Title : A Dish Best Served Cold
Series: Upgrade #10
Author: Y. S. McCool
Rating: PG-13
Date  : 3 March 1998

Disclaimer: I do not own The Sentinel characters, nor do I
make a claim on them.  Established characters are the
property of Pet Fly Productions and UPN.  Original
characters are the sole property of the author.


                          Upgrade # 10
                    A Dish Best Served Cold
                          By YS McCool


The medical examinations were going well.  Simon had worried
that not enough of his people would take advantage of the
free exams, but they were almost at capacity.  He had been
the first official patient, giving the project his full
endorsement and putting his people's minds at ease.

Simon had expected Blair to beg off, since he, Jim, and
Maxine had only returned to duty the day before, but Blair
was the first through the door and would probably be the
last one out.

"How about some coffee, Blair?" Simon offered.

"That would be so good, man," Blair moaned gratefully.  "I
had no idea there were so many people in this department."

"There aren't.  The word has spread, and you've got
retirees, support staff, officers from other regions, and
anybody else who can get clearance to this floor."  The
captain poured the smaller man a cup of coffee.  "I know
it's a lot of extra work, but I wouldn't feel comfortable
turning down people seeking medical advice."

"Don't worry about it, Simon.  This is what I said I would
do," Blair insisted.

The captain relaxed.  "Thanks, Blair.  I owe you one."

"No problem, Simon."  The doctor took a sip of the coffee. 
"By the way, have you seen Jim?  He was supposed to be
here."

"He got a call and asked for a few personal hours," Simon
explained.


                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Jim nervously paced the waiting area at the transport
station.  It had been over 10 years, almost 11, since he had
seen any of the five survivors from his team.  At first it
was guilt, because he had been their commander, and he had
failed to bring them home safely.  Later, it was just easier
to not try and track them down.  Now, it was a full-grown
habit to avoid even thinking about them.

"Captain?" a familiar masculine voice called.

Jim studied Jeffrey Payton as he walked down the ramp.  He
was older--the years had passed quite noticeably on his
face.  The military short haircut had been replaced with a
surprisingly thick and long fall of tight braids, New Africa
style.  The limp he had been sporting when he and Jim had
last seen each other was gone, along with the dull
medicated look.  Jim embraced his friend, relearning his
scent and relishing the sound of the other man's steady
voice.

"It's good to see you, Jeff."  Jim patted the larger man's
back.

"I was worried you wouldn't come," Jeff admitted.

Jim stepped back.  They had not parted well.  He had been
too caught up in his own pain for that, but Jeff had been
under his command, and there was little he wouldn't have
done for the man.  "Jeff, you said you needed my help. 
That's all I needed to hear."  He looked down at the two
bags his friend was carrying.  "Is that all your gear?"

"Travel light, that's still my motto," Jeff quipped.

Jim took one of the bags, and the two men fell into a
synchronized stride as they left the waiting area.  They
boarded the train and due to the hour, found themselves
alone in the car.  "Do you want to wait until we get to my
place to tell me what's going on?"

"Dhargel is out of prison," Jeff reported with a cold, dead
voice.

"What?!?" Jim shrieked, causing several passengers in the
forward car to turn and stare.  Ellison waved to let them
know he was alright.  Thank goodness he was in uniform. 
Otherwise, they might have rushed back to rescue him.

"They let him out last month.  He showed up at my kid's
school and pinned this to his jacket."  Payton passed a
square of bright green paper to Ellison.

Jim didn't know Jeff had married and had a kid.  He
never thought of his lone wolf friend as the type to marry. 
He ended his musings and studied the item in his hand. The
paper made the Sentinel's flesh crawl.  The color in itself
was a message, light green, or "mucus green" as they called
it when he was a Ranger, for biological threat.

He read:

     "Revenge is a dish best served cold.  See how
     easy it was for me to touch what's yours.  You
     took everything from me and now, I'm taking 
     everything from Team Falcon."

Jim looked up into the tortured eyes of his friend.  "Your
son?"

"He's in isolation.  He has smallpox," Jeff reported, tears
brimming in his eyes.

"What's that?" Jim had to ask.

"Some old disease.  It wasn't supposed to exist anymore.  We
thought he might die."  Payton beat the wall of the train. 
"Jim, Pip is five years old.  He wasn't even born when this
mess started, and now he's paying for it.  Hell, Dhargel
might come back for my wife."

"No, he won't," Jim said firmly.  "Whatever the price, we
end this now."  Ellison leaned back in his seat as the train
raced from the outskirts of Buenos Aires, Argentina and
headed toward Cascade.  Kirk Dhargel would pay.  Jim
would make sure of that because he hadn't made sure of it
before.


Dhargel had been a Colonel in the Deep Space Rangers
until his ambition had toppled him.  Team Falcon, Jim's
command, had been assigned a ship that had been
captured during the Beta Thurmond skirmish between the
Rangers and the pirates who claimed that territory for their
own.  

Using that ship, Ellison and his team had been able to
infiltrate a large pirate contingency, find out when and
where they would raid, and feed that information back to the
fleet.  Every captain and executive officer in the fleet had
sealed orders to only engage "The Sentry" in low-powered
combat if they were ever to cross paths.  Dhargel had
acknowledged those orders as the Captain of his ship.  It
was vital that their cover never be blown.

To avoid combat, Ellison had unleashed the imaginations of
his people to come up with clever ways of working their way
around the fleet.  Among the pirates, they developed a
reputation for ingenious maneuvers and daring raids.

"The Sentry" struck Dhargel's convoy on four separate
occasions, stealing supplies and leaving messages.  On
their fifth engagement, Dhargel tried to blow Ellison's crew
out of the stars.  

They were boarded, beaten, and left to rot in the brig while
Dhargel took the slow route back to the starbase.  Three of
Ellison's crew died in the primary assault, and five died
during the boarding, even though they had surrendered.

On the way to the starbase, ten of Jim's many times
decorated veterans died while trying to make it on one-
quarter rations, one-half liter of water a day, and with
untreated wounds.  During the nine days it took for them to
arrive at the base, they had no contact with any member of
Dhargel's crew.  He doubted many of them knew any of the
"pirates" had survived the boarding.

When Jim was dumped on the floor in front of the starbase
commander, he could only speak one sentence before he
lapsed into an eight-day coma.  "Captain James Ellison,
Team Falcon, project 'Wolf in Sheep's Clothing'."

He awoke in a hospital ward to find his parents keeping
vigil.  The mourning candles were already in the holders so
that he would have flames to escort his soul into the next
life.

"Water," he croaked.  His father called for the doctors
while his mother eased the water down his throat.  "My
team?"

"Pedersen, Payton, Mohammed, Sellers, and Ng survived,"
General Catherine Ellison reported.

Jim had wanted to scream, six more had died while he was
out of commission, he had lost twenty-four people.  Gods!!! 
"Dhargel?"

"He's already been convicted of 24 counts of murder, 30
counts of assault, disobeying a direct order resulting in
death, and 12 counts of negligence," Catherine reported.

"Did I miss the execution?" Jim asked.  He so wanted to see
that.

Catherine looked very uncomfortable.  "They gave him life
instead."

"What?  No!  No!  He killed my people.  He has to die!"  Jim
became hysterical and was sedated by the newly arriving
doctors. 

Dhargel was very well connected.  His family had arranged
for him to receive life instead of the death sentence his
actions had warranted.  They had been able to convince the
tribunal that his actions were the result of him cracking
under the strain of almost constant combat. 

Now the bastard was out of prison.  

"How, Jeff?  How did that sonofabitch get out?" Jim
demanded.

"He's been 'cured' according to the 'experts'.  Now,
everyone is looking for him because of what he did to my
kid," Jeff reported.  "I've got a room full of people
apologizing, but that doesn't help me, my son, or my wife. 
It also doesn't help the rest of Team Falcon."

"Have you contacted anyone else?" Jim asked, not knowing
where he would start to find the surviving members of his
decimated crew.

"Yes, they are all coming here," Jeff responded.  "Pedersen
and I keep in contact, and she knew where everyone was.  I
just need to find us a modestly priced hotel for us to meet
at."

"You can meet at my place," Jim offered.

Jeff snorted.  "Jim, thanks for the offer, but RO living
quarters are notoriously small.  We'll chip in for a suite."

"I live with a friend, and he has plenty of room," Jim
promised.  "Plus, we reside in a secured and gated
community."

Payton's brows rose at that statement.  Jim could feel the
phrase KEPT MAN being attached to him.  "I don't want to
mess up things for you with your lover."

Jim chuckled.  Jeff was not the first person to assume he
was Blair's property, which he was, but not in the way
people would think.  "Blair's not mine.  I couldn't afford
his upkeep.  His hair alone would bankrupt me."  He smiled.  
"But, you'll like him.  Hell, you'll love him.  He's a good
man, and a friend--a real good friend."

During the two-hour ride, Jim caught up with Jeff and his
life since leaving the Rangers.  Like Jim, the thought of
going back to work with the people who had so betrayed them
had left a bitter taste in Payton's mouth.  Instead, he had
cashed out and proposed to Lucille Barnes, who Jim
remembered as a somewhat mousy little supply clerk who could
barely bring her eyes away from her terminal when Jim was
speaking to her.

Jim had handed over his retirement account for Steven to
manage, but Jeffrey had bought land on Paradisia and had
orchards of peaches, plums, nectarines, and macadamia
nuts.  Jeffrey had been one of the most lethal assault
specialists Jim had ever had the privilege to know.  It
was difficult to think of him as a family man who farmed
fruits and nuts, but people changed.  Ellison certainly had.

When they arrived at Jim's neighborhood, Jeff had been
stunned.  Ellison had lived here for over nine months, and
he took everything around him for granted.  This wasn't just
where he stayed; this was his home.  

Mike, the guard at the gate, handed over several packages
that had been delivered for Jim and Blair, reminded Jim
about the neighborhood council meeting, tried to wheedle the
details of Hawthorne's big birthday bash out of him, added
Jeffrey to the visitors list, and let them in.

"Wow, I've never been in a gated community."  They strolled
down the street, survived a puppy drool attempt by Mme.
Poinsett's collie, and managed to dash into the house before
Doctor Cedric Hargrove could engage them in "If I were
running the Human Sphere" gossip.  "How long have you lived
here?  Everyone seems to know you."

"Just a little more than nine months."  Jim automatically
separated the parcels, checked his messages, and then
took Jeff upstairs to his room.  "Hawthorne, I'm home and
I've brought a guest."

"Very good, sir."  Hawthorne attempted to take Jeff's bags.

"We'll take care of that, Hawthorne.  This is a member of my
old command, Jeffrey Payton," Jim explained.  "Jeffrey this
is Cecil Hawthorne, he runs the house."

"Good to meet you," Jeff said as he shook Hawthorne's
hand.

"Perhaps Sir will find the green guestroom to his liking,"
Hawthorne suggested.  Blair liked to name his guestrooms
after the primary color of their decorations.  The green
bedroom faced the front of the house and had a beautiful bay
window.

"Excellent choice, Hawthorne," Jim said appreciatively. 
"I'm expecting four more guests within a few hours.  They'll
all need separate rooms."  Now that they were home, Jim
could let Jeffrey contact everyone and get them routed to
the house.

Hawthorne studied Jim's face for a moment.  "Perhaps, I
should take the household security level up to say... a
five."  That was one notch below the highest possible
setting.

"Good idea, Hawthorne."  Jim led Jeff upstairs to the green
room.

"You live in the main house?" Jeff asked, astonished.

"Yes."  He opened the door to the guestroom and ushered
Jeff inside.  "Here you go."

"Are you sure your roommate won't mind?" Jeff asked, looking
around the huge room.

The Green Room had a hand-painted mural of children and
Guardians on a green hill watching the clouds, sharing a
picnic, playing ball, and napping.  It was a very serene and
calming scene and Jim would sometimes come in here just to
view it.

"Blair loves company.  He'll also want to help."  Jim wasn't
sure how he felt about that.  Dhargel was dangerous,
ruthless, and not likely to care about who else paid for
what he would consider to be Jim's "sin".  "You get settled. 
The bathroom is right through this door, it's private. I
need to go and start dinner."

"You can cook?" Jeff asked, eyes huge.  When they knew each
other, Jim had difficulty preparing anything that wasn't MRE
(Meals Ready to Eat).

"Yes."  Jim crossed his arms.  "Why do you ask?"

"Jim, when we were in space, you couldn't boil water without
burning it, even if you had written instructions," Jeff
reminded him unkindly.

"People change and mature," Jim said simply.  "You did."

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Blair hadn't pulled this long a medical shift since his
intern days when you had to be on duty for sixteen hours
straight.  At least back then, he had spent half that time
sleeping.  

Today he had treated everything from compacted earwax to
spasmodic chip failure.  Right now, all he wanted was a
meal and a bed.  Not necessarily in that order.

He could hear many voices coming from the family room. 
Before he could peek in and say hi, Jim stepped out.  "Hi,
Chief.  I need to talk to you."

"Okay, just let me say hello to the gang," Blair said as he
tried to go around Jim.

"That's what I want to talk to you about," Jim explained. 
"That's not the gang; it's my old squad in there."

"Really?" Blair asked, surprised.  "I didn't know you were
still in contact with any of them."

"I wasn't," Jim answered and he plunged his hands deep into
this pants pockets.  "We've got an old enemy and some new
problems."

Blair didn't like the sound of that.  He followed Jim into
the kitchen.  He sat down and waited while Jim filled a
plate for him. He tasted the spaghetti and gave Jim the
thumbs up.  "Okay, talk."

"Dhargel is out of prison," Jim reported with no warning at
all.

Sandburg nearly shot out of his chair.  "Who would release
that monster?"  Blair was stunned.  The man had outright
murdered twenty-four people.

"Some bubble-head decided he was cured," Jim reported. 
"They released him, and the first thing he did was to infect
Payton's five-year-old son with smallpox."

Blair reeled.  Smallpox?  Good God.  "What does the
military have to say for itself?"

"Not much.  Dhargel is a civilian problem now," Jim
explained, looking tired, angry, and possibly homicidal.

"Is Retrieval on the case?" Blair asked hopefully.

Jim placed his hand on Blair's shoulder, effectively keeping
him from getting up and pacing a rut into the kitchen floor. 
"No, until he's spotted on another planet, he is under the
jurisdiction of the Paradisia police."

Blair stared.  "Jim, I have holdings on Paradisia.  I didn't
even know that they had a police department."

"Four sheriffs and twenty deputies for the entire
continent," Jim explained, looking somewhat hopeless.

Blair shook his head.  "What can I do to help?"

Jim's head snapped up.  "Chief, this is not your fight."

"Jim, this is a family matter," Blair explained sternly. 
"If the man, and I use that term loosely, will attack a
five-year-old child, he would not hesitate at all to target
Claudia.  I won't let anything happen to her."  Blair gave
his friend what he hoped was his best intimidating stare. 
It didn't work because Jim was smiling.

Ellison raised his hands in mock surrender.  "To tell you
the truth, Blair, we could use you.  If Burundi had
survived, we would have relied on her to do some of our
higher reasoning, but she died in the brig.  Oh, Chief, you
would have really liked her.  She was as tall as Maxine,
maybe a little taller, but much more slender.  Eleanor was
born on New Africa, so I naturally assumed she would be a
very serious young woman, but I think she had one of the
raunchiest senses of humor in anyone I have ever met."  Jim
paused.  "I had forgotten them, Chief.  I pushed their
ghosts aside like they didn't matter because it hurt too
much to think about my people being dead."  Ellison sounded
close to tears, which was Blair's signal to step in.

Blair hugged the taller man tightly.  It had taken some time
to get Jim used to sudden and intense physical contact which
didn't immediately lead to something sexual.  Steven was
almost as bad.  Blair considered making the two Ellison boys
relaxed around hugs, sudden kisses, and hair ruffling to be
one of his many goals in life.  "We'll bring him in, Jim,"
Blair promised.  They were still hugging when an extremely
muscular man with slightly Asian features walked in.

"Jim?"  He paused.  "Sorry."

"It's okay," Jim promised as he pulled back from Blair.  "Ng
Wai, this is Blair Sandburg."

The two men shook hands and sized each other up.  "It's
good to meet you.  I was starting to wonder if Jim was
making you up," Ng announced.

"He is.  I'm just a figment of your imagination," Blair
assured the larger man.

"I've always been very imaginative."  He gave a little nod
to Blair.  "Jim, General Ellison has returned our call."

"Excuse me, Chief."  Jim headed back to the family room.

Ng looked at Blair.  "I hope we haven't inconvenienced you
by taking over your home?"

"No problem, man.  I want to help in any way that I can." 
Blair walked toward the family room.  "Come on, I want to
see what they have found out."

"... it was a screw up from the word 'go'," General Joseph
Ellison was saying.  "Black OPS thought they had him in the
bag for a two-percenter, and he jumped ship at the first
refueling station."

"Two-percenter?" Blair inquired of the lone woman in the
room.

The blonde woman, who Blair noted was both very petite and
very dangerous looking, smiled at him.  "A mission
with a two percent chance of returning alive."

Blair frowned.  "Eeeww."

She snorted at his expression before turning back to the
screen where Joseph Ellison loomed larger than life.

"Heads are going to roll on this one, son.  You can count on
that."  General Ellison leaned back toward someone who
was whispering in his ear.

Blair watched Jim take in the conversation that none of them
could possibly hear.  "Damn," the Sentinel mumbled.

"Sorry, everyone.  The source of the smallpox virus has
been identified as research station Zebra Five in the
Marigold ring.  It was just sixteen hours travel from the
refueling station where they lost Dhargel."

"Was?" Mohammed asked.

"The entire staff is dead, and nine vials of viruses are
missing," General Ellison reported.  "Here is the list."

Blair didn't faint, but it was a near thing.  What was the
military doing with Smallpox, Ebola, Genri, Hobulim, and
Bubonic Plague?

"Have we gotten a priority level yet?" Jim asked calmly.

"Yes, Red-1."

Blair had no idea what Red-1 meant.  He looked back for
Ng.  "Red-1?"

"Only Gold-1, or Invasion, has a higher priority.  All
military and civilian resources will be made available to
stop this man."

Joseph looked past Jim to see Blair standing in the room. 
Their eyes met.  "Jim, please tell me you don't have any
intention of taking Blair on this mission," the older man
begged.

"I want to help, Joe," Blair said.  "I'm a doctor who has
actually had some experience with some of these viruses."

"Blair, civilians, and that includes most of you, shouldn't
be involved in this case at all," General Ellison insisted.

"It's too late for that, Father.  Much too late.  I'll get
back with you."  With that, Jim severed the connection.  He
turned back to his friends.  "Comments?"

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" the woman asked as she
pointed towards Blair.

"Sorry.  Everyone this is my partner, roommate, teacher, and
friend, Doctor Blair Sandburg, insert impossibly long line
of letters, which illustrate the fact that he is very smart,
gets along well with others, paid attention in class, and
can apply what he has learned."  Jim paused for the
laughter.  "Blair, you've met Ng, professional bodyguard. 
This is Natalie Pedersen, bounty hunter extraordinaire."  He
indicated the fair-skinned blonde woman.  "Elijah, or EJ as
we call him, Mohammed, weapons designer."  He pointed to the
bronze skinned bald man.  "Jeffrey Payton, farmer."  Jim
touched the shoulder of the only man in the room who was
larger than himself.  "And Ace Sellars."  The last man was
seated with his head cradled in his hands.  He was tall,
well built, tanned, with waist-length auburn hair.

"Currently unemployed," Sellars mumbled.

Blair crossed the room to the final man and touched his
shoulder.  "Are you all right?"  The man looked up.  His
silver eyes glinted, and his Cupid's bow lips suddenly
formed into an O, illuminating his handsome face.  Without a
word he grasped Blair's fingers and pressed them to his
lips.

"Empath," he finally whispered.

"You're an empath?" Blair asked.

"No, you are," Ace explained.

Confused, Blair looked up at Jim.  The taller man made the
"okay" sign and pressed it to his forehead, the sign of a
very strong psychic talent.

"When did your talent manifest?" Blair asked, concerned for
the man.

"While I was starving to death in the brig.  I died three
times in three weeks, Blair.  My heart stopped during the
boarding, I died in the brig, and I died in the hospital." 
The older man held onto Blair's hands.  "You're a true
healer.  Such a rare gift.  Do you really want to go with
us?  There will be death, Healer.  Many, many deaths."

"If I don't go, will there be less death?" Blair asked,
seriously.

Ace looked very sad.  "No, there will be more."

"Well, it's settled then."  Blair did not attempt to remove
his hands from Ace.  Holding them seemed to comfort the
former Ranger.  He listened to the others strategize. 
Despite his protestations to the contrary, he really could
listen.

Jim had the greatest handle on the situation.  Dhargel
wanted them all to pay for his incarceration, and more
importantly, his fall from grace.

Jeffery was the only one of them who had married.  Jim was
the only other person in a committed relationship.  The rest
of them had been loners when they joined the Rangers, and
they were still loners after they had left.  That severely
limited Dhargel's targets.

While they talked, Ace slowly released Blair's hands, but
kept some kind of physical contact with the smaller man
until they all retired for the night.  

Blair made some calls while composing a list of things he
needed to take care of while they waited for Dhargel to
make his move.  The doctor had no doubts about what the
former Ranger would do.  The questions were when, where,
and who would pay for the man's madness?

He was climbing under the covers when someone knocked
on the door.  Thinking it was Jim, Blair called out, "Come
in."

Natalie peeked around the door.  "Are you decent?"

"As decent as I get," Blair quipped.  The woman had been a
Ranger; nudity was not going to offend her.  But he was
actually dressed this night because Jet wasn't here to
insist on bare skin.

She snickered, then came into the room.  "Boy, you do love
books.  Every room has some prominently displayed."

"My true weakness."  He slipped on his robe as his pajamas
were very comfortable, but left little to the imagination. 
They were from Beltiz, and purchased with the goal of
inflaming Jet's, and only Jet's, passion for him.  They had
worked, though Jet had insisted all Blair really needed was
reasonably clean skin.

"What can I do for you, Natalie?" he asked, ready to be the
excellent host he'd been raised to be.

"I would like a First Night with you," she said, invoking
the Beltiz ceremony of initial sexual exploration.

"I am flattered you believe I would be able to satisfy
you, but I am in a committed relationship.  Perhaps one of
the others?" he suggested, slightly sad he couldn't fulfill
his guest's request.

Natalie frowned.  "It would be like sleeping with your
brother."  She paused.  "Is Hawthorne seeing anyone?"

"No, he is free."  Hawthorne may have been mature, but he
was quite capable of pleasing a lady.  Blair had heard that
from a very talkative lady at a cocktail party of all
places.  She went on and on until Blair was forced to fake a
medical call to escape.  He never thought of Hawthorne as
harmless around his female relatives again.

"Excellent."  She headed toward the door with a determined
stride that caused a slight bit of worry for Blair.

"Natalie," he called.

She turned back toward him, smiling.  "Yes?"

"I'm expecting breakfast in the morning," he declared. 
"Take it easy on the man."

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


They only had to wait for eight days before Dhargel made
contact.  Joseph Ellison had personally taken Lucille and
Adam Payton into protective custody, allowing all of Team
Falcon to concentrate on the task at hand.

Maxine had been added to the core team to support Jim, as
he was to act as the official RO liaison in the joint
military and civilian operation.  She had an instant fan in
EJ.  Robert, somehow sensing someone was stepping onto
his territory, had shown up one night and made sure the
much larger man knew Maxine was taken.  Jim admired
Rosenberg's nerve.  EJ could intimidate entire legions.

On their second night at the house, Jim had to head his
friends off when they had gathered together, except for Ace,
to offer Blair money for food and lodgings.  The last thing
he wanted them to do was to insult Blair's hospitality. 
Other than that small bobble, there'd been no troubles.

They were clearing away the breakfast dishes when the call
came in.   The connection had been placed to Pedersen's
home, but had been rerouted to Blair's comm center.

"Lt. Pedersen, I believe you know who I am."  Dhargel's
pasty white features filled the comm screen.

"I'm not a lieutenant anymore, Dhargel," Natalie hissed.

"It doesn't matter, my dear."  The screen changed to a photo
of Natalie in her uniform and receiving a medal.  "You're
still a *hero*, and you will do what is in your nature."

"That includes killing your sorry ass," Natalie reminded
him.

The screen changed back to Dhargel's face and he was
frowning, which actually seemed to improve his looks, at
least as far as Jim could tell.  "Do you know what I like
about you, Pedersen?"

"My mind-blowing body?" Natalie asked proudly.

"Your ability to breach security," Dhargel answered, "though
your body comes in a close second," he added.

"The train is leaving, and the people are waving," Natalie
prompted as she waved and showed her impatience.

"I want you to get the Montrose Jewelry collection from the
Walters Gallery," Dhargel announced.  The Walters Gallery
was in Atlanta and was home to some of the most fabulous
family jewelry collections.  Naomi had once told Jim that
people lent their collections to the Walters Gallery so they
wouldn't have to insure them or pay for security.  Many
people considered the Walters Gallery to be better than a
bank vault.

Natalie started to laugh.  "If you want the Montrose jewels,
you have to be born a Montrose, marry a Montrose, or give
birth to a Montrose.  As for the Walters Gallery, why in the
hell would I do that?  That's a Death Maid property, and I
have no desire to be 're-educated' about my error." 

"You'll do it, or others will suffer," Dhargel spit.

"Dhargel, you have no clue, do you?" she asked.  "People are
born to suffer, that's life.  You taught me that.  Why are
you coming to me with this supposed threat?  Find a hero, I
don't do that dirt anymore."

Dhargel looked very angry, and despite Jim's conclusion that
the frown had helped his looks, this murderous expression
wasn't helping the man's innate ugliness at all.  Maybe he
should have considered a plague mask.  "I can't find the
rest of them.  Other than Payton, you were the only one with
a public phone number."

"Bounty hunters with unlisted numbers have no clients,"
Natalie explained slowly as if talking to a small and
possibly dim child.  "Now if you wanted to contract my
services, we could talk, but I don't steal items."

"You'll steal these," Dhargel promised.

"Why?" Natalie asked dismissively.  She didn't really sound
like she wanted the answer.  In fact, if Jim were to guess,
he would say that she sounded as if she were going to hang
up very soon.

"Because if you don't, I will release my plague on Earth,"
Dhargel announced dramatically.  He didn't quite pull it
off.  He sounded less like an orator and more like a high
school student in his first play.

"What plague?" Natalie asked, confused.  "If you wanted to
bring Earth to its knees, all you had to do was interrupt
the coffee flow.  The suicides would start in less than an
hour."

Dhargel laughed harshly.  "I have enough deadly viruses in
my possession to turn entire cities on Earth into ghost
towns."

"I don't live on Earth," she said coldly.  "Personally, I
think the whole damn place could use a thorough cleansing. 
Earthers are nothing but a bunch of bloated, tax-sucking
leeches.  Three billion people on that planet and all of
them with their hands in my pocket."

Dhargel was shocked, and it showed.  "Mars, then."

"What?" she asked, astonished.

"I'll release it on Mars," Dhargel swore.

"And have 100,000 off-Mars Death Maids out for your blood?"
she asked.  "You *are* insane.  Let me know when you start
so I can sell tickets.  That should be one fine show.  We
could call it 'Trail of the Damned'."

Dhargel seemed to think about what Natalie had said as if he
had never considered the fact that people might be angry at
having their planet poisoned.  Mars was a suicidal target at
best.  Not since they'd thrown off Earth domination had they
bent their neck for anyone.  "Callisto?" he suggested.

"Military facilities only," Natalie noted.  "I equate the
military with you, Dhargel.  Kill them all, and all I would
have to say is 'paybacks are a bitch' and 'good riddance'."

"Alpha Centauri?" Dhargel tried.

Natalie frowned.  "Are there people there or just machines? 
I've never been there."

"Beta Centauri?" Dhargel threw out.

"Ditto."

"Paradisia?" Dhargel suggested.

Natalie sniffed.  "I doubt anyone would notice if that
planet simply blew up, unless they had a serious jones for
some macadamia nuts."

"Camelot?"

Natalie thumped the table with her fist.  "Death to the
Monarchists.  I could almost help you on that one."

"New Africa?"

Pedersen scowled.  "I once had my heart broken on that
planet.  Not good enough, indeed.  Could you believe
*anyone* would think I was too violent?"

Jim had no idea how long Natalie could keep this up.  She
was stalling for time while a military and RO communications
search was being performed.  But Dhargel had an excellent
system that was currently defeating all their efforts.

"Mayflower?"

"Elitist first colonists swine.  Jacked up cheese prices,
outrageous hotel prices, and overzealous constables who have
spasms when other people have weapons."  Natalie paused in
thought.  "I would miss the beer though.  Would the plague
kill the beer?"

"Yes," Dhargel said firmly.

"Dirt," Natalie cursed.  "I love that beer," she whined.

"Terra?"

Natalie stopped muttering about the beer and looked back at
the screen.  "Where's that?"

"Riverworld?"

She started to laugh and took her time getting it under
control.  "That's so damn funny.  Do it.  You've got to do
it.  All those genetically superior bozos brought down by a
virus.  It's too... poetic.  All those puffed up Homo
Superior thick-necked, fat-ankled broads with their gravity
defying breasts covered with pustules and dying in the
streets.  Man's greatest genetic engineering experiment
brought to an abrupt and unhappy end."  She began to pound
the desk while tears streamed down her face.  Natalie nearly
tipped her chair backwards as she doubled over and gasped
for air.

"Are you insane?" Dhargel asked coldly.

Jim suddenly received the signal he had been praying for. 
Simon sent a simple message.  "Dhargel.  Location:
8215 Cactus Tree, Hamlet, Arizona.  This is a compound of
the Followers of the true Sun, a.k.a. the Solars."  Smiling,
he nudged Natalie's foot while he read the rest of the
description.

Pedersen wiped the tears from her face and finally stopped
laughing.  "Find someone else to play your little game,
Dhargel.  I've got nothing to lose, no one you can take from
me, no honor I give a flip about, and no future worth
defending.  You killed everyone I loved a long time ago, and
I've been dead ever since."  She closed the connection.

"We've got him," Jim announced.  He patched in Simon's
satellite relay signal and zeroed in on the compound in
question.  This kind of surveillance could only be used in
an active criminal investigation.  "That's where he is." 
While they watched, something came through a window,
shattering the glass.

"What was that?" Ng asked, leaning closer to the screen.

"A chair," Jim reported.  "A leather high back."

"And that?" Payton inquired when something else came sailing
out.

"A bust of Beethoven," Jim announced.  He could see the
items plainly as the satellite signal was that strong.

"Oh my, God.  Was that..."  Blair couldn't go on.

"Sorry, Chief, it was a bookshelf."  The Sentinel flinched
as Dhargel came outside and kicked the bookshelf and sent
the precious books on it scattering onto the gravel.

Ace pulled the shaking smaller man into his arms.  "It's
okay, Doctor B, we'll kill him."

"Make him suffer," Blair demanded.

"Of course," Ace promised.

Jim frowned.  Things were coming to a head, and he needed
everyone sharp and focused, but Ace had attached himself
to Blair like an extra limb, and he was taking too much of
the doctor's attention away from the task at hand.  

Ellison had no idea when Ace had become so fragile--that was
another one of the former captain's failings--but the man
had absolutely bloomed under Blair's attention.  Jim could
easily see the Ranger he had known before emerging from the
confused and skittish person Ace had become.

But Blair was Jim's teacher not Ace's.  When things were
settled, Jim was going to have to find a way to separate the
two of them.  Blair was his.

"We move, people," Jim announced.

The team rushed to their already loaded transport with
Hawthorne at the helm and blasted off, with special
permission from the neighborhood council, from the
backyard.  Jim firmly placed himself between Blair and Ace. 
He was going to need his teacher during this.  Dhargel
wasn't alone in that compound, and Jim's skills needed to be
at their peak.

"Jim, I can tandem with Blair," Ace offered.

"No, Ace, I don't trust anyone with Blair's safety but
myself."  Jim idly stroked the top of Sandburg's head,
hoping he was sending a clear signal to Ace.  "We're a
team."

They kept a tight eye on the compound as the transport
made a high arc approach to Arizona.  The trip took less
than fifteen minutes, during which everyone armored up and
checked their weapons.  

Jim dropped out of the transport with Blair pressed against
him.  The doctor had jetpacked several times, but never from
this extreme height or high speed.  Blair was decidedly
green as they descended.  

The younger man began to pray.  "God, I just need for you
to just get me safely to the ground.  I promise to be more
patient.  I will remember the little anniversaries that mark
my relationship with Jet.  I swear I will no longer--"

Jim felt compelled to interrupt Blair's litany of shame
before he revealed something Jim couldn't forget.  "Chief,
we're doing fine.  I won't let anything happen to you."

"I'm going to hold you to that, man."  The smaller man
turned his face from where he had it buried in Jim's chest
and looked at the fast approaching ground.  "What was I
thinking?  I could be flunking freshman, terrifying interns,
or having grad students doing my grunt work.  What was I
thinking?"

"Nothing comes to mind, Chief."  Jim wasn't really worried
about Blair.  The younger man always came through no
matter how hairy things became.  Jim sometimes thought
that Blair was braver than he was because Jim was no
longer afraid of much, but Blair had to confront things he
was frightened by all the time, and he still kept going. 
Sometimes the smaller man just had to talk things out, and
Jim just had to listen.

They landed lightly on the southwest corner of the
compound.  Jim counted sixteen heartbeats inside the walls. 
Payton hand signaled for the count and passed the
information along to the rest of the group.

Ace moved along the south wall until he found the weak spot
in the security net.  Mohammed moved up and disabled the
section.  

Now came the dangerous part.  The security system no
longer saw them, but anyone looking their way would.  Jim
accepted a leg up from Ng, and he was on the top of the
wall.  He signaled the rest of the team to come over.  Blair
was the second person over the wall, and he moved
immediately to Jim's side where the Sentinel needed him to
stick.

Moving swiftly, the team broke up into smaller groups.  Jim,
Blair, Ng, and Sellars were in the first group.  Maxine,
Pedersen, Mohammed, and Payton were the second group. 
Jim's group moved north.

Jim was forced to kill the first sentry they met.  The laser
rifle the man was holding could have cut through any of
them.  Ng picked up the dropped weapon.  They silently moved
into the communication center that Jim had located by sound.

Sellars squeezed the operator into unconsciousness, and
Blair injected the man to keep him that way.

"Oh, dirt," Ng said as he looked up from the terminals.

"What?" Sellars asked.

"There's a Juggernaut class ship in geosynchronous orbit
over the compound," Ng reported.

"They're going to burn the site," Jim said dispassionately.  

"Are they insane?  This is a heavily populated area.  They
can't do that," Blair protested.

"Chief, rather than let those viruses become airborne, they
will burn this site and sacrifice everyone here to save the
rest of the planet's population."  Jim tapped in an updated
status to the second team.  "Find out where the storage site
is, and let's move."

Jim wished Blair would never have to see this part of his
old life, that he would never have to be exposed to this
kind of decision making.  Even with Blair with him, if those
viruses were released, Jim would personally order the burn
and ask God to forgive him for letting his best friend die.

"Got it," Ng said as a diagram of the compound came up on
the screen.  The team studied the screen.

"This is the best route," Blair said while he traced a path
with his finger.

"Is that the way you would go?" Sellars asked.

"No, I would go this way."  Blair traced a totally different
path.

Jim smiled.  Sandburg was definitely becoming more
devious.  He just needed polish.  "Good choice, Chief, but
we're going to make a couple more deviations."  He traced a
third path.  "This way will give us more cover and fall back
positions."  He looked at his team.  "Set relays and move. 
Don't pause to powder your nose."


Blair was following Jim out of the communication center
when the Sentinel stopped mid-stride.  "Jim?"

"There's a gossamer wire on my leg," Ellison reported.

Blair didn't scream.  He was proud of himself for that.  A
gossamer wire--a spider web thin anti-personnel device--
could take Jim's leg off or be the trigger for an explosive
device that could kill him and the rest of the team.  The
biggest problem was that while Jim's Sentinel sense of
touch could detect it, the only person who had a chance of
seeing it was Maxine, and she was with the other team.

The doctor lowered his voice and tone to his "teaching and
guiding" pitch.  "Jim, I want you to listen to me.  Do you
trust me?"

"With my life," Jim responded automatically.

"Good.  I'm going to kneel down and place my hand on the
back of your leg," Blair explained.  "I want you to dial up
your sense of touch."

"What if I zone?" Jim asked, reasonably.

"You won't zone, Jim, because I'm right here," Blair
promised.  Sometimes that promise alone was good enough to
keep Jim from zoning.

"Okay," Jim agreed.

Blair knelt down.  "I'm starting with the back of your calf. 
When my hand is at the exact opposite of the wire, I want
you to tell me."

"Sandburg, one of us should do this," Ng said.  "You're a
surgeon."

"And therefore I have the steadiest hands.  Now be quiet,
Jim and I have to work."   Blair placed his fingertips on
the back of the taller man's calf and moved up slowly.  

"Stop," Jim demanded.  "Go back down a little.  Stop.  Right
there.  You're exactly in line with it."

Blair lifted the gossamer wire away from Jim's leg and held
it steady while the taller man moved back.  With the deadly
trip wire away from Jim, Ng disabled the trap.

"Sandburg, you're only the second person I ever saw who
didn't lose at least a finger to one of those things," Ace
said proudly.

Blair cringed.  "Thank God you waited until now to tell me
that."

"Kudos later, people.  The clock is ticking."  Jim waved
them down the hall.  

They stealthily completed the path they had planned with
only two encounters.  They broke through the vault wall
instead of trying to override the vault door.  When they
made it inside they found that the door had been booby-
trapped with explosives.  Dhargel had not thought of them
coming through the walls.

Retrieving the viruses was almost anti-climactic.  After
allowing Ace to check for traps on the containers, Blair
scanned the contents--the entire missing inventory was
accounted for.

Jim signaled the other team.  "Alpha team, this is Omega
team.  Flies swatted, repeated flies swatted.  Take them
down."

"Confirmed," Maxine replied.  Overhead, the staccato sound
of pulse fire resounded.

"Hope they leave us somebody to dance with," Ng said.  "I
need to be able to look myself in the mirror when I get
home."  The group broke for the surface.

Blair was directly behind Jim when something caught him
around the throat and lifted him off his feet.  He blacked
out.


Jim had been concentrating so hard on listening that the
sudden burst of air behind him almost went unnoticed. 
He turned to see his partner being lifted by the throat. 
Sellars shot the cord that was wrapped around Blair's neck,
and Jim caught the smaller man before he hit the ground.

His partner was alive, but unconscious.  The garrote had
left a long bleeding gash in the younger man's throat. 
Gingerly Jim draped Blair over his shoulder and pushed
himself to keep up with the group as they ran to the top
level of the compound.

As they came out onto the group level, Jim saw that the
other half of their group was whittling away the Solars and
their cover.  Jim spotted Dhargel trying to make a break for
it.

There was a time when the image of having his hands around
Dhargel's throat was the only thing that Jim had to hang
onto as he lay in that perfectly sterile brig, dying of
thirst and infections.  He promised himself that he would
kill the man slowly, choking the breath from him as Jim told
the bastard something special about every member of his team
who had died.

Jim pointed the man out to Sellars and Ng.  He knew they
could handle it.  Instead of seeking his long delayed
revenge, he administered first aid to Blair.  He was a
Sentinel now, and he had other priorities.

"Jim?" Blair gasped in a painful whisper.

"Sshh, don't talk, Buddy.  Your throat is badly injured.  I
need you to be quiet for me."  He gave the smaller man a
reassuring squeeze of the hand.

The firing had stopped and a sudden silence enveloped
the compound.  Then, Dhargel's screams broke the silence. 
Jim turned to watch the former Colonel being kicked around
like a soccer ball between the survivors of Team Falcon
while the rest of the madman's followers watched from their
positions of surrender.  Maxine barely broke it up before
Dhargel was killed.

                            . . . .

Jim personally turned over the viruses to Dr. Fahmar of the
Earth Disease Control Center, who had them destroyed
while they watched.  It was a great load off the RO's mind. 
Blair had insisted on coming along though he should have
been resting while he recovered from his throat injury.

"You okay?" Blair asked softly as they were walking out of
the observation room.

"I keep waiting for the sense of triumph I should be feeling
about bringing Dhargel in."  He sighed.  "All I feel is
tired.  I keep seeing my team.  They trusted me, believed in
me, and I let them down, Blair."

Blair shook his head, though he should not have been making
those kinds of exaggerated moves.  "Jim, I know you.  You
did everything you could for your team."

Jim sighed.  "But it wasn't good enough."

"That's life, Jim.  Sometimes, no matter how good we are at
our job, life takes things out of our hands.  You've got to
stop blaming yourself.  They didn't blame you--neither the
living nor the dead."  Blair hugged the taller man.  "There
is a Hebrew saying, 'Honor the dead, but attend the 
living.'  You should try that."

Jim smiled.  "I think you missed your calling, Chief.  You
should have been a rabbi."

"Don't let Grandfather Cole hear you say that," Blair
begged.  "You'll get an eight hour lecture on how I broke
his heart by falling for the siren call of hard science."

                  ====<><><><>===<><><><>====


Dhargel stood defiantly before the military tribunal and had
his original death sentence reinstated despite the eloquent
pleas of his advocate and parents.  His public statement
after the sentencing took six hours.  Jim left without
hearing it.

At 6:30 a.m. the following morning, Kirk Everett Dhargel was
placed in the death chamber.  Jim turned down the
opportunity to press the button that would expose the man to
vacuum, and Pedersen performed the task as the next highest-
ranking surviving officer of Team Falcon.  With the clicking
of two switches, the nightmare that had begun almost eleven
years ago was over.

Payton returned immediately to his wife and son's side as
soon as the sentence had been carried out.  At loose ends,
the rest of the group remained at Blair and Jim's home for
several days.  

During that time, Jim attempted to 'attend the living' with
his old friends.  They would talk into the night, saying now
what should have been said all those years ago.  Jim felt
reconnected with them, except for Ace Sellars.

The truth be told, Ellison was one baby step away from
killing Ace and planting the annoying man in the backyard. 
Sellars had gone back to his pre-mission posture of
attaching himself to Sandburg.  He followed Blair to the
campus, the hospital, and once to the station.  Jim wanted
the man gone.

Then, at the last minute, Blair took Ace with him to
Mayflower.  Ellison had been unable to take the time off to
assist Blair, Claudia, Frederick, Dorothy, Naomi, Helaine,
Jet, and Simon escort building materials, medicine, books,
clothes, and other essentials for rebuilding the devastated
world.  Jim couldn't imagine what Ace could possibly do to
help.  The man's specialty was destroying, not repairing.

When the party returned, two weeks later, Blair's newly
acquired shadow was not with them.  "What did you do with
Sellars, and do you need help with the cover-up?"

"I left him there to work.  The man needed something to do,
Jim.  He hasn't held a real job since he left the Rangers,"
Blair explained.  "It's a sin for someone with his kind of
skills not to be using them.  There is a group I support
that will train him and make use of his skills.  They're
called Second Opportunities.  It's comprised of people who
have retired from their first professions, sometimes very
violent professions, to take up a second calling.  Hawthorne
came from Second Opportunities.  I introduced Ace to them to
see if he would like to work with the group.  Mayflower has
a lifetime of opportunities for the man to do some good."

"Is he your new salvation project?" Jim asked.

Blair frowned.  "Jim, I do *not* have a Messiah Complex.  I
can't save everyone.  It's the first thing they try to teach
you in medical school."

Jim suddenly felt ashamed.  His old friend had needed help
and all he could see was that the man was getting between
him and Blair.  Simon would be rolling on the floor over
this one.  "How was he doing when you left?"

"Still a little skittish, but Julia had taken him under her
wing.  She used to be a Deep Space Ranger, too.  They have a
lot in common."  He tapped his head.  Blair checked his
messages and sighed at the large number of waiting mail. 
"Come on, people, I was only gone for two weeks."

Jim tried to formulate a sentence that could convey his deep
affection for his friend.  Nothing was coming to him.  "Hey,
Chief."

Blair looked up at Jim.  "Yes?"

"Ah..."

"What?" Blair prompted.

"Ah..."

"Is something wrong?" Blair asked in a worried tone.

"No, I ah..."  Jim ran his fingers through his hair.  "Do
you want to go out to the cabin this weekend and just kick
back?"  Jim loved the cabin Blair owned near Lake Cascade. 
It was always a treat to go there by himself, with
Blair, or with their ladies.

Blair smiled.  "I'm sure Jet and Claudia would love it."

"I was thinking just you and me.  We could spend some time
together.  No tests.  We could talk or not talk.  Just two
friends attending the living," Jim explained.

"That sounds great.  I think that's just what we both need." 
He started up the stairs.  "Oh, Jim," Blair called from the
second floor landing.

Jim looked up.  "Yeah, Chief?"

"I love you, too."

Jim smiled.  Thank God one of them could say it.


                          -- The End --