Summary and Warnings are detailed on the summary page
He opened the door to the loft, closing his eyes and taking a second to appreciate the feeling of home that ran through him.
"I'm on the balcony," Jim called out, his voice calm.
Blair quickly divested himself of backpack, keys, coat and sweater, moving to join him and smiling as his sentinel looped one arm around his shoulders. For a second Blair let the link between them hum -- his empathic barriers had been sorely tested by what seemed like an avalanche of freshman students who'd come by his office, all with the same questions. Blair guessed that fifty per cent of them must have been coming to view the novelty of a guide on his own at the university. It would take time he thought; time to move away from the prejudices.
There was a quiet rumble across the link as Jim felt the turmoil of his thoughts. "You okay, Chief?"
Blair leaned into the bear hug, gaining strength as his Sentinel shielded him. He smiled as he caught stray thoughts of poker and popcorn and beer and friends. Once his barriers returned to normal, he nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay, big guy. Poker game still on?"
Blair's grin grew wider as he saw Jim's answering grin. Catching Jim's calm mood, Blair pushed thoughts about guides and sentinels to one side. Not tonight. Tonight was about friendship.
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Fred McKinley yawned and shook his head to keep awake, which was difficult to do in the middle of the night. He barely glanced at the familiar road ahead as he stretched his legs out in the roomy cabin. Leaning his shotgun up by the door, he turned to the driver. "Did Susie bake today?"
George Studley glanced at the clock on the dash before answering. He smiled contentedly. "Pastries this time." He inclined his head. "Under the seat, there's coffee there too."
Fred bent down and started rummaging under the seat. "Heard you won the pool on the football game earlier?"
George smiled broadly. "Yeah. 250, going to put a down payment on that..."
Fred noticed the change in his companion's voice. Straightening up, he glanced out of the window. "What the...?"
The truck slowed to a stop in front of a large fallen tree that blocked the road and Fred frowned. There was no other route to their destination so they'd have to have to it cleared, which meant alerting the local authorities, which meant answering pesky questions. Of course, they were on a sanctioned GDP mission and had full clearance, but his superiors had made it clear that these shipments should be kept low profile and quiet.
George instinctively reached for the microphone on the radio. "Should we call it in?"
Fred swallowed and nodded, he wasn't quite sure but something wasn't right here. Why had the tree come down like that? He'd been up here in all kinds of weather and nothing like this had ever happened before. He reached for his shotgun.
Suddenly three masked figures ran in front of the truck and all pointed shotguns at the pair. Fred looked to his side and dropped his hand away from his shotgun as he saw another figure point a revolver at them. He flashed a glance at George and saw him start to bring his hands up. Fred copied the gesture.
A masked figure pulled him out of the cab and pushed him face forward onto the ground. His hands were roughly tied behind his back and then he was frisked efficiently from head to toe. He heard a small grunt of satisfaction when the probing hands found the keys to the rear of the van. A hand pressed his head into the dirt when he tried to raise his head to see what was going on. Fred obeyed. That was one thing the GDP taught you, how to obey orders. Fred sighed as he heard a whoop of satisfaction come from the rear of the truck.
"Must be a couple hundred cases of the stuff here! We have got ourselves a fortune!"
Fred tagged the speaker as coming from somewhere in the east, he couldn't tell quite where, he'd heard the accent only on TV.
"Get the tree out of the way."
Fred stayed still as he could while he heard activity all around him. He told himself that all they wanted was the truck and its contents. They had worn masks, hadn't they? That meant they were going to be let go, didn't it? He hoped George would be sensible too, George would, he'd been doing this route for longer than he had, been in the GDP for years. He'd be sensible. Fred kept his eyes closed for a while, easier to keep calm that way.
After a few minutes of activity around the rear of the truck, Fred heard several people move closer towards him. He felt rather than heard the vibrations of their footsteps as they moved past him.
"Kneel."
Fred almost knelt up in response to the whispered command and then he realised in time that the order hadn't been given to him. He cautiously opened his eyes and immediately recognized the sight in front of him. A sentinel and guide, the command had obviously been to the guide who was now in the now seemingly out of date working position, with its head on the thigh of the sentinel. Fred watched in admiration as the Sentinel, alert to any changes in the Guide's posture, used the slightest of hand signals to correct the guide. He was so caught up with watching the pair at work together; Fred almost missed the appearance of a newcomer, masked and wearing dark clothing like the rest of the gang. Closing his eyes to avoid being caught looking around, Fred strained to hear the muttered conversation that took place. For once Fred wished he had sentinel-level hearing.
"Stay girl."
Fred held his breath while he heard two pairs of feet move past him again. Once he felt it was safe, Fred opened his eyes again. This time he risked a closer look at the guide. The dark, baggy clothing had hid the fact that the guide was female. Hearing no one else close by, Fred cautiously looked around him. Looking underneath the truck, he could see members of the gang moving up and down on the other side; ahead he could see shadowy movements and hear chains being looped around something. Fred guessed they were about to move the tree out of the way.
Moving his attention back to the guide who looked as though she hadn't moved, Fred wondered what to do, if he could just get to the emergency alarm and the revolver that was mounted under the dash, he might have a chance. Fred licked his lips, he'd worked for a while in the correctional center, he knew the hand signals that well trained guides obeyed, he'd be able to control her just as well as the sentinel did. Fred smiled a little, he might even get her willing co-operation, she was too well trained to be a guide who hadn't been to the correctional center, she would know what awaited her there, just a little hint that he knew people there, just might convince her to co-operate totally with him.
As he opened his mouth to ask the guide to untie his hands, her head moved upwards and then cocked it to one side. The movement was so characteristic of a sentinel that he didn't bother at first to check out what had caught her attention.
"Help! Help! Fred, move now! Get to the alarm!"
Fred jerked his head around towards the shouting that had come from the other side of the truck. Struggling to get to his feet, he turned to the guide. "Untie me! I'll tell them that you helped..." Fred's attention was still on her when the shot rang out and he stilled in shock as the woman grimaced in pain and then clasped her hands over her ears and rocked backwards and forwards. So absorbed was he in watching her struggle not to zone that he missed the quick footsteps on the road behind him.
"Shoot him and then strip him."
Fred sucked in a breath, realizing what had just happened on the other side of the truck, but continued to stare at the woman he'd thought was a guide. She looked at him a moment, face curiously blank, and then looked past him to the gang leader. She crept up to him and placed her head on his leg. Fred watched in fascination as the man stroked the head of the docile sentinel.
"We need to bond," the gang leader said to someone on his right. "You take care of this. I won't be long."
Fred swallowed as the man walked away, followed by the sentinel, who must have topped the man by at least two or three inches, at his shoulder. In all his time in the GDP, he'd never seen...
There was a percussive noise, a brief flare of pain and then nothing.
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Mancini stroked the hair of his sentinel as she lay dozing after their bonding, curling a length of her hair around his finger and then letting it fall back against her head. She murmured slightly in her doze and began to shift uneasily. He projected calm at her, and waited until she'd settled again. Mancini idly looked at the stars, enjoying the peace and quiet. It had been a good bonding, the link between them was humming and his barriers were restored. Death close by always weakened his barriers and the time had been right for a bond. Mancini leaned his back against the improvised shelter that Meg had constructed earlier. It had amused and relaxed him to watch her build the shelter while his men were placing the tree into position. All the years he'd had her, he'd never known she knew how to do that. Suddenly his sentinel was up on her knees, growling at the darkness. Mancini reached for his gun where he'd left it during their bonding. "What is it?" The sentinel relaxed slightly, clearly recognizing the intruder "Yes?"
The footsteps stopped abruptly. "Boss..."
Mancini put his hand on his sentinel's head, "Hey, girl, it's only Stuey." He paid no further attention to his companion as she moved into the working position he'd taught her. "Everything ready, Stuey?"
Stuey stopped at the edge of the shelter, glancing at the cocked gun and the alert sentinel. "We're ready to move whenever you say, Boss."
Mancini's hand ghosted absently over his sentinel's head, the link hummed and he took strength from it. "Have you put a couple of cases in the back of the station wagon?" After the younger man had nodded, Mancini ordered, "You, Frank and Smitty go back to the compound, take the rig with you. Pete and Deke will go with me and make the deal. I'll be back up there in a few moments, be ready to go when I arrive."
Stuey nodded and left.
Mancini stretched and looked at the horizon, where the sky had just started to change color. He smiled at his night's work -- he had only expected a hundred or so cases on board the rig. Two hundred was a bonus. Maybe he would keep a few back for himself, his contacts wouldn't know anything different. He rubbed his hands together; this was it, the big deal that would make his career, make his family back east sit up and take notice. Make his father proud of him and secure his right to become right hand man. Mancini reached over and pulled the day pack to his side. He opened it up and pulled out a leash. As he wound the leather coil expertly around his sentinel, Mancini remembered the way his father had looked at him when they'd got the test results back from the discreet lab in Canada. Guide. Of course the Mancinis had not handed him over to the GDP, or to Canada, they'd even been good enough to find a sentinel for him from one of the many families that owed the Mancinis.
//
It was his sixteenth birthday and this was the first time he'd been in his father's study in six months. Six months since he'd got back from Canada with his new label -- guide. His father had moved him out of the main house into the guest house in the grounds that same day, and had kept him isolated from most of his family and friends. Now he'd been called into his presence again, Mancini wondered what the great man would have to say this time. Concentrating, he picked up on the older man's feelings, sifting through them, he found worry, a little bit of disgust, a little fear and then a small note of hopeful satisfaction.
As if something had tickled at the edge of his thoughts the older man looked up, he pushed the papers away that he'd been reading and said, "Happy Birthday, son."
Mancini broke off his examination, surprised. "Thank you, sir."
His father stood up and came around the desk. "We've got your present in the library but before you can see it, I wanted to speak to you man to man."
Mancini nodded. "Yes, sir."
"You're my eldest son and normally you would automatically be my heir and the people in our family would respect you. But you aren't normal; you're a guide. You're going to have work twice as hard, maybe three times, maybe four times, to earn their respect. Do you understand?"
Mancini flinched inside, he'd felt the tiny hesitation when his father had said, 'their', really he meant 'my'. "Yes sir," he mumbled.
The older man nodded. "When you see your present, I want you to remember that you are a Mancini. We do not kneel to anyone, only God and then only in private. In public we never kneel to anyone. Do you understand?"
Mancini nodded and almost smiled, this was a familiar recitation of his father's at the dinner table. "Yes, father." They began walking from the study to the library.
The next question of his father's surprised Mancini, "So how are your barriers holding up?"
Mancini shrugged, "Not too badly I don't think, sir. The dampeners the doctor prescribed are helping sir."
The older man nodded. "What if you didn't need them?"
"But I could only do that if..." he stopped and looked at the closed library door. "If I had a Sentinel, sir."
His father smiled distantly. "Happy birthday son. Your mother and I have been looking for one, it was a hard search to find someone compatible but we did." His face hardened. "Remember, a Mancini doesn't kneel to anyone even if he is a guide."
Mancini nodded and then looked towards the door, "But the dampener won't wear off for a day or so... I won't be able to bond before then."
His father shrugged. "It will give you time to teach the sentinel how to respect a Mancini then, won’t it?"
Mancini met his father's eyes and for once the coldness in his matched that of his father. "Yes, sir." Mancini opened the door and walked in.
//
Mancini stretched and shook the memories away. He had things to do and people to see, no time for wallowing in the past. He began to walk back to the road, Meg had built the shelter 200 yards away from the point of the hijack. His sentinel took point and he followed in her sure footsteps, knowing that she would find the smoothest and safest path through the scrub.
As Mancini drew nearer to the hijacking scene, he stopped short and ordered gruffly, "Sentinel, shield."
His sentinel came back to him and laid a hand on him. He opened up the link and gratefully sucked up the shielding she provided. The killings were too fresh for the ambient emotions to have died down; the shielding numbed the feelings of shock, surprise, terror and pain so that they were mere tugs on his emotions. He took a step forward and then stopped as his girl just stood still. Mancini watched as she gazed silently at the ground. The light wasn't yet good enough for Mancini to see what she could see but guessed it was the fresh graves that his men had dug. 'Damn her sentimentality'. He pulled on the loose end of the leash so that the wrap that had been loose to enable her to walk was now tight.
Abruptly his shielding was removed. He looked down at her, the tightening of the leash had made her fall to the ground but she stared defiantly back at him. Mancini swore internally as he debated what to do. He needed her shields, the bond had helped his barriers but the ambient emotions would soon overcome those if she didn’t continue supporting his barriers. The very last thing he needed right now was to appear weak in front of his men. "Whatever it is you want to do, do it." As he bent down to loosen the leash, he whispered in her ear, "Meg, you'll pay for this later."
He let go of the leash and watched as she moved as quickly as she could off into the brush and ferreted around for a little while and picked wild flowers. In the weak dawn light, Manicini judged that the flowers looked quite natural. Mancini smiled to himself as he felt the light touch of his girl's head once more on his leg. That was one of the differences between her and Mikey, somehow it felt more comfortable to have her head there than Mikey's. He let his hand rest on the back of her neck, he smiled as he felt her body trembling, already she was wondering what punishment he had in store for her. Then he felt her shields drop into place around him. He removed his hand and grabbed the end of the leash and tugged her upright. The light was bright enough to allow him to see the way back to the road so he took the lead.
When they walked back to the rig and station wagon, he handed the leash over to Frank. "She'll guard the rig for you when you get back to base, you three get some rest. We'll back by six tonight."
Mancini watched as his subordinate led Meg to the rear of the truck. Without prompting, she climbed into the rear of the truck followed by Frank. Smitty secured the rear doors and then climbed into the cabin followed by Stuey. Smitty switched the ignition on and put the truck into gear and drove off.
Once the truck was out of sight, Mancini felt his barriers dip. He moved to the open back of the station wagon and opened up one of the two boxes that had been placed there earlier. He removed the top layer of empty packets of Ivory Snow and grabbed at one of the tablet bottles that had been exposed. After quickly checking the label, he opened it up and shook two small tablets out. After popping the pills into his mouth, Mancini took a gulp of liquid from the bottle that Deke offered to him. Once he'd swallowed the tablets and he could feel them start to work, Mancini resealed the bottle and placed it into the breast pocket of his jacket. He'd need them later, when he punished his girl. That was another of the differences between Mikey and Meg, Mikey had understood from the start who was boss, but he'd been Family, he'd known what was expected of him. Meg had had to be taught and like a bad student punished when she forgot her lessons.
He let out a sigh as he could feel the dampener start to work. Maybe if the deal went smoothly maybe there would be a time for a relaxing beer and a girl.
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"Oh, man that was beautiful." Blair stretched out his arms as if he was trying to touch the rising sun.
"It's going to rain about eleven o'clock," announced Jim after another few minutes of silence.
Blair looked at the still clear sky but accepted what Jim had told him. It didn’t surprise him that the sentinel could forecast the weather. "Bad dream?"
"What?" Jim leaned onto the balustrade of the balcony away from the watchful gaze of his guide.
"Just wondered why you were up so early." Blair moved so that his back was against the balustrade and he could see Jim's face clearly.
"Can't I just wake up naturally early for once?"
Blair smiled. "Nope." He connected with Jim by laying his hand on Jim's chest. "Are you worried about something?"
"Can't keep anything from you can I?" Jim backed his words up with a broad grin.
"I'm your guide, Jim, you're not supposed to keep anything from me." Blair let his arm fall back to his side. He kept his gaze on Jim, determined to get to the bottom of the watchful mood that he sensed ran deep within his friend.
"It's too quiet," stated Jim. He shifted restlessly on his feet before continuing. "The clan is running smoothly for once..." Jim straightened his stance and moved back from the balustrade. "There's been no..." Jim shot an apologetic look at Blair and moved on," Dad's recovering and…"
"Trust a sentinel to get worried when there's nothing to watch over!" teased Blair. At Jim's little grimace, Blair muted the teasing tone and commented, "You haven't mentioned Major Crime and the PD."
Jim's closed expression finally cracked and seeing the joke, he chuckled. "Not much going on there either."
"You just want to get out from catching up on your paperwork," teased Blair.
Jim mock growled a little and let out a little chuckle. He leaned on the balustrade again and looked out over his city, after a few moments of companionable silence, he sighed with frustration. "I just know there's something."
Blair shook his head. Jim didn’t know the word for relaxing. "It's okay not to do anything every once in a while, Jim. Even sentinels have to have their downtime, too."
Jim looked out over the city again and blew out a big breath. "I just don't know, Sandburg, it's just like there should be something..."
Aware that his barriers had taken a beating the day before, Blair decided to take advantage of the early start. Touching Jim on the chest again to claim his attention, Blair stated, "Sentinel, claim your guide."
The pair moved back into the loft and made their way upstairs. As always, Blair knelt on the bed and the ancient ritual of bonding began.