SquidgeWorld Archive

Disclaimer: *raising a card that says 'not mine'*
Notes: yet another weird AU *eg*

***

It was over, all over. There was nothing left but the dying itself.

Jim looked down at the lifeless corpse of Alex Barnes sprawled on the dirty and wet street. The rogue sentinel had killed his guide and had paid the ultimate price for that crime. He should have felt some kind of satisfaction, he supposed, but all he could feel was desperation and emptiness. This would not bring his guide back; Blair was beyond return, irrevocably gone from this world. /Why beat around the bush. He is dead. My guide and best friend is dead./

Jim turned from the oddly peaceful face of the female sentinel and walked away from the shadowy alley. He left his truck behind to stand sentinel by the street side and kept on walking down the street toward a small park he had seen on his way over. He knew Simon would have put an APB on him and his car by now. The others would soon be here.

He had gone mad by that fountain and had had to be bodily dragged away. The paramedics had wanted to sedate him, but Simon had somehow overruled them. Jim did not know how he had managed to do that, but he was grateful to his friend. He had been taken to the loft by the combined powers of the Major Crimes detectives. Bad move on his friends' part, since Jim knew his home and had easily escaped his guards. Finding Alex was not that hard, she had not left Cascade yet and somehow a sentinel could sense another sentinel. She had been expecting him. She had known Jim would come after him. /Perhaps she had counted on it?/

Jim could feel the blood flowing from his wounds, seeping through his clothing. He could hear the quiet drops of life falling to the ground. He knew he was dying. He would soon follow his guide to the beyond.

The few people who witnessed his short walk to the park could not have cared less. The sentinel was in no way connected to them or their fate, so he was of no importance to them.

***

Jim sat down carefully on the wet ground, leaning on a tree trunk. He sighed in relief as he settled down, he had been afraid he would pass out before he could get to the park. Here he could die in peace.

He closed his eyes and let the darkness in. The dark vortex rushed in and flooded him. He could hear the mournful cries of a panther and a wolf.

A heart slowed down, and stopped.

***

Simon watched idly as the lights from the police vehicles and the ambulance flickered in the evening air. He sighed in weary defeat. It was getting to be too familiar a sight. Maybe he should apply for another post? There was that commissioner's post open in a small town nearby. It would be more peaceful there, he was certain of it.

The police captain raised his head to look up at the darkening sky. There was nothing to keep him here, not anymore. His duty was over; the guide and the sentinel were dead. There would be another pair, with someone else watching over them, someone other than him. His duty was done. He had stayed in Cascade mainly because of the sentinel and guide and now that they were gone, he was free to go.

He swallowed down the tears. He would have time to mourn his friends later, after he had seen to their funeral. /Freedom comes with a price tag,/ he noted to himself.

***

Simon Banks became a commissioner in a small town near Cascade. He remarried and had two children. Henry Brown transferred to the FBI and was killed in action after 10 years of service as a federal agent. Brian Rafe stayed in Cascade and eventually was elected the chief of police. Megan Connor returned to Australia. She married, had four children and eventually became an MP. She had a successful if somewhat colourful career in politics. Joel Taggart succeeded Banks as a captain of Major Crimes.

Everything well that ends well? Inwardly, there was something missing in their lives. It was as if they were merely doing what they were supposed to do while their hearts and souls were on standby, waiting. Waiting for another chance, another lifetime.

***

His head was pounding and aching, the air smelled slightly off, unfamiliar, and even the sounds were different. He could feel his stomach turning, and turning before it finally settled down. Quaking with fear he could not understand, Jim opened his eyes.

This was not his world.

He was not sure how he could be so certain, after all the buildings looked similar, the cars were still cars, but there was that tint, those small differences that screamed out to a sentinel. He could identify the alley he was lying on as the one near the disreputable bar area, but it was not in his town. This was not his territory.

His stomach twisted in fear, strange smells assaulted his nose and weird sounds battered his ears. He sat up and started to put his hands to his ears, but froze mid-motion.

The hands were not his either. They were too young, too small to be truly his. The scar from that fishing accident so long ago was gone, so was the scar from the hunt in Peru and the one from that fight with Lash.

He looked down at himself. He was wearing worn jeans and old boots gone soft with age, a thick sweater and a worn jeans jacket. Not his clothes, but the body was not his either. It was too young, too skinny.

Jim hugged himself and tried to burrow through the tile wall. It was all wrong, all different. This was not his rightful place.

This was his punishment.

***

He had no idea how long he sat there, lost inside himself. His muscles were getting stiff and achy by the time he finally stood up. He grabbed the backpack lying on the ground by his feet and walked slowly to the mouth of the alley. Sunlight was fading away and the shops were closing. People were dribbling into the bars and restaurants. He tried to make out the names of the places he could see, but could not identify the letters.

/Why can't I -/ He collapsed against the wall, shaking with renewed vigour. /I can't read./ He struggled to steady his breathing. After all, it was merely proper that he should suffer for failing his guide, for betraying the sentinel-guide bond.

Besides, surely he could manage. He could take care of himself, he always had.

He straightened and started to walk down the street. He did not know where he was going, but it probably did not matter that much.

***

A few hours later Jim's feet were starting to protest, though not as loudly as his stomach. There were quite a few bars nearby as well as one or two street vendors. The smells of greasy fast food were mouth watering by now.

Jim veered off into a small park with just one tree and a few bushes. He sat down on the first bench he came across. After making sure it was relatively clean, of course. He opened his backpack and started to go through it. /Should have done this before wandering off./ He had to admit he hadn't been thinking too clearly. Probably still wasn't. It's not that often you die and are reincarnated.

Nothing. There were the necessary toiletries, a change of clothing and a small towel in the backpack, but no money. None.

/Okay, what now?/ Jim looked around, trying to think of something.

/The food store./ There was a larger food store situated next to a mock-Irish pub just down the block. It had already closed, but maybe the store's dustbins contained something edible. It was worth a shot.

Jim ignored the nightwalkers, hangers on and pub-crawlers as he walked to the alley beside the store. There were four large dustbins beside two large doors.

He was just checking the dustbins with his sense of smell as he heard a voice behind him.

"Hi there. Need some cash?" a loud voice asked, half-jokingly.

Jim turned and saw four young men walking towards him. T-shirts, open long sleeved shirts, too large jeans, dirty sneakers, there was nothing unusual in them, but still they seemed to represent threat. Maybe it was the determined way of walking, or the cold eyes.

"Wha -" /Shit, do I look *that* desperate?/ "No. You'll have to look somewhere else." Jim hoped his voice sounded firm, but he kind of doubted it.

"Ooh, but we already found what we like," one of them said with a mock pout.

"*Really* like," another one said as he walked to the other side of Jim.

/Stupid, stupid, letting them trap you./ Jim looked around him. He was pinned, screaming for help in this neighbourhood might just attract more trouble and he was in no condition to fend off four youngsters. Let's face it, he was in deep shit.

"Now, how much for the four of us?" a third one asked.

"I'm not a whore and I sure as hell won't be giving anything to you guys," Jim stated.

They actually laughed at that, and closed in.

Jim was able to land in a couple of punches and kicks before he was pinned to the ground. One of the guys had just grabbed his shirt when a shot rang out. The would-be rapists scattered after a couple of quick weak-hearted kicks just out of principle.

Jim got up slowly and looked at his 'saviour' who was slowly walking towards him. He was Hispanic, clean-shaven with better than average clothing and he carried a large calibre gun, though he was definitely not a police officer. /Either a crook or someone with a vigilante longings. Wonder which one would be worse?/

"Thanks," Jim offered after he had gotten up and had collected his backpack from the ground. He noticed that the man was about as tall as Simon, and just as wide.

The man nodded. "I'm Tony."

"Jim."

"How about a coffee or something to eat, Jim? My treat," Tony asked grinning.

Jim was getting a bad feeling about this, but it was not as if he had that many choices. He nodded.

***

"You certainly have a healthy appetite," Tony chuckled.

Jim blushed. He had been hungrier than he thought. /I suppose moving from one realm to another does that./

He looked at Tony. Close up you could see that he was in his mid-30s, though the weary eyes made him look older. The man seemed nice enough, but why had he saved him from a gang rape and was now treating him to a meal?

"Thank you for the meal. No offence, but why are you helping me?" Jim asked after he had finished his second large helping of sausages and omelette.

The larger man shrugged. "I felt like it."

Jim looked at his reflection on the window. He was a younger version of himself. He had no ID, was illiterate and if he stayed on the streets, he could very well end up taking those guys up on their offer. *A fit punishment for a failed sentinel.*

He sighed softly and turned back to his coffee.

"You have a place to stay?" Tony asked.

Jim thought about it for a second, and shook his head.

***

Mike Carretti looked at the young man before him. He leaned back on his leather chair. The kid had said that his name was Jim and he was looking for a job. Tony had brought him so the kid was probably okay for a job i.e. he had enough trouble of his own not to want any more and would keep his mouth shut.

"You have an ID on you, kid?" The guy looked to be about 20-years-old, give or take a year, but ever since Mike had passed 40 he had felt entitled to call anyone younger than himself a kid.

"No." A straight answer to a straight question, good.

"Okay. You can start tonight. You'll be a general helper around the place; cleaning, running errands, fetching boxes and just about anything else that needs to be done," Mike explained. He'd tell Andy to keep an eye on the kid for a while, just in case.

Mike took a slip of paper from a pile of notes he had on one corner of the large oaken table.

"Name?" he asked the kid.

"Jim Ellison."

"Got an address?" Mike asked after writing down the name. Writing it down would help him remember it, though he every much doubted it was the kid's real name.

"No."

Mike looked at the kid and thought for a while. Not a bad looking one, a few of the guys might take a fancy to him and the kid might not say no to a few extra bucks. If Tony wanted him for himself, he would have to stake his claim pretty soon.

"There's a spare room on the second floor, right by the toilets. You could have it, if you help in closing the place up."

The kid looked at him, trying to find out if he would have to sleep with him. Mike was not interested in men, women were enough trouble.

"Okay," the kid nodded. "Any chance of a shower?"

"There's one for personnel on the second floor, other end of the corridor. You can use it in the mornings." It would spare the guys a private show, Mike thought to himself. /Let them work at the kid./

***

Jim looked around his new 'home'. It was larger than he had thought. There was a real bed in an alcove, a large cupboard and a table with two chairs. There was also a window to the back alley. He looked out the window; the huge dustbins were at the other end of the alley. Good, would save him from being woken up by the collectors every morning.

Jim turned around and went to sit on the bed. Somehow, he would have to make do without any money until he got his first meagre salary, in two weeks. It felt like eternity, or a blink of an eye.

Jim's stomach growled. Time to go see if he could scrounge something in the small kitchen. If not, he might have to ask Tony for a small loan. He was pretty sure the larger man would not mind.

***

Jim was sweeping the floor of the bar, a truly Herculean task as there was a mixture of beer, filth, wine, whisky and god knew what else warring for domination on the irregular surface. /Pour some water, sweep and hope for the best./ Jim suspected that not even industrial strength cleaner could have done much with the floor, let alone the regular stuff he was using.

He glanced as a few men of dubious origins came down from the second floor. They had gotten up half an hour ago, to talk business. It had not taken long for Jim to figure out that the owner was running a few shady businesses on the side. Jim tried not to care. He had been using his free time to get to know this Cascade, and to find his guide. He was certain his being here was somehow connected with his guide. Maybe he was supposed to redeem himself by saving Blair, or something similar. If so, he was not doing too well. It was over two weeks and he had been unable to find Blair in any of *his* Blair's regular places. /Wonder how different this one is? Or if he's even in Cascade?/

Jim was startled out of his thoughts by a pat on his bottom. He turned to see who it was this time. In addition to the bartender Ronnie, a few of Carretti's men were after him. Lazily after him, thank god, but still...

"Trying to work here," Jim commented dryly to Tony. Turned out his saviour was Carretti's main thug.

"Not stopping you," Tony grinned. After a last pat to Jim's bottom he moved to stand beside Jim.

"Yeah, right. My ass is sure to have bruises after your groping," Jim commented as he continued to clean the floor.

"Can think of a few other ways to bruise that shapely ass. Comes with a guarantee, too."

Jim paused. "Guarantee? What are you talking about?"

"If you don't like, you'll get double the fee," Tony explained as he came closer to Jim and grabbed his ass. Jim could smell the pheromones coming off the man, could feel the heat of him. It had been too long since anyone had wanted him, had touched him. It felt kind of good.

This was the first time Tony had gotten this... explicit. It had been hints and off hand comments before now. Jim was not sure how to respond. He liked the guy and Tony *had* been a big help. In fact, he was probably his only friend right now.

"'Cuse me!"

Tony cursed at the interruption.

"Think about it," he whispered to Jim's ear.

Jim looked at the tall back as the older man walked away. Think about it? What other choice was there but to say 'yes'? He could not afford to say 'no' and he did like Tony, in a way.

He shook his head and looked at the two men who had entered the bar. He gasped.

It was Blair and Rafe.

Jim shook his head as Tony turned to escort the two upstairs after a short exchange of words with one of his men who had brought the pair to the bar. /Why are they here?/ Jim noticed Rafe glancing his way. He knew he did not look like much, what with the Salvation Army clothing and the mop. /Which reminds me.../

***

By the time Jim had all but one corner of the large area cleaned up (to the Carretti standards, not to the Ellison standards) Tony came back downstairs.

"The guests still up there?" Jim asked off-hand. He would have expected Tony stay nearby.

The large man nodded. "Albert came by."

Albert was in charge of day-to-day operations. The small and wiry man was *crooked* and Jim had said a few prayers of thanks that the man was interested only in women. Which was pretty rare in this world. Homosexual and heterosexual relationships were equally allowed and you could marry a person of the same or opposite sex. It did not change matters that much, in Jim's opinion. Relationships were still relationships; they could be good or bad, simple or complicated.

Tony parked himself by a table opposite the counter, a place where he could see the stairs leading upstairs as well as the main door. It was his regular place.

Jim finished up the cleaning, thinking furiously. He was tempted to eavesdrop on the conversation upstairs, but that would be courting a zone out. He had been careful in the use of his senses. They were somewhat muted, but worked well enough. /Would work better with Blair,/ he thought wistfully. Of course there were no guarantees that this Blair would be similar to his.

Was Blair a cop here? Or a dealer? Or maybe there was some third reason he was here, with Rafe. And what on earth was Jim going to do next? Jim realised that he had not thought much beyond finding his guide. If Blair was dealing with Carretti (for whatever reason), it was best to stay here. Not that he had much choice. A fake ID cost more money than he could scrounge up (he had checked) and he had no documents or records necessary to apply for a real one, not to mention the fact that he could not read. As for connections, he had absolutely none beyond the Carretti clan and the bar. This was the best he could do right now.

Jim took a look at the floor. No corner had been forgotten. He stretched. /God, I hate the weekly floor cleaning./

"Come here," Tony suddenly ordered.

Jim whipped his head to look at him. Tony was looking at him intently. Jim could feel a shiver in his spine. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him that way.

Jim put the mop and the bucket down by the wall and walked over to Tony. The older man steered him to sit on his lap. They were chest to chest with Jim's legs on either side of Tony's hips. Tony started to push Jim's worn shirt up, but Jim put his hands on Tony's to halt him. The older man did not look too pleased at that.

"Wait. I... I need to know," Jim started. If he actually went through with this, he did not want to be thrown aside the next day or handed over to someone else. "Would this be just once or...?"

Tony chuckled. "No fear, kitten. This is definitely going to be long-term," he said with a lust-laden voice.

Jim settled on the other guy's lap and put his hands on his shoulders. "Okay, wasn't sure."

Tony's hands snaked under his shirt. "No problem."

Jim could hear Blair's heartbeat nearing, coming down the stairs as Tony started to nibble on his neck. He could feel the larger man's hard cock under him, yearning to get out and play. /I suppose I should call him lover,/ Jim thought idly. He had trouble thinking of Tony as a *lover*, there was not that much love involved, on either side.

"Could you at least wait until Andy gets here to relieve you," a dry voice commented, mildly disapproving.

Tony loosened his hold on Jim to look at the three men who had come down, but kept his hands at Jim's back, under the shirt. "Just sampling," he answered.

Albert shook his bald head. Blair looked at them with mild interest while Rafe kept an eye on their surroundings.

"These two will be doing business with the old man. They'll be pretty regular here from now on," Albert told Tony, pointing at Blair and Rafe.

Tony nodded, looking at the two and committing them to memory.

/Regular, so it's something bigger. Wonder what./

As Albert escorted Blair and Rafe to the door, a side door on the other side of the hall opened and Andy walked in. Jim told his heart to settle down. He had been with men before, he could handle this. Besides, he *liked* Tony. It wouldn't be that bad.

***

Rafe opened a window as the car left the parking space by Carretti's bar. He took a pack of cigarettes from the glove compartment and lighted one, leaning back to enjoy the breeze and the ease of tension.

"So, what do you think of the collection of misguided persons in that den?" he asked idly.

"Not as bad as it could be," Blair answered slowly as he studied the traffic.

Rafe nodded.

"The bald guy's the organiser, but Carretti could do well even without him. He's smart. The thug was no idiot either," Blair continued.

"Yeah, it's not going to be easy to bust them," Rafe agreed. "Specially with the time limit going on."

"We have to. We can't let them ship silver into Cascade."

***

Jim held onto the sheets, pulling in ragged breaths. Tony was thrusting into him, hard. Jim was using his senses to guide his movements and to bring pleasure to his 'lover'. Probably not the most ethical use for them, but he was getting sore. He just wanted Tony to finish off, preferably ten minutes ago.

After a few more bruising thrusts the older man tensed and came. He stayed posed above Jim for a few breaths and then lowered himself on the sweaty back of his younger partner.

"Mmm," he nuzzled Jim's neck. "You're real good. And nicely tight too," the older man added softly. He snuggled Jim and fell asleep. His cock softened and slipped out of the nest it had found.

Jim checked the clock and decided to join the guy in sleep. He was exhausted. He settled a bit better on the large bed and surprised himself by falling asleep in just a few minutes.

***

Detective Blair Sandburg was sitting in the sunny office of Major Crimes' Captain with his partner Detective Brian Rafe. Captain Jack Pendergast was looking rumpled as usual.

"Think you can get in deep enough before the shipment's distributed?" he asked them, after a last view of their reports.

"Carretti's short of distributors for something like that," Rafe said. "He has plenty of channels for the regular stuff, but this one's new and... trendy." Blair wondered how Rafe could get such venom into that one little word.

Their grey haired leader nodded in thought.

"By providing just the right channel, not to mention bigger income, you get the first slice of silver."

"That's the plan," Blair said.

"The best plans of mice and men... Wait a few days. There's still the Faraday case to wrap up, by the way," Pendergast pointed out. "Go to the bar on Friday and check things out. From what the feds reported, the shipment of silver should be ready to be distributed in a couple of weeks."

"Yes, sir."

***

By Friday evening their desks were as clear as they would ever be and it was time to concentrate on Carretti, and that mysterious shipment of silver. The feds had gotten a lead on a larger shipment having been distributed among certain cities and had informed the local police departments. The feds of course were concentrating on the larger fish. Not for them the lower ranks of criminals.

Blair stepped out of the shower, towelling his short hair. It was time to select the proper clothing for a night out as Blair Sandrelli, a dealer to the young and bored.

He looked at his wardrobe. A dark silk shirt and a linen jacket might do, with dark jeans. Casual, but still traditional. Blair rarely thought too much about what he wore, but such 'trivial' things could make or break a case.

He sighed and sat down on his bed. The case should be over in a couple of weeks, and he could ask Agent Alex Barnes, CPD's liaison in the silver case, to go out with him. There had been this spark between them from the beginning, a promise of something lasting and strong. By mutual agreement, they would wait until this was over, and exchange some very personal emails.

Blair glanced at the family photo on his night table. /Wonder how mom will react to the news?/ Considering the not so subtle hints about grandchildren she had delivered lately, she would probably start planning the wedding, Blair thought ruefully.

***

"You look nervous," Rafe commented as they met a few blocks from Carretti's.

"I *feel* nervous," Blair admitted. "It's as if... something important's going to happen and I'm afraid I'll miss it."

Rafe just looked at him. "Let's go," he said after a short moment of silence.

***

Jim was listening to Tony explaining something about old cars and spare parts to Albert, almost shouting to be heard over the noise of the Friday crowd. Carretti was ignoring them and cooing with his latest girl friend. They did not usually last long, which Albert had not so subtly hinted had a lot to do with the fact that the old man did not want to spend much money on his girl friends. Carretti just shrugged, not bothering to deny or admit anything.

Jim sipped his drink and kept an ear on the bar. They were in a quiet corner, but with a good view of the main hall. The place was packed with partygoers, and dealers looking for a chance to chat up with the bigger fish.

Jim managed not to freeze when he sensed Blair and Rafe coming their way.

"Hope we're not intruding?" Rafe inquired, somehow he managed to sound both polite and indifferent at the same time.

"Not at all," Carretti said warmly. "Do join us."

Blair and Rafe sat down opposite Jim, Tony and Albert at their alcove table. Carretti motioned for a waiter from his place at the foot of the table. "Order what you want, on the house," he told Rafe.

Jim looked at Blair. This one had short hair and seemed... harder than 'his' Blair. /His eyes seem sadder./

"Something wrong?" Tony whispered angrily into his ear.

Jim turned his head to look at his 'lover'. /He's jealous!/

"Just curious. I'm sorry," Jim said softly as he snuggled closer.

***

Blair looked at the main thug's boyfriend. He felt as if he should know the guy, even though he had never seen him before. It was odd, and the way he had looked at him. As if the guy knew him already, knew what he was like underneath. Weird.

Blair turned his attention to Carretti and Rafe. They were chatting amicably; everything seemed just fine on that front. He turned to look at Carretti's organiser. He was following the action in the bar, but felt Blair's eyes on him.

"Will you be here for long?" he asked Blair nonchalantly.

"Depends on the prospects. Should know better after a project or two," Blair answered with a grin. /Let him worry about a possible rival./

"The prospects are quite good at the moment, but of course you need to know the circumstances to be able to take full advantage of them."

"Naturally," Blair said offering his best shark smile. Things were indeed looking good.

One of Albert's lackeys chose that moment to approach them. The well-muscled woman bowed down to whisper something into his employer's ear. He nodded.

"Excuse me a moment," he said to Carretti as he rose from the table. The old man nodded and shooed him on his way.

"People really should know better," Carretti complained theatrically as the two walked away. "Friday's the day off here, but somehow there's always something to take care of."

Rafe tch-tched sympathetically.

***

"How about we leave early?" Tony asked Jim softly.

"Sounds good," Jim said, doing his best to sound thrilled. Tony's hand was practically digging into his hip. He probably should have guessed that the larger man would be the jealous type. It fit him, in a way.

Tony kissed him roughly, staking his claim. Jim tried to imagine it was Blair kissing him, his Blair. That was yet another issue in which he had failed his guide. He had loved him, but had never dared to tell Blair. He had been too afraid. Now it was too late, way too late.

"Anything I should know about?" Carretti asked Albert as the small man walked back to their table.

"Not sure, it was about the Ferguson shipment."

Jim could feel Tony tensing up as he heard the words. Carretti looked grim.

"You deal with it," the old man ordered darkly.

Albert nodded and turned to do as told. Tony rose to follow him.

"Tony?" Jim asked, unsure about what he was supposed to do.

"Come along, Andy will take you home," Tony said, all business. Jim did not like to be ordered around, but he was not going to argue, not in front of Carretti. Besides, for some odd reason he was not sure if he should bother to argue.

***

Jim was sitting on the backseat of Andy's brand new car, wishing he knew what the hell was going on. He had not heard of Ferguson before, not in any of his careful eavesdropping. A code word? But for what? Could it be that they knew about Blair and Rafe? He was pretty sure the two were detectives in this world. Or maybe something else had gone wrong?

Jim looked at the back of Andy's head. What could he do about it? He had no idea where the others were right now or where they were going. Besides, he kind of doubted Carretti would have two police officers killed. He could just as well refuse to deal with them. Unless he panicked. If this was something important, he might overreact.

Jim gnawed at his lip. He had a really bad feeling about this.

***

/Great, chauffeuring a pouting bitch. At least Tony's place is pretty near the old warehouse./

Andy took out his cell phone at the traffic lights and punched in a number.

"Hi Dean, you guys headed to that old warehouse?... Giving Tony's boy a ride. I'll head there in a few minutes... See you there. Bye."

Jim looked out at the street. Sounded like the spirits were helping him out. /Or pushing me in the right direction./

***

They arrived at the parking garage of the apartment building Tony was living in after a few more minutes. Andy drove to a vacant parking space next to the elevators.

"Now, kid, I'm in a bit of a hurry, so I'll trust you to head up. No detours, get it?" Andy told him sternly.

"I get it," Jim said as he got off the car, doing his best pouty and offended -routine. As soon as he heard the car turn off, he sprinted to the motorcycle he had gotten from Tony just the day before. He put the helmet on and raced off after Andy's car.

***

Back at the bar Carretti shooed his girl friend off.

"I don't normally work on Friday evenings, but time is suddenly growing short. Would you mind checking the shipment tonight?" he asked his two guests.

Blair and Rafe looked at each other before nodding in unison.

"Of course not," Rafe said. They rose to follow their host. "Inform Pendergast," Rafe whispered to Blair.

"I'll just have to take a detour to the men's room," Blair informed them. He did not like this turn of events any more than Rafe. It could be that Carretti was trying to rush the deal, or he could be suspicious of them. No choice, but to take the risk. This was too good an opportunity to pass, and it would not be like their personas to shy from a good deal.

***

Jim parked the motorcycle about a block from an old warehouse. The neighbourhood looked deserted, except for the rats and the homeless. Just the kind where you could store anything illegal, including bodies headed for disposal. /Though I suppose it *would* be kind of stereotypical./

He sneaked into the building and hid behind boxes smelling suspiciously like firearms. /Illegal weapons as well as drugs, great company I've ended up with./

Tony was holding court with Andy and a couple more thugs. Albert was sitting on a box, looking relaxed as he smoked a thin cigar.

Jim could hear the cars coming up a lot sooner than the others. Tony told the guys to spread out as he moved to welcome their guests.

Jim moved closer to Andy who was holding the rear of the formation.

***

Blair and Rafe got out of the car they had shared and followed Carretti into the warehouse. They had checked their guns in the car and were ready for trouble. They could both smell a rat, but they were not sure what kind it was.

As soon as they were deeper inside, one of Carretti's men locked the door. Carretti himself moved off to one side.

"What's this?" Rafe asked coolly.

"Taking care of a difficult situation," Carretti stated. He motioned for his men.

Rafe and Blair took out their guns and dived for cover. It was too far away.

***

Jim dived for Andy, knocking him off and sending the shots from his semi-automatic off toward the roof and the nearby boxes. It threw off the ambush as most of the gang turned to assess the new threat, and to deal with it.

Jim could feel a hot searing pain in his side. He collapsed on the cold floor. The all compassing darkness was a familiar sensation.

***

Blair was not sure what had thrown off the carefully plotted killing scene, but was eternally grateful for it. He dived under cover after Rafe, narrowly missing getting shot in the head and downing one of Carretti's bodyguards.

Rafe was taking out his cell phone as Blair landed beside him.

"Three down, four to go," Blair informed him.

Blair took a look of the situation as Rafe ordered their backup. There was someone lying on the floor besides one of the thugs by the back of the area, near the larger boxes. /It's the boyfriend!/

Blair sat down on the floor, stunned. Why had he helped them? Was it a personal agenda or something else? And why did he feel like he had missed the chance of a lifetime?

***

The situation resolved pretty quickly once the backup arrived. Blair watched as Carretti was escorted out in handcuffs. They had found the silver in three of the boxes, so that was one problem solved. So why did he not feel like celebrating?

***

A black jaguar was racing in the jungle, looking for the temple. After a few leaps and twists to avoid fallen and standing trees he arrived at the foot of the temple's main stairs. This time he was let in.

***

End, of this life