“Faith”

By: Laura Tucker

ALL THE USUAL DISCLAIMERS APPLY. THIS IS MY FIRST PIECE OF FAN FICTION FOR THE SENTINEL. I MAKE NO MONEY FROM THIS AND DO IT ONLY FOR MY ENJOYMENT (AND MY SENTINEL ANGST DUES!)

I DO NOT OWN THESE GUYS, JUST WANTED TO TAKE THEM OUT TO PLAY, HURT THEM A BIT AND GIVE THEM BACK TO PET FLY IN REASONABLY GOOD CONDITION.

**************************************************************

Do we make our own destiny, are we the masters of our own fate or is there something out there larger than ourselves that guides us through the trials and tribulations of existence and gives us the strength to hold on when we know there is no hope left.

What lies beyond is simple faith. Faith in a creator who is infinitely more intelligent than us, a creator whose very existence confirms our own self worth. This faith in something higher, a reason for us to exist and to live and to love, to carry on raging against the everyday injustice of the world around us is sometimes simply enough. Our hearts get burdened and minds bogged down from the sheer weight of the atrocities man commits against man on a daily basis.

Why then do we continue? Why do we struggle to survive? Is it pure instinct alone or something far greater? Is it something greater than ourselves that allows us to hold on, clinging to the smallest of hopes and dreams even in the face of certain defeat at the hands of our enemies? These questions, so often pondered by man alone, became the common focus of Blair Sandburg as he struggled to survive against all odds one dark and snowy night.

****************Chapter One***********************

Monday

6:00 p.m.

Running nearly an hour late, Blair Sandburg had just made it to the parking lot. As he reached to grab the door handle of the Volvo, he heard rather than felt, the bullet enter his brain.

Explosions of light danced behind his eyes driving him to his knees. Falling forward onto the pavement, Blair’s last conscious thought had been of his partner, James Ellison. He had time to utter only one word so quietly that no one could have heard.

{Jim…}

*************************************************

Monday-December 13^th.

5:59 pm

On the other side of town, Blair’s partner sat typing yet another of their endless reports. Tired and bone weary, the detective began clearing off the paperwork in order to make a hasty retreat.

Six o’clock.

Perfect timing he reasoned, since it was Blair’s turn to make dinner.

Home beckoned and he actually began to smile for the first time today as he made his way towards the front door.

He grabbed the edge of the nearby doorway as the quiet plea for help echoed through his soul. He stopped and took a calming breath before turning around and making his way back to his own desk, quickly sitting down and sweeping the phone into his hand in the same instant.

Jim had learned over the last couple of years not to discount things of this nature, especially when it came to his guide. Whether he believed completely or not was not the issue here.

Blair’s safety was.

He first dialed Blair’s office and then getting no answer, dialed the loft.

“Dammit Blair… pick up.”

After 6 rings he slammed the phone down and leaned heavily back in his chair.

A hand to the shoulder startled the detective as his captain, Simon Banks, came up beside him sitting on the edge of the desk.

“What’s wrong Jim?”

Jim let out the pent up breath he’d been holding and shook his head.

“It’s Sandburg, sir. I can’t reach him. He should be at the loft but he isn’t answering there or at his office.”

“And…”

“And…I thought…I mean…well sir…as I was leaving I thought I heard Blair call my name.”

Simon sat back, studying his detective. “Go. Find the kid. You’re done here anyway.”

Jim jumped up heading for the door, stopping momentarily at his captain’s whispered, “God, just this once, please let the kid be stuck in traffic.”

**************************************************

That was 7 days ago.

No call. No ransom note. Nothing.

Nothing until today. Nothing until the first letter came.

**************************************************

December 20^th.

Monday

9:15 am

It was lying on Jim’s desk when he walked back from Simon’s office. Marked with bold red lettering addressed as priority for Detective Ellison’s eyes only.

As intended, it caught his attention immediately and with shaking hands; he carefully opened the letter knowing there would be no fingerprints to trace.

Monday-Dec.20^th.

Detective Ellison,

I believe I have something you want.

In his weaker moments, Blair cries out for you.

He still believes you’ll come for him.

Even as he lies dying, he calls your name.

How does it make you feel to know that someone has that much faith in you?

His tolerance for pain is incredible.

You can find out more about a man’s character by the noble way he tolerates pain than any other way imaginable. The way he protects you, his friend, even as I beat him into submission. The way he seeks to divert my attention away when I mention your name, practically begging me to torture him further if it will save you from my hands. Little does he know, Detective Ellison that his torture; his pain, is yours.

Detective, as you lie in bed tonight, I pray you dream.

Dream of your partner and dream of your soul.

What you’re losing is what I have already lost.

What you’re feeling is what I’ve already felt.

Oh my. It seems that your partner has awakened again, however briefly it may be.

He does cry out for you. The bullet to the head was only the beginning.

First, I have taken his sight. Then I will take his hearing, and then…well you see my pattern don’t you detective?

Well, it’s time to go for today. You see, I have a lot of fun planned for our little Blair tomorrow providing he makes it through the night. We’ve had a lot of fun this past week, he and I, and we’ve come to an understanding of sorts. He will endure the pain and in doing so, will save you from the same fate.

I am sorry to tell you that the heat is out where Mr. Sandburg is. Unfortunately, I can spare no blankets. Such is life.

I must go. Tomorrow starts bright and early. The day waits for no man.

Sincerely,

The Reaper

Jim dropped the letter into his lap, letting the tears flow freely down his face.

********************Chapter Two******************

Tuesday

December 21

4:22 a.m.

The Loft

Jim Ellison sat upright as the heart-rending sound of Blair's anguished screams penetrated his brain. Bolting from the couch with hand clasped tightly to his mouth, he barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up into the toilet bowl.

*************************************************

4:22 a.m.

Across town in an abandoned warehouse his partner screamed in agony as his eardrum was pierced repeatedly with a small ice pick. Blood trickled down in dark, coppery rivulets past his cheek to drip onto his bare chest. His vision faded in and out, sometimes completely gone, other times giving him a hazy picture of his attacker. Seeing the man so close, reaching for him again, Blair pushed himself further against the wall.

He could do little.

He was cold, exhausted and shock had set in hours ago.

He could feel his own heart beat feeble and uneven, yet he longed for the periods of unconsciousness that he had experienced earlier even knowing that if he drifted off, he may not wake up. He thought of Jim and how it would devastate him if he were the one to find the body.

His body.

Moaning quietly, Blair felt the rough hand caress his cheek, then soothe the hair from his cold, sweaty forehead.

"Where is your great defender now Blair? Your Blessed Protector...isn't that what you call him? Where is he now boy? Do you think he cares where you are?" Blair tried to pull away but the pain in his head was overwhelming. "Do you think he gives a damn what happens to you?"

Blair flinched as the man pulled his head back by the hair. "You're not deaf boy. I didn't take the hearing from both your ears!" he screamed into Sandburg's face. Blair pushed down the rising nausea to try and focus on the man standing before him. He knew this man. Why couldn't he remember?

As his world faded to black, the last thing he saw was a tape being taken out of a video camera and put into a large manila envelope with his partner's name scrawled on it.

**************************************************The Loft

December 21

5:30 a.m.

Simon Banks sat on the coffee table looking directly at one of his finest detectives. A man who had lived through hell on earth in the military, a less than loving family upbringing and a rough marriage that had ended in divorce under less than pleasant circumstances.

This man who had survived in the jungles of Peru, the same man who had fought so hard to stay alive until rescued was the man who sat before him now, yet there was no longer a light in his eyes.

Simon handed him a cup of coffee that he cradled in his hands, yet made no move to drink.

"We'll find him. Sandburg's been through worse than this."

Ellison slowly shook his head. "I don't think so, sir. I don't think we'll be in time."

Ellison sat the cup on the table and leaned forward, putting his hands up to cover his face.

Banks leaned forward himself and laid a hand on Jim's knee, feeling the tremors running through the big man's body.

"You have to have faith Jim."

At that, Ellison looked up into the eyes of his captain and leaned back against the couch.

"In what exactly sir? In what would you suggest I put my faith? The department? "

"Not in what...but in whom. Faith is a two way street Jim."

"What if I fail Blair? I don't think I could stand it if..."

"He has faith in you. Don't you think it's time you had faith in yourself?"

Both men jumped as the phone rang. Jim grabbed the phone, listening intently as the tracing equipment came on line.

"Ellison."

"Listen very carefully detective. Go directly down to your truck and look on the front windshield. I believe you'll find it quite interesting."

"Who the hell are you! I want to speak with Sandburg..." the phone was disconnected before a trace could be made and Simon shook his head. "Sorry Jim."

Ellison slammed the receiver down and ran for the door with Simon following closely behind.

As they approached the Foed, both saw the large envelope stuffed under the wipers of the truck.

Walking into the apartment, Jim sat heavily down on the couch holding the package against him as if it were a living thing.

"God Simon...I don't know if I can do this."

Simon nodded and took the package from Jim. "Should we have it dusted?"

"The other envelope was completely clean just like I knew it would be. We can run it just in case but I'm sure they won't find a thing. He's too careful."

Simone nodded and pulled the tape and letter from the envelope. Attached to the top of the videotape was a small baggie with long chestnut curls in it. Attached to the ends, Simon could make out died blood and scalp.

"Bastards." Simon sat the small package out of the Sentinels sight knowing that his senses had already detected it while still in the envelope.

Putting the tape into the VCR and hitting pause, he sat on the couch beside the detective and handed him the letter.

Jim's hand trembled as he began to read to himself the words that were neatly written on the page

Tuesday December 21

Detective Ellison,

I believe I have something you want.

Something that you need.

What do you have of value to offer in return?

Money is not what I seek. Oh no detective. Not what I seek at all.

What price the cost of a soul or half of a soul in this case, eh Ellison?

Your partner screamed for you as I took another sense from him last night.

He is blind and deaf now.

Do you still value him as you did before knowing that he will never return to you whole again, if at all?

Slowly he is losing his mind from the shock and pain. He lies alone in the dark, crying out for you. He whispers your name reverently as if his prayers are heard and he can ask for your protection when he is the one who is in peril.

Such devotion I have never witnessed before. You were truly a man blessed. Did you know how lucky you were?

You're in for a treat detective. I had the good fortune of finding a really decent video camera on sale just recently and the close up shots are spectacular to say the least. I'm sure you'll enjoy the show as much as I did when I was filming it. Pity that I did not get the scene in the parking lot as the bullet entered your partner's temple.

I could have easily killed him you know, but this is so much more fitting.

An eye for an eye so to speak. Well, you reap what you sow.

I know exactly what you are detective Ellison and exactly what you are not. Soon Blair will also. He only sees in you what he wants. He doesn't realize what you are capable of like I do. Oh yes...I know what you’re capable of if pushed far enough.

Enjoy the little video detective. Another will arrive for you tomorrow.

The Reaper

Taking the letter from Jim's limp hand, he quickly read it and switched the VCR from pause bringing the scenes before them to life.

****************Chapter3***********************

Wednesday December 22

4:22 a.m.

A boot against the ribs awakened Blair. Moaning softly, he turned away only to be roughly grabbed and pulled to awareness.

“Do you know what time it is boy?”

Blair’s vision had worsened again during the night and he could see no more than shadows and ghostly images tauntingly close but yet unrecognizable.

“I’m not a boy.”

“Oh I know…not a boy yet not a man either. Not quite.”

“I know you.”

“Yeah. I’m sure you do.” Abruptly grabbing Sandburg by the arm and pulling him to a sitting position, the man leaned in close, his hot breath striking Blair on the cheek.

“Who am I?”

“ What?”

“I said, who am I?” the man shouted as Blair flinched trying desperately to pull away from the man’s grasp.

“Your one of Jim’s men. One of the dead from Peru. He has…he has a picture of you with the others.”

“I’m not dead am I?”

Without warning, the man grabbed Sandburg’s hair, bending his neck backward at an almost impossible angle, smiling as he heard the vertebrae pop and grit together. Savoring the moment a bit longer than necessary, he brought the heel of his hand quickly to the bridge of Blair’s nose and broke it, dropping him to the floor without a backwards glance.

**************************************************

Cascade P.D.- Major Crimes

December 22

4:22 am

Detective James Ellison sat alone in Bank’s office staring off into space. Going home was out of the question. His calls were being forwarded here and Simon had men stationed at the loft. He knew the kidnapper would know where he was. It was as if the man could sense him.

He had a nagging feeling that he should know this man but couldn’t pin it down. His senses were going haywire. He hadn’t zoned but he had experienced brief moments where his senses would either be out of control or lately almost non- existent. Blair kept him balanced, focused. Without Blair, Jim was lost. He knew that.

At the instant that his captain came though the door, Jim slumped forward unconscious, falling onto the floor.

Throwing the handful of files he’d been carrying quickly onto his desk, he knelt beside Ellison. Finding a steady pulse, Banks made his way to the bullpen and discretely rounded up Taggert to help, dragging him back to his office. With little effort they got Jim positioned on the couch and then backed up to lean against Simon’s desk.

“What happened?”

“I have no idea. He was fine when I left him. I just ran down to get the report from Forensics and as I walked in, he hit the floor. Exhaustion I’d guess. He’s been pushing it hard the last couple of days.” Banks looked fondly over at the man now lying on the couch.

“We’re not going to find Blair in time are we?”

“I honestly don’t know. There’s something about this case we’re missing. It’s right up at the surface but I just can’t put my finger on it. Somehow it revolves around Jim. That letter proves it.”

“How could you know that? I’ve gone through case file after case file. All those cryptic references could be to throw us off the track.”

“No. It’s someone from Jim’s past. I’m sure of it. The report we got back said that the caller used a device to disguise his voice even though he was only on the phone with Jim for a few seconds.

No, Jim would recognize him and he knows it. That’s where we need to be concentrating.”

Keeping a wary eye on his detective, Captain Banks pulled a chair out for Taggert, stacking the file folders towards them.

**************************************************

Banks Office

7:30 a.m.

A knock at the door startled them both. A young plainclothes detective entered carrying an all too familiar manila envelope addressed as before, to Detective Jim Ellison.

“Another package sir. It was dropped off at the front desk by a courier who is being detained now and questioned. He seems on the level though. He’s from a 24-hour courier service here in the city.”

Banks handled the large envelope carefully, placing it on the edge of the desk and turned back to the young officer. “Captain Taggert will go down with you. Please inform your lieutenant that we need to be informed of anything that he may turn up.”

“Yes sir.”

Taggert followed the officer out the door without looking back.

He knew what was in the envelope as well as Banks did and it wouldn’t be pleasant.

Whoever the sadistic bastard was that had kidnapped Sandburg, he had certainly used every low trick in the book to twist the knife into Ellison’s soul.

Whatever the kid did to worm his way into the detective’s heart originally, he had carved himself a niche and made a permanent place there. He feared for his friend if they found Blair too late. Would Ellison go back to being the shell of a man as he was before or would he turn that anger against his own self, consumed with guilt and pain?

Taggert shook his head sadly as he boarded the elevator. He joked frequently about before BS and after BS but right now, joking was the last thing on his mind.

**************************************************

7:33 a.m.

The man circled the unconscious Blair as a great cat would its prey. His eyes shown brightly in the glare of the one large florescent fixture suspended from the ceiling of the small warehouse. Kneeling, he reached down and pulled Blair’s face from the pool of blood now drying under his nose and wiped it with a wet cloth making sure the swelling had not shut his air supply off completely.

Blair stirred but did not wake.

“Ellison is nothing. He left me to die in that jungle. Did he tell you that there was one body never recovered? Your precious protector left me to rot, to die alone in that hellhole. He lied. He told them that all the bodies had been recovered. I was already there. Being held hostage by the Rebels. After the crash, their mission became less important and we were all but forgotten. I was in Ellison’s unit but was assigned temporarily on another mission with Unit Two. We were captured. We waited for unit Seven to dispatch. Then the copter crashed. We were left to die. Written off. All the others died except me. I escaped, changed my identity and followed Jim here. He should have died on that copter with all our buddies. He should have died Blair. That, I could have forgiven him for. But not this.” He sat back and shook his head vigorously. “An eye for an eye Blair. Isn’t that what they say in the Bible. An eye for an eye, huh.”

He cleaned the wound around Blair’s eye and placed a bandage over the fresh wound. Blair’s nose had slowed to a trickle and his breathing was shallow but had evened out.

The man sat back on his heels, surveying his work.

Shaking his head, he looked down into the battered but yet somehow still innocent face of his captive and sighed deeply.

“It’s a shame it had to come to this. It really is, but a man has to be a man.

You’re a fool to believe Ellison ever cared about you. Ellison cares about only himself. No one else. Only himself.” He muttered as he stood, turned off the light and walked away.

**************************************************

Simon Banks Office

December 22

7:45 am

Simon sat on the edge of the couch and touched the sentinels shoulder, gently shaking him from sleep.

Jim sat up slowly, his brow furrowed somewhat as the events of this morning slowly came to mind.

“Are you alright? I wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t a zone and your pulse was strong, so I.....”

Jim waved him off and stood up going over to the carafe to grab a cup of coffee.

“I’m fine, sir. Any word?”

“That’s why I woke you Jim. A few minutes ago another envelope was dropped off down stairs addressed to you just as before. This time by courier service but don’t expect any leads. Everything has dead-ended so far. Taggert’s down there now making sure everybody does whatever it takes to nail these guys. We don’t want any slip-ups because of carelessness.

He handed the package to Jim, slowly putting his other hand on the big detective’s shoulder. “Jim, we all care about Blair and we’re going to do everything in our power to get him back alive.”

Jim nodded, a gentle smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.

“I appreciate that, Sir. More than you know.”

Jim took the package and wandered back over to the couch while Simon leaned back in his chair.

Jim carefully tore the edge of the envelope, letting the letter and video fall from inside. Along with those items was a small, snack-sized bag of Chetos that tumbled out to lie by the other contents innocently.

Jim could smell his Guide’s scent on the packaging, even with his senses messed up and worked to hold back the fear that was threatening to overwhelm him at that very instant. He centered himself and took a deep breath before picking up the letter lying on the couch.

December 22- Wednesday

Detective Ellison,

I have something you want.

Something you think you still need.

Blair is quite the fighter. Loyal. Courageous.

Quite strong of will. What he lacks in size he makes up for in spirit.

Very admirable qualities in a friend, wouldn’t you say.

I’m afraid he has little time left Jim. His body has weakened considerably after this morning.

I may not get the revenge the way I sought originally but all will be even in the end. A life for a life.

Your life means nothing to me. I could have killed you long ago but what pleasure would I have gotten from that?

No. I know where your heart is Ellison. I don’t know how it happened; only that it did. Well payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

You have 2 more days to find me Ellison.

I’m closer than you think.

Look in your dreams Jim. There you’ll find me.

The problem is, I'm not sure Blair can make it that long.

I do feel badly for him. He almost choked on his own blood and vomit today as I broke his nose and blood so draws the rats in here.

Oh by the way. Your little friend here is quite resourceful. He figured out my identity. Pity you aren’t as cleaver.

Well I must close. Tomorrow’s a busy day.

Our score is not yet even. You have taken my life from me and I am about to take something from you far more valuable to you than your own.

Until tomorrow detective, The Reaper

P.S. I realize that those Chetos aren’t a box of Cracker Jacks but there is a nice surprise for you inside, Jim. A window to your very soul. Enjoy.

Running his hand slowly over his face, Jim picked up the small bag of snack food from the couch, noticing that it had been opened at one corner and carrying it over to the deck, carefully dumped it out. Chetos spilled across Simon’s desk, as they tumbled from the small package. Noticing that some were sticking to the bottom inside the bag, Jim took a pencil and carefully pried them out.

“Oh God in heaven ….” Simon said.

Jim could only stare at what lay on the edge of Simon’s desk.

A single eyeball.

*******************Chapter Four******************

Banks Residence

December 23

By a little after 2 am, James Ellison had fitfully drifted off to sleep lying on the captain’s couch. Simon had stayed awake himself, keeping an eye on his detective until 2:30 but after throwing a blanket over his sleeping friend, he had shakily made his way to bed and succumbed to the exhaustion that had plagued him since the beginning of this case.

**************************************************

Banks Residence

December 23

4:00 a.m.

A low moaning coming from the front room awakened Banks. He quietly drew his gun from the nightstand drawer and crept silently toward the living room, wishing that he had left at least one light on.

Remembering who was on the couch, he drew up closely beside him as Jim began to move about mumbling something that he couldn’t quite make out. Needing to do something, he reached out, laying a hand on Ellison’s arm.

“Jim. It’s Simon. You’re just dreaming.” As he leaned over to flip the small reading lamp on, he was pulled down roughly by the arm until he was on the floor by the couch, his face only inches from Ellison’s.

“Don’t”

“Don’t what Jim?”

“Don’t turn on the light.”

“Jim…. not all of us can see in the dark you know.”

Jim pulled himself up to a sitting position.

“I know who has Blair.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Simon sat quietly waiting for Jim to calm himself and gather his thoughts

“It goes back to Peru, sir. He was in my group, group #7 but he had been on loan to group 2. We were sent in to train the local tribesman to hold down vital trade routes against the rebel forces in the area. At least that was our secondary mission. The one that officially went down on paper. Our primary mission was to secure and rescue a team who and been sent in before us. No one knew whether they were dead or alive. Hell sir, they weren’t even supposed to be there.”

Ellison shifted on the couch, running a hand over his face and sighed heavily.

“Our chopper crashed before we could complete our mission. We never had a chance to locate the other team. One of my own men, Lieutenant David Hamilton, was the member on loan to unit 2. After I was pulled from the jungle 18 months later, the cover story had already been put in place by the C.I.A. and I was debriefed and told never to discuss the second team again. Effectively, they didn’t exist. Neither did the mission. As far as the American people were concerned, the mission was only about trade routes and rebel forces. Never was the C.I.A. brought into the picture. It was tidied up and forgotten. So were the lost men of group 2.

“This, David Hamilton…you’re sure he has Blair?”

“Yes. He said I would find him in my dreams. Well sir, he was only half right. I found him in my nightmares.”

*************************************************

In a deserted warehouse across town

December 23

4:22 a.m.

“Water......”

The man, David Hamilton, who sat beside him on the concrete floor only laughed.

“Beg.”

Blair moaned, unable to hear what the man was saying to him clearly because of the punctured left eardrum and tried to turn away.”

“I said beg, dammit!” he backhanded Blair hard across the face as the grad student began to cry hoarsely.

“No more. Please.”

Blair’s shoulders shook from the sobs that he had kept from his attacker up until now. He had been determined to cry only when left alone and never to beg. With the dawning of the morning, his reserves gone, he had been unable to help himself.

His vision was completely gone now. He was blind, partially deaf and in more pain than he thought he could ever have endured. He was cold, shocky and lying in a pool of dried blood.

He was sure his nose was broken and the pain was almost more than he could stand.

The man leaned over Blair, pulling his head backward so he could talk directly into his good ear.

“You think Ellison will come for you?”

“I know… I know he will.”

Blair coughed sending a small dribble of blood out of the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

“Yeah…that so? I had faith in Ellison once too. He screwed us all over just like the government. Swept us under the rug like a good C.I.A. lackey. Our Captain, the great James Ellison. What a joke.”

“Jim would never do that…he isn’t capable of…” Blair broke off as a coughing fit seized him. Pulling his knees up to his stomach, Blair rolled away from the man and threw up on the floor.

Hamilton jumped up from where he had been sitting and backed away from Blair and the mess he had created on the floor.

“You stupid son of a bitch! What the hell did you have to do that for! What a mess!”

Blair knew that he had nothing in his stomach to come up except blood. He’d had little in the way of food and almost no water over the 10 days he had been held captive but his broken nose had been draining down the back of his throat all day and had pretty much filled his stomach with congealed blood and mucus.

“Jim will come!” Blair sobbed. “He’ll come and he’ll kill you!”

Hamilton just laughed. “Not possible kid. I’m already dead. I died the day Colonel Winter decided our lives didn’t mean squat.”

Grabbing Blair by the arms, Hamilton drug Blair into a far corner of the small warehouse, propping him to lean back against the wall. He then tied both wrists together in front of him and walked back to retrieve his video camera.

“Smile for your partner Blair. We wouldn’t want to disappoint him would we?”

As he walked towards him, Blair began to scream.

**************************************************

Simon Banks office-Major Crimes

December 23

7:30 a.m.

Joel knocked on the captain’s door and without waiting for an invitation, walked in carrying a now, all-too familiar package in his hand.

“This was waiting for me rolled up in my newspaper this morning sir. It’s addressed to Jim.”

Simon nodded and began to unwrap the tape uneasily, relaxing as the customary video and letter fell out of the envelope. No extra packages today.

“Thank God.” He muttered, turning away from Joel.

“Should I get Jim? I saw him talking to Conner as I walked in.”

Banks nodded as he sat down heavily at his desk, picking up a cigar and pushing the tape into the VCR.

Joel turned to leave as Jim walked in carrying a heavy mug of black coffee.

“This mornings tape got delivered to Joel at home rolled up in his newspaper. This guys slick. He had to have been studying us all for a while.”

“One of the best, sir. Special Forces- Airborne Rangers. He was trained for tactical surveillance missions.”

Simon chewed on the cigar in his mouth but didn’t light it.

“Jim. If you want to step outside for a few minutes, Joel and I can view the tape and let you know what’s on it.”

Sadly, Jim shook his head.

“I can’t. I can’t do that to Blair. He’s counting on me. I can’t let him down. Maybe there’s something on the tape that I can use to find him. Now that we know’s holding him…we may be able to figure out where he’s being held.”

Both Jim and Joel drew up chairs flanking the captain’s desk as Simon picked up the remote. Briefly pausing, he turned to his men.

“Jim, I think you and I both know this tape will be bad. We know this bastard’s crazy, are you sure you don’t want to step outside?”

“No. I need to see it, Sir.”

Simon nodded, turning his attention back to the screen and hit play.

~~~~~~~~As the video started, Jim leaned forward in his chair to stare at the images on the screen. Images that would be forever be etched in his subconscious and would haunt his dreams for years to come. ~~~~~

The scene playing before them was clearly a warehouse. Non-descript and ordinary, nothing special.

Several seconds of seemingly dead air space filled the video screen and then, without warning, a male voice was heard speaking on the tape. One that had been absent in previous tapes received.

“Smile for your partner Blair. We wouldn’t want to disappoint him would we?”

As the man walked into camera range, Blair began to scream. A scream coming from the very depths of his soul. He began to struggle weakly against the rope that bound his hands, knowing that he was too weak now to escape.

“Ellison. I know you’re watching this and I know by now you’ve figured out who I am.

That’s good. No more games. Let’s get down to business.”

Reaching down, he pulled Blair roughly by the hair until he was held close to the video camera left sitting on the table in front of them.

“Partner ain’t so pretty now is he, Ellison? Blair here, he’s been defending your honor right up to now. Isn’t that right Blair?”

He slapped Sandburg on the face once, just enough to get his attention.

Blair flinched but didn’t cry out this time, now knowing that the video camera was running.

“I said…isn’t that right Blair!”

This time he slapped Blair hard enough for his nose to start bleeding again but he still did not answer his tormenter. Instead, he began to cry quietly, his shoulders shaking visibly.

“I’m sorry Jim. I’m sorry…”

The man turned from Blair towards the camera, addressing Ellison as he reached for something just out of viewing range.

“I know what the Chopec told you Jim, about your enhanced senses. I know what you think you are and what you are most definitely not. You are not special. You are not noble and most of all…you are not brave. You are a coward. You betrayed not only your own men but also the memory of the first team you left to die at the hands of the rebels. You are nothing but a liar. A government sanctioned liar.”

He moved back toward Blair, a small bottle clutched in his hand.

“We were kept in boxes Ellison…boxes. Small, cramped wooden boxes…not even cells. We couldn’t see, hear or feel anything from the outside world. Do you know what sensory deprivation can do to a man’s mind Captain Ellison? I do. All the others died. All except me. I escaped. I escaped but not until weeks later after they had broken me. When I was finally dragged into the daylight because they decided I might be useful to them after all in some way, I finally found my means of escape.”

The man knelt down beside Blair, who was once again quiet and spoke to the camera.

“Get a good look at him Ellison. It’s all you’ll have left to remember him by.”

Hamilton cupped Blair’s cheek in his hand, caressing lightly as he turned the man’s face s toward the camera.

Everyone in the room stared at the image in close up on the screen before them.

Only Simon spoke to break the silence “Dear God…”

Up until now, even though Blair had been shown, he was somewhat in shadow. Now, he was being presented to them in the light like a sacrificial animal before it’s slaughter.

They could only stare, as Blair looked sightlessly ahead, his face nothing but a mass of bruised flesh deeply discolored and swollen almost beyond recognition. A dirty bandage covered one eye.

“As you see Detective Ellison, your Guide is nothing to you anymore…right Blair?”

Blair nodded slightly.

“No,” Jim said brokenly.

“He has been judged and found unworthy. An eye for an eye, right Ellison? An eye for an eye.”

In that instant, he flung the contents of the small bottle onto Blair’s hands as his captive began to scream while trying desperately to pull away from him. He held fast to his prisoner as the acid burned into not only his hands but also his face and chest where some of the liquid had splashed as it was thrown.

The video camera moved with its victim, so that everyone present could see in the detail the results of Hamilton’s latest accomplishment.

Jim sat silently, unable to keep the tears from running down his cheeks as he watched his best friend who lay dying at the hands of a madman.

“How does it feel Ellison to know that you are directly responsible for the death of your friend…your Guide, as you call him.”

With that final remark, the tape ended.

~~~~~~All men sat quietly for a few moments while trying to come to terms with what they had seen.

In shock, Jim reached for the letter that sat on the edge of Simon’s desk. With shaking hands, Jim began to read out loud.

Captain Ellison,

This time I’m afraid I have something that you may no longer want, something that you may no longer find useful.

A pity, because this man lying before me has more character than you ever had.

I asked you before Ellison, how does it feel to know someone has so much faith in you? So much faith when you have so little in yourself. You are coward and a liar Captain, nothing more and nothing less.

The acid made short work of the task at hand, so to speak and I feel I have exacted the revenge I came for. May you rot in hell Captain for what you’ve done to me.

Incredibly your partner is still alive as I write this but only in the most basic of terms. He still calls your name in his more lucid of moments, begging you to come for him.

Tomorrow you will receive one final tape. Then, as he has served his purpose, I will dispose of him as I see fit.

I pity you Ellison. Your whole life has been based on lies and half-truths. In protecting yourself, you have lost something more valuable to you than your own life.

Until tomorrow,

David

Leaning back, Ellison covered his face with both hands, letting the letter fall to the floor.

A knock at the door startled them all as 2 uniformed officers entered, one carrying a folder tucked underneath his arm.

“Sir. We were told to bring this to you right away. It might be the lead you’ve been looking for.”

END PART ONE