Forces Merge
by Brate
Rubbing his tired eyes, Blair Sandburg looked around the street. He had been in Cascade, Washington for six days and had no Sign. Maybe his quarry was not here. He knew he would have to move on if he didn't get anything today. Too much was at stake to be wasting time; he had done enough of that already.
Two years ago he had left Norway and the Primes, heading south. He traveled through Europe and Africa - no pull. Migrating west, he searched South America, and up to Mexico. Crossing the border at Texas, Blair kept his northerly direction until reaching the Dakotas. Once again he was directed west, continuing his trek until he finally reached Washington. Everything he had felt since the beginning of his journey was leading him to this location. But after a week without any indication, he was almost ready to concede defeat - almost.
Sighing deeply, Blair decided to make one more circuit around the city. Extending his awareness and hoping for a connection, he walked down street after street. His feet were sore, his legs rubber and his eyes exhausted from searching every passing face. As he turned onto a boulevard crowded with people, he received a sensation.
It sent his head reeling.
Hurrying forward, he saw yellow tape roping off a section of the road and sidewalk; police officers worked furiously within the enclosed area. Blair knew the One must be here, but in the middle of this chaos, he couldn't tell who it was.
Closing his eyes and concentrating all his mental energy on the area in front of him, he sent out a quick prayer and opened his eyes. Blair saw a tall, plain-clothed police officer turn and look directly at him. He smiled; relief, excitement, and satisfaction coursed through his body.
Blair had found him at last - the Sentinel.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Jim Ellison eyed the crime scene in disgust. The bastard had struck again; three corpses in three weeks with no clues at any of the scenes. The killer taunted them, sending mocking packages. First to the Homicide Department, then they had started coming in Jim's name when Major Crime had been assigned the case.
He paused in his inspection of the scene when he was inexplicably drawn to scan the crowd. His gaze connected with a teenager who grinned widely at him in return.
Jim's hackles rose. There was something "off" about him. The kid was dressed like a hippie, scruffy clothes and long hair. And he had the gall to keep that ridiculous smile pasted on his face the entire time Jim was blatantly observing him.
One of the basics of investigation was to watch the crowd surrounding a crime scene, on the chance the killer was admiring his handiwork. Jim called a uniformed officer over to him and told her to detain the young man. The officer detoured to pick up her partner before making contact.
Ellison surreptitiously watched the two officers as they went to detain the longhaired suspect. The pair cautiously approached the teen and talked briefly. Jim was surprised when the boy nodded eagerly. Taking the suspect behind the roped off line, the officers initiated a more in-depth discussion.
Within a few minutes, one of the officers walked toward Jim while the other remained with the teenager.
"He said his name is Blair Sandburg and he needs to talk to you... specifically," she said.
"Why me?"
"He won't say, but he won't talk to anyone but you."
"All right." Turning to the M.E., Ellison told him that he would catch up at the station. Motioning to the officer, Jim walked briskly to where the others waited.
The uniformed officers stood behind the youth, bracketing him.
"Okay, kid, what do you know about the body?" Jim demanded.
"The body?" Sandburg's confusion was evident in his tone and expression. "I don't know anything about a body."
"Then why do you need to talk to me?"
"To enlighten you about your Destiny."
"Riiight." Jim signaled to the officer to escort Blair away. "He's all yours."
"No, wait!" Blair struggled against the officer's grip. "I have to talk to you!"
"Another time, Chuckles." Ellison shook his head. Why do I get all the nuts? he wondered as he climbed into his truck and drove to the station. He dismissed the incident from his mind.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
At the end of his shift, Ellison walked to his truck and slammed his fist on the hood. His frustration level was at an all-time high, which was saying something. The M.E. and Forensics had found nothing, other than that the killer had chloroformed this victim, too. But Jim knew there was something else there to discover. The detective couldn't say why he knew or why he couldn't find it. Finally resolving to continue his internal debate tomorrow, he got into his vehicle and started it up. He swung the truck around and headed for the exit of the parking garage. Barely allowing the security gate to rise, he pressed down on the accelerator, only to slam on the brake a moment later.
Inches from his front bumper, framed in his headlights, stood the kid from that morning's crime scene. Ellison threw the truck into park and hopped out to confront him.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Eyeing the large vehicle with a wide-eyed stare, Blair had to shake himself out of the shock of almost being run down as the tall detective barreled down on him. After he had been questioned by the police and released, Blair had gone to Cascade's library and researched his Sentinel. Everything he found out had strengthened his certainty this was the man he had been searching for.
"What the hell is your problem?" yelled Ellison.
Blair regained his equilibrium and yelled in return. "Right now you are!"
Seemingly taken aback by the vehemence, Jim sputtered, "I could've hit you!"
"I'd say that was obvious. Thanks for not, by the way," Blair added.
"What do you want?"
"I need to talk to you."
Jim shook his head and turned away. "You already said you know nothing about this case."
"No, it's about you... you're him."
"Who?"
"The Sentinel."
Jim swiveled around and jerked his thumb. "Listen, Chief, I think you'd better take your freak show on the road before you end up in jail."
"I can't," Blair said, desperately, "I was meant to find you."
"Congratulations, you found me. Now, go away."
"You don't understand."
"And I don't want to, either." Jim's voice was tinged with annoyance.
Blair knew wasn't explaining himself properly. But this was not how he had envisioned his first meeting with the Sentinel. He had found his Holy Grail, and now he had to convince the Grail. He started at the beginning. "You're the Chosen One, the Sentinel."
"You say that like it means something."
"It means everything!" Blair tried to keep his frustration in line. "On the rarest of occasions, there is born an exceptional individual. With his extraordinary senses, he is a force for good, the Protector."
"Uh-huh, and do the voices in your head talk to you often?"
"When that person is born," Blair continued, ignoring Jim's sarcasm, "their Guide feels the connection and seeks him or her out. Once the Bond is made, the Sentinel and Guide use their skills to fight evil and protect innocents."
Jim spread his arms wide. "As you can see, I've been out of diapers for some time."
"Your first Guide died in childbirth," Blair not-so-patiently explained. "The Primes had to wait for me to come of age before I could be sent on my journey to find you."
"Come of age?" Jim laughed harshly. "What are you, sixteen?"
Blair snorted. "Try twenty."
"I did try twenty - fourteen years ago," Jim snapped. "And what the hell are the 'Primes'? Your cult?"
"A very influential group."
"Never heard of 'em."
"That's the way they like it," Blair said. "It's easier to influence situations when no one knows you exist."
"Listen, kid, I don't go for that mystical mumbo-jumbo." Jim turned away and got back into his truck.
Blair followed him, standing beside the vehicle. "Whether or not you believe in it, it does exist... and you're a part of it."
Jim shook his head. "I don't want any part in your delusion. Come near me again and I'll charge you with harassment." The tires left streaks as he squealed off.
"I swear I'm going to sabotage that stupid truck so he can't drive off again," Blair mumbled after the disappearing vehicle.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
The following evening was chilly as Ellison unloaded a bag of groceries. He slammed the truck's door and started up the sidewalk when he heard a scuffle. Dropping his bag, Jim ran toward the sound. As he rounded the corner of the building, surprise almost stopped his momentum. Blair Sandburg was struggling with someone and, as Jim watched, the young man received a solid hit across the left side of his face.
Jim shouted and the attacker dropped Sandburg and took off running. The detective was torn between going after the assailant and seeing if the kid was all right. Surprising himself, he stayed and checked on Blair.
Sandburg rolled over, attempting to get to his feet. "Man, do the muggers in Cascade work out?"
"Only the really good ones," Jim said, reaching down to help. "Looks like you hit the jackpot."
"Actually, I think the jackpot hit me." Blair groaned when he carefully poked his left eye.
"Come on, let's get some ice on that." Jim took hold of Blair's arm and steered him into his building, picking up his abandoned groceries on the way. Inside his loft, Ellison directed Sandburg to his couch and the young man sat down hard, laying his head back.
"Thanks, man," Blair mumbled as Jim placed a bag of frozen veggies over his battered eye.
The detective let Blair have a few moments before he asked, "What were you doing out there?"
"Waiting for you."
Jim sighed. "You know, Chief, pretty soon I'll have to upgrade you from harasser to stalker."
"If you'd only listen to me, I wouldn't have to follow you around. I'd be right beside you as your Guide."
"I'm from Cascade; I don't need a tour guide."
Blair straightened up, letting the bag slide from his face. "Give me ten minutes. If I don't convince you, I'll go." He made an X with his fingers across his heart. "Promise."
Jim realized the kid wouldn't leave until he had told his story. "Ten minutes," he finally agreed, checking the time on his watch.
Now that he had gotten his wish, Blair seemed to struggle with how to start. "Have you noticed anything... odd lately?"
"Yes, some neo-hippie flower-child wannabe has been following me around."
"How did you know?"
"What?"
"How did you know I was here tonight?"
"I heard the fight."
"I saw where you dropped the groceries, man. You were too far away to hear anything. Unless..."
"Unless what?" Jim asked suspiciously.
"Maybe," Blair said, thinking out loud, "after we met at the crime scene yesterday, you became tuned into me, my heartbeat, scent. You know, my elemental presence. And that kick-started your senses."
"Hogwash."
"Did you actually say hogwash?" Blair laughed. "What are you... seventy?"
"At this point in the conversation I feel like it." Jim glanced at his watch. "You got five minutes left. Anything else you have to say to convince me?"
"Do you dream about a black jaguar?"
Jim was genuinely shocked. He had never told anyone about those dreams. "H-how do you know about that?"
Blair cackled in triumph. "It's your spirit animal. We all have one, but you're close enough to the Power to see it. When you get in tune with your abilities, the jaguar will be able to appear in your waking life to assist you."
"That's not incentive, Sandburg."
"Just listen to me, man. All these things will work for you, making you a one-man crime-fighting factory. It's your Destiny."
"That's a nice story, Chief, and just in time for bed." Jim conspicuously looked at his watch. "Oh, look," he said in mock surprise, "ten minutes... Goodbye." Lifting the protesting Blair from the couch, Jim pushed him out the door.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Blair stared at the closed door. What just happened here? One minute he was certain he was convincing Jim of his future, but the next moment he was again shut out.
"That went well," he mumbled as he turned toward the staircase. Now what should he do? He sure as hell wasn't giving up, not that he had a choice. This was where he was meant to be, who he was meant to watch over.
Blair decided to take a different tack. He hated to call for help from the Primes, knowing they were already nervous about his abilities. The young man didn't want them to think he couldn't handle a Sentinel, but he might have no choice. Every Sentinel was precious, and fewer were being born than ever before. At this date, as far as he knew, there were only three in the entire world. And it was his responsibility to convince Ellison.
He pushed angrily through the building's front door, nearly running into someone in the process. "Sorry," he mumbled distractedly. Blair was still trying to think of a way to persuade the Sentinel when he was grabbed from behind. A cloth went over his mouth and nose, and he tried in vain to avoid inhaling the sickly sweet smell.
His vision blurred and the world went black.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Rolling over to turn off the blaring alarm, Jim woke with a groan. He stumbled down the stairs and, eyes closed, started the coffee perking. He leaned back against the counter and rubbed his face. Once he felt more alert, his eyes lit on the bag of broccoli, surrounded by a pool of water. He had tossed it into the sink after he had kicked the kid out the night before.
Guilt flooded him as he stared at the mushy sack. After he had shoved the kid out, he had felt an unexpected sense of loss; it took all his willpower not to run after Sandburg and bring him back. Maybe he had been a little harsh on the kid, but that cock-and-bull story he had told had to be bullshit. There was no way he could be this Sentinel or whatever.
But Jim's certainty did not hold up against his doubts.
He arrived at work to find chaos in the bullpen. Grabbing the elbow of a passing detective, he asked, "What's going on?"
"Lots." Rafe turned and shouted across the room, "Captain, he's here."
Jim marched into the office of Captain Simon Banks, head of the Major Crime Unit. "Simon, what's going on?" he repeated.
"This morning we got another one, Jim."
Ellison didn't need to ask what that meant; he knew it would be another package from their killer. "So soon? Does this mean he's changing his pattern?"
"We don't know anything for sure, but this is the first time we've received a package before finding a victim. It's got to be significant." He gestured toward the innocuous-looking carton sitting on his desk. "Forensics has already been over it and found no fingerprints, as usual."
"Maybe he's giving us a heads-up on his next victim." As Jim opened the box, he heard a wolf's howl. Jerking his head up, he looked around wildly. "Did you hear that?"
Simon's eyes scanned the room. "Hear what?"
"Nothing." Ellison shook his head. "Never mind." He finished opening it. Inside was a note. Jim picked it up and read it aloud. "You will again be too late."
Simon grunted and pointed at the box. "There's more."
Going into the box again, Jim brought out a necklace - a very familiar necklace. He had seen Sandburg wearing it the night before. "Oh, my God." The detective felt as though a part of his soul had been ripped away. How could Blair matter that much to him when he was practically a stranger?
"Jim, do you know whose it is?" Banks asked him.
"I- It belongs to a kid named Blair Sandburg."
"Who's he?" The captain started taking notes.
"I don't know," Jim sadly admitted. "I just met him two days ago."
Confused, Simon asked, "Do you know where he lives?"
"No." Jim answered, his voice vacant.
"Do you know where he works?"
"No."
"Goddammit, Ellison, snap out of it! This is the first break we've had in this case and you're pissing it away. Now, what is this kid to you?"
"Everything," Ellison said, voice scarcely above a whisper, shocking himself at the revelation.
"Jim," Simon started, obviously trying to control his temper, "would the killer think this kid is special to you?"
Jim's head snapped up, piercing his boss with a blue-iced gaze. "The bastard must have been watching me. He saw Sandburg hanging around and took him to taunt me." Ellison slammed his fist against a wall. "I have to get him back!"
"All right, Jim, okay." Simon sighed, relieved his detective was finally back on board. "We'll need a description of this Sandburg, and any info you have on him."
"That's just it, sir, I barely know the kid."
"Tell me whatever you can."
An image flashed in his mind... A jaguar running through the jungle. A wolf ran toward it. The animals leaped at one another, crashing together in a blinding light.
Jim came back to awareness hearing the very worried voice of his captain.
"Ellison... Jim, are you okay?"
Inhaling, Jim smelled the spicy tang of Simon's cigar-scented clothes; he could hear multiple conversations clearly, in both the bullpen and throughout the entire floor; he felt the minute etching on the beads in the necklace he held. The Sentinel had emerged.
"I'm fine, Simon."
"Then why haven't you responded to anything I've said in the last few minutes?"
"I've been thinking," Jim prevaricated. Through the captain's office window overlooking the bullpen, Ellison spotted a coal black jaguar lying atop his desk. Blair's voice came to him: When you get in tune with your abilities, the jaguar will be able to appear in your waking life to assist you. "I might have an idea where Blair could be."
"Let's get the team together and go get him."
"I'd better go alone."
"You'll need backup," Banks argued.
Jim glanced at the big cat. "I'll have it." He looked back at his captain, his expression determined. "I'll call you when I know something."
"Jim, don't play games with this guy. He's already tortured and killed three people."
"And now he has Blair. His terrorizing days are over."
He left before Simon could argue anymore. The cat had disappeared from the bullpen, but Jim hoped it had not gone far. Running down the stairwell at top speed, he skidded through the lobby and out the station's front doors. To his right he saw the panther. It stood expectantly, patiently, as if waiting for Jim.
With a sigh, Jim said, "Here goes nothing..." and started after the large cat.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Blair fought against the pull of sleep and struggled into consciousness. His head hurt, but when he tried to reach up to grasp it, he found his hands restrained. Fear quickly cleared the cobwebs from his mind.
Looking around made him dizzy and nauseous, but he forced himself to take stock of his surroundings. He was strapped to a table, shirtless and gagged. Squinting, he could scarcely make out the interior of what looked to be some kind of shed, aglow with the flickering light of numerous candles.
"I thought you'd never wake up," a soft voice stated.
Blair whipped his head around, belatedly realizing the motion increased his nausea. His eyes blurred and he strained to clear them. Before him stood a small man, thin and plain - a man who would not warrant a second look in a crowd of two. Blair tried to speak, but was prevented by the gag in his mouth.
"I've been waiting hours," the man said. His face was shadowed by the candlelight. "It's no fun if you aren't awake."
Blair shuddered at the empty tone. He pulled on his bonds and shouted against the cloth covering his mouth. His muffled cries made his captor chuckle.
"I guess I should let you speak... if you can't speak, you can't scream." The man moved forward, caressing Blair's cheek before reaching for a knife. He held the blade in front of his captive's face, and twisted it slightly, smiling as Blair's eyes grew wide. Flicking the knife, the man cut the gag.
As soon as the binding fell free, Blair started screaming at the top of his lungs.
His captor merely stood back and smiled.
Blair's screams tapered off as he realized the apparent futility of the action.
"Are you finished?"
"Who are you?" Blair asked. "What do you want with me?"
"Me? I'm nobody." He chuckled softly. "Well, that's not quite true. The newspapers call me 'Stalker.'"
Hearing the name filled Blair with terror. Above him was the serial killer that had cloaked Cascade in fear. This monster had already killed three people and now Blair was his prisoner.
He was alone; no one knew where he was or that he was even missing.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Running block after block until his lungs burned, Jim followed the cat, fearful of losing his only link to Blair Sandburg. Blair was his Guide. Jim accepted that the boy was a part of his life.
Now he just had to find him.
Jim skidded to a halt and looked around, searching for the jaguar. The detective caught a flash of black, barely visible - even for his powerful vision - and then there was no longer any sign of the supernatural cat; he had no idea how to find Blair.
Swallowing his frustration, Jim realized what he had to do. Closing his eyes, he reached out his senses, seeking. After a long moment his eyes flew open. He could feel Blair!
The Sentinel began walking steadily and unerringly toward his Guide.
Stretching out his hearing, he could make out Blair's voice coming from inside a construction shack. Quickly dialing his cell phone, Jim said, "Simon, I've found them." He gave the location.
"Wait for backup," the captain ordered.
"He might not last that long," Ellison disagreed. "I'm going in." He turned the phone off, cutting any argument short.
Hearing a pain-filled cry from his Guide, Jim surrendered his entire being to the Power and became the living embodiment of the Sentinel.
And now that the Sentinel was on the hunt, nothing would keep him from his prey.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Blair cursed himself for providing proof of his pain. He didn't want to give his torturer the satisfaction of hearing him scream, but he had been startled by the quick slice to his chest.
Watching as the blade slid across his belly, it took a moment for his brain to register the sting. It was almost as though he were watching his torment in slow motion. His torturer had made half a dozen slices on various parts of his body, although none deep enough to inflict much damage. Stalker was simply trying to induce fear.
It was working.
He felt as though his entire chest was on fire. Blood was leaking from the wounds and dripping down. Blair began to feel lightheaded and wondered, absurdly, where they would find his corpse. And if Jim would ever regret that their time had been cut short.
Blair was brought out of his trance by a stinging slap on his cheek. "Pay attention."
Summoning his diminishing strength, Blair felt a strange intensity build within him. Focusing harder, he could feel Jim was close. His Sentinel was coming for him!
Blair smiled.
Stalker pulled back from his bloodied prey with a frown. "What's so funny?"
"I had almost given up too soon."
Then the killer smiled. "That's more like it. Enjoy your pain."
Blair managed to shake his head as he answered, "I think I'll enjoy yours more."
Confusion entered Stalker's eyes as he raised the knife high over his captive.
A commanding voice halted the final strike in mid-air. "Police! Put the knife down and step away from the boy."
Stalker whirled around to find himself facing an enraged man. The gun glinting in the candlelight lent weight to Jim's command. "You made it," the killer whispered. He glanced back and forth from his victim to the new player.
Blair waited anxiously, feeling more vulnerable now, this close to rescue.
After a long moment, Stalker smiled. "I guess the game is over," he said. "And I was just to the best part." Blair's would-be killer lowered his knife, twisting to place it on the counter behind.
As soon as he had set it down, he rushed at Jim in a fury. The attack was so sudden that the detective didn't have a chance to use his weapon. The two men toppled into a heap onto the floor and out of Blair's sight. He heard Stalker screeching, followed by an inhuman roar and powerful thumps before everything went quiet.
"Sentinel?" Blair hesitantly inquired. "Jim?"
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
"Jim?"
The voice of his Guide snapped Ellison back to awareness. He shook off the vestiges of the Sentinel and quickly handcuffed his unconscious prisoner. Rising up, Jim fought the encroaching rage at the treatment of his Guide. Blair was covered in bloody slices, and Jim was hard-pressed not to kill the man lying at his feet.
"Are you all right, Blair?" he asked.
"Yeah, get me off of here."
With his conflicting senses, Jim couldn't determine if his Guide had suffered serious damage. "Maybe we should wait. There's help coming."
"Just untie me... please."
The plaintive tone did its job; Jim freed Blair and helped him sit up. He shrugged out of his jacket, placing it over his friend.
Jim tilted his head and listened carefully. "Sirens. Help'll be here soon."
"Great," Blair said wearily. "I hope they bring snacks."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Shielding his eyes from the bright, colored lights of the emergency vehicles, Jim Ellison scanned the area for his Guide. The suspect had already been taken away and the detective had completed his initial statement. Jim spotted Blair tucked inside an ambulance, having his wounds tended.
"How is he, Mike?" Jim asked the paramedic.
"I'm fine," Blair offered.
Jim ignored Blair. "Mike?"
The paramedic winked at his patient before answering, "He'll be fine. Luckily, he didn't need any stitches."
"He has a name," Blair muttered darkly.
"But," Mike continued, "he should be checked out by a doctor within the next couple days. Make sure none of the cuts are infected." He placed a bandage over the final wound.
"I'll take care of him," Jim said. "Thanks."
"Anytime."
Blair climbed down from the ambulance. Grabbing a blanket from Mike, Jim wrapped it around the injured young man and led him to his truck.
"I told you, I'm fine," Blair said peevishly as he leaned against the tailgate.
"You aren't fine, Sandburg," Jim began.
"I just need some time to process." Blair shivered and clutched the blanket closer.
Ellison saw the slight shaking and knew it was delayed shock. What Blair needed was to get his mind off tonight's trauma. In a lighthearted tone, he offered, "Let's say I accept this whole 'Destiny' thing."
"Yeah?" Blair looked up, hope replacing the deadness in his eyes.
"Does it come with a health plan?"
Sandburg slowly grinned. "No, but you're bound to meet lots of interesting people."
"I think you already filled my 'interesting' quota for the year."
"Honestly, Sentinel, it's going to be very exciting."
"Name's Jim, not Sentinel," he corrected. "This is Cascade. Nothing much happens here... except for the occasional psychotic serial killer," he added after a look from Blair.
"Now that you've accepted your Destiny," Blair said, "evil will be drawn to you."
"The mayor will be so pleased," Jim said wryly.
The two sat in a companionable silence, watching the organized chaos around them. Flashing lights threatening to hypnotize him, Jim shook himself out of his self-imposed stupor. He looked over and saw Blair was having trouble staying awake.
"Where are you staying?" Jim took out his car keys.
"I had a room across town, but I'll be moving in with you," Blair said matter-of-factly.
"No way, Chief."
"I have to be close. How else am I going to guide you?"
"Phone it in?" Jim asked hopefully.
"And of course I'll have to work with you."
"Simon'll never go for it."
"Don't sweat, Sentinel. It'll be taken care of."
"Speaking of Simon, here he comes. Act normal." At Blair's affronted expression, he added, "I mean, don't say anything kooky, that's all."
"Oh, that sounds much better," Blair mumbled under his breath.
The police captain walked over to the truck. "Blair Sandburg?"
"Yes?"
"Glad to see you're all right, son," Banks stated gently. "We were worried about you."
"Thank you, sir."
He glanced over to his detective. "Well, Jim, we have a new addition to Major Crime."
"Who?"
Simon nodded toward Blair. "I just got the phone call. Seems Mayor Blakely wants the kid to be a civilian consultant. Permanent ride-along status... with you."
"You're shitting me." Jim looked over to see a very smug Sandburg ducking his head under his blanket to hide the smirk.
"You two have the rest of the week off. I expect you early Monday morning to start the paperwork." Banks walked away shaking his head and muttering.
"How did that happen so fast?" Jim asked Sandburg.
"I've got connections," Blair said with a mild shrug.
"Maybe you can 'connect' me with Sergeant Hooper in Communications. I've been trying to get her number for weeks."
"I'm a Guide, Jim, not a miracle worker."
Jim wrapped his arm around his Guide, pulled him from against the tailgate, and pushed him to the passenger side door. "Let's go home, smartass."
Blair nodded and climbed in the truck. "I'm down with that."
