Many thanks to Cee for the edits and suggestions.
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"Sentinel Prime Edwards?"
Edwards turned towards the unfamiliar voice and saw that it was Sentinel Walton. Matching the formality, Edwards replied warily, "Sentinel?"
Walton held out his hand, "I have to thank you for the temporary loan of your guide earlier. He … I was a bit over wrought. Mark and I haven't been apart since we bonded; it hit me hard."
Edwards nodded. "I understand that. You've had something to eat?"
Walton nodded. "Captain Bank's secretary Rhonda took me down to the restaurant. You have much better facilities then…" Walton stopped and ran a hand over his thinning hair. "I'd like to be of some help in the investigation, but Curtis said I'd be better off resting away from here but …" Walton shrugged, "I guess I'd better take her advice."
Edwards was about to reply when he saw Jim come into the bullpen clutching a file. Seeing Walton look at him questioningly, Edwards said, "The Senior Prime is here. Let's see what he has to say."
Jim saw the two sentinels standing face to face and, despite the headache he’d acquired from having to badger Curtis for the full details of the few forensic files from the scene, went over to them. "Sentinels, anything I can help you with?" "Sentinel Walton has offered his services to the investigation," Edwards said.
Jim raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn’t you be doing that upstairs?" "I offered this morning before I came down here. Curtis said I should be resting," Walton answered.
Jim didn't react directly to that remark but asked instead, "Better now?"
The sentinel nodded. "Since the Prime loaned me the services of his guide, everything's much more … in balance, not perfect but better."
Jim smiled, "Good." He looked at the man; the military style creases in his clothes were looking a little rumpled, somehow giving him a softer edge. "Blair told me you were over here to be interviewed for a vacancy at GDP headquarters."
Walton paused for a moment; he was trying to work out what the Senior Prime wanted. He answered truthfully, "Yes, one of their investigative teams lost one of their members a few months back in an accident. The post was directly equivalent to the one I hold back in New York."
Interested that the man wasn't moving for a promotion, Jim asked, "Why did you want the change?"
Walton shrugged, "I'd heard good things about how things were changing here. New York is a bit of a backwater. Mark heard about the opportunity on the grapevine. We discussed it a little and decided that we should give it a try."
Jim regarded the sentinel for a moment or two; Jim could tell he was speaking the truth. He glanced at Edwards and saw that his deputy was thinking the same thing. Making the decision, Jim gave Smith the forensic file and said, "Go through this and see if there’s anything that has been missed. I'm looking in particular for any records of tracks or anything else that might give us a clue about either their transport or direction away from the scene. Edwards, keep an eye on the weather reports. As soon as they forecast a drop in the wind start putting together a team."
Edwards smiled wolfishly. "It will be my pleasure, Prime."
"Meanwhile, I'm going to find some Tylenol, a dark room, and some quiet for a few minutes." Jim rubbed his face. "Curtis was worse than any fed I've known for not disclosing information."
"It’s something we get taught on the training program," Walton commented jokingly. Then his expression grew serious. "Did you know Smith and I trained together? We did our first few assignments together too." He looked down at the file. "Better get working or else even if the wind drops, we won't have a clue where to start looking."
"I'll find a spare desk, bring you up to date with what we have so far," Edwards told Walton.
Jim watched the pair settle at an empty desk. The presence of the unfamiliar sentinel in his territory added to the tension he felt in his body. He headed to the break room and temporarily closed the door on the world.
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Tina shivered. Her knees were aching and she was hungry. She lifted her head a fraction, as much as the leash would allow her to, and looked around. The guard was helping himself to some coffee so his back was turned to her. Tina lifted her gaze to the kitchen window; she could tell from the fading light that it was getting towards late afternoon. Suddenly the outer door opened sending a blast of wind and rain into the kitchen. Tina ducked her head down again not wanting to draw attention to herself. Maybe she could learn something, something to help Blair and the others.
Deke went straight over to the coffeepot and poured a cup for himself and one for Pete who had been outside with him. Once he'd slurped a couple of mouthfuls, he asked, "Where's the boss?"
Stuey inclined his head in the direction of Meggie's room, "Still in there. Got rid of the body?"
Deke nodded, "Yeah. Just about, the water was filling up the hole almost as fast as we were digging it." He took another slurp of coffee and then remarked, "Never seen her like that. Have you?"
Stuey shook his head but Pete joined in the conversation, "I have. She was like that when the boss first bonded with her. Every time the boss bonded with her for the first few weeks, we had to leash her. She would have killed him otherwise."
"Why couldn't the boss have waited to find another sentinel?” Stuey asked, “I mean he uses the dampeners often enough nowadays."
Pete shook his head, "Mickey was shot and the boss's barriers were all gone. We got him back to the hideout okay but he was sinking. Then he sensed her. She must have come online or whatever it is that they do. Took four of us to hold her down while the boss bonded; we didn't have any leashes on us. The boss didn’t need one with Mickey. It saved the boss though, the bonding."
Tina tried to close her ears to the rest of the conversation. She didn't need to have it spelled out what particular twist the mobster had added to the bonding ritual. She concentrated on focusing on the cold floor beneath her knees and becoming as invisible as possible.
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Edwards was impressed as Walton began to make notes as Edwards summarised the information they had so far on the dampener heist and the links to Mancini that had led them to the surmise that Meggie Courcy and Mancini had led the kidnapping of the guides. He'd just started to describe the circumstances relating to the actual kidnapping when Walton spoke up. "Did you say 'Meggie Courcy'?"
"Yes, did you know her?"
Walton shook his head. "Not exactly. Her father is one of the biggest businessmen in the state. The GDP station commander offered the help of our unit when she was kidnapped, but Courcy declined the offer. But I know of him before then." Walton rubbed his temple. "I was just out of training school, my first assignment. Smith was there too. We raided a commune in upper state New York. My job was to guard Roger Courcy. He was there too." Walton frowned. "The job went really bad, lots of people including children died." Walton looked down at the desk. He clenched his hands together for a moment. "Still get nightmares sometimes about it. The higher ups told us to forget about it." He looked up at Edwards. "How do you explain to a normal that with your sentinel senses, if you've got your hearing wide open, then you can hear the bullets hitting flesh, tearing it, the breathing as it falters and…."
"Sentinel, breathe for me now, breathe. That's it, nice big slow breaths." Without looking to Edwards for permission, David placed an arm around the shoulders of the distressed man. "It’s only a memory, only a memory. Nice big slow breaths."
Edwards looked on carefully as David soothed the distressed sentinel. His guide was looking strained. Once Sandburg and the others had been found, Edwards promised himself that he'd take a week off to make sure David was rested and their bond secure. He shifted his position, prompting David to glance at him. Edwards asked, "Do you think he needs to rest?"
Walton growled at Edwards before David could speak. "I'll rest once Mark is back with me; not before."
David, sensing that his sentinel was about to challenge Walton, stepped around the desk and grabbed hold of Edwards' shirt. David whispered, "Sentinel, claim your guide."
Edwards looked at David and then Walton and then back at David. His guide was calling to him. He nodded at the door and growled, "Let's go." The pair left the bullpen.
Walton swallowed. If that was the power of the Panther's deputy and his guide, then the rumors that had been circulating within the GDP may just be right. He looked down at the papers on his desk; Meggie Courcy and Mancini had picked the wrong people to screw with. He got back to the weary task of finding a clue to the pair's hideout.
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Simon put down the phone and tapped it, thinking about the news the caller had given him. Jim would like to know, and he had the contacts to arrange swift transportation back to Cascade. Simon half smiled at the thought of a pissed off Hunter on a packed flight. Then he frowned; no, it wasn't a good picture. He rose from his chair and entered the bullpen just in time to see the back of Edwards leaving the bullpen. He also heard the collective sigh of relief. His eyes flickered across to the normally empty spare desk and saw Walton sifting through some papers. Guessing that the sentinel had been recruited onto the task force, Simon made his way over to him.
Walton heard the man coming and looked up. Before Simon had a chance to speak, Walton pointed in the direction of the break room and said, "The Senior Prime is in there. He had a headache. Sentinel Prime Edwards is bonding."
"Thanks," Simon said. He paused and asked, "What have they got you working on?"
Walton indicated the files with a sweep of his hands. "The original GDP forensic files. I’m just checking for any connections that may have been missed; any indication where the hideout is."
Simon nodded absently and commented, "Dan Slater and Jim pored over the information for two weeks with no results."
Walton bristled slightly and retorted, "You never know when a fresh eye might come in handy. To be honest, I'm surprised that you say that."
Simon arched his eyebrows but merely said, "Oh?"
Walton shook his head. "If I'd seen this file before the seminar, I never would have let Mark go. I'm very surprised that the Senior Prime allowed it to go ahead. As for Commander Slater, it was very lax from a man in his position."
Simon licked his lips and wondered for a moment or two whether the sentinel was serious. Deciding from the glowering expression on Walton's face that he was, Simon said, "We'll discuss your thoughts with Jim once I've spoken to him. I hope you can back up what you say. You do know that he's a dark sentinel?"
Walton stood up to meet Simon's implied challenge. He snarled right back, "Ordinary sentinels can be just as dangerous. Anyway, if this is the standard of Cascade's finest .…"
Simon bit back the reply that formed in his mind. Instead he acidly shot back, "My office, five minutes." Without looking to see whether Walton agreed to it or not, Simon headed off towards the break room.
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Curtis pulled her raincoat around her to keep the wind and rain off her uniform as she made her way towards the car through the parking lot of Cascade General Hospital. When she reached the car, she snuck a glance up at the Sentinel floor and smiled. It had been pathetically easy to get in to see Sentinel Smith and spin him the tale as she'd been instructed to do but she never thought that he'd fall for it so easily. She grinned as she remembered when her pet dog had died when she was nine, her daddy had told her it had just gone to sleep and she'd believed him, until she was a year or two older. Smith was just like that child, ready to believe anything that would ease the hurt. He'd almost snatched the keys the lockup and the four wheel drive car she'd dangled in front of his nose. Curtis idly wondered whether Smith would take the working guide with him on his forthcoming country drive. She then dismissed the thought; it wasn't important in the overall scheme of things; no guide was.
She seated herself behind the wheel of her car and glanced at the clock on the dash. Reasoning that Ellison wouldn't be finished reading the forensics file yet, and until he'd done that, he and the rest of the police department wouldn't notice her absence, she picked up her microphone. "Patch me into Watts."
When Watts replied, Curtis told the young officer that she was following up a lead from one of her informants and so would be out of contact for the next two hours at least. Curtis smiled as the young officer swallowed the story. She replaced the microphone and started her car. Curtis decided that she'd have enough time to have a swim, sauna and maybe a massage at her new very discreet and expensive health club.
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Simon didn't offer Walton a cup of coffee as he poured cups out for himself and Jim. "Jim," Simon paused and then went on more formally, "Detective Ellison has two calls to make and then he will be in." Walton nodded, not changing his serious and disapproving expression. Simon smiled to himself as he thought, 'Sandburg would kick himself for missing the opportunity of seeing the two Sentinels interact. Both guideless and the challenger being in another's territory.' Simon shook his head to clear it. He needed to be impartial and businesslike; if there were problems with the heist investigation and the subsequent security plans for the seminar, then it could have enormous implications for the future positions of both men. If Walton was wrong, then he could end up with a major bloodbath in his office. As it was, he knew Jim was balancing on a knife-edge; if Walton pushed Ellison over the edge, then he could have a bloodbath anyway. There was no guide available to pull the Dark Sentinel back from the brink.
"That coffee for me?" Jim's voice intruded into Simon's thoughts.
Simon coughed and said, "Yeah. That mocha I had last month. You said you liked it."
Jim nodded and reached for the cup. "Thanks. Steven's sending the jet over to DC. It should be ready to return any time after midnight or earlier if the CDC get sick… release Hunter and Sarah early."
Simon let a brief smile illuminate his face. "You speak to him?"
Jim rolled his eyes. "My dear brother is in marvellous form. I'm glad I'm not at the airport when he sees it's an Ellison jet."
Simon choked a little on his coffee as that image played through his mind. He was about to comment when Walton's voice interrupted.
The sentinel acidly commented, "When you've finished swapping family news, I'd like to get in on this investigation."
Jim's expression turned serious and stiff as he turned to the stranger in his territory. His eyes narrowed and his tongue quickly dampened his lips. He drew his lips back over his teeth. "Ah, the investigation. Simon?"
Simon registered the change in Jim's face and suppressed the shudder; this was the predator who was in search of prey, and sitting right in the corner of this room was a target. He said, "Lets sit down and discuss this."
Jim chose a seat directly opposite Walton. Simon noticed that Walton too had changed; the sentinel's expression becoming more flat and unreadable by the second. Simon had to admit that the sentinel, instead of refusing to meet the Prime's gaze, simply gazed back. The man wasn't acting as though he knew he was prey.
Jim was the first to break the resulting silence. "What is it that you accuse me of, Sentinel?"
Walton stated, "You and your other clan leaders together with Commander Slater guaranteed the safety of the guides. Smith and I trusted your judgement. Reading this file it would appear that my, our trust, was unfounded."
The room temperature seemed to drop several degrees. The tone of Jim's voice reflected the drop. Icily calm, he commented, "It might have missed your attention that my guide was among those taken."
Walton came straight back. "That was what astonished me. You and the Guide Prime are renowned for the apparent strength of your bond; that you appeared to be changing things, at least in Cascade, for the better. I was reluctant, as no doubt Smith was, to allow my guide away from me in a strange place. I relied on the fact that you would be as careful with your guide as I was with mine. Reading this file," Walton put his hand on the bulging GDP file, "has made me realise that trust was misplaced."
Jim pushed his chair back and stood up. He leaned over the table so he was right in Walton's face. "You dare suggest that I have been careless with my guide?"
Walton stood up and yelled back at Jim, "My guide's not a dark guide. He's never been away from my side for more than a few hours since we bonded. He'd never be able to stand up to…. There are reasons we have to protect them."
Jim moved closer, all reason gone and yelled, "You challenging me? You challenging me? "
Simon stood up. "Jim…."
Jim turned to Simon and waved him away. He snarled at his captain. "Just establishing the ground rules." Turning back to Walton, "Well, I'm waiting for an answer."
Walton clenched his jaw and glared at Jim for a few moments. Then he finally said, "I'm not challenging you." Jim shifted on his feet. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the other sentinel. Walton said levelly, "I'm not going down on my knees before you either; that's earned."
Simon swallowed. He had to admire the sentinel's bravery, but he didn't think that the Dark Sentinel would stand for that. Fearing violence, Simon began to slowly back away towards his desk where he could call for back up. He backed into a chair and let out a small 'oof'. Both sentinels broke off their glaring match and focused on him. Simon felt distinctly uncomfortable. He was familiar with the Dark Sentinel, but the other sentinel's gaze was just as flat and as cold.
"Going somewhere, Simon?" Jim asked icily.
Simon opened his mouth to explain and then thought, 'this is my damn office and one of my detectives is asking me what I'm doing in it?' He slammed his mouth shut and then opened it again. "Back to sit behind my desk and then I'm going to ask the head of the task force for an update." He paused and then said, "I damn well hope there's an update. And then we'll listen to what GDP officer-"
”Captain actually,” muttered Walton.
Simon seamlessly amended, "Captain Walton has to say." He looked at the two sentinels, challenging them to say or do anything otherwise.
Jim just clenched his jaw and stared back at Simon. Walton glanced at the Prime and then back at Simon. He nodded and then sat down. Jim pointedly waited until Walton was seated before he nodded and sat down.
Simon smothered his sigh of relief; he knew the spilling of blood had only just been avoided. "So, Jim, any progress?"
Jim shrugged. "Nothing specific. We can’t move until we know where Mancini is holed up. It’s a large area we're going to have to cover and even with sentinel night vision we'll need to be looking in the right area. I obtained the full files of both this case and the heist to see if we could locate it from those." He glanced at Walton. "I left that task in the care of Walton here. Pais still hasn't come back to me about those plates."
Simon nodded. It was just like the heist case, no leads, no nothing. He rammed his hand down on the table and glared at Walton, "Well, I hope you've got something more concrete than a bunch of accusations." Simon heard a low growl and he automatically looked at Jim. Jim arched his eyebrows and inclined his head in Walton's direction. Simon sighed. Trying to calm the sentinel down, he said, "Major Crimes, my command, has the best detectives and the best clear up rate in the state."
Walton took a moment to marshal his thoughts and then he leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "I'm sorry, Captain Banks, but from what I've read here and what has happened since, that isn't apparent."
Jim interrupted before Simon could explode asking, "So what did I miss?"
"The security instructions were very explicit that the vehicles once on the road were not to stop, so why did they stop?"
Jim shrugged. "They could have been ambushed while they were moving, brought to a stop that way."
Walton shook his head. "The placement of the bodies at the scene doesn't indicate that. The vehicles all appear to have come to a normal stop."
Simon leaned forward. "So what are you saying? They came to a stop and then were attacked? We know that."
Jim looked at Walton thoughtfully. After a few moments, he said, "Dan and I went over those plans with the men on escort duty four times. The only thing they would stop for is a -."
Walton completed Jim's statement. "GDP patrol."
Simon looked at his two detectives. "So Mancini and Meggie Courcy got hold of some GDP uniforms."
Walton shook his head, "All uniforms have to be accounted for. The drivers in the vehicles would know how to spot a fake; they'd especially be cautious given who they were escorting." Both Jim and Simon remained silent. Walton carried on, "So it was with interest that I found that Mancini had already gotten hold of some uniforms." He looked at Jim. "I can't understand how you didn't account for that in the security plan."
Jim frowned. "What? When?"
Walton shrugged. He shoved the file at Jim. "It doesn't say so in there, but the coroner's initial examination of the guard's bodies at the place where they were uncovered, specifically states that the bodies were dressed in their underclothes and nothing more."
Jim read the file report and shook his head. He looked across at Walton and then Simon. He stated, "This wasn't in the report that I saw. That stated…" Jim paused while he gathered his thoughts. "That report just stated the estimated time of death, probable cause, and the identity of each victim." He looked at the summary, "In other words this summary." His face became grim.
"Do you still have the original file?" Walton asked.
Jim rubbed his temple, his headache beginning to return. "The original file? Yeah, I do. It’s on my desk somewhere."
"I'll get Rhonda to get it," Simon said. He got up and crossed to the door of his office. As he opened the door he stepped back as he saw Lisa Pais standing there with a piece of paper in her hand. She had a grim expression on her face. Simon jerked a thumb in the direction of the two sentinels and stated, "He's waiting for you." Lisa nodded and then pushed past Simon. Shaking his head, Simon moved across to his secretary.
TBC
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