The Sentinel belongs to Pet Fly. No copyright infringement intended.
Note: The story is pretty much done. I'll be sending out the epilogue in a day or two. Thanks to those who have been reading. I hope you enjoyed it.
Part IV
"Attention! Attention! This is Captain Simon Banks of the Cascade Police Department. Identify yourselves!"
Blair's eyes flashed opened when he heard Simon's voice on the bullhorn. His sigh of relief caught the attention of the other hostages and he motioned them closer.
Almost immediately, his ex-student knelt beside him. "What is it, Teach?"
"Captain Banks," the prone man shivered, suddenly cold. "He's out there. This will be over...soon."
"I hope so, man. For your sake as well as ours." Tommy adjusted the towels around Blair.
The guide shifted restlessly, trying to free himself from the makeshift blankets. There was no time for that. Besides, his arm no longer hurt which meant he could do something. He had to do something.
"Sir, I gotta keep you warm," Tommy protested. "Your body's gone into shock."
"No, s'okay." Blair responded. "Help me up. I have to get to Jim. He needs me. Can't stay in the freezer for very much longer." He continued to ineffectually push at the hands holding him down. Urgency was building within him. It was imperative he get to Jim, even if he had to crawl.
"Please, sir. Mr. Sandburg. Blair." Tommy desperately tried to keep the other man still. "Don't--"
"What the hell is going on here?" A voice boomed, causing everyone to jump.
Blair stopped pushing at Tommy's hands and turned fevered eyes upon their captor. "You...aren't going to get away with this. They've got you surrounded. Surrender and maybe they'll go easy on you."
Jericho gave a short bark of laughter. "How do you figure, kid? I've killed one person, wounded two others, and we're not even counting our frozen cop." He shook his head. "Naw, I don't think your plan's gonna wash. Sorry. Try again." His lips twisted into a parody of a smile.
Anger flared in Blair's eyes. "Damn you," he said in a low voice. "This isn't some game. You're playing with people's lives here. What you're doing is wrong."
Jericho's eyes narrowed. Squatting down beside Blair, he gestured for Tommy to move away. When the young man made no move to leave, the ex-con pointed the gun straight at his chest. "Go stand over there. Now."
Blair swallowed, seeing the determination in the football player's eyes. "Go on, Tommy. It's okay." He didn't want to see the younger man hurt.
Jericho raised an eyebrow. "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you, Blair?"
The wounded man's eyes widened slightly and Jericho laughed at his surprise. "I've been listening. I'm not stupid, you know."
Blair gazed steadily at him. "Oh, I don't know," he said softly, a glint of steel lurking behind the pain reflected in his eyes. "You look like a cowardly idiot to me, hiding behind a bunch of unarmed grocery shoppers."
With a surge of rage, Jericho latched onto Blair's jacket and hauled him forward.
One of Blair's arms dangled, almost totally numb and the blood-soaked diaper fell to the floor. Faces mere inches apart, Jericho said in a deadly voice, "You're gonna pay for that, punk." He yanked the pale young man to his feet and looked over to his two comrades. "Spence, bring the cop out here. I think it's time to get the show on the road."
"Hey, man," One of them protested. "You said no names."
Jericho shrugged and his next words sent a shiver down Blair's spine. "Don't worry about it. It's not like any of these people are gonna tell." He chuckled evilly. "Go get him."
Still dangling from Jericho's grasp, Blair allowed himself a small sigh of relief. They were finally going to let Jim out of the freezer. Maybe things were going to work out after all.
"Don't think this is over, boy," Jericho growled at him. "I'm gonna have him talk to Banks. Then I'm gonna bring him back here and kill him in front of you. Said you were gonna pay."
"No--no," came Blair's anguished cry. The thought of Jim dying sent pain of a different kind shooting through him. He couldn't let this psycho hurt Jim. With a strength he didn't know he still possessed, Blair grasped at Jericho's arm. "You can't do that. What kind of monster are you?"
"Monster? Yeah, I guess you could call me that," Jericho replied. "After all, society made me what I am today."
Blair looked incredulous. "Don't blame society just because you're a lame excuse for a human being."
"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Jericho's voice shook with fury. "Well, think about this, little man, these people are gonna die because of you. And I'm gonna enjoy every minute of it."
Blair's lower lip trembled whether with anger or fear he didn't know, but his head came up defiantly. "Go to hell, man."
The grip on his jacket tightened briefly and he looked into the eyes of a madman. With a howl, Jericho flung him away like yesterday's dirty laundry, sending him flying toward the canned goods. The anthropologist was vaguely aware of Tommy taking a step toward him. It was all he had time to think about as his momentum suddenly slowed.
Blair's back impacted with the shelves behind him, sending cans of corn and peas tumbling to the ground. Wincing in pain, his shoulder throbbing once again, Blair tried to grab onto the shelves for support. Only one hand was cooperating; the other refused to obey his commands. Weakened by his injuries, he could not support his weight. Blair sprawled in an undignified heap, his breath coming in short pants.
The wounded man closed his eyes. I can't take much more of this. Please, somebody--Jim--do something. Lost in his own despair, he didn't hear Jericho send his other man, Cameron, to the front of the store to monitor the situation outside. Someone, do something. Kept running through his mind.
"Damn it, Chief. Stop trying to play hero." Jim's breath came in harsh gasps, like a bull getting ready to charge. He wasn't angry; he wasn't furious. The detective had moved so far beyond such emotions there was no way to describe his current state.
Once again, Blair had taken the full brunt of it. His partner had said enough to rile Jericho, thus provoking him. And while Jim knew his friend had done it to draw fire from the rest of the hostages as well as to throw Jericho off balance enough to make a mistake, Jim didn't have to like it. "Sandburg," he muttered aloud. "When we get out of here you and I are going to have a long talk about controlling your impulses and keeping your mouth shut."
Still thinking about his partner, Jim prowled around the darkened freezer. He couldn't even begin to guess at his partner's current condition and it was eating him up inside. Blair had sounded coherent, but Jim had heard the weariness behind the words, the pain behind the bravado. The detective also knew Blair had lost a lot of blood and his body was feeling the effects of shock; not to mention the bruises he must have suffered after being thrown against the shelves.
Hearing what Jericho had said, what he'd done, and what he planned to do made Jim itch for some action. Luckily for him, the chance to make everything right was upon him. The Sentinel had been listening to the approaching footsteps of his captor. He prepared himself for an offensive attack.
Quickly grabbing a frozen brisket, Jim stood in readiness. He'd soon have his freedom and he would find and take care of Blair. "Come on, you bastard. I'm tired of waiting."
As if in compliance, the door handle began to turn. Tensing, Jim watched the door swing open. He held the frozen meat aloft and as soon as the other man appeared, the detective brandished his makeshift weapon. The meat impacted with the other man's side and he fell to his knees, clutching his ribs. Dropping the meat to the ground, Jim didn't give the villain time to react. He let fly with a right hook and Jim's captor slumped to the floor without a sound.
Grinning in satisfaction, Jim dragged the body into the freezer. Checking the unconscious man's pockets, Jim located a gun and a cell phone. Now armed--and still dangerous-- he left his one time icy prison, securing the door behind him.
The Sentinel paused, cocking his head in a gesture Blair would have found familiar. Using his incredible hearing, he was able to locate the group of hostages to the right of the store as well as the solitary man in the front. Gaze narrowing in concentration, he was able to determine that it was Cameron--Jericho's partner--keeping a lookout at the front of the store.
The detective reached for the cell phone and dialed Simon's number.
The phone was answered on the first ring. "Banks.
"Captain, it's Ellison." Jim kept his voice low.
"Jim? What the hell is going on in there? Are you okay?" The captain's voice was gruff and Jim knew he was truly concerned.
"You remember Jericho and his pal, Cameron? They attempted to rob the grocery store along with another one of their pals." Jim informed his captain.
Simon swore. "Jesus. That idiot's out of prison? I remember you telling me about him, Jim. That man's one crazy son of a bitch."
"You got that right." Jim ground out. "Anyway, I've managed to take one out. Jericho's still with the hostages. Cameron's out front. Can you see him?"
"Hold a sec." Jim heard Simon ask for a pair of binoculars. There was a pause. "I see him, Jim. He's keeping himself pretty well hidden, but he comes out in front of the windows every now and again.
"I'm going after him. When you see me take him down, that's your signal to come in. I'll leave the line on the cell open so you can hear everything." Jim's directions were short and terse.
"Understood, Jim," Simon hesitated. "Sandburg with you? Is he okay? How about the other hostages?"
Jim's jaw clenched. "From what I can tell, the hostages are fine." He couldn't trust himself to go on.
"And Sandburg?" Simon pressed.
"He's been shot, Captain. The bullet's still in him." Jim managed to get out between clenched teeth.
Banks swore. "We've got ambulances waiting out here, Jim. As soon as we get everything under control, we'll get him the help he needs."
"Good." Jim didn't feel relieved at all. Until this was all over, his partner was still hurt, still bleeding, still in the hands of a madman. "I'm going after Cameron. Be ready." Without waiting for an acknowledgment, he slipped the phone into his jacket pocket.
The detective crept forward until he was in sight of the front of the store, but still hidden behind a shelf. Checking his borrowed gun and making sure the clip was loaded and ready, he peered around the corner. Eyes narrowing, he saw Cameron tucked close to a wall near the glass doors. He was hidden from view for the moment; Simon and the others couldn't see him.
Quietly, Jim moved forward, gun up and ready. He had just reached Cameron when the other man suddenly pivoted, throwing his leg back in a wide arc.
Jim felt the impact of the foot on his wrist and his gun flew out of his hand to land across the floor out of his reach. Biting back a groan of pain, he quickly reached for Cameron's arm as it came down to bear on him, the gun aimed at his chest.
The struggle for possession of the gun began in earnest, each trying to get control. Like some bizarre dance, they stumbled into the open, neither aware of the police approaching from the other side.
Locked into combat, Jim realized he needed to get the upper hand. He couldn't hold Cameron's gun away from himself indefinitely. With sudden decisiveness, he braced the arm with the weapon in one hand. The other he curled into a fist and drove into Cameron's stomach.
The ex-con bent forward, moaning in pain. Jim took the moment of weakness and closed his hand around the stock of the gun. Intent on wresting the gun from Cameron, he wasn't quick enough to dodge the head barreling toward his solar plexus.
The detective felt a whoosh of air escape his mouth as he stumbled backward and fell, losing his battle over the weapon. He watched as Cameron brought the gun down and aim it at his head. Looking into the barrel, it wasn't his life that flashed before his eyes, but Blair's. His partner needed him. "No, Cameron," he whispered. "I don't think so."
With a quick move which belayed his precarious position, his booted foot shot out and slammed into Cameron's knee. With a feral grin, he watched his foe fall forward with a groan of pain. It still wasn't over yet and Jim reached again for the weapon. Cameron still had some power in him and they continued to wrestle for possession of the gun.
Rolling across the floor, Jim saw the gun come down. It was too close for comfort and Cameron's finger on the trigger did nothing to ease his mind. He continued to struggle for the gun, rage fueling him. The longer he took here, the longer it took for Blair to get medical help. With a burst of strength, the detective guided the gun away from himself. Just as he was sure he had control, Jim felt the gun recoil in his hand as the bullet left the chamber.
The shot echoed in the store.
Then all was silent.
The hostages stopped movement and looked at one another. They had all heard the shot. Dread falling upon the little group, they turned their eyes toward their captor who was trying to reach his cohorts on the cell phone.
"Damn it, Spence, answer the phone." When no one answered the call, Jericho flung the phone in rage. Not waiting for the shattered pieces to settle, he grabbed his gun and began swinging it in front of him. Searching wildly, panic making his movements jerky, he prepared to be assaulted from the front. He forgot momentarily about his hostages behind him.
Blair used the distraction to his advantage. "Tommy. Tommy." He hissed, getting the younger man's attention. "Tommy, you've got to help me up. I need to get up. My partner's out there. I can feel it and he needs me."
Tommy knelt beside him. "Sir, you don't have the strength. Please, we need to be still. That man's crazy. If we don't draw attention to ourselves--"
Blair reached with his good arm and latched on to Tommy's sweatshirt. He could see the terror in his ex-student's eyes and his heart went out to him. Unfortunately, he had no time to sooth fears. His own time was growing short. He was savvy enough to realize his own predicament. Shivering with cold constantly, he could feel rivulets of sweat glide down his face. It didn't help either that his vision was blurry. The police observer couldn't think about that now. Jim was out there, possibly hurt maybe worse. He would dig down deep within himself for the strength he would need to stand. Blair had to help Jim. He would do this. There was no choice. "Tommy, listen to me. We have a chance here. You've got to help me up. Once I'm on my feet, get these people away from here. Don't argue with me. We haven't much time. In fact, start telling the others to move now."
Tommy still looked doubtful, but one look at the anthropologist's determine glare, he did what he was told. As he bent and slipped an arm around Blair's waist, he told the others to quietly make there way from the area.
Leaning heavily on his ex-student, Blair watched the other hostages slip away and sighed with relief. Once on his feet, he took deep even breaths finding the resolve he needed to stay upright. Gently pushing at Tommy, he urged, "Okay, man, time for you to go. Hit the road. Get away. No arguments."
The younger man looked ready to argue anyway, but Blair shook his head feebly. He clutched at the shelf behind him for support as spots swam before his eyes. He wasn't going to be able to do this much longer. "Go, Tommy. Please," he whispered.
With one last look, Tommy nodded and disappeared.
At that moment, Jericho jerked around and pointed his gun at Blair. The look in his eyes scared the younger man and for the first time he felt he had looked into the abyss of madness. Tensing, he waited for the bullet to hit its target as he silently prayed for Jim's forgiveness. 'I'm sorry, big guy. I tried. I really did."
"Freeze! Cascade police!" Simon Banks shouted as he and other police personnel surrounded the madman pointing a gun at Blair. "The EMTs are on the way in, Sandburg. Just hang in there." Simon added, not taking his eyes from Jericho.
Blair didn't skip a beat. "Is Jim okay?" His voice trembled and the captain was hard put to decide if it was with pain or fear. Sandburg looked like hell.
Banks gave a short nod. "He's fine. Cameron's dead, though. Does that surprise you, Jericho?" The captain once again focused his attention on the criminal who had yet to lower the gun.
The other man laughed, the sound was slightly distorted. "What does it matter?" He pulled back the hammer of his gun. "It's the punk you should be worried about."
"Put it down, Jericho. Now!" Banks ordered.
Jericho laughed again and maintained his aim on Blair.
"Do as he says, scumbag." came a quiet voice, so thick with furious intensity that it quickly grabbed everyone's attention.
Blair finally allowed himself a sigh of relief as he saw Jim step up to Jericho. He had been wondering where his partner was, but just now realized that what had just transpired had only taken a couple of minutes. "Jim, thank god you're okay," he breathed. Blair wasn't surprised to see blood staining his friend's clothes. Still, it was a shock. But Simon had assured him that Jim was okay.
Jim spared him a brief glance, taking in his partner's appearance. Blair looked ready to fall over any minute and the Sentinel wanted desperately to go to his guide and take care of him. He couldn't do that, though, until the situation was under control.
With that thought in mind, Jim calmly placed the muzzle of his gun against Jericho's forehead. Pushing gently, he watched Jericho's eyes come up to meet his. "You ready for that trip to hell?" He asked softly, emotions deceptively under control. He pulled back the hammer. "I'm ready to send you there. You shouldn't mess with a man's partner, Jericho. It's almost a sacred thing."
Jericho's eyes widened and he finally realized fear. Lowering his arm, he allowed for another policeman to take the gun from his hand, but his eyes never left Ellison's face.
"Jim," Simon spoke. "We got him. You can put the gun down."
"No," Jim replied dangerously. "He nearly killed Blair. I can't let that go unpunished."
"Ellison!" Simon barked in his best captain's voice, suddenly very much aware of Jim's state of mind. He'd seen him like this once, when he was holding Quinn over a mine shaft. It had taken all of Simon's persuasive powers to bring his detective back from the edge. "Put your weapon down. Don't blow away your career--your life--for this asshole."
Still, Jim hadn't moved. There was a feral gleam in his eye and he could feel the blood pounding in his ears. He was on the hunt and he was out for blood. He stepped closer to Jericho.
"Detective Ellison!" Simon barked, alarmed. He wondered if he would be able to stop Jim this time. Jim didn't even appear to be listening.
"Simon," a quiet pain-filled voice drew his attention. "Simon, he's having a type of z--" Blair started before realizing their audience. It wouldn't do to let all the cops know of Jim's zone-outs.
Whatever he had been about to say seemed to make sense to Banks who nodded.
"Let me try, Captain." On weak legs, Blair tried to push himself away from the shelves. When it didn't seem to work, he abandoned the idea and began talking to Jim from where he stood. "Come on, Jim. It's all over now. Everyone's safe. I'm okay. Put the gun down."
The Sentinel didn't seem to have registered his guide's voice and he continued to ruthlessly drill the muzzle of the gun into Jericho's forehead. Only one thought pounded in his head, justice. For Blair.
Feeling dizziness and exhaustion creeping over him, Blair desperately tried again. "Please, man, put the gun down. I--I--" His voice cracked and he swayed. "I need you. I can't do this anymore, Jim. Please, I need for you to help me..." Weakly, his voice trailed off. He didn't know what else to do.
For a moment, Jim made no move. Then he stepped away and handed his gun to one of the uniformed cops standing next to him. Apparently dismissing Jericho and everyone else, he walked toward his partner.
Simon watched, once again amazed at the power of their bond. Still keeping an eye on the pair, he issued orders for the medics to enter the now secure grocery store and allowed Sorenson and Woods to take Jericho away.
Oblivious to the action taking place behind him, Jim reached his best friend. "It's okay, Chief. I'm here. I've got you." He wrapped his arms around Blair just as the younger man collapsed. Holding onto him tightly, Jim guided his friend to the floor.
"J--Jim?" Blair managed, eyes half closed.
"Shh, Chief. The medics are on their way in. You'll be patched up in no time." Jim brushed dark curls clinging to Blair's forehead. He could feel the fever coursing through the body he held.
"J--Jim? Are you okay, man? Freezer...awfully cold. Please be okay," Blair babbled, voice wavering.
Jim closed his eyes briefly before lying his chin atop Blair's head, feeling at peace since this whole ordeal began. "I'm okay now, buddy. I'm okay now."
Blair sighed. "'m glad. So worried..."
"No need to worry anymore. Everything's fine. I'm fine." Jim began stroking Blair's forehead softly as the paramedics knelt down beside him.
"Good," Blair mumbled. "Jim?"
Jim sighed in exasperation. Getting his partner to keep quiet was a chore at the best of times. "Yeah, Sandburg?"
Closing his eyes fully, Blair relaxed even more into Jim's embrace. "Can't feel my arm, man. Something's wrong."
Jim's jaw twitched and he clutched at his partner. "I know, Chief. I know. We'll take care of it. The medics are going to help you. You ready for a ride?"
The Sentinel felt the nod against his chest. "Yeah," his partner mumbled. "Just-just don't leave me, Jim."
"Not a chance, buddy. Not a chance," Jim murmured before releasing Blair into the care of the paramedics. The younger man was unconscious as he was loaded onto the stretcher, but true to his word, the Sentinel never left his guide's side.
Epilogue to follow. Thanks for reading!