Author's note: disclaimers and notes from chapter one still apply.
"*text*" indicates another language is being spoken, I will usually indicate what language before or after.
Found Guide and Forced Cooperation
Jim Ellison was starting to get frustrated. It had been two years since he had resigned his commission and left the army. Two years since those fools had pushed Blair Sandburg into his life only to rip the young man away from him maybe a day later. Two years of using the dials and the memory of his Guide to keep his heightened senses under control. He growled lowly, causing several others in the bullpen to scurry out of his way. Not noticing, or caring, Jim continued thinking of how the anthropology student had explained that he was a Sentinel, that the superhuman senses were normal for one and that historically a Sentinel needed a Guide to keep them grounded. The drugs that had been slipped to them both had caused some important details to become fuzzy. Jim knew his Guide's name, that the kid was a grad student working on his doctorate, that Blair went to Rainier University here in Cascade. He could recall the other's scent, the sound of his voice and heartbeat but not his Guide's face. Jim had joined the police department to ensure he could protect his city and keep his promise to find his Guide again. Fate had intervened on multiple occasions, preventing him from getting close enough to the university campus to try to filter through everything in an effort to pinpoint Blair. Six months as a beat cop, six months in Vice, and the last year in Major Crimes. Pausing to take a deep breath, Jim knocked on his boss's door.
"Come in," Captain Simon Banks barked. Simon hoped his most effective, and currently most irritable, detective was finally ready to explain why his attitude had been getting progressively worse over the past month. As Jim stepped inside the office and closed the door, Simon noted the pained look on the other's face. "Headache?" he asked in a slightly quieter tone. At the nod of confirmation, the older man sighed. "Jim, what is going on? You've been growling and snapping at nearly everyone for most of a month. Did something happen on that solo stakeout?"
"Yeah, the dials started to slip," Jim muttered. "What dials?" At the detective's startled look, Simon sighed. "You just told me the dials started to slip during or after that stakeout a month back. I think it's past time for an explanation. Spill it."
"Honestly, I doubt you'd believe me," Jim replied. "Hell, if the kid hadn't made so much sense when he explained it, I might not've believed it myself. Please try to keep an open mind, sir." At Simon's indication to continue, Jim began to relay all the information on Sentinels to his boss as it had been given to him two years prior. Somehow he managed to condense a multi hour lecture into a significantly shorter explanation. The bit about Sentinels needing Guides caught his captain's attention. "So you think this Sandburg kid is your Guide?" Banks asked. "Yes," came the firm reply. "Permission to take the rest of the day off to try to find him?" "Granted, just keep me apprised of your progress."
Jim parked just off campus and began to make his way over to Hargrove Hall, home of the anthropology department. As he was crossing the street, his senses jumped out, trying to latch onto something and he zoned.
Blair was walking towards the edge of campus when he spotted a man standing in the middle of the road. A truck horn blared and the Guide's head whipped to the side. A semi was bearing down on the man in the road. Blair ran, tackling the vaguely familiar figure out of harm's way. Panting, the anthropologist sat up and began to try to bring the other back around.
"Come on, man, wake up. Please wake up, you damn near gave me a heart attack. Why do you look familiar? Time to wake up, big guy," he coaxed, gently shaking the other. Suddenly the ice blue eyes snapped back into focus and the man sat up.
Eyes locked, Jim smiled softly, absently noting the addition of two silver hoops in the younger man's left ear lobe even as he gently reached out to touch Blair's cheek, "I found you, Blair. My Guide." Blair gasped, eyes wide. "Jim," he breathed before his eye rolled back and he slumped to the side.
Jim caught Blair much like he had before and growled at the sight of a tranquilizer dart in his Guide's shoulder. There was a sharp pain in his own shoulder before darkness claimed the Sentinel, his last conscience thought, "I will not lose you again."
A violent jolt jerked the Guide awake, an arm across his chest preventing him from being thrown into the cab of the old army truck they were riding in. Jim was growling, his instinct to protect his Guide coming across as near feral. "Easy, Jim, tell me what's going on before you go all Army Ranger on these guys," Blair said in what he hoped was a soothing tone only for his Sentinel to growl out, "They kidnapped us and took us out of the country. I don't trust them and *I think we're in Paru. The scents and sounds I'm picking up are just like I remember from my time with the Chopec.*" "Jim, why are you speaking Quechua?" The Sentinel shrugged and replied with a question of his own, "*Can you understand this tongue, Blair? If I'm right this may be our primary tongue for the foreseeable future.*"
"*Some, recall little from lessons mentor gave me. Accecptable?*" Blair answered, the words sounding broken even to his own ears. Jim nodded, switching back to English, "Good enough, Chief."
One of the guards pressed a button on a handheld radio and spoke, "They're awake, boss, and it sounds like at least Ellison is fluent in the local language. Kid's got a rough grasp on it too. We almost there? 'cause I don't know how long this kid'll be able to keep soldier boy here in line." A burst of static and, "Almost, just keep Ellison quelled for now. And don't hurt him! Use the kid if you got to but not a scratch on Ellison, ya hear?" "Yeah, I hear ya, boss."
The orders from the squawk box had Jim baring his teeth and trying to place his Guide firmly behind him. Roughly 30 minutes later the truck came to a halt and they were herded out and into a clearing. Jim instantly recognized the area as part of the Chopec territory and quickly located the warriors hidden in the surrounding jungle. A man in a three piece suit was standing beside a table in front of a tent that looked like it belonged on the set of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Jim caught Blair's eye roll and decided to address the obvious boss.
"Excuse me, sir, what exactly do you need us for?" The Sentinel asked, trying to keep his tone polite. "Negotiations. The locals don't speak English and I need the mineral rights to this piece of land. You speak the language and have good repore with the tribe," the man replied without looking up. A shout from the edge of the clearing had the business man glancing up then stepping forward to greet the group emerging from the forest.
Incacha was surprised to hear that Enqueri had returned with the outsider's hired warriors. He suspected that their Sentinel hadn't been brought here willingly. The fact that he sensed a young Guide with untrained Shaman abilities nearby only strengthened that thought in the Chopec Shaman's mind. If Enqueri and his Guide had been captured by the outsider's men, then did the outsider mean to trade the Sentinel and Guide for the 'mineral rights' he had spoken of? Better to find out what the outsider's goal was sooner rather than later. "Enqueri, *welcome back. Have you found your Guide as I said you would?*
Jim turned his head, a smile spreading across his face as he led, or rather herded, the young man at his side over to greet his old friend. "*Incacha, hello and yes, I have. Blair, this is Incacha, the Shaman of the Chopec tribe, and this is Blair, my Guide.*"
"If you're done greeting their representative, I need you to translate and draw up a contract," the business man cut in, sounding annoyed. Clearly he was used to being the most important person in the room as well as having the most power. "*Fool, proud man thinks him headman of world*" Blair muttered, causing Incacha to raise an eyebrow and Jim to chuckle.
"What are your terms? And I'll need two sheets of paper to write everything out," Ellison replied. "I want the mineral rights to this tract of land in exchange for returning you to the tribe. The kid can stay too but my men will deal with him if he causes any trouble, got it?" the other snapped with impatience.
Jim nodded and quickly and efficiently drew up the requested contract… in Quechua. He wrote that the land and mineral rights would be leased to the businessman's company until such time as the man's dubious business practices came to light and the proper authorities came to retrieve the hostages being used to force the Chopec's cooperation. He even included his and Blair's names in hopes that whoever the other man got to translate the contract would report it. Once the contract was signed and each party had secured their copy, the businessman and half of his mercenaries left. Now all they had to do was wait.