One week later

 

"Are you sure you want to do this?"  Pete asked his newest employee. 

 

Blair Sandburg did not look at his face.  Instead, his focus was on the files that Pete held in his hands.  "I'm sure.  I want to know everything.  I need to know, Pete."

 

Pete nodded.  "Can I show you something else first?"

 

Blair rolled his eyes at him.  "Do you have to?"

 

"I'd like to."

 

"Fine."  It was more a sigh than a word.  "What is it?"

 

"Okay, I've been waiting to tell you this until I thought you could deal with it.  Now, I suppose since you're ready to deal with this stuff."  He indicated the files he held.  "Maybe you're ready for what I have to say."  He took a deep breath.  "All right, here goes.  Before MacNamara died, I cut a deal with him for my silence.  He gave me a substantial sum of money to keep my mouth shut about his part in your abduction."

 

"What?"  Blair looked appalled, and Pete started wishing he had waited for Kit to get back into the office before he started this.  Kit had a knack for smoothing ruffled feathers, and Pete had a feeling he was about to ruffle lots and lots of Blair's feathers.

 

He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out the bankbook.  He handed it to Blair.  "It was when we thought you might need at least semi-permanent care.  I took it for you, Blair.  Then when Senator Adams heard what had happened—"

 

"Your version, you mean?"

 

"Yes, my version.  He felt you deserved some compensation for your ordeal." 

 

Blair was staring at the book, but he had not opened it.  He shook his head suddenly and held the book out to Pete.  "I can't take it.  It's not right."

 

"The hell it's not!" Pete exclaimed.  "You listen to me, Blair Sandburg.  You deserve every dime of that money and more after what they did to you."

 

"It's blood money, sort of.  You know what I'm saying?"  He threw the book on the table when Pete did not take it.

 

"Yeah, and it was your blood, so it's your money!  Take it, Blair.  Pay off your student loans.  Use it to get your doctorate.  Blow it on fast women and good wine.  Who cares!  Just take it.  And there is one other thing.  I spoke to Senator Adams and he is more than willing to write you a recommendation to Georgetown University.  Think about it.  You could get your doctorate from Georgetown.  Wouldn't that just tweak the nose of the good Chancellor Edwards of Rainier?  Blair, I know that you say you want to work here, but why?"

 

"What do you mean why?"

 

"Why do you want to work here?  You want my theory?"

 

"Not really."

 

"Tough.  I'm the boss.  I get to spew my theories any time I want.  I think that you're here because you don't know where else to be.  Blair, this job is not that different from being a cop and I don't think that would have been your first choice of careers either.  In fact, our work is even more violent.  You'll still have to carry a gun and know how to use it.  You don't want that.  I've let this slide for a while because you've been learning the office and the computer systems, but it's time to move on from that.  I'm trying to give you options, Blair.  You can have your doctorate.  You can be an anthropologist again.  Or you can be a man of leisure.  Trust me, there's enough there to relax on for quite some time.  Or you can learn the trade here and work for me.  I just want the choice to be yours, freely, without reservation."

 

Blair sighed then gave him a half-smile.  He reached for the book and opened it hesitantly.  "Holy shit!"

 

Pete laughed.  "Dinner's on you tonight, right?"

 

"Funny.  I can’t believe you did this."

 

"Well, somebody had to do something.  So, are you pissed?"

 

"Not exactly.  Georgetown?"

 

"Yep, Georgetown.  I even think that I can speed things up for you—"

 

"No, thanks, but that's fine.  You've done enough already."

 

"How come you, Kit and Alex can all make that sound like an insult rather than a compliment?" Pete grinned at him.

 

"It's a gift.  Now, give me the files."

 

"Don't mince words, do you?"

 

"What would be the purpose of that?  Hand them over, Pete.  I'm not going to give up on this."

 

Pete placed the files down on the table in front of Blair.  "It's ugly.  I hope you're prepared for it.  I'll leave you alone for a while.  If you need me, I'll be in my office." 

 

Blair nodded, never taking his eyes off the folders.

 

 

Three hours later, Blair closed the file that Alex Morrow had stolen from MacNamara's office and sat back in the chair.  He was not sure whether he wanted to cry, scream or laugh.  He scooped both folders up from the table and headed across the office lobby to Pete's door.  He knocked lightly then opened the door.  He peeked in.

 

"Come on in, Blair," Pete said, a thoughtful look on his face.

 

"I'm finished with these." He told him as he entered the office and walked over to Pete's desk to place them on one corner. 

 

"And?  Are you okay?"

 

"I don’t know.  I'm not sure.  It's all so confusing.  You know, Rose said I was handpicked.  They had a profile and all that.  At least that what he told me, but Pete, there is no profile.  Not really.  There's nothing in there that wouldn't apply to hundreds, thousands of people.  They wanted someone in the fields of Social Science, so he could understand the research.  They wanted someone young, so the person could be trained rather than retrained.  They wanted someone of above average to genius level intelligence.  The only reason it ended up being me was because I read Burton's research and was interested in the concept, and I just happened to live in the same town as Jim, which is pretty coincidental when you think about it.  Why would he want me to believe that I was handpicked from some 'special' profile?  It hardly seems important at all.  Wait, yes it does.  It was important that we believed that I was the one, possibly the only one, that fit.  It would obligate me.  It would obligate Jim. It would make me believe that I had to help because no one else could, and it would make Jim feel responsible for me."

 

Pete was nodding.  "Smart."

 

"Evil.  That's what it is.  But Adler hated me and didn't want me.  Guess Rose didn't plan on that.  Or hell, maybe he did.  Maybe once he found out about Alex, he intended for me to work with her and that other guy to work with Jim."

 

"I don't think Rose cared what happened to Jim, Blair.  He said that Adler and the Army could have Jim.  He was more interested in getting Barnes ready for MacNamara and whoever was backing him," Pete explained.

 

Blair frowned.  "And my grants and scholarships, over half of them came from Rose apparently.  That really sucks."

 

"Sorry."

 

So was Blair, but that was not what had hurt the most.  "Did you know Jim was planning on leaving?  There's a plane ticket in there."  He pointed to the folder.

 

"It's not what it looks like.  Jim had two safety deposit boxes, one for him and one for you.  They found his.  They didn't find yours.  He had separate ones in case they got to him before they got to you.  You could still get away."

 

"Then he didn't—he wasn't going to leave me behind?  Oh god, I was blaming him for it all.  But he didn't know about me, did he?  The file isn't clear on that, but he really didn't know."  Blair was stunned.  He had thought that Jim knew about the whole thing, that when his repressed memories came back, he had known that Blair had been chosen to be his guide. 

 

"No, Blair, he didn't."

 

"But he knew they were coming at some point, and he didn't tell me.  He should have told me!"  He knew he was practically shouting.

 

"I agree."

 

Blair held up his hands and took a deep breath.  "I'm not going to get into that now.  I'm putting that to the side right now."

 

"Okay."  There was a slight chuckle in Pete's voice.  Blair glared at him.  "Sorry," Pete said hurriedly.  "It's just that you sounded like Kit just then."

 

Blair forgave him and shrugged before continuing.  "And MacNamara.  That file is even worse!  A sentinel breeding program!  The guy was a monster."

 

"Blair, Rose was working for MacNamara.  They were in this together.  It's just that Rose's file is the cleaned-up for Adler's and the company's use version.  I have no doubt in my mind that Rose is going to use Alex Barnes to make him some little sentinels if he figures out a way.  I also know that if he manages to fix her senses and tighten the loose screws in her head, he'll use her skills on the black market."

 

"That's sick."

 

"Well, that's the lay of the land, my friend."

 

"We have to stop him."

 

"Yeah, I think we do.  I have some folks poking around for information on Rose but so far, no luck.  I'll let you know when I have something."

 

"Wait, you said something else.  You said, Adler's and the company's use version.  I thought the CIA was responsible."

 

"To a point.  But Blair, even the CIA would think twice before setting up a human breeding camp.  Senator Adams told me that they seemed a little too stunned when he confronted them with that file.  The old man is annoying as hell, but one reason he is so annoying is because he's a good judge of character.  He says the CIA higher-ups were unaware of that particular part of Ron's little scheme at least.  They knew about Jim and the project and ended up admitting to its questionable legality, but not the breeding thing.  They even seemed to think that you came along willingly.  They didn't seem to know that you were taken against your will.  And the Pentagon was even more unaware of what was going on.  Adler was crazy, a loose cannon.  He'd lost it and Rose took advantage of it.  I think Rose and MacNamara were working for somebody else.  It's the only thing that makes sense.  Ron was free and clear with me.  I wasn't going to hand him over to Adams because he agreed to help me.  So, the way I figure it, he was either too scared of his employers to give them a shot at him and offed himself or they offed him for caving to me and made it look like suicide.  Ron thought a little too highly of himself to commit suicide just because I kicked his ass at his own game.  No, Ron would have come after me and got his revenge or at least tried to.  We are not out of the woods yet, Blair."

 

Blair gathered up the files again and got up.

 

"Where are you going?" Pete asked him.

 

"To go through these one more time.  There's got to be something in here that will give them away.  Some little detail not hidden just right or something.  My first time through these, I was too busy being mad and—well, hurt to be objective.  This time, I'm going to find what they were hiding and then we are going to nail Rose's ass to the wall."  He turned and left then, vaguely aware of Pete's incredulous eyes and slack jaw as the man stared at him.

 

Simon Banks stood at his window, the one that looked out over the bullpen, and watched Jim Ellison.  Jim had returned to work that morning.  Simon had tried to dissuade him, but he was determined.  So far, he had shifted papers and files from one corner of his desk to the other several times, stared at his computer, taken a few calls and just generally looked lost.  Simon sighed.  He looked down at the file in his hand.  While it was true that he had wanted Jim to take a little more time for himself before he returned to work, he had finally determined that Jim needed something to do if he was going to be on duty.  It would, at least, occupy his mind.  Slapping the file against his leg, he made up his mind.  He strode out of his office, motioning to Joel Taggert as he made his way to Jim's desk.  "Jim, I have case for you.  Joel will be riding with you on this.  There's been a series of robberies, all high tech stuff.  A security officer was killed during the last one so it was kicked to us this morning.  I need you to head over to Watson Technology and see what you can find out." 

 

"Sure, Captain." He stood and reached for the file.

 

"Jim, are you sure you're ready?" Simon touched his arm.

 

"Yeah.  I need to do something, sir."

 

Simon nodded and relinquished the folder in his hand.  Joel was waiting quietly near the door to Simon's right.  Simon nodded to him and Joel returned the nod with a small smile.  Jim grabbed his coat and followed Joel out of the door of the bullpen, leaving his captain and friend to wonder if he was doing the right thing.  In the meantime, there was something he wanted to do.  Something that he had wanted to do for a week.  He turned and walked back into his office and picked up the phone.  He dialed the number and waited for someone at The Devereaux Agency to answer the phone.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he hung up the phone and sat back in his desk chair. Despite Devereaux's news that he was certain that there was a dangerous third party still out there to be dealt with, he had been somewhat encouraged by Devereaux's other news.  Blair was doing well, and he was thinking.  Devereaux had told him that Blair had gone through both Rose's and MacNamara's files and realized that Jim had not set him up.  Simon could only hope that this was the first step toward Blair forgiving Jim and coming home.  Yes, Jim had made a mistake or two, but, much to Simon's relief, he had not intentionally hurt Sandburg. 

 

Perhaps Blair only needed a little push.  Simon's eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in thought.  Perhaps if Blair could be reminded that he had other friends in Cascade willing to help him, he would come on home and try to work things out with Jim.  He picked up the phone once again.  This time, when he hung up, he had reservations on a flight to Washington, D.C. in the morning, if one could call 4:40am morning.  He had stayed out of this quite long enough.  Blair was his friend and so was Jim.  Neither of them could be happy with the way things had ended.  Jim felt as if he did not have the right to search out Blair, so be it.  Simon, however, figured that he had every right.  After all, he cared for the kid, and he wanted his friend back.  That was right enough for Simon.  

 

Alex Morrow yawned as he walked into the office.  It was getting quite late and he had spent the entire day trying to hunt down information on Ron MacNamara's activities over the last several months.  He ran one hand through his dark hair.  Perhaps it was time for a haircut.  He had been wearing it a bit long lately but it was nearly touching his shoulders now.  That was a bit much.  Soon, he would look like Jesse and Kit.  Well, not like Kit.  The man wore his hair almost all the way down his back.  Alex shook his head and smiled to himself. 

 

He was just about to knock on his boss's door when he noticed Blair Sandburg in one of the other rooms.  Sandburg seemed completely engrossed in what he was reading.  Alex had met the younger man when he had picked up his co-workers and boss at the airport.  Alex saw in Blair Sandburg the same sadness and confusion that he had seen in Jim Ellison when he was here.  Yet, Sandburg was not content to sit back and let others deal with the problems.  He was like a man obsessed.  He had learned the computer system in less than a day.  He had absorbed every word that Pete had said, learned every aspect of the mundane operations of the agency in only a few days.  Then something strange happened. 

 

Pete started stalling.  Sandburg should have been turned over to one of the field operatives for training.  He had even volunteered to take Sandburg on.  Pete had looked horrified.  Alex would have been insulted had he not known that Sandburg had a phobia of guns.  He realized that Pete was worried that maybe Alex's brand of training would have been a little overwhelming.  But that did not explain why Pete was still dancing around the subject.  Both Jesse and Kit had offered to train him as well.  Jesse would probably be perfect in Alex's opinion.  Sandburg seemed to pick up the computer system so fast, after all.  At any rate, Sandburg was still puttering around the office most of the day, offering to do this or that for whomever was present, only to have Pete give him some trivial task. 

 

Now though, Sandburg seemed very intense and focused on what he was looking at, and Alex could not help but wonder what had him so enthralled.  He redirected his steps to the small conference room where the younger man sat.  "Hello," he greeted as he entered.

 

Sandburg jumped a little and jerked his eyes up to Alex's.  "Oh, hi Alex."

 

"I didn't mean to startle you."

 

"That's okay.  I wasn't paying attention."

 

"I could see that.  What are you looking at so hard?"

 

"The files about—well, Jim and me.  And Alex Barnes, too.  I'm trying to find some clue to where Rose might have gone and who might have been backing him besides the CIA and the Pentagon.  I mean, we have already determined that the vast majority of the Pentagon was oblivious, right?"

 

"Right."

 

"And we now know that the CIA was not aware of the breeding program."

 

"So they say."

 

"You think otherwise?"

 

Alex shrugged as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from Sandburg.  "I don't know.  I don’t put anything past governments anymore."  He leaned forward and reached for one of the files. "May I?"

 

"Sure, I could use all the help I could get.  Anyway, Pete thinks that they didn't know so he thinks that there's a third player and that that third player may be sheltering Rose and Barnes now."

 

"Okay, then let's see what we can find."

 

Two hours later, Sandburg shoved the open file away and put his head down on the table.  "There's nothing.  How can there be nothing?"

 

Alex sighed and closed the file in front of him.  "Maybe we aren't looking in the right places.  We've poured over every piece of paper in here."

 

"I guess I should have realized that they wouldn't have been careless enough to leave clues in here.  I mean, even MacNamara never mentions a name and this was his personal file!" Blair sat up and Alex saw anguish in the blue eyes that begged him silently to find some answer somewhere.

 

"Well, Pete thinks he was pretty scared of his employer.  He wouldn't finger them even on the threat of taking the fall himself when Pete confronted him.  He would make sure that his written records wouldn't give them away either.   Okay, perhaps we were asking too much to expect a name or blatant reference.  What if the reference is there but not in a form we can see?  We need Jesse."  Alex reached for the phone.

 

Sandburg stopped him before he could lift the receiver.  "Alex, it's after midnight.  Even Pete's gone home.  I guess it can wait until morning.  Let's go home.  Kit is probably getting worried about me by now."

 

"I doubt it.  Kit's probably not home himself yet.  Pete sent him to Baltimore to check out Rose's last employer.  He didn't tell you?"

 

"I didn't get to see him today.  Who was Rose's last employer?"

 

"Well, I use employer for lack of a better word.  Let's just say that he was getting quite a bit of money from these people for what his income tax records called contracted independent research.  Someplace called Millennium Research Foundation.  And if it didn't seem fishy enough, we are having a hell of a time trying to track down the actual owner.  Even Jesse couldn't find a clear trail, so Pete sent Kit to snoop around.  And Jess is still trying to get into their computer system.  It's closed up tight, though."

 

"Millennium Research?  Where have I heard that before?  Wait!"  He grabbed the discarded file and began to frantically search through it.  He snatched up one sheet of paper and waved it at Alex.  "Here it is!  I got a grant from them, two actually.  This may be it, Alex.  It's gotta be it!  Millennium Research."

 

"Good.  Then maybe Kit will bring us something back."

 

"Yeah, maybe."  Sandburg seemed to deflate then.

 

"You're tired.  I'll drive you to Kit's."

 

"Thanks." 

 

"No problem, it's on the way."

 

"I thought you lived out in the woods somewhere."

 

"I do when I can.  When I'm working, I have an apartment here in the city.  It's not as secure as I'd like. It's a locked building and has alarms, but I'd rather trust my own kind of security.  Of course, the other tenants wouldn't appreciate my idea of security very much."

 

Sandburg quirked an eyebrow at him but did not ask.  He just slipped his jacket on and followed Alex out of the office.  They were in the elevator heading down to the garage when Sandburg finally spoke again. 

 

"Would you teach me to handle a gun?  I'm not completely without experience.  I have fired a gun, you know.  I just need to get comfortable with it."

 

Alex smiled and met his eyes frankly.  "I can't teach you comfort.  What I can teach you is skill.  Perhaps with skill will come comfort.  Are you sure you're ready?"

 

"Gotta do it sometime.  Besides, maybe if I take the initiative, Pete will stop hovering over me like a mother hen."  There was almost a real smile on his face.

 

Alex laughed.  "Pete is a mother hen.  He does that to us all from time to time."

 

"Well, he's as bad as J—never mind."

 

"I met your Jim, you know?"

 

"He's not my Jim," Sandburg muttered bitterly.

 

"You know what I mean.  Anyway, he seemed like a fairly decent fellow.  A little slow on the uptake but not a bad sort."

 

"No, he's not a bad sort."

 

"You know, one of the drawbacks to being human is our enormous capacity for making mistakes.  Devastating mistakes, sometimes.  But one of our human virtues is that most of us have the capacity for forgiveness.  Some of us have more of a capacity than others.  Me?  I'm still working on mine.  What about you?"

 

Sandburg stared at him for a long moment before closing his eyes and swallowing hard.  When he opened his eyes again, he shrugged a little and said, "I guess I'm working on mine too."

 

"Good.  As long as we are working on it, we are making progress in our humanity, eh?"

 

"Yeah."  The rest of the trip was made in silence.

 

Part 3