| Blackout by
Kristine Williams Part
4
"I know, Chief." Jim sat down in one of only two comfortable
chairs in the hotel room, protecting his aching ribs with one arm held close to
his body. "If I'm right, it explains a few things. Like the needle marks
on your arm." Suddenly remembering them, Blair stopped the pacing he'd
started and pulled up his right sleeve, seeing again the bruising and marks there.
Another chill ran down his spine, just as a multitude of others had coursed their
way from his confused mind through his aching body, since he watched himself in
a dream-like state pull Jim's revolver from the desk, take careful aim, and shoot.
"Jim, there's more to this than just the Burgini trial." Blair turned
to face his friend, then had to turn again as anxious feet demanded movement.
"Blair--" "Jim, I spoke with Dr. Stoddard. Only you said
he wasn't there." Blair reached the end of the room and turned, glancing
at Jim as he redirected his movement. "So if he wasn't there, then just who
in the hell did I talk to about you?" The question was emphasized by his
pause in front of Jim's chair. Before his partner could answer, he was back on
the move. "And if it wasn't Dr. Stoddard all that time, and I was talking
to this Giovanni person, then, man, we have got problems here, Jim!" "Sandburg--"
"I told him all about the research, Jim. I told him about what you can
do, and how it works so well on the job." Blair added a hand gesture to each
point, determined his friend see the seriousness of the situation. "I told
him all about your edge, even the things that can interfere with it." To
bring his point home, Blair stopped pacing, staring at Jim. "Chief, let's
not jump to any conclusions just yet, okay? We're both tired, and sore, and right
now lucky to be alive. Now, it could very well be that you were simply made to
believe you had spoken with Dr. Stoddard about your work. If they were trying
to program you to assassinate me, then learning what they could from you wasn't
a high priority. Right?" Reluctantly, and with some hope, Blair nodded.
"All right, then. The first thing to remember is, it didn't work. You
didn't kill me, and you're still alive. So whatever he did, it's over. Now that
we've figured him out, we're on the offensive." Blair sighed, rubbing
his forehead. The headache he'd been trying to ignore was getting more and more
insistent. "I dunno, man. The realities of this are just coming in, you know?"
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, only then realizing he'd sat down
on the edge of one of the beds. Jim was beside him, looking down. "I know,
Chief. Are you going to be okay to sleep tonight? What did the doctor say?"
"I don't remember. I was too busy trying to make him tell me what happened
to you." Blair's glance paused at the right side Jim was protecting. "Are
you okay, really?" "I'm fine." Jim gave Blair's shoulder a gentle
squeeze and walked to the other bed, sitting down with some effort. "Just
some bruises. Good thing Simon made me put that vest on." "God, Jim.
I could have killed you." How often had he said that since meeting the man?
Taking a deep breath, Blair remembered one of Jim's favorite sayings: Anything
you lived through was a good thing. Well, maybe not a good thing, but survived
at least. He was not going to let his mind run wild with this! "Okay,
how do we know there wasn't some kind of contingency plan or something? What if
there's something else I'm supposed to do?" "No, you'd know about
it now, Chief." Jim turned to Blair, but remained on the bed. "We did
some of this in Covert Ops. One of the men was trained in planting suggestions
and some basic psychological programming techniques, to put it simply." Simply.
How could anything like this be simple? Blair turned more on the bed to face Jim.
"After the task has been exposed, and the subject realizes what's happening,
it's over." "Yeah, that makes sense." He nodded, then reached
up to rub his throbbing forehead around the bandage. "That's why some people
can't be hypnotized, they can't give in to it." "And you meditate
all the time, making it pretty easy for someone using the right drugs to get into
that head of yours." Jim's words were delivered softly, and without malice,
but the guilt and anger they drove home were sure enough. "I guess I made
a pretty convenient target." "Don't, Blair, it wasn't your fault.
I've seen trained men fall victim to worse. Besides, if I had read that postcard
sooner, or put this all together before you got my gun out of the desk, I could
have talked you out of this, just like before." "Yeah, well, what
do we do now? I mean, can we go after this Giovanni guy, or what?" God,
his head hurt! Why couldn't Jim have talked the gun out of his hand this
time, too? If only it hadn't happened so quickly. Humiliation, he could handle.
At least last time, he never pulled the trigger. Not at Jim. "What we
do right now is get some sleep. Then tomorrow, we talk to the Department shrink
and see what we can find out." "Make me remember what really happened,
you mean?" Blair nodded slightly, still rubbing his forehead. "Something
like that." Jim kicked off his shoes and sighed again. "Listen, Chief,
I won't lie to you. Unless we can come up with some hard evidence, or get Burgini
to cooperate in some way, there's a good chance we'll have nothing to go after
Giovanni with." Blair gave in to the pounding in his head and fell back
on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, he pondered the truth. "Without physical
evidence, there's no case." He heard Jim move on the bed beside him, but
there was no reply. "But his plan didn't work, did it? You're not dead, which
means you can still testify." Blair turned to look at his partner. "So
does that mean he'll try again?" "Maybe." Jim shrugged, then
very carefully got up. "Are you sure you're okay?" "I'll
be fine, Chief." Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder, and was about to say
more when the phone rang. "That must be Simon." He took a few steps
to the phone, then turned and pointed back at Blair. "I want you to sit down
and take it easy. Whatever happens next, isn't gonna happen tonight." Nodding,
Blair stayed where he was and listened to the only side of the conversation he
could hear. "Ellison. Yes, Simon, we're fine. What? He'll cooperate now?
I want to talk to him. All right, fine, tomorrow then. I know, we've talked about
that. Yeah, she can help him remember, for what good that'll do. Good night, Simon."
"What did he say?" Jim glanced at Blair, then walked to the bathroom.
"He wants you to talk to Dr. Gates tomorrow." "The Station shrink?"
Jim nodded, then entered the bathroom, making Blair wait until he was finished.
"What good will that do, Jim?" Blair asked as his partner came back,
still drying his hands. "If we can't use anything but hard evidence against
Giovanni, how will making me remember things help?" Jim walked to the
other side of the bed, and began to unbutton his shirt. "We might not need
evidence now, Chief." He pulled off the shirt and unbuttoned his jeans, kicking
off both shoes as he did. "Burgini wants to make a deal. He wants to testify
against his nephew." "Then he knows. You were right about what Giovanni
did, and he knows about it." "Looks that way." Jim ran a hand
over his hair, then rubbed his eyes and looked over at Blair. "We'll get
him, Chief." Blair nodded, his mind beginning to spin almost as badly
as his vision had when he stood. He began to undress as well, trying to find the
answer to a question nagging at him from somewhere. "Just get some rest.
Things might make more sense in the morning." Jim got into bed but settled
the pillows up against the headboard and sat up. "The doctor said you had
a slight concussion, so I'm going to wake you every few hours. You'd better try
and get as much sleep as you can." "What about you, Jim?" Blair
pulled off his shirt, then kicked off his shoes. "I'm not tired. Not yet,
anyway. There's too much about this case that needs to be worked out." Jim
shook his head and smiled tiredly. "Get some rest, Chief. We'll need access
to what's in that head of yours tomorrow." Blair replied with a sigh,
and started to unbutton his jeans. Then the question finally clarified. "Jim,
we can't talk to Dr. Gates. She'll find out about you." Jim rubbed his
eyes again, not looking up. "What are you talking about?" "Jim,
your Sentinel abilities." Blair moved closer to the side of the bed, suddenly
realizing why a simple visit to a psychologist was worrying him so badly. "If
I tell her what I was telling Giovanni, or whoever did this, she'll think I'm
nuts!" "Sandburg, everyone at the Station thinks you're nuts."
"No, look, I am serious here, Jim. I just may have told a major crime
boss more details about your Sentinel abilities than even you know. God
knows what kind of trouble that might have caused. We can't risk someone else
finding out. She'd either believe me and report it, ask too many questions; or
worse, have me declared unfit and get my Observer credentials taken away."
That finally got Jim's attention. "See? We have to find another way,
Jim." "What do you mean, more than even I know?" Oh,
man, that was not the point! As both a diversionary tactic and because having
raised his voice slightly made his head pound, Blair brought one hand up to press
against his forehead for a moment. That gave his answer just the amount of time
it needed. "I've got it!" "Got what, Chief?" "You.
You can help me remember." Blair's hands reflected his discovery, trying
to convey that confidence to his friend. "Just like when I helped you remember
what you heard on the answering machine that time Jack called you. It's that easy,
Jim." "I don't know about that, Chief." Jim shook his head,
holding up a hand. "You knew what you were doing." "And so do
you." Blair nodded to counteract Jim's negative reaction. "Yes, you
do, Jim. You know what you need to look for. As a cop, you know what they probably
did, when, where, how, all of that. I can get myself into a relaxed state, then
you just have to guide me through it." "No." Jim shook his head
again, holding both hands up to emphasize his point. "Sandburg, what you're
talking about is not something you just sit down and guide someone through. I
could accidentally plant suggestions in your mind, or take you someplace dangerous.
Or even trigger something." "No, Jim, it will be fine. All you have
to do is walk me to the beginning, then take clues from what I tell you. Come
on, man, you're a detective. And you said you knew about this from your time in
Covert Ops. You know what to do here, Jim." Blair paused, seeing
his words have some effect on his partner's face. "I trust you." Jim's
jaw clenched as his face reflected a struggle. Finally, he flipped the blankets
off his legs and swung them off the side of the bed, facing Blair. "Listen,
we might not need to go through this. If Burgini is going to cooperate, he can
give us something to go on. We won't get any hard evidence from you anyway, Chief,
so why put yourself through this?" "Jim, I've lost a week of my life."
"I know." Jim stood and walked to the wall where the light switch
was, plunging their room into night. Blair watched as his partner walked back
to the beds, his eyes straining to adjust to the moonlight streaming in through
the large windows. "Jim, we can't just let this go. I can't just let this
go." Jim stood next to Blair, putting one hand on his shoulder. "Sandburg,
we aren't letting anything go. We'll get him, I promise." He smiled, almost
sadly, then sat down on the bed and nodded toward the other one. "Now, get
some rest." Shaking his head, Blair sat down automatically. "Jim,
I've lost a week of my life. I have memories that aren't real. I tried to kill
you because someone somewhere told me to try, and I don't know why!" He stared
at Jim, defying him to deny his own right to the thoughts inside his head. Surely
Ellison, of all people, understood this! "I understand what you're going
through." Jim paused, closing his eyes for a moment. "Listen to me,
Chief. Someone stole one week of your life, and replaced that week with memories
of things that didn't happen. They used drugs, and all kinds of techniques I don't
even want to describe to you, and they planted the suggestion that you should
kill me." Blair felt his jaw tensing uncontrollably. Anger welled up inside
that needed an outlet, but he was trapped there, sitting on the side of the bed
facing Jim. "It sucks, and there's nothing we can do to change what they
did. Trying to remember how they did it isn't going to help." "Jim--"
"And there's nothing that can bring that week back, Blair." The
anger flared in both cheeks, burning his face with impotent rage. He knew Jim
was wrong. There had to be a way to get that week back. There had to be a way
to replace the false memory of all those hours with Dr. Stoddard, with the truth.
"Sandburg, I know this isn't what you want to hear." "No,
Jim, it isn't what I want to hear." Blair's anger shot through his feet and
he stood, intending to pace the life out of the hotel carpet, but Jim reached
out and took his arm, stopping his forward motion. "Blair, I can tell
you what you'll remember." He stopped, turning to look at Jim. His partner's
gaze was intense, compelling him to listen. "I can tell you that they
kept you someplace for 4 or 5 days, drugged you, told you what to do, then erased
what they'd done with memories they gave you." Jim's voice was harsh,
and so cold it sent shivers down Blair's spine, but it wasn't anger chilling his
tone. There was nothing of his voice or words that spoke of anything but an urgency
for Blair to understand something that couldn't be changed. "Nothing will
bring back that week, or take away what they did." Jim released Blair's arm
and looked at him a moment. "If I can protect you from that memory, then
I will." All of the anger coloring Blair's face drained down through the
floor as he stood there, looking at his friend. The intensity of his eyes had
changed to a look he'd seen before only occasionally. It was a look that reminded
Blair there was still a part of Jim Ellison he didn't know, and perhaps never
would. While that look didn't frighten him, Blair still sat down, all thoughts
of pacing the room to death lost to the truth just told to him by someone who
knew it all too well. "Did you do this to anyone?" The silence
only lasted a moment. Jim nodded, looking at Blair. "I helped do it. One
of the men in my unit was trained in the detailed work. The rest of us were backup."
Blair's head began to pound again, adding to the numbness filling his mind.
All of his frustration and anger abandoned him then, leaving a cold, tired feeling
in its place. "You said if he'd planted any other suggestions, I'd know,
right?" Jim nodded. "Once you've realized what happened, the illusion
is broken." "So I can't hurt you again?" "It's over,
Chief." Jim's hand rested again on Blair's knee, trying to impart a physical
reassurance. "You can't hurt me, or yourself." "No." Blair
shook his head, but waited until Jim's hand left his leg before swinging both
up onto the bed. "It isn't over until somebody pays." Next
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