinel raised an eyebrow at his tone. "No," he said carefully, "I left him at the loft. Why?"

Rafe looked back towards the crime scene. "I've seen bad, Jim, but this goes beyond bad. The person who did this is seriously sick."

Jim scented fear and disgust on his fellow officer, but just as he started to ask for specifics, they heard--

"Ellison!"

The Sentinel looked up to find his captain motioning him to come closer. As he moved closer, the scent of blood and feces rose to his nostrils, its stench threatening to overpower him. And, something else. . .but he couldn't put a finger on what it was. All Ellison knew was a familiar smell that gave him an uncomfortable feeling filtered out to him making him uneasy. Reaching out, he deepened his sensory search trying to identify what it was.

Nearly slipping into a zone, Jim quickly tramped down on his senses to compensate.

As he neared, at first the detective had the fleeting impression of a mannequin lying in the grass, its limbs and head placed at an odd angle. That observation challenged by the smells in the air. A chill gripped Ellison as he came closer. By the time the Sentinel had reached his captain's side, he saw it was indeed a body, that of a young male.

Bile rose in his throat. "Sweet Mother of--" Jim placed his hand over his face and turned away trying desperately to erase the vision of that poor human being broken and cast aside like a forgotten child's toy. And, nagging at the corner of his mind, like the familiar scent, was the feeling that he'd seen the victim before, or that he reminded him of someone--

"The ME's on her way," Simon was saying. "But I doubt she'll find anything. There's no question there was sexual assault." The captain paused. "And mutilation."

Then, in a flash of clarity, Jim identified the elusive, underlying scent and why the body seemed so familiar. "When she gets here, have her check the tail of the shirt, Simon. There'll be traces of semen there." The Sentinel turned away drawing deep, steadying breaths to ease his pounding heart. "And, I'm sure if she checks the body, she'll find a message somewhere." He started walking away.

"Ellison, where do you think you're going?"

Fear, dark and suffocating, threatened to overwhelm him. He had to get away. "To track down a lead," he said over his shoulder as he raced to the truck.

~~~

Back at The Estate, Hoss and Aces had their leader cornered, trying to talk some sense into him.

"Where're you gonna start, Viper?" Aces asked him.

Ignoring his pilot's question, Choate growled at his guard blocking the door, "Get out of my way, Hoss."

"Aces is right," Hoss said, not moving an inch. "You need to stay here."

"I'll hurt you," he warned, his voice low, full of anger and pain.

"What about Justin?" Aces asked, still trying to reason with him.

"That's right, Viper," Hoss said anxiously. "What if he wakes up and finds you gone? You know how C.D. is."

"I'll have Dr. Madueke give him something to keep him under."

"That's not fair, Viper," his pilot told him. "He needs you here with him."

"That's right, man, don't leave him all alone. He's been through enough as it is," Hoss said.

The big Marine's shoulders slowly slumped.

Hoss reached out and gave one a squeeze. "Don't worry, boss. It'll be all right."

"Viper?"

All three men looked up at the disembodied voice.

"Chips?"

"Sorry to bother you, Viper, but there's someone giving the code name 'Jaguar' on the comm."

"Jaguar?"

"I searched records. We don't have any active agent with that call name at the moment. And it's coming over a multi-level frequency."

"What are you doing on comm?"

"The search team just came back, sans Cook."

"What happened?"

"Team Leader had orders to call a halt. He objected. She insisted. He went renegade. We're waiting for second shift to take over early."

Three men exchanged stunned looks. "Renegade?"

"You know this Jaguar?" the young computer tech asked insistently.

"Yeah, put him through," the agent finally told him.

Ellison's angry voice said, "Viper."

"Jaguar," Choate said with a tiny smile.

"We need to talk."

"Something wrong?"

"You're damned right, something's wrong. He's back."

"Who's back?"

"Hunter. And he sent you a message you need to see."

~~~

Viper stood by the doorway of the loft and watched the drama in the living room unfold. Arms crossed loosely against his chest, his lips turned up in a slight smile as he wondered if he and Justin looked like that when they were having a 'discussion'.

"I am not going into hiding, Detective Ellison," Blair said stubbornly, as he threw his course material into his backpack.

Jim circled his lover, his arms outstretched, hands held wide in a helpless gesture. "This man is crazy, babe! I've seen what he can do."

"I'm not letting him disrupt my life," Sandburg said firmly.

"He's already disrupted it, Professor," Viper interjected softly.

Blair turned to the agent.

Choate told him quietly, "I've a feeling that incident at the university wasn't an accident."

Blair slowly digested that bit of information before easing down to sit on the arm of the couch. "You think he's trying to hurt me?"

The big Marine shook his head. "I think he's trying to kill you."

"Why?" the young man whispered as his sight turned inward.

"Because he's crazy, Sandburg," Jim said impatiently.

Blair blinked, focusing on his Sentinel. "But what about my classes?"

"It's taken care of," Choate told him.

Sandburg glanced at him, then back to his lover. "And what about you, big guy?"

Jim squeezed the smaller man's shoulder. "I'll be with Choate."

"And why am I not comforted by this?" he sighed resolutely.

"It wasn't my idea," Choate told him as he held his hands up in submission. "But short of tranquing him, there was nothing I could do."

Blair frowned. "I don't like being forced to the sidelines, Jim," he said sternly.

"I'm not forcing you, Chief. You're still a key player in this."

"As what, nursemaid?" Blair scoffed.

Choate stepped farther into the room. "I don't want him to be alone, Professor," he said solemnly.

The Guide's resistance started to crack. "And no one else can do this but me?"

"No one I'd trust him with besides my team, and my team'll be with me." Choate regarded the smaller man a moment, plotting his next move. Finally, the big Marine said, "Please," in a muted tone, soft brown eyes locking with sky blue ones.

Blair groaned, rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb. "All right, okay! Turn off the Bambi-eyes. You're killing me, here." He rose to his feet. "But, I'm telling you, you and Jim are going to owe me big time on this." He emphasized that statement with a stab of his index finger. "And I do mean 'big time'."

It only took Blair fifteen minutes to gather up his things and stuff them into a bag. Then it only took his lover a few minutes more to spirit him up the stairs and into the hall. A few minutes more to stuff him into the small 'copter waiting for them on the roof.

"Call me?" Sandburg asked after he'd settled inside the cockpit.

"Yes." Jim kissed him very soundly before pulling the door closed.

Both men watched until the copter flew out of even the Sentinel's sight.

"Now what?" Jim asked, turning to his temporary partner.

Jim's cell phone interrupted Choate's answer.

The detective opened it with a flick of his wrist. "Ellison," he barked.

"Jim, it's Dan."

"Dan. What did you find?"

"You were right. I found minute traces of semen on the tail of his shirt."

"And the message?"

"Carved into the small of his back. It looks like: 11KGS QQLZQO. It's gibberish to me, Jim."

Jim motioned to Choate for a pencil and paper, which the older man produced from his jacket pocket and handed over. The detective quickly wrote it down. "I'll get back to you, Dan," he said, then closed the phone.

"What?" the Marine asked impatiently.

"We had a homicide this morning. A group of transients found the body of a man in a landfill. He had been brutalized both physically and sexually." The Sentinel paused. "And he looked remarkably like Justin." Jim waited for a reaction. There was nothing. The agent watched the detective patiently until he showed Choate the pad. "This was carved into his back."

Choate took the tablet back with an unsteady hand and looked at it. After a moment, he shook his head. "This means nothing."

"That's what Dan said."

Glancing up at his companion, Choate shook his head again. "Flesh isn't the best surface to write on, Ellison. Especially if it's moving."

Jim blinked. "You're saying the perp carved this while his victim was still alive?"

The Marine looked back down at the piece of paper. "Yes," he said distractedly.

Ellison shuddered, his features settling into a deep frown. "Do you think the first part is a weight or measurement?"

"No," Choate answered without looking up.

The Sentinel made an impatient sound. "Then what do you think it is?"

"A Bible passage," the Marine answered in the same distracted voice.

Totally confused, Jim asked, "What?"

Glancing up into the detective's face, Choate explained. "A passage from the Bible. Second book of Kings, to be exact." He pointed. "This isn't an 11 it's the Roman numeral two, and KGS isn't kilograms, it's the abbreviation for Kings."

Jim's lips tightened into a straight line. "I don't have the Bible memorized, Choate, but even I know there's no chapter QQ."

"Chapter 22," the Marine corrected quietly, "and just like the message you found on Rue, your Coroner thinks Hunter's ones look like 'L's." He paused. "And maybe the 'Z' is. . .a seven?"

"So, we have, what, chapter 22, verse 17?"

"Through 20."

"And that would be?"

Choate looked up into the detective's eyes a moment before quoting, "Because they have forsaken me, and have burned incense unto other gods, that they might provoke me to anger with all the works of their hands; therefore my wrath shall be kindled against this place, and shall not be quenched." Then something changed in the chocolate brown depths of the Marine's gaze.

Ellison did not like what he saw. "But what does it mean?"

"Anger of Biblical proportions."

~~~

Standing shakily, using his bed for support, Justin looked up as the door to his infirmary room opened. "Pad-- Blair? What're you doing here?"

"Hey, J.C." Blair said, smiling brightly as he breezed into the room. "Thought you could use a fresh face."

Justin eased himself onto the bed on one hip. "Does law enforcement know you're here?"

He tossed his bookbag in the corner by the door. "Is that any way to greet someone who's come to cheer you up?"

Justin watched Blair carefully for a moment. "They're together, aren't they? They sent you here because there's some kind of danger, isn't there?" Sliding back to his feet, Justin reached for his clothes.

"What're you doing?"

"Going after them."

"How?" the younger man demanded anxiously as he ran his fingers through his hair. "You don't have any idea where they are."

Just then they heard a muffled 'chirping'.

Blair dug into his jacket pocket and extracted his cell phone. "It's not mine."

Looking puzzled, Justin turned and walked to the closet, rumbling through the pockets of his clothes until he found his phone. "It's mine." He flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Justin! Damn! I'm so glad I got you."

"Who is this?"

"I don't have much time," the voice said in a rush. "They're probably monitoring. Can you come get me?"

"Who is this?" Evers repeated as he shrugged in answer to Blair's questioning gaze.

"Jon."

Justin paused a moment. "Jon?" he said not recognizing the name.

"Jonathan Usher. Remember? Brown's friend."

He frowned. "Why are you calling me? Where are you?"

"I'm near the bridge. The one Winn fell from," he said in a rush. "They've given up on him, man. They've even sent a replacement to the Estate for him." Now the man's voice edged toward hysteria. "He's not dead! I know he's not. If he were, I would feel it." Jon paused, taking a moment to calm down. "Come get me, Justin," he demanded in a more reasonable voice. "We'll look for him together."

Evers closed his eyes. "Jon, I can't."

The voice became animated again. "Why? Because we got off on the wrong foot? If anyone would help me, I thought it'd been you! You understand how I feel!"

"I didn't say I didn't want to, Jon. I said I can't. Paddy has me locked away in your Estate facility. Blair's here, too."

"Dammit! Dammit! DAMMIT! I got to get you two out of there! I can't do this all alone. Think, Usher! Think. Okay, give me a minute. I'll call you right back."

"Was that who I think?" Blair said as Justin closed the cell phone.

"Yes, and he might be our ticket out of here."

~~~~~~

Memories taken from the dark place, like objects from a toychest, helped soothe the sharp burn of fury that sliced through him.

He held the large knife in both hands, point embedded in the floor, turning it this way and that, watching the light play off the blade, emphasizing the bright stains of blood there.

Remembering, he drew a deep breath, reliving the feel of its point as it glided through warm flesh, slicing the soft skin and moist tissue with no effort. Ah, the feel of blood, hot and slick, running over his hands, down his body, warming it. And the screaming, the cries for mercy. Begging. Pleading. The look of hopelessness in the eyes the second they knew they would surely die bringing with it a rush of power so great it made him feel. . .invincible!

All this helped to ease the fury he felt at the failed mission. Helped bank the heated wave of emotions that broke over him, threatening to drown him. But it had been a poor substitute for what he really wanted. It was not enough to extinguish the flames, only cool them.

The taste of failure rose like bitter bile in the back of his throat. He should have killed Viper's little cunt when he had him in his hands. Cut him. Burned him. At the very least, raped him. Something!

Instead he had listened to the others. What did they know of the fine art of torture? Viper would have broken easy if they'd thrown the ravaged body of his toy at his feet, then walked away.

Remembering. . .Mmmm, the things he could've done with that bundle of succulent flesh. He groaned silently. It had been soft, like butter, and smooth, like velvet. A prize. He'd wanted to take the cock for a souvenir, or a ball. Something!

And that ass. So, sweet! So tight that, even with the Vaseline, he'd had to force the bomb up into him. And the way that pucker had closed around his finger as he probed before insertion. . . he growled at the memory. He'd almost fucked him right there, right then. But they'd become agitated, and he needed them for now. . .but, later, when their usefulness ended. . .Damn them!

He stabbed at the floor viciously. They had even denied him play. . .and he always played with his victims. They had rushed him, driving him to finish quickly. They had caused him to make a mistake somewhere.

Drawing the sharp point across the hardwood floor, he left a deep grove. With an animalistic growl, he drove it in again, leaving another scar, then again, ravaging the fine floor's finish as he had wanted to ravage that beautiful young boy-toy he had been forced to release unharmed. . .as he had ravaged the ringer they'd found later to pacify him.

Why had he listened to them? Let them help him when he had always worked alone in the past. Because of their bumbling, the mission failed. Damn them! Damn them all! He swore never to listen to them again. From now on, they would do it his way, by his terms, or they would die one by one, starting with the cripple. Yes. He would be the first one on his list because he had known the enemy intimately before.

He would never work with anyone else again.

Crouching, naked in the corner of the elegant room, digging the knife into the floor again, the man was unaware he'd carved the name, 'Winn' into the wood in the center of a crudely shaped heart.

Silently, from the windows overlooking the garden, two of his benefactors watched in terror - cursing the bargain they'd made with the devil. Frantically looking for a way to escape, where there was none. Waiting for the monster to break free of his confines and destroy them all.

~~~~~~

The cell phone 'chirped' again.

Justin snatched it open at the first sound. "Yes?" he whispered.

"Get dressed. I've gotten someone to doctor the film in the surveillance cameras. Give her ten minutes to record a continuous loop of you and Blair in the room, then you two slip out. Stand in the shadows at the southwest corner of the hall and wait for a guy pushing a large stock bin to come by. When he stops, get in it without being seen and he'll take you to a transport leaving the facility. From there you'll be taken to a site about ten miles from my location. You'll have to get a ride from there. Don't let anybody see you," Jon repeated urgently. "And hurry. Leave that earring, Justin. Viper's people find out you're loose and we're history."

"Why not just call Hoss and ask for help in finding Brown?"

"I'm renegade right now. They'd come get me and we'd all be sitting in a room at the Estate. Hurry! We don't have a lot of time." There was a pause. "You guys leave the phones, in case they can trace them. Once you reach the town, head northwest on the main road. I'll be waiting. Hurry!"

And the line went dead.

"What are you doing?" Blair asked Justin when he'd laid down the phone.

Young Evers slid gingerly from the bed. "We can't just leave him out there," he said, pulling his clothes from the hangers.

"But what about the perp our guys are chasing?"

Justin slipped from the gown. "My guess is he'll be too busy trying to elude capture from Paddy and Law Enforcement to worry about us."

~~~

A little over two hours later, a hot and tired duo watched from the shadow of a building as the truck they'd stowed away on drove off down the road.

"Now what?" Blair asked, looking around at their surroundings.

Justin turned to regard his companion. "You ask like I'm the leader," he said in exasperation. "When did I get to be the leader?"

"This is your adventure," Blair told him with a half-smile.

"And you are, what? A tourist?"

"On the joy ride of a lifetime."

"Yeah, big tough Justin dragged you along against your will." Evers snorted. "You're getting me back about that thing with the boat, aren't you?" He glared at his companion. "Okay, all right! We find wheels and we head northwest like Jon said."

"What if we can't find Jon?"

"I hear Canada's really nice," Justin said sarcastically. "You can get a job teaching at one of the universities." He heading off down the road. "We'll rent a tiny apartment on the top floor of a warehouse with good lighting so I can paint. You'd have to do most of the cooking, but I guess I can handle everything else. Things'll be tight for a while, but we'll manage. . ."

Blair watched him walking away, babbling nonsense. "Are you serious?" he had to ask.

Justin stopped walking long enough to turn around and say, "Come on, Professor. My meds'll be wearing off soon and I'd like to be on my way back before then." He started back down the road.

Blair hesitated for a second before following reluctantly behind his friend.

They had only gone a few miles when they found a rough-looking bar emitting extremely loud music. There were several motorcycles parked outside on the gravel parking lot.

Justin inspected several briefly before stopping to touch one of them reverently. "This is nice. Not as fancy as mine, but nice."

"Justin--" Blair said, fear in his voice. "What's going through your head?"

The smaller man ignored the question as he leaned over the seat. "Can you hot wire a hog?"

"Can I what?"

"I've done a care once in my misspent youth."

"So have I, but--"

"You think it hot wires the same?"

"How should I know."

"Give me your knife and watch the door!" he hissed back over his shoulder.

"What?! What are you doing, man?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Justin, we need a car."

Evers glanced back. "Do you see a car?"

"No, but if we keep walking, maybe we'll find one."

"In this town?"

"Or maybe a truck."

"Take a good look, Professor, what do you see?"

Blair scanned the area. "The streets are deserted, but--"

"But, if you keep talking some 'Smokey and the Bandit' sheriff'll be by. Give me the damned knife and watch the door!"

Reluctantly, Blair handed Justin his Swiss army knife.

The small round hips bounced and jiggled as Justin did something out of Blair's range of vision. Seconds later, the cycle's engine roared to life.

"You did it!" Blair said, wide-eyed with surprise then sobered. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Come on!" Justin ordered as he swung his leg over the motorcycle and gingerly sat down, wincing as he tried to settle into the hard seat. He waited, watching as Blair glanced nervously around. "You better come on, before somebody sees us."

Reluctantly, the younger man hopped on behind him and held on for dear life. Justin kicked the 'hog' into gear and roared off into the night.

~~~

Blair had just begun to accept the fact that this whole thing might be a bad idea when they saw Jon standing on the side of the road.

Pulling up next to him, Justin turned off the engine and painfully slid to his feet.

"A motorcycle?" the young agent said in dismay. "How are we supposed to carry Winn back on a motorcycle?!"

"You've found him?" Blair asked.

"No," Jon confessed reluctantly.

Justin straightened and stiffly began walking the cycle to the concealing bushes around them. "Then shut the fuck up," he snapped irritably. "We did the best we could. There wasn't an Avis rent-an-EMT in town." Causing both men to blink at him in surprise.

~~~

After thirty minutes of walking, Jon called a halt. "Rescue stopped looking right there." He turned back to his small group.

Justin's color had all but faded. "Let's get this over with," he said, a bit breathless.

Coming up behind the smaller man, Blair asked, "Justin, are you all right?"

"No. Now let's get started so we can find him."

Blair touched the smaller man on the shoulder. "You need to rest first."

"I don't need to rest," Justin snapped, shrugging away from the hand, the motion causing him to stumble.

Blair caught him. "Rest anyway. Ten minutes, Justin, then we start to look."

Justin thought about arguing further, then wisely decided against it. Reluctantly, he allowed Sandburg to help him ease down onto the grass.

"All right, ten minutes," he said wearily as he leaned back against a tree.

"What?" Jon squawked. "No, you can't rest! Every minute he's in that water he's a minute closer to death."

"Ten minutes won't hurt anything, Jon," Blair said, as he helped Justin ease down onto a grassy patch on the ground.

"You don't know that!" he nearly screamed.

"And neither do you!" Blair screamed back. "I know you're worried about Brown, but stop being such a pain in the ass. Can't you see Justin doesn't feel well?"

Cook eyed the smaller man. Justin's color wasn't good, and he was sweating, but to acknowledge the young man was ill would jeopardize the search. Jon wasn't ready to do that.

"Ten minutes, all right! But just ten!" he grumbled, stalking a few feet away.

~~

"All right!" Jon hissed. "It's been ten minutes! Let's go!"

Blair frowned at the impatient young agent, but went to help Justin to his feet. "You don't look so good, man," he told young Evers.

"Then I look like I feel." Justin staggered a few steps before righting himself.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

Justin smiled as they began following Cook, who was several feet ahead of them. "I have a feeling this is the best my bottom is going to feel for a long time."

~~

An hour later, a pain lanced through Justin, catching him by surprise and bringing him to his knees with a gasp. Losing his balance, he slid on the muddy embankment and landed in the river.

"Justin!" Blair screamed and, without hesitation, dove in after him.

Jon followed their progress from the bank.

Blair caught up to the half-conscious Justin in the swiftly moving current and wrapped his legs and an arm around him to keep them from separating, the other arm he used to try to reach something to stop them.

The current took them a few more feet down the river before Blair's outstretched hands could snag a protruding tree root to anchor them. White water slapped them both in the face, threatening to take their breath away. It seemed like hours before Jon climbed up on the trunk of the downed tree Blair clung to and crawled out to them.

"Hand him to me," Usher yelled over the river's noise.

Slowly, Blair strained, turning so he could maneuver the limp body of Justin within Jon's reach. Together, they got him up and over the embankment so Jon could drag him to solid ground. Then the young agent went back to help Blair. This time, as the young man turned to lever himself up into Jon's arms, he heard a soft groan. Looking closely at the bank, Blair found himself face-to-face with a bog creature embedded in the muddy ledge.

Blair screamed, nearly losing his grip on the root.

"What?" Jon leaned down to see what had upset the young man. "Winn!"

"Oh, shit!" Blair screamed. "Oh, damn!"

"Is he alive, Blair?"

"Shit!"

"Is he alive?!" Jon screamed.

Slowly and reluctantly, Blair reached out with his free hand to touch the carotid artery in the mudman's neck.

"Is he alive?!"

"Will you shut up a minute?" Blair snapped over the roar of the river. In the silence that followed, he 'listened' with his fingers. Faintly, almost imperceptible, Blair found the pulse. "Yes. Barely."

"Well, hand him up! What are you waiting for?!! That water's freezing!"

"You're kidding!" came Blair's scathing reply. "It's not like I'm in it up to my neck."

Straining, both men pushed and pulled until they finally got the big, limp body of Winston Dupris on shore. As soon as he could get a good grip, Cook pulled him out of the water, dragging him until he could lay him next to Justin.

Jon immediately fell upon his lover, stroking his face. "Winn," he whispered. "Can you hear me?" His voice broke. "I knew you weren't dead. Winn, please!" Scraping the thickly caked-on muck from his lover's face, Jon gently, but thoroughly, checked for injuries.

Brown felt movement and immediately panicked, knowing that somehow he'd come loose from his safe mooring in the river bank and would be punished against the rocks and debris of the water again. Weakly, he began to struggle to hold onto something.

Amid his struggles, the older man dimly became aware of the voice above him, the small hands trying to pound his chest in. Coughing up water, Winn wondered if he was in heaven. If so, why was he still so cold, and why did the angel hovering over him sound so much like Jon?

Exerting mighty effort, he opened his eyes.

"Winn?"

The older man tried to clear his throat. "Am. . .dead?" he muttered.

Jon laughed. "I don't think so."

"If you have a spare minute, Usher!" Blair's angry voice sounded from behind them. "I'm, like, drowning over here!"

"Oh, shit! I'll be right back, Winn." And he rushed off.

~~~~~~

Hunter stood on the roof of a building across the street from one of the Chinese run markets in Cascade and counted off to himself. By the time he reached ten, there was a roar and a geyser of flame and people raced from the destroyed structure in panicked frenzy.

"See, Winn," he said. "Bet your precious Viper couldn't've pulled it off that smoothly." He smiled. "Maximum destruction, maximum casualties. Look at them run." He paused, listening. "I know it's small. . .but I can do better. You just wait! I'll show you! I'll bring this city to its knees. And then you'll see! You're mine! You belong to me! Me! Viper doesn't deserve you. You just wait! I'll make you understand. You will!"

The ex-agent indulged himself a few more moments watching the chaos below him before moving on to the next target.

~~~

Choate followed Ellison into the bullpen just as Simon Banks poked his head out his office door.

"Has anyone seen. . ." he stopped as he saw the detective. "Ellison! My office!"

"I'll wait at your desk," the Marine told him.

Ellison shook his head. "No. Come on."

The two men stepped inside the captain's office and shut the door.

"Captain. You remember Patrick Choate."

"Yeah, I remember him. That doesn't explain why he's in my office."

"He has some information on that body we found yesterday."

Simon held up his hand. "I've got something else for you. This morning, someone detonated a bomb in a market over on Eighth."

"A bomb?" Choate asked with a frown.

Ellison asked at the same moment. "Like the one in Sandburg's office?"

"Exactly," Banks told them, confirming both questions.

Ellison and Choate exchanged glances.

"Something you gentlemen want to tell me?"

Before they could answer, Rafe knocked and stuck his head in the door.

"Sorry, Captain. A call just came through. There's been another bombing."

"Where."

"Banneker Elementary School downtown."

"What?"

"It's pretty bad, sir."

"Okay. Be right there."

"Talk to me, gentlemen," Simon said gravely after Rafe shut the door. "You know something about this?"

Choate nodded solemnly. "I think I know who's responsible."

"Well, don't keep it to yourself," the captain told him.

"The same man who killed my cousin and kidnapped my boss."

Simon sat back in his chair. "That ex-ops nut case?"

"Yes."

"What's he want?"

"Revenge, obviously," the Sentinel told him.

"By bombing a school and a market?"

"It's not the places as much as what they represent," Choate said.

"And that is?"

"I don't know, but we need to find out before he strikes again."

~~~~~~

Jon had dragged Blair's limp body over to were Justin and Winn lay, piling them closely together to help conserve body heat. He then trotted off in search of firewood and soon had a large fire blazing.

As Winn began to warm, the circulation in his body slowly returning to normal, the gunshot wound sluggishly began to bleed again. Quickly stripping off his jacket, the young man tore off his shirt and stuffed it into the wound, wrapping the sleeves around the big man's body and tying it tight.

Sitting back on his heels, he surveyed his little band. Blair was coming around. Jon hoped the young man was mostly just cold and wet, not injured. Justin remained unconscious, but from his movements, he was obviously in a great deal of pain. Winn he needed to get Winn to a hospital. . .and fast.

"Help. I need help."

For one second, he thought about getting on the motorcycle and driving to the nearest town. Quickly discarding that idea, he was reluctant to leave Winn, even for that long and if he used his phone again, he was sure the Estate would track him. Jon couldn't make up his mind if he could trust them.

"Little boy," came a hoarse whisper.

Jon crawled over to his lover's side. "Yes, Winn."

"Where's the rescue team?"

"They went back to the Estate."

Winn frowned, causing the drying mud to crack and flake from his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't just leave you."

Slowly, Winn turned his head to look to his left and right.

"I had to save you, Winn," Jon said softly.

The older man's gruff laughter ended in a groan of pain. "And who's going to save you?"

~~~

Choate's cell phone chirped.

Ellison noticed it was the 'Bat Phone' as Justin called it.

"Yes?"

"Viper."

"Yes."

"I don't know how they got out."

"They?"

"C.D. and the Professor."

"Tell me you mean just out of the room," Choate hissed, his voice low and deadly calm.

"We've done a full search, Viper. They're off the facilities."

Ellison watched as all the color drained from Choate's face.

~~~~~~

The Sentinel quickly dialled his senses down as he gripped the dashboard of the speeding Jeep, both feet pressing hard against an imaginary brake pedal. "Slow down, Choate. You're going to kill us."

The chief aide eased his foot off the accelerator only slightly as they raced to the landing site.

The moving vehicle had barely stopped before the small 'copter began its decent.

Choate shut off the Jeep's engine and raced to the bird, followed closely by Ellison. Both men climbed inside.

"Can you locate him by tracker?" he asked Hoss the moment he took his seat.

The big man shook his head. "He left it in the hospital room."

Aces lifted the helicopter from the landing site and turned them towards the Estate.

Ellison's phone chirped. "Ellison."

"Jim." Simon's voice sounded over the phone. "We just had another bombing."

"Where?"

"Guardería el Niño de Dios and Temple Beth Emeth of Cascade. A Hispanic daycare center and a small synagogue. The center was full, the children taking naps. The synagogue had just started emptying from a service."

The Sentinel closed his eyes wearily. "Okay, Simon."

"Where are you?"

"I'll have to get back with you, but I'm on it." Ellison flipped the phone shut.

"Hunter again," Choate said.

Jim nodded. "A daycare center down in the barrio and a synagogue."

Choate looked grim. "He couldn't take out Winn, Justin or Blair, so now he's taking out representations of us all."

"So what's left?"

"You."

~~~~~~

Jon paced back and forth in front of his patients as he pulled his hands through his hair. He'd splinted Winn's arm with strips of cloth from what was left of the man's shirt and the straightest sticks he could find, and examined both Blair and Justin. He had done all he knew how to do for them.

Blair seemed the least hurt. Jon hoped with a few hours of rest he would be mobile and could help.

Justin had started bleeding from his bottom, something that alarmed the young agent right away. Not much, just enough to stain the back of his pants.

Winn's blood quickly soaked through the makeshift binding.

All three of them chattered with the cold and dampness but he knew if he made the fire any larger, he ran the risk of setting the forest around them ablaze.

He had to do something, fast! Reluctantly, the young agent withdrew the phone from his pocket and dialled. It was answered on the third ring.

"Yes?" came a voice Jon recognized as Booker's.

"This is Cook."

"Man, where are you? The new Head is bugging and Viper's called here twice! They're going to peel your skin like new bark!"

"09," Jon said softly.

The computer expert fell silent. "What did you say?"

"09."

There was a slight pause. "Where are you, man?"

~~~

Aces took one hand from the wheel and pressed one side of his headphones closer to his ear. "Viper," he called to the back of the bird. "You should hear this."

The big agent made his way to the cockpit as the pilot handed him the earphones.

Behind them the Sentinel cranked up his hearing to eavesdrop without shame.

After listening a moment, Viper handed the headphones back. "You know what to do," he said gruffly, and made his way back to his Ellison, Hoss and Clutch.

"What's up, boss?" Hoss asked as soon as his leader settled in his seat.

"We found them."

"What's '09'?" Ellison asked quietly.

"Who called '09'?" Clutch asked, his eyes on his leader.

Viper watched the Sentinel with curious, but not surprised, eyes. "Cook," he answered his demo expert.

"You mean Professor and China Doll are with him?"

"Yes," Viper said, his eyes still on Ellison.

"What's '09'?" the Sentinel asked again.

"Multiple rescue with injuries, priority one."

Jim's heart leaped into his throat. "Does priority one refer to the extent of the injuries?"

Hoss shook his head, even though the detective wasn't looking at him. "It's the level rating of the injured."

Jim frowned, not understanding the statement.

"They found Winn," Viper said softly.

There was a long pause. "Is he--"

"He's hurt, but alive. They're all alive."

~~~~~~

Jon looked to the sky. Even a jetcopter couldn't have reached them this fast. Fear clenched him in its grasp as he worried for the first time that the help reaching them might not be help at all.

There was no place to run. All he could do was crouch protectively in front of Winn, gripping one of the unused pieces of kindling as a weapon.

Slowly, the shadowy figures approached them, the wind from the copter's blades driving dirt and grass into his eyes.

"Jon, use that stick, or put it down."

The young man straightened. "Viper?"

The vague shapes finally condensed into the forms of Viper, Ellison, Clutch and Hoss.

"Damn, I'm glad to see you!" he cried, but Choate and Ellison had already moved past him to the prone bodies of Blair and Justin.

The Sentinel had assured himself that Blair was indeed alive before the bird had touched the ground. Now he had to reaffirm that discovery by touch.

"Hey, babe," he said softly as he brushed damp, muddy curls from his lover's face.

"Jim?" Blair murmured through blue lips. "Cold."

Ellison wrapped the blanket he held in his hands around the smaller figure. "Here, Chief, let's get you up and back into the copter." He easily pulled Blair to his feet. Slipping his shoulder under the Guide's arm, they slowly made their way back to the bird.

Choate fell to his knees beside Justin and touched his forehead. The fever was back with a vengeance. Wrapping the small body in the blanket like a burrito, he quickly lifted Justin into his arms. "How is he?" the chief aide asked, as he passed his teammates working on Winn.

"He'll live," Hoss told him.

"Good," Viper said, and raced back to the bird, clutching his precious bundle.

Hoss and Clutch gently rolled Winn onto a board, strapped him down and carried him back, Jon hovering close by.

~~~~~~

Forty minutes later a still-dirty, damp Cook stood outside MedRoom 3, his face pressed up against the glass as they operated on his lover.

So hard was he concentrating on what was going on inside, he failed to hear Stealth as he approached.

"I know you're worried, mate, but the China Doll just came out of surgery. . .again. If I were you, I'd find a hole to crawl into and pull it in after me."

The young man shook his head. "I want to stay here," he said absently.

The Aussie touched Cook's arm to get his attention. "They're going to be in there a long time, Jon. At least go get clean up. Have one of your mates keep you posted on his progress. I'm warning you, make yourself scarce. When Viper and that detective have a spare thought, they're going to come looking for you."

Jon turned to look at the agent. "I'm staying here."

Stealth shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just hope it's the detective that finds you first. He'll probably just hurt you. Viper'll kill you." And he walked away.

Jon stood at the window a moment longer before deciding a bath and food would be a good idea. Then, as he hurried away, he thought rest would be good too. Maybe in a quiet place, like one of the storage facilities at the far end of the complex.

~~~

Jon stirred. Why was his neck so stiff? Bleary-eyed, the young man raised his head and looked around. Where was he? The subdued lighting made it difficult to see clearly, but the sounds and scents around him told the young agent he was in one of the Estate eateries.

He sat up, rubbing at the pain. Cook remembered taking a quick shower and finding a change of clothes. Then he had made his way here for a sandwich and a cup of coffee. He must have dropped off to sleep when he had finished eating. How long had he been here? Glancing at his watch, the young man surged to his feet. Three hours??!! How could he have slept for three hours? What had happened to Winn? Shit! He could have died while he lounged away in a restaurant.

He raced out into the hall. In his haste, Jon ran into a solid wall of flesh and bounced off.

Pushing his hair back from his face, and his glasses back up on his nose, he glanced up. . .into Viper's angry face.

"I was just going to see Winn," the smaller man stammered, his hands gesturing helplessly in the air to the room behind him. "Everything kinda caught up with me and I fell asleep."

"You had a busy day." The Marine paused. "Dr. Madueke did some repair work on Justin. He and Blair are sleeping so I came down to check on Winn. The doctors' are just finishing with his surgery. They said he should be in recovery in about ten minutes."

"Good." Jon stepped around the big man and started up the corridor. Suddenly, he stopped and turned back. "I'm glad they're okay." He barely formed the last word before colors exploded before his eyes. When his vision bleared, Jon found himself lying on the floor looking up at an angry Choate.

"No thanks to you," Viper snapped.

He sat up. "I saved their lives--"

Viper's hands curled into fists as he took a step towards Jon. "Get up," he snarled.

Jon ducked, putting his hands up defensively. "No. I think I'll just stay here."

Choate reached down and lifted the smaller man from the floor by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

"I'll bet you had something to do with them getting out of here in the first place. Didn't you?"

Jon swallowed hard, trying to shift away from the angry agent. "I needed somebody to help me find Winn."

Viper slammed Jon's body against the wall again. "You could've asked anyone else to help."

"Anyone else, like who? This man, Stone, put a lockdown on everyone. He had called off the search, had Winn declared dead."

"My team would've helped, Cook. All you had to do was ask."

"I would've, but your team was off-line, Viper. I tried to reach them. Hell, I tried to reach you! I didn't know what else to do."

"We weren't off-line, Cook."

"Yes you were. I can show you, if you want. I didn't know Justin was hurt. If I had I never would've called him. I was desperate, not heartless."

Viper frowned. "You could've all been killed," he growled.

"I love him, Viper. You don't think I could stand by and do nothing, do you? Justin wouldn't. Blair wouldn't, either."

The big agent gave the young man an angry glare. "Now, where have I heard that argument before?" Viper huffed out his annoyance. "Go be with Winn," he groused.

"You're not mad, then?" Jon said hopefully.

"Don't push it, kid," Viper snarled. "The things I want to do to you would get me kicked out of Section," he said in a low voice.

Jon took a step backward, the hopeful expression on his face quickly changing to one of fear.

"Now get out of here, before I change my mind."

The young man turned and hurried away.

~~~~~~

Three men occupied the large, dimly lit room of the modest old mansion. The youngest sat behind an enormous teak desk shuffling paper. Another one, older, leaned against the edge of that desk watching him. The oldest of the three nervously paced the floor.

The young man behind the desk spoke first. "This is all your fault."

The eldest man stopped pacing. "My fault?"

"Yes."

"How? You knew him first!"

"We were young then." Miguel looked away. "We were friends."

"And he repaid your friendship by putting you in that chair?"

"It was a misunderstanding. He should've let me explain."

"And you," the pacer hissed hatefully at the man seated on the desk. "What did he do to you, seduced your wife away?"

"He used her to get information on me," the man said sadly. "When he left her, she killed herself."

"Well, he stole millions from me! Millions! I planned that deal for years! Years!" His eyes went wild for a moment before turning back to his companions. "So, if I remember correctly, you both contacted me. For revenge, I believe you said. You didn't care how it was done."

"Yes, I wanted him dead," said the man leaning on the desk. "I didn't want to be in league with a demon to do it."

"I'm not taking all the blame on this. Yes, I mentioned him. You found him," he pointed out to the oldest man.

"Yes, but you did the background check and you didn't warn us about him beforehand," the young man at the desk replied.

"I didn't know." The oldest man started pacing again. "He was someone from Choate's past. Someone who served in the military with him. Someone who's credentials were almost as impressive. And he hated him. Hated him enough to kill him for us." He stopped pacing long enough to face the man leaning on the table. "When you found out what he was doing, didn't you tell him to stop?" He began pacing again.

"When? Before or after he killed that young man?" the desk-leaner asked helplessly. "Before or after he blew up that market?"

"He blew up a market?" the old man stopped in front of them. Turning to the desk-leaner, he interrupted anxiously. "You didn't tell me he blew up a market, Sidney."

"I didn't think it was important, Vinci," Sidney said defensively. "In fact, I'd hoped he'd gotten himself caught."

"When were you going to tell me?" the old man demanded.

"Probably the same time he told you about the day care center and the elementary school," the younger man told him.

Vinci eyes grew large. "What?!!"

"Oh, and he probably forgot the university."

Vinci grew very pale. "University?"

"Rainier," the younger man said, nodding.

"Shut up, Miguel," Sidney barked.

"Don't tell me to shut up!" Miguel snapped. "I want him dead for putting me in this wheelchair, but not enough to die to get it done. I say we cut our losses and get the fuck out of here before the lunatic comes back."

Sidney and Vinci exchanged glances.

"I think I'm inclined to agree with Miguel on this," Vinci said.

Just then Sidney's eyes drifted over to the television in the corner of the room. "What the--" He snatched up the remote and thumbed up the volume. The announcer was saying:

"If not for Officer Penway, of the Bomb and Arson Squad, and his dog Kilo, coming into the station on their day off, this bomb could have been detonated with devastating results. Police spokespersons say there is no correlations between this bombing and the recent. . ."

The three men exchanged extremely worried glances as Sidney muted the set again.

"He wouldn't," Vinci said softly.

"Why wouldn't he?" Miguel said, his voice tight with fear. "Did you see what he did to that first young man, Choate's friend? And that poor young Asian you got for him afterward."

"I didn't know he was going to kill the boy!" Sidney screamed. "This wasn't about murder!"

Miguel pushed himself from behind the desk, expertly maneuvering the wheelchair across the floor. "I don't know about you two, but I'm on the first plane out of here." He wheeled himself towards the door.

"He'll find you," Sidney called after him.

Miguel cleared the door without a backward look.

The two remaining men exchanged brief glances before they quickly followed Miguel out of the room.

~~~

An hour later, a blood-crazed Hunter returned to the mansion. He'd failed again, he thought angrily as he put his fist through the glass of the front door before opening it. FUCK! He'd failed again!

He had to hurt something! He had to hurt something! He had to hurt something!

Bellowing out his rage, he stormed into the room where his benefactors always cowered together only to find it empty.

The muted television played in the corner. Images of the police station he'd failed to destroy all over the screen.

Did they know he was responsible for the bombings?

Racing up the stairs, he kicked open the door to each man's room, one by one by one, finding each abandoned and in chaos. They were gone.

FUCK!!!

HE HAD TO HURT SOMETHING!!!!

Hunter heard soft laughter from the darkness of a corner.

"Don't you laugh at me!" he screamed. "Don't you laugh at me!" He raced to the darkness. "I will kill you all! You'll see!"

An empty corner greeted him.

"Where are you? Do you hear me! I'll see you all rot in Hell!!" he screeched. "Do you hear me, Winn?"

The soft laughter echoed down the hall.

Hunter followed it. "Do you hear me?"

For the next several hours, Hunter searched the mansion thoroughly for the elusive ex-Fed, desperately trying to catch him so he could silence the mocking laughter. In the process, he systematically took the interior apart, room by room, piece by piece, leaving bloody handprints on everything he touched.

~~~~~~

Young Evers slowly opened his eyes, not surprised to find himself back in the Infirmary of the Estate. "Umm. Paddy?" he said softly as he tried to turn over.

The chief aide moved closer to the small figure on the bed and stopped the movement by placing his hand on Justin's back. "Estoy aquí, querido."

Justin turned his head and offered his lover a weak smile. "Still love me?"

"Hasta la eternidad, amor."

Satisfied with that answer, Justin turned his back and tried to get comfortable. "Mad at me?"

"Estoy tan enojado como un toro en un corrida," Choate growled as he massaged the small back.

Justin half-turned back again. "What about a bull, Paddy?"

"Deberías alegrarte de que tu trasero aun está adolorido, dado que te debo una nalgada que te dejará parado por una semana."

Justin understood nothing but the word 'spanking' and 'a week'. Looking into the chocolate depths of his big man's eyes, he knew he was in deep trouble. "Lo siento," the young man said softly turning back around. "Te quiero, corazón."

Choate stared at the bowed head and the tenseness of the small back. "Eso no te salvará, diablillo," he said, trying to hold onto his anger, but failing.

'Oh, shit! He's using words I can't follow! He must really be mad.' Justin thought desperately. "It won't what?"

"Save you," the Marine translated in a deep voice.

"I know," Justin said, sighing heavily. "I love you."

Choate gave an answering sigh as he slipped into the bed behind his lover. Wrapping his arms around the slight form, he said sternly, "Stay put this time."

"Yes, sir," Justin replied sincerely, as he snuggled closer to the hard body behind him.

The big Marine molded his body until Justin's fit firmly against it. "I mean it, little boy."

Young Evers took the large hand in his and pulled the chief aide's arm around him. "I promise, Paddy," Justin said solemnly.

Satisfied that his message was understood, Choate held the armful of warm Justin until both fell asleep.

Two hours later, the Marine woke to the soft tone of his cell phone.

Sliding from under the tangle of his young lover gently, so as not to wake him, Choate picked up the phone and opened it. "Yes?"

"You can't hide him forever, Viper. I got him once, I'll get him again and this time I'll make sure to do it right."

Choate glanced over at Justin and quickly stepped out into the hall. As soon as the door closed behind him he hissed angrily, "Hunter," as he hit the 'trace' button on his phone. "You sick, twisted son-of-a-bitch! Where are you?"

The laugh was sinister, the voice ice-cold, "Find me,"he taunted.

"Don't think that I won't." Choate drew a deep breath to center himself and slow the painful rhythm of his heart. "And when I do," he promised, his voice deeply calm, "I have something special planned for you for touching Justin."

"A surprise?" Hunter laughed. "I like surprises. Winn likes surprises, too. Don't you, Winn?"

"Winn?" Now Choate frowned in confusion. Winn was four floors away in Recovery. "You're talking to him, now?"

"Yes," Hunter answered, his voice dropping to a caressing whisper.

A chill of fear crept up Viper's spine. "He's there with you, right now?" he asked carefully.

"Surprised? I'm looking right at him. We're going to have a good time, the two of us. We're going back in the beginning. Before you came and took him away."

Determined more than ever to get his hands on the psycho, Viper began to talk, "Hunter. . ."

The ex-ops interrupted, "No! You're just mad because he chose me over you. But I knew he would. He realizes his mistake now. We'll be together, forever." There was a pause. "Bye, Viper. I'll be seeing you in hell."

And the line went dead.

"¡Maldito! ¡Hijo de perra!" he screamed at the ceiling. "Tell me you got a fix!" Viper demanded to an empty hall.

"We got a partial trace, Viper," Chips' disembodied voice replied. "He was using buffers. I can give you general area."

Viper closed the phone with a snap. "Give it to Aces. Tell him Hangar 15 in 6," he said as he took off in a dead run. "Ellison!!" he called as he ran. "It's Hunter."

~~~~~~

The agent's voice called Jim from a deep sleep. Reaching out with his hearing, the Sentinel located Viper three floors down heading towards the elevators. Slipping from the bed, Ellison began to dress.

"Umm, hey, lover," Blair said sleepily, turning over to see what his Sentinel was up to.

"Go back to sleep, Chief," Jim said softly as he pulled his pants on and buttoned them.

"What's going on?"

"I hear Viper coming. He has news about Hunter, it sounds urgent."

"You think he's found him?" the Guide rose up on one elbow to gaze at his Sentinel.

The chime sounded on their door before he could answer.

"I'll let you know when I get back," Jim replied just as the door slid open.

"Ellison," Viper said, stepping into the room. He waited silently as Jim finished dressing and turned back to look at his soulmate.

"I'm counting on it," Blair told him quietly.

Then they smiled at each other.

"What's up?" Jim asked, as the agent raced them through the halls.

"Cook has a partial trace on Hunter."

"Where are we going?"

"To the hangar."

"Viper?"

"Cook," the Marine acknowledged, not breaking stride.

"There's a call trying to connect to Jaguar's cell. Tell him I'm putting it through, now."

"Who?" Jim asked hesitantly.

"CPD."

"Your people are monitoring my calls?" the Sentinel asked Choate.

"Not just you, any unsecured line. Very little communications get through without Comm checking it through first."

The phone signalled. Jim opened it.

"Ellison."

"Jim, it's H."

"What's up?"

"We just got a call from Darryl."

"Is everything all right?"

"He was supposed to meet his father at his house. When the kid got there, everything'd been trashed."

"And Simon?"

"Gone. We have a team over there now."

"What is it?" Viper asked Ellison when his face lost color.

"Simon's missing," Jim told the agent.

"Missing?"

"We're on our way, H."

As the hangar doors slid open, Choate asked, "Any idea who took him?"

They climbed into the small copter.

"The kid's coordinates are in the city, Viper," Aces told them as they settled in. "Small suburb. What would Hunter be doing there?"

Viper and Jaguar looked at one another.

"Yeah, but I hope I'm wrong," Jim said in answer to the Viper's earlier question.

~~~~

Forensics had just finished their sweep of the area when Ellison and Choate walked in. Jim was immediately assaulted by a familiar scent. It froze him in his tracks, blanking his face.

Choate saw it in the midst of talking. "What if. . .Ellison? What is it?"

The detective frowned as he telescoped his sense of smell to follow that one elusive odor outside. There, faint trances visible only to him, were tracks, two set of them.

"Ellison?"

Ignoring Choate, Jim followed the tracks down the street until they stopped at the curb a block away.

"Go get the car," the detective told his companion.

Without comment, Choate followed his command.

Ten minutes later, they were driving.

"He has Simon."

"Hunter?"

Ellison nodded. "He couldn't think he's Brown, could he? No, that's impossible, they don't look anything alike."

"Not to a sane mind."

~~~

He stretched languidly, feeling each muscle pull, hearing each joint pop. Allowing himself the luxury of relaxing, finally. This was his place. He was safe here. This was his sanctuary. Here he was invincible.

The room still bore the sweet scent of incontinence. He knew the odor well. It clung to him, on his skin, in his flesh, wrapping itself around his senses. Becoming a part of him. The last time he'd occupied his secret place, he'd shared it with his lover. Now Hunter flared his nostrils, again picking out the familiar scents of metal and gun oil, age and decay, fear and apprehension, hate and anger. Darkness, thick and concealing as a blanket, again looming before him. And, again, he greeted his old friend.

Naked, skin slick with the heated oil, he knelt on the cold, hard dirt-packed floor, again ignoring the discomfort to his knees, and paid homage to the wooden chest that was his altar. Opening the lid, the old metal hinges protested with a comforting creak as he reached inside to withdraw the neatly folded set of camouflage fatigues.

He'd come home.

As part of the ritual, Hunter stood and slipped on the old familiar garments, his eyes already straying to the far end of the bunker where a shadow moaned faintly. They would be coming soon, but he would be ready for them. Not like last time. This time he would win.

Another groan sounded from the corner.

Hunter smiled a cold, humorless smile. 'I'm coming, Winn,' He thought, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the games they would play.

~~~~~

Ellison pulled the truck to a stop as he glanced desperately around. "Dammit!" he snarled, slamming the palm of his hand against the steering wheel.

"You lost them," Choate stated softly.

Jim nodded. "I wish Blair was here."

"Why?"

"He could help me pick up the trail."

"What would he do?"

Jim snorted in disgust. "Tell me to relax."

"Good advice, Ellison," the agent said wryly.

The Sentinel looked up in surprise at his passenger.

The agent crossed his arms over his chest. "Why don't you take it?"

"It isn't that easy," Ellison grumbled self-consciously.

Choate turned in the seat until he was facing the detective. "Why not?"

"It's not like it's a switch I can turn on and off."

"So what does Blair do?" Choate asked him raising a questioning eyebrow. "To help you relax, I mean."

Jim caught the look. "He doesn't blow me in the truck, if that's what you mean."

"Is that what you need?" he asked calmly.

The detective's eyes grew wide. "Are you serious?!"

Choate watched the detective, his face without expression, his eyes fathomless, until it made Jim uneasy.

"No," the Sentinel said at last. "He talks to me."

"About what?"

"About. . .I don't know. Blair never has a problem with subjects for conversation."

"So, it's not what he says, it just the sound of his voice?"

"Yeah," Jim said self-consciously. "I guess it is."

"Well, close your eyes, and focus on the sound of his voice. Hear it telling you to relax."

"That's too simple, Choate," Jim snarled.

"Sometimes the hardest problems are solved by the simplest solutions," Choate said softly, almost to himself.

"That sounds like some new-age Zen nonsense Blair would spout," Jim muttered, but the agent wasn't looking at him anymore. "Choate?"

"Back to the beginning," he said softly, his eyes glazed and unfocused.

"What?"

The Marine grabbed Jim's forearm. "He's back at the beginning. Before I 'took' Winn away."

"Choate, you're scaring me."

"I thought he meant the very beginning, but he's saying where we found them. That's where he's taken Simon." The agent pulled out his cell phone and pressed three numbers.

"Yeah."

"Pinpoint my location. Get Aces to find the closest landing site and assemble the team."

~~~

Hunter waited, crouched in the bough of a giant tree, invisible to the unpracticed eye. They were coming. He could feel it. Ignoring the aches in cramped and cold muscles, he clutched his Walther close to his chest and waited.

~~~

Aces landed the small 'copter on the outskirts of the woods. The team had changed into camouflage fatigues onboard and were now advancing on the residence Hunter had used to house Winn.

Viper hung back, catching Stealth by the arm.

"Yeah, boss?" the Aussie asked softly.

"When we get there, after Clutch scouts the perimeter for explosives, I want you to find Jaguar's captain." The agent caught his pointman's eye. "When you do, bring him back here and have Aces take him to the Estate."

"What about you?"

"Come back for us." He gave his man's arm a hard squeeze. "Understand me, Stealth, under no circumstances is Jaguar to find him first."

Stealth nodded once.

~~~

"Perimeter's clean," the demolitionist announced after making a thorough sweep of the area.

"This is too easy, boss," Stealth told them.

"He doesn't want to kill us quickly," Hoss told them. "He wants to play with us."

"Anybody in the house, Jim?" Choate whispered to the Sentinel at his side.

"One, in the house, lower level." Jim turned his head to the side. "Another in the woods."

"Which one is Simon," the agent asked.

Jim listened for only a moment, turning his head first towards the house, then the trees. "The one in the house."

"Stealth," Viper said to the Aussie, but he had already taken off in a zig-zagging pattern keeping low to the ground.

"Shouldn't we go with him?" Jim asked.

"No," Viper said shortly as he headed towards the trees.

~~~

Hunter started at the slight sound. They were coming? No. They should be in the house, taking the bait. He checked the scanner he held again. There were the definite sounds of movement coming closer. He slipped from his hiding place and slid into the darkness.

~~

Jim stopped. "He's moving," he announced to the group.

"Where?" Clutch asked.

"Up."

"He's taking the high ground. Let's close this thing up, people," Viper growled as he took off after the enemy.

~~

Lowering the binoculars from his eyes, he pounded the ground with his fist. It was as if they knew where he was headed! Even doubling back on his trail, circling around, they followed him unerringly as if he were bugged. How could they have tagged him?

Hunter paused long enough to strip off all his clothes, even his shoes, before continuing, certain he had left the tracer behind.

~~

Jim stopped at the small mound of cloth piled by the base of an old gnarled tree, half-hidden by leaves.

Clutch ran the detector over it. "It's clean."

Viper used a stick to spread the contents of the pile. "Clothing?"

"Hunter's," Jim announced, then frowned. "Why would he strip?"

"Don't know. Don't care. Let's go."

~~

Hunter paused at the mouth of the cave. Damn! He'd left his flashlight with his clothing. Wait, there was a small cache of supplies near the back of the cave for emergencies. Feeling his way along, he inched into the darkness.

~~

Jaguar stopped.

"What is it?" Viper asked.

"He fell."

"Is he alive?"

"Yes."

The team hurried on, picking up speed.

~~

The four-man team reached the mouth of the cave moments later. Switching on their flashlights, they entered.

Hoss asked, "Where is he?"

"I don't see him," Jaguar informed him.

Before the words could echo off the walls, shots rang out.

The men ducked reflexively.

"Where is he?" Hoss repeated.

"It came from over there." Jim pointed off to his right and they edged forward.

Just as they reached the rim of a steep drop, more shots rang out, the sound intensifying and ricocheting off the walls.

Jim dropped back, covering his ears with his hands. "Damn!"

"Are you all right, Jaguar?" Clutch asked him, immediately at the Sentinel's side.

"I'll be okay."

Hoss asked, "What are we going to do, boss?"

"Wait until he runs out of ammo?" Clutch suggested.

"He's reloading," the Sentinel informed them.

"It's too dark to return fire. It'd just be a waste."

"One of us could climb down."

"And risk getting hit? Even if he can't see, he can get lucky."

"I can try to take him out," Jaguar offered.

"In the dark? Even Viper isn't that good."

"Let him try," their leader said.

"Here," Hoss told him, handing him his gun.

"No, thanks. Too big for me. I'll use my own." Jim moved off slowly, slithering on his belly as close to the edge of the cliff as he dared, and listened.

Taking a chance, the Sentinel opened up his sense of sight and sound to focus on the madman below.

Hunter lay nestled up against the rock face, his breaths coming in short, sharp pants as if in pain. There was no way to get a clean, clear shot of the man. This was going to take some fancy shooting, even for a Sentinel.

Hunter fired off another full clip before ejecting it and reaching for another.

While he was preoccupied, Jim sighted as close as he could to the man's head and fired. He heard the bullet strike the rock, nicking off a sharp piece that creased Hunter's temple. The man dropped to the floor, unconscious.

"I got him!" Jim announced to the group. A second later, his world exploded into stars, then darkness.

"Viper?" Clutch and Hoss had watched their leader steal up behind Jaguar while he was preoccupied with Hunter, and deliver a sharp blow to the back of the man's neck.

Viper dropped to his knee and checked Jaguar's pulse. Thankfully, it was slow and steady. He turned back to his team. "We'll tell him a rock fell from the ceiling."

"You think he'll buy that?" Clutch asked.

"Not for a minute," Viper told them. "Get him to the landing site."

The two agents bent to pick up the detective.

"What about you?" Hoss asked.

"Take him back to the Estate. Send Housekeeping for me."

The two men said nothing else, they hefted their burden and headed out towards the mouth of the cave.

~~

Three days later, Miguel Alvez received a large package at his small home on the outskirts of Juarez. It was wrapped in plain brown paper and was extremely heavy. Sent by special courier, there was no return address, no special markings, nothing to tell him of its origins.

Miguel had the delivery man set the package on the patio and went into the kitchen for his scanner and a knife.

The package scanned clean.

Miguel slid the knife under the string that bound it, and cut it. Next he tore the paper away. Underneath was a Styrofoam box. Taped to its top was a letter sized, manila envelope. Miguel tore it free and opened it. Inside was a single sheet of heavy linen paper. Written on it in elaborate scroll was a child's poem.

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses, and all the King's men,
Couldn't put Humpty together again."

With shaky hands the man cut the packing tape that held the box closed and slowly lifted the lid.

Inside, packed in ice, where two legs covered in bloodied camouflage fatigues, combat boots on the feet.

Miguel would recognize those boots anywhere.

The delivery man had driven too far down the road to hear Miguel's screams.

~~~

Sidney picked up the snifter of brandy and answered his phone with a sharp, "Yes?"

"Did you hear? Miguel was found dead this morning. Apparently a suicide."

"Vinci? What?" Sidney asked just as the bell to the front door rang. The chime also sounded over the phone. "Vinci, there's someone at the door."

"Same here. I'll call you back."

~~~

"Police have identified the body of a man found floating in Cascade Harbor two days ago as that of billionaire recluse Sidney Cavers. You will remember Mr. Cavers was involved in a government scandal several years ago where he lost nearly all of his fortune. Authorities suspect suicide.

"And in our International News, "Italian philanthropist, Eduardo Vinci, was found dead in his villa outside of Naples yesterday. Friends say Signor Vinci had been increasingly depressed and despondent since the death of his wife several years ago. No foul play is indicated. Police are ruling the death a suicide.

Simon switched off the television at the knock at the door. "Come," he said gruffly.

Blair and Jim stuck their heads in. "Hi, Simon." They pointedly ignored Bank's battered face and the cast on his leg,sling on his arm, bandage on his wrist.

"Want to tell me where I am?" the big captain snarled.

"Umm," Jim began.

"A private hospital," Blair cut in.

"And wanna tell me who's paying for all of this?" he demanded. "I can't get anybody to tell me anything!"

Blair sat on the side of the bed. "How do you feel, Simon?"

"Who told you you could call me Simon?" he snapped waspishly.

Blair's smile slipped. "You did."

Simon frowned. "When?"

"Two weeks ago. Don't you remember, at the mayor's press conference?"

"I haven't been to the mayor's conference, that isn't until the 24th."

"Simon, what day is it?" Jim asked carefully.

The captain thought a moment. "The eleventh? No, twelfth."

"Of?"

"April."

"Simon, it's the fifteenth of May."

The frown deepened. "No. I distinctly remember giving you guys the invitations yesterday."

"No, Simon, that was almost three weeks ago."

Simon's eyes glazed a bit as he pursued elusive memories to deadends in his mind.

"Do you remember how you got hurt?" Jim asked.

He shook his head. "The doctor's say I was in some kind of accident."

Blair and Jim looked at one another.

"You don't remember the accident?" Blair phrased the question carefully.

Simon shook his head again, looking even more puzzled.

"I'm going to go find a doctor. Blair, you stay with Simon. Simon, I'll be right back."

Outside in the hall, Ellison stopped an orderly. "Where's the doctor in charge?" he demanded angrily.

"In surgery."

"Do you know where Pa. . .Viper is?"

"Viper?" the orderly said loudly.

There was a brief pause. "Yes?" Choate's voice came out of the air.

The orderly looked at Jim.

"Viper, it's. . .Jaguar." Jim ducked at the strange look the orderly gave him. "I need to talk to you."

"Do you remember where my suite is?"

"I'll be there in ten."

~~

Once there, Jim found Justin sitting in a chair on several cushions and Choate standing behind him braiding Justin's hair.

"Hello. . .Jaguar," Justin said with a brilliant smile.

His lover secured the braid with a heavy metal clamp. "Behave yourself, imp," he said sternly. "You finish getting our things together so we can get out of here."

Justin leaned his head back for a kiss, then smiled at Ellison. "They're releasing Paddy today. Isn't that great?"

Jim frowned. "Releasing him?"

"Yeah," Justin bubbled as he bounced to his feet. He stumbled, wincing slightly and clutched at his bottom. Glancing up, young Evers caught Ellison watching him and blushed darkly. "Guess Paddy was plenty mad about the rescue." He ducked his head in embarrassment. "Excuse me, I'm going to give the bedroom one last check," he murmured and hurried off, closing the door behind him.

Viper turned to regard Jaguar. "You want something?"

"What's going on?"

"You have to be more specific."

"I just saw Simon."

"How is he?"

"He doesn't remember."

Viper didn't even blink.

"He doesn't remember the kidnapping or what happened to him while Hunter held him hostage." And the Sentinel waited, again Choate cast him an unwavering gaze. "What's going on, Choate?"

"Nothing. Maybe it's selective amnesia," he said calmly.

"I'd say so, but Justin's lost time, too."

Choate turned and began gathering up stray items in the living area. "Leave it alone, Ellison."

Jim followed him around. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

The agent looked back at the bedroom door. Laying the items aside, Choate took Ellison by the arm. "Let's step outside."

When the doors closed behind them, he spun on the detective. "Let it go," he ordered hotly.

Ellison stood his ground. "What did you do?"

Closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. "I gave them peace."

"What?"

Deep brown eyes regarded blue ones. "I asked the doctors here to take away the last two weeks of their memories."

"You what?!! Take away-- You tampered with their minds?"

"And what was the alternative, Ellison? Years of therapy? Emotional scars that would alter the people that we know and love into strangers?"

Jim slammed the agent up against the wall. "What gives you the right. . ."

Choate pushed back. "Knowing what Hunter's capable of gives me the right!" he snarled in the detective's face.

Jim blinked at the man he held for several seconds before slowly releasing him. He ran his hand over his face. "What did he do to them?"

"Nothing, now," Choate told him. "Leave it go, Jaguar. Trust me, it's better this way. Let them have their peace."

"But what if the memories come back?"

Viper shook his head. "They won't. The Estate has been performing this procedure for a long time. They know what they're doing."

Jim took a deep breath, digesting the information. "And what about Hunter?"

"Hunter's been taken care of," Viper said softly, then looked the detective in the eyes. "Justin's waiting." He turned to go back into the suite.

Ellison stopped him with his hand on his arm. "Tell me you didn't kill him, Viper," the Sentinel asked when the agent turned back to face him.

Viper regarded the detective a moment, then smiled. "I didn't kill him," he said softly.

Jim released his arm, and Viper stepped back through the door.

Ellison turned to head back to the elevators and Blair. He had listened to Choate as he answered and the detective was confident that the agent had told him the truth.