Rainier University, Friday, 02 October
AJ glared at her computer. Resolutely, she typed in a new search. After a moment she paused, waiting for the response. When it came up blank she cursed, soft, clipped words that slid from one language to the next as she vented her frustration. She tilted her head, catching the sound of the door opening. She closed down her computer.
"Heyla, Sandburg. You're early today." In a smooth movement she turned to face him. "I thought you were going to be busy today, finishing paperwork at the station?"
"Morning, Sunshine." Blair yawned as he walked over to her desk. "I have to go out on a stakeout tonight. It's a last minute thing. Brown slipped at the bridge last night and is laid up, so we're covering for him."
"Aah." AJ stood and looked up at him. "Did you get any sleep?"
"Enough for what I have to do." He pulled a computer disk from his backpack. "I have the list of what we've cataloged. Are you ready to start on the placements?"
"Give me a minute to clean up this stuff." AJ turned back to the desk and started picking up the scattered papers she had been working on.
Blair began helping her but froze as he read the first one he touched. He picked up another, reading it with the same black curiosity. His voice was soft with shock as he asked her, "you've been researching cult murders?"
"Hmm?" She looked up from where she was rapidly filing the loose pages. Seeing the page in his hand she frowned for a moment before shrugging. "Oh, those. Kind of. There used to be a group in South America, said they were reestablishing the old ways. I decided to see if they were still active. Since I couldn't find them by name, I decided to look by ritual. Unfortunately, I didn't realize exactly how many cults there were or how many ritual murders occur annually."
Blair looked at her carefully. He still wasn't sure how much of AJ was bluff and how much was truth. Something though tickled the back of his neck. He knew she was not telling him everything. She gently pulled the papers from his hands and put them away. For the first time, he noticed the bowie laying next to the computer. He looked over and met her shuttered eyes and decided not to say anything, at least not now.
"Do you need me to make any coffee for you?" She asked him, eyes still watching him.
"Nah, I'll just steal some of your tea." He reached out and snagged her tea cup. The bitter brew made him wince. "Ugh. This isn't tea. It's awful."
"It's not regular tea. It's a special blend I brought with me." She shook her head and took the cup away from him. "I'll make you something you'll like."
Blair watched her head for the kitchen thoughtfully. He knew he'd had that tea before. He just needed time and he'd remember. It was a special blend... he knew that much.
Friday afternoon, Rainier University.
Jim Ellison stared up at the apartment building. He'd expected Blair to be inside working, but there was no sign of his partner's car. He frowned before shrugging and heading inside. Even if Blair wasn't there, he wouldn't mind meeting the anthropologist. He'd heard a lot about her in the past few weeks. He had to ask her a couple of questions about Cage anyway.
Upon arriving at the station that morning, he'd been greeted by a solemn Captain Banks. Somehow, Cage had gotten one of the most well-paid lawyers in Cascade to arrange for an early office visit. At the ungodly hour of 5 am, the photographer, lawyer in tow, had arrived at the station and quietly demanded to give his statement. Claiming to have a flight out of the country for business in a little more than 3 hours, the man gave a rushed but fairly complete description of events. Minutes before Jim arrived, Cage. and the lawyer left.
The apartment was on the second floor. As he approached, his senses started picking up information about the apartment. The scent of herbs, both fresh and dried assaulted his nose. He glared at the posy tied to the door frame in annoyance. He had really learned to hate dried herbs since his sentinel senses came back to the forefront. From somewhere behind the door he could hear the sound of Fortaleza singing softly to herself. It was something tribal and rhythmic. Unfortunately for her, it masked his knock on the door.
Jim only hesitated a moment. Blair had told him that AJ left the door unlocked during her version of "office hours" and was always there, working away at her pile of crates. The knob turned easily under his hand. He stepped quietly into the apartment, looking around but not seeing Fortaleza.
From all of the things Blair had said, Jim knew what to expect. Even after three weeks of hard word, the stacks of crates looked almost enormous. Everywhere he looked was evidence that Fortaleza took her work at the university seriously. He saw neat stacks of journals, carefully labeled by year, tribe, and nation with slips of paper sticking out of the pages taking up most of a set of shelves. Near them was a group of clay figurines, each placed on a separate sheet of paper for identification. Packing material filled several bags, each tightly tied, sitting near the door.
When he first saw the folder, he thought maybe he'd misread the name. Even from across the room, his name stood out. He felt a shard of ice fill his gut and focused his sight on it. Quickly, he walked across the room, slipping silently between the tightly packed crates. On top of a stack of folders, the thick manila file stood out, almost as if it were shouting for his attention.
His jaw tensed, the muscle jumping as he opened the file. Close typed words glared up at him. He quickly skimmed over the file. He couldn't believe how much information was there. From the day he went home from the hospital with his mother until he entered the army, every major event in his life was cataloged and examined. His army career was contained on a single page of paper which stated that his file was classified. Most of the file was taken up with an in depth history of the time since his return from Peru. Every single case he'd handled in the Cascade police department which had made the newspapers was there, along with reviews and penciled in notations. Nothing was missed, unless it was classified or had something to do with his sentinel senses.
The fury that his file engendered turned to ice when he noticed the file below his. That file, titled Blair Sandburg, was over twice the thickness of his. He opened it and began reading, getting colder and angrier as he read. Somehow Fortaleza had gathered more information about Sandburg than Jim had ever seen in one place. The file tracked Naomi and Blair from place to place, rarely losing them. As Blair grew older and entered school, the file became more detailed. It pointed to a long and intensive search by the kind of people he really didn't want around his friend. Very carefully he closed the file, schooling his face onto a semblance of calm.
"Hello, Detective Ellison." AJ spoke softly, trying not to startle the big man. Only the fact that she recognized him from his photograph kept her from all out panic. This was bad. Really, really bad. It had been a long time since someone had gotten the drop on her. Hopefully her guesses were wrong and he wasn't the sentinel she was afraid he was. Because if he was Enqueri, he would know she wasn't giving him the whole answer to his questions. And she knew he was going to ask. "I'm afraid you missed Blair. He was very tired, so he left about an hour ago."
"Where did you get this'?" Ellison kept his voice low, fighting to keep from yelling at her. At the tense words she stopped, well out of reach. When he stepped forward she reflexively took a step backwards. His eyes narrowed as he focused his senses on the young woman, looking for any threat to his guide.
"I can't tell you where each page came from, I don't know. I asked for information. That is what I received." AJ stopped backing up, refusing to be forced any farther into a corner. As Ellison approached, she had to tilt her head uncomfortably to look at him. Reacting to his threatening stance, in her head she began running through an old meditation.
"I don't believe you. Who are you, really? Why are you researching Sandburg and me?" He leaned over her, intimidating her without touching her. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd have her up again the wall, but something warned him not to push any harder. He could hear the low rumbling growl of his spirit panther as he leaned over her. He dialed his senses up a notch, reading the tension in her, the rising heart rate and blood pressure. He was startled as somehow she firmly forced herself back under control.
"I am exactly who I said I was. My name is Alessandre Jacobo Fortaleza, I go by AJ Fortaleza. I am an anthropologist and a photographer." AJ knew that even that much of the truth wouldn't really satisfy him. Ellison's file indicated he was paranoid. And as the Americans said, just because you're paranoid doesn't they aren't out to get you. The only thing she could do was to answer with partial truths. "If I was going to have him helping me set up an exhibit worth several million dollars, I needed to know I could trust him with the artifacts. I guaranteed the safety of the artifacts until the day the university takes over the exhibit. I had to know that I could trust Blair Sandburg and, through him, you."
With her heart rate firmly under her control, Jim couldn't tell if she was lying. Not without pushing the edges of a zone out. If Blair were here he'd be able to push it. He closed Blair's folder and turned away, heading for the door. He had other means of getting information, ones that would cost him less than a confrontation would. Once he had the needed background, he could really question her.
"Detective Ellison." The young woman moved to block his exit. Her heart rate flared up again, a whiff of fear teased his nostrils before she very gently tapped the file folders in his hands. "Those are mine and they stay here."
"You should have taken the easy way out and just answered my questions." Jim warned her as he let her take the files. If he thought she'd wouldn't complain to the department, he'd have kept them. She might not like the police, but he had the feeling that she would use them to her advantage. That or she would contact whoever had provided the files. "Now, we do things the hard way."
AJ watched as the big man stalked out of the apartment. Damn, she didn't need this not now. Actually, she did not ever want to have to deal with this. An angry sentinel was always a problem. The rumbling roar of the panther had assured her of the unknown sentinel's identity. It was more than enough of a warning for her, the panther made her uneasy enough without its sentinel being upset. Ellison was not the kind of person she wanted hunting her, but she couldn't think of any way to answer his questions without causing more problems. All she could do was wait and see. If his contacts were as good as hers, things were about to get interesting. She leaned against the door and, for the first time since her arrival, locked the door during the daylight hours.
852 Prospect Ave, Apt 307
Blair looked up as Jim stalked into the loft. Seeing the naked fury on his friend's face, he didn't say a word, just closed his book and waited. He knew better than to push at this point. Jim would talk when he was ready, pushing would just cause him to react, usually negatively.
The sentinel slammed the door and walked over to the phone. There he pulled open a drawer and removed a battered, ancient address book. He quickly flipped through the pages until he came to the listing he wanted. Still ignoring his guide, he began dialing.
"Manny? This is Ellison. Yeah, I'm calling in that favor. I need some information. No, nothing classified, just whatever you can get for me on a Alessandre J Fortaleza." Jim listened to the man on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, that's right, she's an anthropologist. It's personal, Manny, she pulled my files so I'm pulling hers. I also need some information about a photographer who goes by the initials K.A.J. Thanks."
Blair stood and went over to stand next to him. He watched quietly as Jim called another number. He placed a hand on the sentinel's back. Jim's back was so tense that the muscles were quivering. He began rubbing gently, trying to ease some of the tension.
"Hello, Sandy. Yeah, it's me. I need to speak to Jeff for a minute. No, I'm not trying to borrow your dad for anything. Thanks." A small half smile crept across his face as he listened the to the quiet voice. When the voice was replaced by his old friend, he automatically came to attention. "Hello, sir. Yes, sir, I am calling in that marker. AJ Fortaleza... I think it's short for Alessandre. I'm also looking for information on the photographer K.A.J. No sir, it's not work related, it's personal. No, sir, I don't think any of it will be classified. Thank you, sir."
Finished with his calls, Jim turned to face Blair. Wrapping his arms around himself, he closed his eyes, breathing in the herbal scent of Blair's shampoo. Dimly he felt a gentle pressure as Blair's hand came to rest on his arm.
"What happened, Jim? What did AJ do, man? I haven't seen you this mad in a long time." Blair's voice was low, not quite the guide tone he used so often.
"I went over to her apartment thinking you would be there. I walked in, the door was unlocked, and she hadn't answered. She had a couple of files on the table." Jim looked at his guide, trying to explain what had happened. "The first file was on me. It was a general file on my life, Chief. Information about my family, my education, my military history, my work in the PD. Nothing too detailed, nothing classified just general information.
"Under that file was a thicker, detailed set of files. It was your life, Blair." The fact that Jim called him by name made Blair tense. He knew it was going to be bad. Real bad. Jim rubbed at his neck as he continued, trying to ease his own tension. "I didn't have time to get through all of it, so I can't tell you exactly what's in it. It was much more thorough than my file. It traces you and Naomi from the time she started seeing her obstetrician. It goes into detail about where you lived, who else was there, what was going on. Whoever gathered that information had a lot of sources, all over the USA, and in a lot of other countries. She has copies of a lot of your papers. It looked like they started gathering them when you were twelve or thirteen."
"Oh, shit." Blair's voice was soft, almost below Jim's hearing threshold. "I don't believe it. That's about the time I first read about Sentinels. Mom got me a copy of one of Burton's monographs at a country auction."
Jim watched silently as Blair's mind began extrapolating from the information he'd been given. He could almost see the thoughts racing past. The younger man's fury started at a much slower pace. But, like an avalanche, it rapidly and exponentially grew stronger.
"Oh, my god, Jim. If she has access to that much information, what does that mean for you? I mean, if she has all my papers, she knows how long I was searching for a sentinel. And what does that mean for Mom? Some of the things she's done could put her in jail. How long have I been under surveillance? It's a fucking conspiracy! How the..."
"Easy, Chief." Jim soothed his partner. "Monday morning we'll have files on her. Then we'll figure out what to do next."
"Did she say why she has files on us?"
"Yeah. She said it was to protect the artifacts in the collection." Jim let his hands roam across the slim back, trying to relax the tension there. "I'm not sure, but she was hiding something."
"Lying to a sentinel?" Blair snorted.
"No, it wasn't a lie. More like she was trying to avoid something, hoping I wouldn't ask the right question." The detective frowned. "I think she was trying very hard not to lie, so she skirted the truth. She was also controlling her heart rate, using biofeedback or meditation to keep it steady."
"Why would she do that, unless she knows you're a sentinel." Blair looked anguished.
"Let's not borrow trouble, Chief. First thing, tomorrow morning I'm pulling everything I can off the normal channels. Most of the rest will have to wait until Monday, though. The stuff from my friends will arrive by then." The look on Jim's face promised retribution. "We can go see Fortaleza in the afternoon."
"I'm supposed to work with her Monday."
"Call in sick. Until I have an idea of what she's really doing here in Cascade, I don't want you alone with her."
"Jim, it's not like I haven't been alone with her before. She's not going to do anything to me." Blair shook his head. "If anything, I think she's probably here for information on us. Or to get information about you."
"I don't care, Chief. Until I know it's safe, I want to be with you whenever you're anywhere near her."
Blair started to respond but didn't. As many times as one or the other of them had ended up in trouble because of a woman, he couldn't really argue against Jim's point of view. The thought of his sentinel being anywhere near AJ made him nervous. He picked up the phone. "Fine. I'll call her now."
AJ picked up on the first ring. Before he could say a word, she spoke. "I'll see you when you're feeling up to coming in. Keep safe until then."
"How did you know?"
"I don't get phone calls, Blair. Who else would be calling?" AJ's voice sounded normal, teasing him with the same easy style she'd used from the moment she'd met him. "Tell Detective Ellison I said hello. Goodnight."
He hung up the phone and looked at his partner. "Well, that was easy. What do we do now?"
"Since we don't have anything scheduled until the stakeout, we need to get some sleep. Of course, we could drink a couple of beers and relax first, but I don't think that would be a good idea." Jim's eyes were narrowed as he thought about further possible actions. He still had a lot of toys left over from his time in covert ops. Of course, he couldn't let Blair know what he was thinking. The younger man still hadn't forgotten all the trouble from the time Jim had used an illegal wiretap on Juno.
Saturday, 03 October, early afternoon
Jim grabbed the phone on its first ring. He glanced over the railing, focusing his senses on his sleeping guide. The phone had not disturbed him. He spoke quietly into the receiver, "Ellison."
"Jim, what are you getting yourself into?" The voice made him tense.
"Jeff?"
"There are more safeguards on these files than I've seen on a civilian in a long time. I'll have the preliminary files at your office on Monday. Who do you trust to sign for them?"
"My captain, Simon Banks." The idea that Fortaleza or Cage had confidential files stabbed at his consciousness. "How tight is the security?"
"You've still got the clearance." He could hear a smile in the other man's voice. "And Jim? I still owe you. In fact, the knowledge that Fortaleza is in the US makes me even more indebted to you."
He stared at the phone for a moment before hanging up. It sounded like he needed to do some research of his own. Just to find out what the woman was doing in Cascade. The idea brought a grim smile to his lips. It wasn't often that he got to play with his old skills. Now he had a very good excuse to pull out some old toys. too. If he worked fast, he could set up a remote wire tap before Blair woke up.
Late Saturday afternoon
It was much later before Jim's wiretap gathered any information. The sentinel was glad he hooked the tape to a voice activated recorder and a remote. Otherwise, he'd have wasted a lot blank tape. As it was, all he had to do was stop by the hidden tape deck every few hours and cheek to see if anything had been recorded. As he checked the equipment during a store run, it activated. The quiet beep as the recorder turned itself on startled him. Quickly the he focused his sight on the distant apartment.
"Haloa?" Jim focused on Fortaleza, watching her pace in front of the window. Over the phone he could hear her heart rate jump.
"AJ."
"Ese? What's going on?"
"What's so urgent?" The man on the line spoke softly, as if he didn't want to scare Fortaleza.
"I checked my files, Ese. They're incomplete. Why? You've had more than enough time to straighten them out and get them updated."
"We can't get to the updates. Zel has code protected them." The man sighed. "Unless you know his passwords or his safe box code, we have to backtrack and rebuild your file from your notes. And that takes time."
"You need to ask Zel for that, Ese." Fortaleza's voice was tense as she stared out across the university commons. Jim focused on her face, watching the conflicting emotions that rapidly crossed it. He forced himself to concentrate on listening to the conversation at the same time, praying that he wouldn't zone. Trying to explain that to Blair would be hard. "You know that. Why haven't you?"
"Zel is missing, AJ. He checked himself out AMA." Regret was obvious in his tone. "The doctors aren't even sure he was coherent when he left. They have is his signature on the forms but no one remembers him signing them."
"When?"
"September 1st."
"I can catch the next flight east." Fortaleza's face was pale. her eyes closed as she leaned against the glass. "Maybe I can find him. I could have gone straight there, found him before it came to this. Maybe if he'd been here..."
"No." Ese's voice was firm. "You know you can't do that. You can't track him in the city, it's not your environment. You take care of his exhibit, make sure that he has a job to come back to and I'll find him."
"I don't like the idea of him being lost and sick out there." Her words were soft, almost vanishing in the static from the long distance line. "He always took care of me, it's my turn to take care of him."
"Between us, he'll be fine." There was a long pause before the man spoke again. "Someone is checking you out, pulling tagged public files. Any ideas who it is?"
"Probably, Detective Ellison."
"A cop? You've made friends with a cop?"
"He's the detective who works with Blair Sandburg, the teaching fellow I'm working with here.
It's not a problem." She sounded resigned.
"He checked you out. Thoroughly. You don't need that kind of attention." The man paused and then his voice sounded even more disparaging. "Cage went back to the jungle? He left you there alone?"
"Calm down, Ese. I'm a threat to no one and I owe no one here. No one is going to hunt me down, not here." Fortaleza's voice became soothing and relaxed. As Jim quietly listened in, her heart rate returned to normal. "I am as close to being retired as can be. Everyone who knows anything, knows that I am a simply a teacher."
"AJ... you're playing a dangerous game." It suddenly occurred to Jim that Ese's voice was strained, trying to hide something. "We know that we weren't told everything before you were sent to Cascade."
"No. I'm not playing. Until you find Zel and he gets the treatment he needs, I'll cover for him here." Fortaleza seemed far too calm for the undercurrents he was hearing. "Take care of your end. I'll see to the exhibit. Hey, Ese? When does the rest arrive? The knife collection is late. And so are my boxes."
"I'll see what I can find out and call you back."
"I'll be here." Fortaleza murmured as she hung up the phone. She leaned her forehead against the glass, closing her eyes with a sigh. Jim focused on the words that were slipping quietly from her lips. The sound of the Chopec prayer for healing shook him to his core. It had been years since he'd heard those words. He wanted those files now, not Monday morning.
Cascade PD, Major Crimes Department, 05 October
The first thing Jim and Blair noticed when they walked into the bullpen was the thick package sitting on Jim's desk. Blair eyed it curiously, a slow grin spreading across his face. "That was fast, man."
Jim shrugged out of his coat and hung it up. Ignoring Blair's pleading look, he picked up his coffee cup and asked, "want some coffee first?"
"No. I'm fine." Blair fidgeted for a moment before sitting on the corner of the desk and examining the two packages. "I'll wait here."
"Sure, Chief."
Hiding a smirk at the obvious curiosity and the effort Blair was putting into controlling it, Jim headed into the break room. Rafe and Brown joined him.
"So, how long until he blows a gasket trying to read the return address?" Brown asked with a chuckle.
"Ten minutes." Rafe replied.
"Coffee?" Jim held up the pot. Both men held out their cups with identical smiles. "What's up? Trying to see how long you can delay my return?"
"Yep." Brown laughed. "The betting pool is at $140 on how long before either he opens one of them, or he asks you to go ahead and open it."
"Stacking the deck, Brown?"
"Nah, man. I wouldn't do that." The detective grinned innocently.
"Right. Of course, you would Henri." His partner chided, as he stirred creamer into his coffee cup. "You'd do anything to get Vice's money."
Jim and Brown both chuckled at the comment.
Rafe shrugged and grinned at them. H protested with a slight whine that made them laugh aloud.
"Well, it's the truth."
When Jim returned to his desk he found Blair and Simon talking quietly as they waited for him.
"Ellison, since when am I required to sign for your packages?" Simon's voice was almost gentle as he looked at his detective.
"Ever since we've demanded that all federal agents get signed in and confirmed by the front desk before they can work with Major Crimes?" Jim grinned unrepentantly, as he picked up the sealed envelopes.
"Do I want to know?" Simon asked quietly. He knew his men and he knew their penchant for finding trouble.
"I'll let you know, sir." Jim watched as Simon drew himself upright at the word. They both knew that he only called the big captain sir when they were at loggerheads or trouble was surfacing. "Someone pulled my file and put together an impressive one on Sandburg. I'm simply returning the favor."
"Keep me informed, Jim." Simon met both of their eyes, noting their tension, and nodded before turning and going into his office.
The phone on Jim's desk rang and he grabbed it, opening the envelope one-handed. "Ellison. Yeah, I got it Manny. Are you sure? Okay. No problem, I'll keep in touch."
Jim frowned and looked over at Blair. He sat and waited a moment for Blair to pull a chair up to the desk. "Ready?"
Blair nodded, watching as Jim slid two file folders from the envelope. The first was simply labeled "primary search". It was thin. Blair opened it and frowned at it. It contained a cut and dry set of government forms, passport records, immunizations and medical records.
"Well, that's so not informative." Blair's disgusted comment brought Jim's head up from where he had been reading the note Manny included with the files.
"Manny warned that the first search didn't bring up much." Jim spoke softly. "Which coming from a man in his position at State is surprising."
He looked over Blair's shoulder at the first file. When he'd requested the information he hadn't expected to get much, but he'd definitely expected more than this. Most of it was government paperwork; passport records, vaccination records, birth certificate, but none of it contained anything they could use. Each form had the bare minimum information filled out, in fact there were more empty spaces than full. As suspicious as he was about Fortaleza and her reasons for being in Cascade, the lack of information made his mental alarms go off even louder than before.
With an angry flip, he opened the second file, hoping for more information. The second of the files was public material relating to both K.A.J. and Fortaleza. Newspaper articles from several nations, with accompanying translations where necessary, made up the bulk of the file. Brief one page synopses of papers that the anthropologist had submitted took up the remainder. In it all there were only two photographs.
One was a side view of young child turning away. The child's movements rendered most of the photo mainly a blur of long legs and hair. One arm in sharp relief, was held firmly by a large, aged hand at the elbow. A fresh tribal mark glowed eerily against slightly reddened skin of the upper arm. Above it intricately woven tattoos rested quietly against the fair skin. The muted colors of the tattoos seemed to meld into a band around the child's arm. It was tentatively labeled: Fortaleza? age 11? in pencil.
The other picture was dark and poorly focused, unlike the crisp picture of the child. At first glance it was a group of tribesmen in a jungle setting. A closer look made Ellison frown. The warriors were facing outward, protecting the figures in the center. A pale, skinny, almost rail-thin, figure was leaning against a hard faced tribal warrior as another man crouched beside them, tending the bloody wounds on figure's back. On the ground and out of focus, completely ignored, was a uniformed body. A thin object at the crouching man's feet made Jim wince. The flowing curves of the bow identified the hunting party in a way that the blurred tribal paint did not. The Walks Through People. There was no identification of the wounded man, but he was pretty sure who it was. On the back of the picture someone had penciled in the initials K A J. Thoughtfully he handed them both to Blair.
Muttering dire comments under his breath as he dialed a number from memory. He needed more information to make his decision. Depending on what he found out from his old friend at the CIA, he'd know whether he could trust anything Fortaleza said or not.
"Andrew? It's Ellison. Yeah, I'm doing fine. How's the wife?" They made a bit of small talk before settling down to business. "Yeah, I'm looking for information on an AJ Fortaleza or Cage... that's right the photographer."
The man on the other line hesitated as he read the information he pulled up on his terminal. "Jim, how important is this?"
"It's real important. I've been having trouble getting any real information about either of them." There was a long pause. "What is it, Andrew?." Jim felt a block of ice begin to form in his chest, as he waited for the response.
"They are both gold sources, Jim. If either one calls and the ID code matches we are to treat him as gold. No questions as to how either of them got the information. Just act on it and fast." There was a bit of awe in his friend's voice. "The last time he contacted one of our people, he gave us a lead on some really nasty terrorists."
"Gold? That good?... damn." Ellison paused, thinking quickly. The fact that Andrew referred to Fortaleza as 'he' hadn't gotten past him. It took some really heavy pull to obscure information in the secured files. "Who do they normally work for?"
"No one, Jim. Each man volunteers his information and he's either completely independent or they work for someone we don't know. Both were raised by Abraham Zelinski, trained by him. Fortaleza acts as a forerunner, a guide into new territory, befriends the natives. Never does wet work of any kind that I can see. The closest to official work is when he finds lost Americans in the jungle and delivers them to the nearest friendly embassy." The man on the other end paused.
"We don't contact Fortaleza unless it's dire. Cage is another story. Likes wet work, as long as he doesn't have to leave his home territory. He's gone inside some pretty seamy places for us. All of is code name material, Jim. I can't tell you anything else about it."
"I don't need that kind of information. I just want a general idea of who I'm dealing with." Jim replied to the silent question in his friend's words.
"Cage and Alex Fortaleza have worked together for years. Rumor says they're involved or related. Never seen together but always backing each other up, that kind of thing. If anything goes wrong near Fortaleza, Cage goes in to clean it up and he's real good." The Sentinel could hear the other man typing away at his computer. "Looks like they've given information to us, the Brits, Interpol, and the Aussies. It says here that they didn't play nice when Pinochet tried to have Fortaleza picked up. Between Cage's pictures and the story Fortaleza wrote to go with them, they raised more money for Amnesty International's operations than their entire publicity campaign did the previous year."
"How long is the file?"
"It's real short, Jim. All it has are passwords and what's been done for us. And most of that is rumor, no hard facts, no proof. No pictures, no description, nada." The man paused before continuing. "Jim, there's one more thing. Fortaleza and Cage are both said to be protective of their people. Everyone who's ever worked with them has been, shall we say, looked after once they got on one of their good sides."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it says here that they broke regs to rescue someone we'd given up on. Dragged him a couple of hundred klicks to a mission just because, to quote Cage's official report, 'you never leave your own behind'." Jim could hear his friend typing again. "If you're working with them, you couldn't ask for better back up. Jim, one of them really pushed for the satellite pictures that found you."
Jim was silent for a long moment as he contemplated that information. "Thanks, Andrew. I owe you one."
"Buy me a beer when I'm in town." His friend chuckled. "The fact is that just being able to note that Fortaleza is in the country is more than payment enough. It means that Cage will be in and out of the area, and that is something my people like knowing. You need anything else, just call."
"You got it."
"Well?" Blair sounded impatient, as he waited for Jim to explain his phone call.
"Open the other envelope." Was Jim's only answer. Part of him hoped that Jeff had been able to answer the questions that he was coming up with. Questions as to just how dangerous the woman was going to be towards his guide.
Blair sighed and opened the envelope, sliding out three files. The first two were like the ones sent by Manny, official documents and public information. The third file was marked classified. Blair looked at the red stamp on the folder and handed it over to Jim without saying a word.
"Thanks, Chief." The sentinel opened the file and froze. The first page was a photograph. At his side, Blair swallowed loudly. The picture was old. Between the make of the cars involved in the accident and the yellowing of the picture, he'd guess at least twenty years old. It showed the remains of five cars, all of them burned, crumpled wrecks. In the closest car, the remains of a driver could still be seen.
Jim turned the photograph over and laid it face down on the desk. Blair plucked the medical report from the file and began reading it aloud. "Oh, man. Broken legs, flailed chest, concussion... What on earth is a bilateral hematoma? First degree burns. Complete amnesia due to the blow to the head. They removed a 22 caliber bullet... wait a minute. Jim, does this make any sense to you?"
"Fortaleza was the only survivor," Jim spoke up, reading from the police report. "And they never found out which car she was pulled from."
"But, if ... then how did they know who she was?" Blair was confused as he read the long medical file. He paused and looked at the file of 'official' documents. "This isn't mentioned in the other file."
"No, it wouldn't be." Jim handed over the list naming the people who died in the accident. "I don't think they ever tried to figure out exactly who she was before either."
Blair read the names and their occupations. "What was going on? A convention for special agents and their families? Only this one here is listed as a normal family. She could have been in any of those cars..."
Jim rubbed his forehead, pensively. "According to this a DEA special agent pulled three kids from three different wrecks before the gas tanks blew. Two died and one, Fortaleza lived. Someone wanted all the adults dead, the kids were accidental, collateral damage."
"Collateral damage? We're talking about kids, man. Who takes out entire families like that? Don't answer that, I don't want to know." The anthropologist was distressed by the thought of what had occurred that night so long ago. He forced himself to calm down, to detach from the horror of the notes. "But this doesn't explain how she ended up in South America."
"Actually it does, Chief. She was raised by that agent. The same one who pulled her out of the wreckage. His name was Abraham Zelinski. He was on his way to the airport, leaving for a long term assignment in South America when he saw the whole thing go down." Jim skimmed the file, noting that in several places pages had been removed and there were references to items not in the file. "Zelinski claimed her and the agency agreed to allow him to take her once she was out of the hospital. They wanted to make sure that no one knew she was alive even if they didn't know which child she was."
"So who named her?"
"AJ came from the paramedic." Jim squinted as he read the faded notes. "She kept calling that name before she passed out. Jacobo was the name of the doctor that kept her alive. Fortaleza was the code name they gave her while she was in Bethesda Naval Hospital."
"Why Bethesda?" Blair asked, reading the medical notes. "Oh, never mind. I found it. Someone 'accidentally' gave her the wrong medication so they moved her to a more secure hospital. And then they sent her to South America..." Blair scanned a page, frowning, "it looks like they sent her almost two years later. That's some rehab time. And why send her to Peru? Why not bring Zelinski back to the US?"
Jim knew the answer to that question. He sighed. "The tribes would accept him easier if he had a child with him. He wouldn't have been considered a threat to them. Especially since they considered her blessed. . . according to the file she was DOA, but they revived her. Once that was explained to the elders of the tribe, most would have her..."
"In training with their Shaman. Yeah, you're right, it makes sense." Blair finished the sentence for his reluctant partner. "And since they were working on building an anti-drug task force among the natives, needed to move the girl, and already had Zelinski in position, they took the opportunity. This also explains why she moved so much. Being an anthropologist was a great cover. Who would look at them twice? Who would suspect an anthropologist and his ward worked for the government?"
"The perfect cover." Jim's face was grim as he thought of all the risks involved. Something wasn't quite clicking together. "But not for your average DEA agent."
"What do you think he was?"
"You don't want to know, Chief." He shook his head at the bright eyes that watched him. The only thing that made sense was that Zelinski was CIA. And if he was, so was Fortaleza.
"Well, it explains all the inconsistencies I was running into at the university." Blair commented quietly.
"What kind of inconsistencies?" The detective sat up, posture stiffening at the comment.
"I kept thinking that AJ was too young for all of this. She's younger than I am, only twenty seven, but her credentials are incredible. She's been a published author for thirteen, almost fourteen years. That puts her at thirteen when she first published." Blair looked embarrassed as he glanced at Jim. "When I was checking out one of the pieces for the museum I noticed something else that's odd. She's listed as the finder, but that expedition took place sixteen years ago, Jim. That made about her eight years old. I checked out everything I could find about her in the anthro journals, she's listed at minor archeology digs and in anthropology groups since about six months before that. It just didn't make sense before. But if she joined Zelinski when she was seven, it does."
"We don't know that she's twenty seven. According to these files she had complete amnesia. The doctor's estimate she was between four and six, maybe as old as seven, when she was admitted." Jim's mind began racing as he took in the information. "Did you find any reference to Zelinki? Or to her education? Anything that would suggest whether she ever went to school?"
"I didn't see anyone else on the digs or the in the groups with her last name. The only person who was consistently with her was Zelinski." The puzzle in his eyes was slowly clearing as he began to understand. "And I wasn't looking for school stuff."
"How old were you when you started college, sixteen?" The detective looked thoughtful.
"There's no way she was in college when she started going out on digs, man. No accredited school would take in a child that young, not full time. Maybe for a few and I mean, a few, classes. She's listed as a contributing member of the digs." Blair thought for a moment. "It's possible that she was home schooled while traveling with Zelinski. If they did that and she was tutored by the others they were working with, wow. That would be an impressive education. I mean, the names of the anthropologists and archaeologists on some of their expeditions are among the best around. That would definitely make more sense than anything else."
"You don't think she's who she says she is?" Jim's worries were growing by leaps and bounds.
"That's not it. She is who she says she is. She's too knowledgeable not to be. It's like she's more and yet less then I expected." His confusion showed on his face as he sat next to his sentinel. Blair actually blushed as he admitted, "I tested her, Jim. I've tried everything I can think of to try to trip her up and failed. I quizzed her on things that only someone who has been there would know. She answered without even thinking about it. And her pictures, they are the same clear concise wordless expressions I was expecting. In fact, just Friday, no I guess it was early last week, she got exasperated and told me to quit pussyfooting around and ask her whatever was bothering me. So I did and she laughed so hard. She said she'd have someone get her old journals out of storage and mail them to me. She is Fortaleza."
"Then what's the problem?" The sentinel focused on his guide. His heart rate was up, his breathing rapid. He watched the smaller man, trying so hard to sit still and failing. He knew Blair's instincts were good and if he was this jittery, something was wrong. "Are you sure that's what was bothering you?"
"No, I'm not. It's not quite an uneasy feeling, but I'm not sure what it is." He admitted finally. "It's like a puzzle, one that I don't have the picture for and the pieces don't seem to want to fit together. She's almost too good to be true. Until now, the only thing that didn't fit was her naïveté about life here, but now... even that makes sense."
"I think it's time for us to go talk to the lady." Jim stood, carefully closing the files. After placing them in their respective envelopes and sealing them up, he went to Simon's door. Knocking he waited for a moment before entering. "Sandburg and I will be at the University if you need us."
Captain Banks looked up, eyes curious. "Is this about those files?"
"Yes, sir. I'll explain later, if anything comes of this."
"All right. Stay out of trouble, if the two of you can." Simon spoke softly, but his worried eyes were merry enough. After all the times that his detective and the observer started out just nosing around for information and ended up in the middle of a shoot out, he was entitled to the comment. "I don't want to explain any more odd occurrences on the campus to the mayor."
"Not if I can help it, sir."
Rainier University Apartments
Blair knocked on the door, bouncing slightly. The fact that the door had been locked had startled him. As they waited, he looked around curiously. Finally he turned to Jim, "Maybe she's not here?"
"She's on the phone." The sentinel frowned, focusing on her words. "Arranging for someone to pick up crates. Let me do the talking, Sandburg."
As he spoke, the lock clicked and the door swung open. Fortaleza retreated, still arguing softly with the person on the phone. The two men followed her voice into the dining area. There the crates were carefully stacked and labeled. As they watched she quickly counted them before speaking into the phone.
"That's right. I have 12 more to be taken to the Museum and 10 for storage. Actually it is easier to work here. I can work all night if I want. I don't have to cross campus or fight the crates in that tiny office. Yes, Sandburg has been working with me. Do you not trust my judgment?" As she growled into to the phone she held up the tea kettle and raised an eyebrow. At their negative head motions she shrugged, pouring herself a cup of tea.
She listened quietly to the person on the other end of the phone, before tossing her braid over her shoulder and beginning again. She motioned for them to make themselves at home. Blair picked up the file that was sitting on the table and began to read. Jim leaned against a wall, watching the young woman handle the head of the anthropology department. "I. Like. Working. From. Here. How hard is that to understand? I don't like walking through the crowds in the building. As for the complaint, how would he know? I keep track of the hours very carefully. At this point I owe Mr. Sandburg 12 ½ hours, he owes me none. Actually, your informant is wrong, he is here now. He's been doing research for me. It sounds like your informant is ... um, jealous, I believe the word is. Yes, I understand. I'll oversee the collection in the morning."
Hanging up the phone, she turned around to face the two men, noting that Sandburg was busy skimming through his file. Fortaleza raised an eyebrow at his expression. Sipping her tea, she grinned at Jim's quiet expression. "So does he get to work with me? Or should I move to the offices, that way you know I am not a threat to him."
"You're not a threat. Cage might be." Jim's words startled both anthropologists. Fortaleza set her cup down, eyes wary. Blair sat up, closing his file. "You act as a forerunner, getting information before anyone else gets sent in. Cage is the one who does all of the dirty work. So why are you here?"
"I'm here because Zel needs someone to handle this exhibit for him." Fortaleza kept her eyes on Jim, watching him like a person would watch a dangerous animal. "He has always taken care of me. Now I have a chance to take care of him. Maybe, I get to pay some of the debt I owe him."
"He's your guardian, how can you owe him anything?" Blair's voice was soft.
"If you had the chance to take care of your mother, would you back away from it?" Fortaleza glanced over at the young man before turning back to watch the detective. "Or would you drop everything to go help her?"
Jim let his senses range over the young woman, knowing that Blair would keep an eye out for any zones. Her heart rate was calm, but not controlled. Her voice calm, curious but not scared. The scent was again calm. He almost grinned as he recognized the scent of the herbs. She had done some serious meditating over the weekend. "Why you and not someone else? Why didn't Cage stay with you?"
"I'm the only one who has a chance at understanding Zel's intentions for this exhibit. Besides, I'd been meaning to come to the US for a while. I've just been busy." The slight elevation of her heart rate, the slight bitter tinge of fear in her scent gave her away. This time Jim did grin, a small cold flicker at the corner of his lips. "As for Cage, no one ties Cage down. Not me, not anyone."
"Who do you really work for? What agency?" His voice was hard, accusing, his eyes measuring every minute change in her posture.
"I don't work for anyone. I get hired as a guide, a go-between, or an interpreter for expeditions." Fortaleza's voice snapped back at him. She glanced over at Blair but his calm expression made it obvious that he was letting Ellison handle this situation. She went back to watching the quiet man leaning against the wall. "I am not dangerous. Not to you and not to Sandburg."
"What would you do if I said I don't believe you?"
She looked away, glancing at Blair. A frown formed and then disappeared as she looked from guide to sentinel, catching the slight tension in the younger man as he focused on the older one. She instantly understood, the guide was watching his sentinel, keeping an eye on his use of his senses. Time to speak only the truth., but she had to do it without revealing everything.
"You lived among the Chopec, right?" She waited for the slow nod. She didn't know if the anthropologist had told his friend that she knew who he was and didn't want to startle him. Carefully bracing herself for his reaction, she turned up the left sleeve of her T-shirt. When Jim's eyes focused on the tattoos, she began speaking, her words measured and emotionless. "I am of the Walks Through tribe, the Chopec called us the people who walk between the worlds. It is what we call the end times and I have been sent north. I would have come whether or not there was anyone else who could do Zel's job. I am honor bound to be here. I want nothing from you or from Sandburg except his assistance with the exhibit. As soon as the season is over and my purpose here done, I go home."
"What? But they don't exist! They're just a myth!" Blair's startled words made her smile.
"They exist Chief." Jim spoke quietly. The woman was calm, her breathing and heart rate normal. He studied her, wondering what was missing. "What else is involved?"
"Nothing for you or for Sandburg. I am here to honor my maystru's promise." She watched him think over her words. After a moment, he raised an eyebrow at her, telling her he had noted the internal hesitation. Yielding to the necessity, AJ pulled a necklace over her head and handed it to him. The shocked look on his face told her he recognized it's significance. "I promise you this, under my oath as sagrada del tribu, Sandburg will come to no harm that I can prevent."
The sentinel heard the promise in her words, in her voice and felt it echo through all of his senses. His eyes measured the woman before him as his fingers traced the pattern carved into the stone she had handed him. Incacha had worn an amulet like this one and he had told Enqueri that an oath on that amulet bound the soul for all time. He nodded, accepting the vow.
"Are you two going to explain what just happened?" Blair's voice broke the silence. Both looked at each other and then shook their heads negatively, turning to meet curious eyes.
"She passed, Chief." Jim's face was calm, quiet. "But I still want to know where all the information about Sandburg came from."
"So do I. This is amazing." Blair's voice was awed, as he stroked the file's cover.
"I asked Cage. This was given to me after I arrived. I never asked for where it came from." AJ shrugged at the men's frowns. "Sorry."
"And you won't ask him, will you?" Jim found himself relaxing. He knew that Fortaleza's promise was good. And if anything ever happened to her, her tribe would honor it. Blair was safer with her than he would be at most crime scenes.
"No." Fortaleza focused on the detective and noticing that the tension had left, grinned at him. "That would be rude."
"Oh, we don't want to be rude." Blair quipped.
"Cheqaq?" Is that so? Jim asked at the same moment.
Fortaleza looked from one to the other, eyes wide. At her confusion, Blair began to chuckle. She wrinkled her nose at him and shook her head. She should have know he still spoke fluent Quechua. "Remind me to watch my tongue around him, please?"
"Nah, that would be no fun. I think I'll just let you get into trouble on your own."
"Thank you ever so much." She grimaced at the amused look the two men shared. "So, since I
pass your questioning, do I get my assistant back?"
"Bright and early tomorrow morning, he's all yours."
"Hey, man! Not too early, we have another late stakeout tonight."
"I'll be here." AJ commented quietly. "Well, I'll be here after I go to the museum in the morning."
"How about I meet you there?"
"Done. Tomorrow at the museum." AJ stood, grabbing her camera bag as an alarm went off. "I have a class. Please, lock the door as you leave. And Blair? I received my journals over the weekend. They're on the second shelf if you still want to read them." With that, she turned and headed for the door.
"Fortaleza?" Jim's voice made her freeze. "Are you sure you trust us?"
Fortaleza looked him curiously. "Of course I do. I've known that for a while, Detective Ellison. After all, between his gentleness and your honesty, I have nothing to worry about."
####
It was only after she was certain they were gone that AJ relaxed. She'd done it. No mention of the Cult, the missing tablets, the threats to sentinel and guide. The king knife had stayed silent in the presence of the sentinel and the guide didn't know enough to react to it. She closed her eyes and sighed. Now if she could only find the missing tablets before they were used.
