New
Arrivals
Author-Sorcha
Titles
Stolen Goods
by Sorcha
My heartfelt thanks to Danae. She's one fast beta reader!
Comments much appreciated! There might be a sequel in store that will deal with the baddies more.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, The Sentinel and all its characters don't belong to me, but to those lucky people at Pet Fly and Paramount. (Darn!) No infringement intended. I'm already completely broke, so please don't sue.
Detective James Ellison and his young partner, Blair Sandburg, wrapped up their business in the bank and pushed out the doors onto the street. Dusk was just beginning to fall upon the city of Cascade as the two men headed down the street to where Jim's truck was parked.
"Looks like we might even make it home before the Jags game starts," Jim remarked happily after glancing at his watch. It had been a long day at work and Jim was looking forward to kicking back on the couch with a beer to watch his favourite basketball team.
Having reached the truck, Jim was about to unlock the passenger door for his friend when he stopped and turned his head slightly, listening intently.
Blair knew immediately that his Sentinel friend was tuned in to his heightened senses. "What is it?" Blair asked.
"We've got a robbery in progress, Chief."
"What?! At the bank?"
"No." Without further explanation, Jim took off down the street, Blair close behind. After dodging several pedestrians, the detective turned down an alley, pulling out his gun as he went. He slowed himself to a stop as he reached the corner which would place him, once rounded, near the back entrance of a jewellery store. Jim took out his cell phone and tossed it to Blair. "Call it in. Then *stay here*." The second part of this, Jim delivered with a stern and meaningful look to which Blair nodded.
Jim swung around the corner, his gun ahead of him. The alley was clear, as his senses had already told him, and he advanced a few paces. Then he heard the sounds of a quick approach -- footsteps and a racing heartbeat. A man burst through the back door of the jewelry store about fifteen feet in front of Jim. But the Sentinel was ready. With his gun trained on the suspect, Jim yelled, "Freeze! Police!"
The suspect froze in his tracks, his back to the police officer. Already, sirens could be hear not far off and Jim concluded that there must have been a patrol car in the area. On command, the thief dropped his gun and turned slowly to face Jim. As if on cue, the patrol car pulled into the alley and two uniforms climbed out with their guns drawn. All through this the suspect remained silent with a smug and amused look on his face.
After Ellison identified himself to them, the other officers started to approach the crook. But before they got hold of him, a voice growled from behind Jim,
"Hold it! Get away from him."
Jim quickly made sure that the other officers were still watching the Smug Man, then turned around slowly. His heart skipped a beat at the sight before him. A large man resembling an ape, and who apparently was an accomplice to the first, had his arm around Blair's neck and a gun to his head. <Oh, God. Not Sandburg.> Jim felt ill.
"Put your guns on the ground," the man ordered over Blair's head. "Now!"
Jim complied and nodded at the other two to do the same. Hoping to convey some comfort to him, Jim looked straight into his partner's big eyes, which were now full of fear. But Jim, himself, was having a hard time. He could hardly hear for the pounding of his heart in his Sentinel-sensitive ears.
The smug-looking criminal moved beside his partner. "Where's the car?" The Ape-Man motioned with his head in the direction that Jim and Blair had originally come from. The Smug Man disappeared, presumably to get the car, leaving his partner to take care of things. Jim silently cursed himself for not picking up on the second man before things could get out of hand. Jim knew he should have left Sandburg at the truck, but now it was too late.
"Get face-down on the ground." For emphasis, the crook pressed the gun hard into the side of Blair's head, making him wince.
<It's gonna be okay, buddy. Just hang in there.> Jim wished he could psychically convey his message to Blair. While moving slowly down onto his knees and lowering himself all the way to the ground, Jim tried talking to the man who was holding his friend hostage. "Just take it easy. Nobody needs to get hurt here."
"That's right," Blair's captor agreed. "Nobody'll get hurt if you just do what I tell you."
The other man pulled the car up behind his accomplice, who slowly walked backwards until he came up against the car door. Keeping the gun pressed close to Blair's head, the man released his grip on his hostage just long enough to reach behind him and open the backdoor of the car.
"Okay, just let him go now. You don't need him," Jim tried again. His voice was surprisingly calm considering how he felt inside. But he was a professional, he could handle this. He had to.
"N'uh-uh," the man slid into the backseat, pulling Blair with him. "We'll take Pretty Boy with us. . .for security." With the last words he grinned wickedly, causing Jim to shudder internally. This wasn't working out at all. The man holding Blair continued, "Now, if we so much as *suspect* that we're being followed, then...bang! Pretty Boy dies. Got that?" He pulled the door shut, and just as the car lurched into motion, Jim caught a final look at Blair's open-book eyes. Eyes that were pleading with his partner to save him. As the get-away vehicle sped off, Jim focussed on the license plate, but even with his Sentinel vision he could only get a partial.
The vehicle rounded a corner, out of sight, and Jim and the other officers jumped to their feet, retrieving their guns. A second squad car arrived at the scene, and Jim jogged over to meet the newly arrived officers. He needed to get in touch with Simon. He needed to save Blair. The Jags were forgotten.
* * *
Blair's heart was pounding so hard and painfully in his chest that he was sure it would explode, and he was uncomfortably aware of the gun which was now digging into his ribs. With closed eyes, he tried to calm himself, controlling his breathing. Little by little, it began to work and Blair opened his eyes. How long had they been driving now? Ten, fifteen minutes? It felt like hours to Blair but he knew it could only have been a few minutes.
"Maybe we should blindfold him or something." The Ape-Man poked Blair with the gun.
"What for?" The man at the wheel glanced in the rearview mirror at the two men in the backseat. "Why'd you have to bring him anyway?"
"Like I said -- for security. If we run into any trouble we can use him to get out of it."
"Security? Man, we're home free now. We don't need him. If you ask me, he's only gonna be a friggin' nuisance. Now we've gotta get rid of him somehow."
"No problem, man. As soon as we don't need him anymore, I'll waste him." The big criminal pretended to take a shot at his prisoner, making Blair flinch. <Oh, God, please. . . .> his heart began to pound again. The driver had lost his smug look. "No way. The deal was we do the job, get the money, and take off. I don't want them adding murder to my ‘wanted' poster."
"Okay, okay. So we don't kill him. But you've gotta admit we made a great catch. I think he's a friend of that cop. I found him waiting around the corner."
"What?! Vince, you freakin' idiot, *he's* probably a cop. Do you know what you've got us into?"
"Relax, man. He doesn't look like no cop." He prodded the young man with the gun. "Hey, you a cop, Pretty Boy?"
Blair tried to lean away from the leering face, but he came back with an answer. "As a matter of fact, I am. And that plainclothes officer is my partner." Blair picked up steam. "There's no way you'll get away with this. My partner won't stop till he finds me, then he'll take you down." Momentarily, Sandburg wondered if this was such a good idea after all. This same lie had got him in trouble before.
"Oh, shit. *Shit*." The driver was really agitated now. <Well,> Blair thought, <if nothing else, at least I was convincing.> Even the big ape of a man sitting beside Blair was starting to look unsure of himself. But then he regained his composure and tried to calm down the driver. "Relax, Craig. Everything'll still go as planned."
"It better."
An hour later, the car came to a stop. Now blindfolded, as he had been since they'd reached the outskirts of the city, Blair had no idea where they were. He listened and found he could hear no sounds of traffic or other people, only a few birds.
<Great,> Blair thought. <We're probably way out in the Boonies where no one will ever find us. Where no one will ever find me. Or my body.> He grimaced at that last thought but then felt a shock of pain as one of the men grabbed a handful of his curls and yanked him out of the car. The grip on his hair remained as Blair was pushed up some stairs and into a building.
A rough shove sent Sandburg stumbling forward until he hit a wall and crashed to the floor. He remained lying on his side, waiting for his captors to make their next move. A hand pulled the bandana off Blair's eyes and he found himself staring at the now familiar sight of a gun.
"Get up," the man Blair now knew to be Craig, ordered. The Anthropologist did as he was told and the other man backed off slightly, keeping the gun trained on his prisoner.
Glancing around, Sandburg found that they were in the kitchen of an old house. Craig and his ape-like partner, Vince, were the only other people around.
"Should we tie him up?" Vince asked, referring to Blair.
"Nah. Just lock him in the upstairs bathroom. He'll never break out of there. And besides, that way he won't be bothering us every time he's gotta piss."
The Ape-Man grunted in agreement and made a move for Blair. <Please, not my hair again,> the young man silently begged. His head was still hurting from the last time. Sandburg almost sighed with relief when the man grabbed a handful of his jacket in order to force him up a narrow set of stairs.
They reached the second level and, after walking only a few feet down a dim hallway, Blair was once again shoved unceremoniously into a room. A bathroom. The door slammed shut and Blair heard noises from what sounded like a heavy object being moved in front of the door. Then there were receding footsteps as Vince returned downstairs.
"Great. This is just great," Sandburg said out loud, standing in the darkness of the bathroom. Feeling along the wall by the door, he managed to find the light switch. He flicked it on and, now being able to see, surveyed his new quarters. One thing was for sure, Blair wouldn't be making an escape through the window. It was so tiny that he could barely stick his head out of it, which he did. The Guide was trying to get an idea of the house's surroundings in hopes of figuring out where they were. Unfortunately, the night was cloudy and dark, preventing him from seeing anything.
With a sigh, he drew his head back inside and closed the window. He wouldn't be going anywhere tonight. <Well, at least it's clean,> he thought, looking around the room. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Sandburg closed his eyes and tilted his head back. His long day at work and the stress of this latest incident had caught up with him, leaving him exhausted.
He stood up again, considering his options. The floor space was very narrow while the bathtub was quite spacious. "Why not?" Blair shrugged and flicked off the light. Using his jacket as a pillow, he settled down in the tub to get some sleep. Before he drifted off, Blair whispered into the darkness, "Jim, man, I can't wait for you to show up."
* * *
Sitting at his desk, Captain Simon Banks removed his glasses and massaged his temples. Until they figured out who the two thugs were that took Blair, they didn't have much to go on. All they knew was that the robbery had most likely been committed to fill a particular order. The shopkeeper at the jewelry store had told officers that the man who had held him up had asked to see a particular ring before producing his gun. They hadn't taken anything else, except Sandburg.
Simon sighed tiredly and replaced his glasses as the door opened. Jim stuck his head in the office, then entered, closing the door behind him, when he saw that he wasn't interrupting his captain.
"Simon, I've ID'd the two guys." He handed two computer printouts to his boss.
"Vincent Nelson and Craig Walters," Simon read. "I've never heard of them before, have you?"
"No, Sir."
"You have any idea who they could be working for?"
"I'm working on that. Now that we've got their names we can start asking around."
Banks nodded. Jim moved to leave the office but Simon stopped him momentarily. "Jim, how're you holding up in all this?" he asked with concern evident in his voice.
Ellison's jaw tensed visibly. "As soon as we get Sandburg home safely I'll be fine." The Detective left the office without another word. He had to find his Guide.
* * *
At 9:30 the next morning, Jim was staring blankly at his computer screen, his eyes burning. Shaking himself out of the fog which threatened to overtake him, he scolded himself, <Get it together, Ellison. Drifting off isn't going to help Blair any.>
He stood, planning to get a fresh cup of coffee, when Ryf jogged over to him. "Jim, good news. We found out from an informant that Nelson and Walters are working for a woman by the name of Karla Gates."
"Karla Gates? Wasn't she the prime suspect in that jewel robbery case last year?"
"Yeah, that's the one. I'll tell the captain."
"Thanks, Ryf. That was good work." Jim sat back down at his desk as Ryf headed for the captain's office. Finally they had more to go on. <Hang on, buddy. I'll find you.>
* * *
Blair groaned and rolled over. When had his bed become so hard? Then he remembered-- he was sleeping in a bathtub and there were two freaks downstairs with guns that were going to do God-knows-what to him.
Sandburg sat up, there was something different -- a third voice. Straining his ears, the anthropologist could make out the sounds of a woman conversing with his captors. He tried to make out the words being said, but couldn't, and soon gave up.
Blair climbed out of the tub, yawned, and looked at his watch. He was shocked to see that it read after nine-thirty. <Whoa, how'd I manage to sleep so late in that hard thing?> He stretched out sore muscles and splashed cold water on his face. Then he cupped his hands and had a drink. Man, he was starving. Blair hadn't eaten since lunch the day before. But he was at the mercy of the crooks downstairs so, after relieving himself, he sat on the counter to wait.
About half an hour later a door slammed and a car started, then moved off into the distance. <The mystery lady must have made her exit,> Blair thought. Soon, footsteps could be heard out on the stairs and, a moment later, the object blocking the door was dragged aside. <I hope they're bringing me breakfast.>
Sandburg wasn't that lucky, however, as Craig hadn't brought any food. The thug grabbed the back of Blair's shirt and the young man had only enough time to grab his jacket before he was dragged from the bathroom.
"Hey, take it easy!" Blair exclaimed as Craig yanked him over to the top of the stairs.
"Shut up," the man growled and gave Blair a shove that sent him crashing down the stairs.
He rolled and bounced painfully to the bottom where he came to rest, slightly dazed. But he was quickly snapped out of it as rough hands grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. Blair felt a stinging on his forehead and thought he could feel blood trickling down his face. He didn't have time to investigate this though, because the next thing he knew he was being blindfolded again and forced to walk out of the house and to the car.
"We're going for a little trip," Craig hissed in Blair's ear as he encouraged him, by using the butt of his gun as a prod, to get in the car. As the door slammed and the engine started, Blair felt himself fill with dread. How was Jim supposed to find him if they didn't stay put? They had only driven for a few minutes when the car stopped and Blair was hauled out of the backseat. He was forced to walk ahead of his captor, and he stumbled repeatedly as they made their way across uneven ground. <Oh, God. Maybe they're going to execute me.> Out loud Sandburg asked, "Where're you taking me?"
"Oh, no where much," came the reply. "Just far enough so as to buy us some time."
Then they stopped and Blair was pushed to the ground. He was held down by one of the men while the other tied up his hands and feet.
"There, that should hold him up for a while." The two men left Blair and started to walk away.
"Hey, where're you going?" Sandburg called after them.
"Seattle, Pretty Boy," one of the men laughed. "Then we're heading somewhere hot. Someplace where you and your partner will never find us. If your partner ever finds *you*, that is."
"Great," Blair mumbled as the footsteps and laughter died off in the distance leaving him alone.
* * *
Detective Ellison reread what was before him on the computer screen with growing hope. He grabbed a pencil and scribbled notes down on a scrap piece of paper. That done, he jumped up from his desk and jogged over to Captain Banks' office.
Jim barged in without knocking but, seeing the look on the detective's face, Simon didn't comment. Instead, he asked, "What've you got, Jim?"
"There's some property south east of the city belonging to Karla's brother. He's been out of the country for the past month, and I'm thinking that this could be a possible hide-out for the people we're looking for."
"You think that's where Blair could be?" Banks asked unnecessarily.
"It's worth a try."
"All right, let's get on it right away." Simon stood.
"I'm going out there personally, Sir."
"I'll come too. Let's get a team together and hit the road."
Jim didn't need any more encouragement. He was out the door before Simon had even realized that he'd left.
* * *
Using his knees to nudge at the bandana, Blair was soon able to get it off his eyes. With a shake of his head, the blindfold dropped to hang loosely around his neck. Looking around, he found that he was in a copse of trees, but it wasn't very dense and he could make out the sight of the road not too far off. He struggled with his bonds for a few minutes but couldn't loosen them. Twisting and manoeuvring, Blair was finally able to get his Swiss Army knife out of his pocket. He sawed at the ropes which were holding his wrists together behind his back, praying that he wouldn't cut himself.
Finally, the ropes were cut and his hands were free to untie his ankles. Scrambling up from the ground, Blair quickly headed for the road. His single purpose was to somehow get to Jim, but when he got to the road he stopped. There were no houses in sight. "All right," he told himself, "you'll just have to start walking." He was about to take a step when he stopped again. "And Cascade would be. . .which way?"
Looking up at the sky, Blair continued to think out loud. "Okay, you can figure this out, Sandburg. The sun's over there and it's not quite noon, so that would mean that east is in that general direction." He looked over at a forest. "And when I wasn't blindfolded we were heading south out of the city, so maybe I should be heading. . .that way." He spun around to find himself staring in a direction which the road didn't head. "Okay, okay. There's just two choices, Sandburg, left or right." Deciding that going right was the closest to his first approximation, he started off down the side of the road. With a sigh, he said, "Just watch, Sandburg, you'll probably end up in Canada."
* * *
Jim sped along in his truck, followed by Simon's car and two other units. With sirens blaring and lights flashing they had made good time, but it still wasn't fast enough for Ellison. They finally reached the last leg of the trip and Jim stepped down a bit harder on the accelerator.
As he rounded a bend, Jim spotted something at the side of the road, about half a mile up ahead. Zooming in with his vision, the Sentinel confirmed what he'd been thinking. After covering the distance quickly, Jim pulled the truck to a halt and jumped out, jogging over to Blair.
"Chief! Are you all right?" As he reached his partner, Jim put his hands on Blair's shoulders, looking him over.
"Jim, man, am I glad to see you!" Sandburg exclaimed. He knew that everything would be all right now that Jim was there.
One of Jim's hands had moved up to Blair's forehead to the cut he'd sustained when he fell down the stairs. "Chief, you're hurt."
"It's nothing, I'm fine." Blair waved him off.
Jim brushed some of Blair's curls aside. "It doesn't look too bad but let's get it cleaned and bandaged anyway, okay, Chief?"
"Sure, Jim." Blair allowed himself to be led over to the vehicles. He sat down on the edge of the truck's bed and waited while Jim talked with Simon and the other officers while retrieving a first aid kit.
Soon Jim was back, followed by Simon, and began cleaning Blair's cut. While Jim mothered over him, Sandburg explained to the two cops what had happened and what he knew of the crooks' plans. "They said they were heading to Seattle, then somewhere hot."
"I'll get some people on it right away," Banks assured the young man.
As Jim finished placing a bandage on the wound, Simon moved back over to the other cops. Ellison place his hands on Blair's shoulders again. "Are you sure you're okay, Sandburg?"
"I'm fine, Jim. Really."
"For sure?"
"Well, actually, Jim. . ."
"What?" worry jumped into Jim's voice.
"I'm starving," Blair finished with a grin.
Jim rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Chief. We'll head straight back to the city and get you something to eat." He gave his partner's shoulder a squeeze before moving around the truck to climb into the driver's seat. Turning the truck around, they headed back to Cascade, leaving the other officers to continue out to the house where Blair had been held.
* * *
Back at the loft that evening, Blair was showered, fed, and genuinely glad to be home. He was washing up the dinner dishes while Jim dried and for the past few minutes they had been sharing a companionable silence. Jim wiped off the last dish and moved to put it away in its proper cupboard while Blair started to drain the dish water. With a sudden urge to stir things up a bit, Blair scooped up a handful of soap suds. As Jim turned back from the cupboard, Sandburg blew hard, sending the soap suds flying into Jim's face.
For a second, the cop stood still. Then he slowly and deliberately used the towel he was holding to wipe away the suds. Slinging the towel over his shoulder, he put his hands on his hips and tried giving Sandburg a stern look, but he was obviously fighting a grin. "Trying to start something here, are you, Sandburg?"
Blair took a step back out of the kitchen, raising his hands. "No, man. Just trying to have a bit of fun."
"Fun?" Jim slowly advanced toward his partner, driving the younger man into the living room, "Well, that's a bit of fun that you're going to have to pay for."
"What! Come on, Jim, it was just a bit of soap." By this time Blair was walking quickly backwards in the direction of the balcony doors. With Jim's longer strides closing in the distance, Blair took his only chance and dodged around the couch, placing the piece of furniture between them. "Ha! Try and get me now, Big Guy."
"You think you're so smart, don't you?" Jim asked his partner who was grinning in an amusing self-satisfied way.
"Maybe," Blair replied, still smiling.
Jim crossed his arms over his chest. "All right, Sandburg. We can stand here like this all night or you can just come over here and willingly accept your punishment."
"Yeah right, man. You're gonna have to catch me."
"Suit yourself." Jim was now smiling smugly. He had picked up the sound of footsteps in the hall and the familiar smell of Simon's cigars. He waited for the Captain to knock on the door before making his move. When the knock came, Blair automatically looked at the door, taking his attention off Jim. That was all the opening Ellison needed. Vaulting over the couch, he grabbed Blair and pulled him into a gentle, yet firm, headlock. "Gotcha!"
"Oh, man! That was *not* fair!" Blair complained.
"All's fair in love and war, Chief." Jim replied and moved to the door with Blair still in the headlock.
The smaller man tugged unsuccessfully at the arm around his neck. "You're not gonna answer the door like this, are you?" he asked in a voice that said he already knew the answer.
"Of course I am." With that, Jim opened the door to the Captain. "Good evening, Simon," he greeted amiably, as if it were perfectly normal to answer the door while holding your partner in a headlock.
"Am I interrupting something?" Banks asked, recognizing that Jim was in a somewhat silly mood.
"Not at all," Jim replied while Blair tried tugging at his arm again. "Come on in."
"Ah, no thanks, Jim. I'm on my way home but I just wanted to let you guys know that we've got Nelson and Walters in custody, and we're on Gates' trail."
"Oh, hey, that's great," Blair piped up. "But are you sure you don't want to come in? I mean, I could use a bit of help here." He rolled his eyes upward to indicate he was talking about Jim.
"Sorry, Sandburg, you're on your own. I know when to not interfere." Banks turned to leave.
"What! Oh, come on, Simon. You've gotta help me!" Blair squirmed as he begged, but Jim's hold remained firm.
Simon continued down the hall, shaking his head slightly. <They must have been eating one of Sandburg's strange concoctions> the captain thought, wondering what could have gotten into the two men he was leaving behind.
"‘Night, Simon," Jim called, then closed the door.
Blair pulled once again at Jim's arm. "Uh, Jim, you can let go now."
"I'll be the judge of that."
"Oh, right," Blair rolled his eyes. "I forgot I was dealing with Mr. Power Freak, Mr. Must-Be-In-Control."
"What was that?" Ellison tightened his grip slightly, although still being careful to not hurt his friend.
"You heard me."
"Of course I did. I just thought you might like to take it back."
"No way, man."
"All right, Sandburg. Have it your way." Removing his arm from around Blair's neck, Jim hoisted the smaller man up until he was hanging over his shoulder.
"Jim! Come on, man, let me down!" Blair pounded Jim's back with his fists to no avail. Sometimes there were serious drawbacks to Jim's superior strength.
The taller man carried Blair into the living area where he dumped him onto the couch. As Sandburg tried to scramble up, Jim pushed him back down. "Sit," Jim commanded, then sat down beside his friend.
"Hey, man, I'm not a dog."
"Oh, no? I think we've been through that one before, Chief."
Blair rolled his eyes, then sighed. He guessed that he'd just have to put up with Jim's silly mood. After all, he'd got himself into this and anyhow, Jim in a silly mood was much preferable to Jim in a bad mood. Much preferable. "Okay, Oh Wise One, what's my punishment?"
Jim settled more comfortably into the cushions and grabbed the television remote. "My choice of tv all night."
"Like that's any different than usual," Blair sighed, receiving a glare from Jim in return. "All right, all right," he threw up his hands. "But I draw the line at the home shopping network."
Jim chuckled. "Deal."
A few minutes later, Blair turned his eyes away from the movie that was playing to find Jim grinning sideways at him. "What?" he asked the detective.
Still smiling, Jim replied, "I'm just glad you're home, Chief."
Blair grinned. "Yeah, me too, Jim."
The End