Well my muses have all dried up on my other stories, but a particular bad muse has entered the

arena, and is demanding attention. Since the other muses (excluding one) are afraid of her, guess

what. You guessed it, we work her story now. This story is pretty much all thought out, and most of

its written out. Its weird, and Blair won't show up in it for awhile. So be warned about that, but I

thought all the Jimbabes need something while waiting for Kim to come out with the next part in her

story. Anyway here goes the usual stuff...

Rated: I'll Pg-13 it for the violence and language, though I might have underrated it....then again it

depends on your point of view

Summary: He who dies with the most toys still dies. Yeah I know its a suck summary...shoot me.

WARNINGS: Okay big time warning here. Nonconsensual spanking. Yes, you read right. And no

this is not a slash story. This just fits or at least I think it does. Course with my warped mind it might

not. But it will be in there so if you don't like that then don't read it. No one's forcing you to(its not

like you have a muse holding a gun to your head like I do....hey hey I didn't type that...no no...I'll

write, I'll write it for god's sakes, just uncock the hammer.....jeez psycho muse.)

Part 1

Jim Ellison slowly opened his eyes, wincing as the pain in his temples made itself known. Closing his

eyes again, Jim reached up with one hand to rub away the ache. As he did so, Jim attempted to roll

over into his back when he felt the weight around his neck and heard the scrape of metal on

concrete. opening his eyes again, Jim surveyed his surroundings. The room was perhaps 20ft squared

with the walls made of steel, and the floor concrete. Jim was lying on a mattress with light blue sheets,

and a dark blue blanket. In one corner of the room was a sink, toilet, and an open shower. Against

the wall was a small metal table jutting out from the wall with a metal stool bolted to the floor.

Exploring with his sense of touch, Jim found the weight to be a metal collar with a heavy chain that

ran from the collar to a hole in the wall. Curious about the hole, Jim threw off the covers to find he

was wearing dark grey sweats and not the jeans he had worn when he had been kidnapped. Ignoring

the clothes, Jim checked the hole with his enhanced vision to find that the chain was attached to a

hoist which would allow someone to shorten or lengthen the chain with a push of the button. Having

satisfied his curiosity on the hole, Jim stood and looked over to what he believed was a door. It had

no handle or port but Jim could see the outline and knew it to be a door.

Jim's sensitive ears and sight caught the cameras in the vents and knew them to be recording his

every move.

There was nothing else to be discovered in the room., so Jim went back and laid down on the

mattress to await his captor's appearance.

Having fallen back to sleep while waiting, Jim was awakened by the click click of a locking

mechanism in use. A grinding noise signalled the start of the hoist and Jim watched as the slack of the

chain was tightened to where Jim would not be able to leave the mattress. At the same time the door

opened and a man walked in.

The man was tall, well muscled with greying black hair cut in a near buzz wearing a dark suit.

Jim could see that the man wore a gun in a shoulder holster beneath his jacket and Jim surmised that

he was just the underling, not the one in charge.

The man walked in pushing a small cart which held a tray, pitcher and glass. The man wheeled the

cart over to the table, and began to transfer the contents of the cart to the table. When he was done,

the man wheeled the cart out without saying a word. Jim didn't say anything realising it would be

useless to question the goon.

When the door relocked, the hoist started up again giving Jim back the slack.

Once the hoist stopped, Jim stood and walked over to the desk. The tray held roast beef with

potatoes, carrots and gravy, corn, broccoli and bread with a slap of butter. There were even a few

small packages of salt and pepper. The fork was plastic and the cup as well. The tray was

cardboard, and the pitcher filled with ice tea was plastic.

Jim's heightened sense of smell detected no poisons so the sentinel dug in eating everything on the

tray. When he was done, Jim left the tray and utensils on the table and went back over to the

mattress where he laid down pulling the covers over him. Once he was settled on the mattress the

hoist started again taking away the slack.

Some minutes later the same goon entered, took the tray and plastic ware, then left.

The lights went out some minutes later as the hoist gave Jim some slack, enough to go to the toilet

and sink., but not as much as before. Eventually Jim fell back to sleep.

==================

Part 2

Some hours later, Jim awoke for the third time since his kidnapping from his Loft apartment while

Sandburg had been out on yet another one of his dates from hell with Samantha. The kid was a

glutton for punishment, at least in Jim's opinion. Samantha should have been persona non gratta

months ago.

After Jim made use of the facilities, the hoist started again, and because of its slow movement, Jim

was able to make it back to the mattress before the chain got to tight.

Again, the door opened and the same man came inside pushing the cart. Scents wafted to the sentinel

on the air, and Jim could smell pancakes, and eggs and sausage. Sandburg would have a cow when

he found out what Jim's captors were feeding him and would no doubt put the sentinel on a diet of

algae shakes ala pond scum.

The man set the tray, glass and pitcher on the table. He also set down a small pile of clean clothes, a

towel, and a small bag. The man then wheeled the cart out of the room locking the door behind him.

The hoist started up, and when Jim had enough slack he walked over to the table.

Inside the small bag was a razor, shaving cream, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, and a bottle of

shampoo. Jim set the bag aside and ate his breakfast after checking it for drugs or poison with his

sense of smell. When he finished breakfast, Jim went over to the shower with the towel, shampoo,

and soap.

Stripping out of the grey sweats and black boxers, Jim stepped under the spray that had started

when he got over to the shower. Obviously the water was remote controlled.

Jim scrubbed himself clean with the soap, then washed his hair. Once out of the shower, he dried off

wrapping the towel around his waste and proceeded to shave using the polished metal bolted to the

wall above the sink as a mirror, then brushed his teeth.

The clothes were a clean set of black sweats and blue boxers. Putting them on, Jim then replaced the

items back into the bag and left his dirty clothes were they lay.

He made it back to the mattress before the hoist started again.

The same man came inside. He checked the contents of the bag carefully, making sure the blade was

still inside the razor, and that everything was there. The man silently packed up everything, placing the

dirty clothes inside a white laundry bag, loaded everything onto the cart and left.

Lunch came several hours afterwards, a ham, turkey and two kinds of cheese with lettuce and

tomato sandwich. The same man brought it. Then dinner, then lights out.

Jim passed the day with exercises, and exploring his cage using his senses. Unfortunately, the room

was soundproof and not even his exceptional hearing could get past the wall.

When the lights went out, Jim lay beneath the blanket. He could hear the air coming in through the

vents, the electronic whirr of the motion sensitive cameras, and his own heartbeat thumping in his

ears. The heartbeat he most wanted to hear wasn't there, and Jim found he missed it more than he

thought he would.

Eventually sleep did find the sentinel.

*****

Jim counted the days by the meals, and the lights out. He had no watch or calendar, nor could hear

know whether or not the cycle inside reflected the one outside. But Jim felt that the lights out gave

him close to an accurate accounting.

When eight days had passed, each one accompanying visits from the same goon who brought the

meals, and the clothes, Jim's frustration at his captor's lack of communication finally exploded.

"What the fuck do you want!!" Jim yelled at the mics he knew where there, at the one behind the

cameras who had watched him for eight days while the sentinel slept, ate, showered, and pissed, all

without any privacy or even a semblance of privacy.

"Do calm down, Detective Ellison." A voice said through the two way mike hidden on one of the

vents.

*******************

Part 3

Jim crossed his arms over his chest in satisfaction. Finally, the captor reveals himself, and maybe now

Jim could get some answers.

"Who are you?" Jim asks the disembodied voice.

"My name is irrelevant, Detective Ellison."

"Kidnapping is a crime..." Jim started to say, but his captor interrupted.

"Let us not begin that old song and dance, Detective. I can assure you that I will not be going to

prison."

"Mistakes are always made, especially in operations of this magnitude."

"I have no wish to discus this right now, Detective...or perhaps I should call you...sentinel?"

Jim's heart felt as if it had stopped beating for a few seconds, and an old fear came to the front of his

mind.

"Do not be alarmed, Detective. Yes, I know that you are a sentinel, but I did not bring you here for a

lab rat. Mr. Sandburg's dissertation, and notes are enough information for us to keep you reasonably

healthy and to not make any mistakes on food or medication should you need it."

"What is going on. Why have you brought me here?"

"I have known you were a sentinel since the Switchman case when Mr. Sandburg suddenly attached

himself to you. I have been following Mr. Sandburg's career quite closely as his interests mirror my

own. Not far from where you are I have another vault, sealed, with artifacts that research indicates

belonged to tribal sentinels. I even have a full skeleton of a man believed to have been a sentinel. I

could never determine one way or the other, but it is in my collection."

Jim had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"For three years I debated whether or not to have you brought here. Each time the argument of a

sentinel's need to protect, and my own fears of my empire collapsing should I be discovered and sent

to prison kept it at bay."

"So what made you change your mind?" Jim had decided that the man was not some career criminal

with a criminal empire. The man was a businessman with the same interest and obsession that Blair

had.

"Because I am dying, Detective Ellison. Three months ago my doctor diagnosed me with an

inoperable brain tumor. He gave me a rough estimate of six to eight months to live. You know the old

saying, Mr. Ellison...'he who dies with the most toys still dies'. I may not be able to take my money or

anything with me, but I can still die with the satisfaction of having owned a sentinel." And with that the

microphone cut off.

Jim stood in the room and contemplated the conversation, then looked around the room that Jim

feared would be his prison for eight long months.

***********************

Part 4

Jonathan Garrison stood quietly, hands at his side, as he waited for his friend and employer to

maneuver his body to the wheelchair beside the bed.

The tumor had taken away some of his ability to move his limbs and caused some psychological

problems, but David Keith Mandorian II was still every inch the powerful man who had earned every

cent of money he had. With his money and influence he had made powerful men and women dance

to his tune.

When David was seated in the chair, Jonathan moved forward and pushed the chair out into the hall.

As they walked down the hallway they discussed financial deals, and David mentioned that he

wanted to see his lawyer.

Jonathan nodded and said he would call the man.

Jonathan Garrison had been a Navy Seal instructor before he blew out his knee in a training exercise.

He had been friends with David before that, childhood friends, and when Jonathan had been at loose

ends, David had hired him as his Head of Security. Jonathan had been with David during David's

obsession with sentinels. Going with the man all over the world in search of sentinel artifacts, and

hopefully a sentinel.

When Blair Sandburg had found and began to work with Jim Ellison, David was sure that James

Ellison was a sentinel. He had decided at that time not to risk prison to kidnap Detective Ellison.

However, the tumor had changed all that. Not only had David decided that prison was no longer a

threat, but his obsession with sentinels had grown.

Jonathan would do anything for his friend, and kidnapping a detective had been small compared to

what lengths Jonathan would go to for his friend.

And even thought the tumor was causing bouts of anxiety, depression and psychosis, David was still

the man he had always been during his moments of clarity which were becoming shorter and shorter.

During one of his periods of clarity, David had made Jonathan promise to stop him if he suddenly had

a delusion that he could take the sentinel with him like the Egyptians believed, or anything equally as

crazy. Jonathan had promised, and he would keep that promise.

David did not want the sentinel to die which was one of the reasons he wanted to contact the lawyer.

David wanted to change his will leaving his sentinel artifacts to Blair Sandburg including the sentinel

he had taken from the young anthropologist. Jonathan wished he could be there when the will was

read to see Blair's face when he received the news. To be there when Blair Sandburg goes to the

mansion and opens the door to find his sentinel. But Jonathan would not be there. David had made

sure that Jonathan would be out of the country safe from prosecution.

Jonathan wheeled David into a room were large video screens showed the contents of the room

located in the sub-basement of the mansion.

On the screen the sentinel lay asleep on the small but comfortable mattress. David sat quietly in his

chair staring at the screen, and Jonathan saw the few tears drops falling down his friend's face.

Wondering if David was going through one of his depressive bouts, Jonathan watched as David

wheeled himself over to one of the viewscreens. His friend reached out with a hand and placed it on

the viewscreen were it covered the sentinel's face. David stroked the screen as the tears fell down his

face.

==============

Part 5

A few days after Jim's captor had conversed with him via the speaker, Jim woke up that morning

feeling antsy. He paced the room, dragging the heavy chain behind him looking for all the world like a

caged cat. He was extremely bored, and un-use to inactivity. Excercising himself into exhaustion had

worked for about a week, but now not even that helped.

The hoist started up, and Jim reluctantly returned to the mattress as the chain shortened.

However the hoist did not stop at its usual length. Instead the chain was slowly shortened more, until

Jim had to follow it or risk strangulation.

When the hoist stopped, Jim's cheek was pressed against the smooth metal wall, the chain so short

that only a few inches escaped the hole.

Jim hated the position he was in, standing on his knees, body pressed against the wall knowing he

was completely helpless.

The door unlocked and the same man entered. Jim could barely see him out of the corner of his eye

and could not turn his head to look trapped as it was between the wall and the chain.

For the first time the man spoke to Jim, "Place your hands behind you, Detective." The man ordered.

Jim, already pissed at his helplessness, refused to do so.

The man behind him sighed, "I was hoping you would cooperate more than this. Unfortunately, I

don't have time for this."

Footsteps echoed in Jim's ears as the man moved closer.

Before Jim could react the man seated himself behind Jim putting his knees and shins on Jim's calves

immobilizing Jim's leg with his weight. However Jim struggled, trying to use his free hands to get in a

few blows difficult as it was to hit someone who was behind him.

The next thing that happened shocked Jim completely. The man was trying his best to grab Jim's

wrists but the sentinel was having none of it. Finally in frustration, the man smacked Jim's cloth

covered ass with the flat of his hand at the same time ordering Jim to stop.

The blow had been so unexpected that Jim froze for a second which was enough time for the man to

grab his wrist and use pressure points to bring Jim's hands together.

The man used a leather strap that he buckled into place to tie Jim's wrists together. Once that was

done, the man then used another strap to tie Jim's ankles together effectively immobilizing the sentinel.

The last thing was the dark blindfold that the man tied around Jim's head blinding the sentinel

temporarily.

The man patted Jim's bare shoulder in an attempt to comfort the sentinel.

More movement behind him and a swirling of scents indicated that others had entered the room.

A key was used to open the padlock that attached the chain to the collar. Strong arms from at least

four men lifted the sentinel and placed him carefully laid him on his stomach on a gurney. Straps were

utilised to keep the sentinel in place, and then the gurney was wheeled form the room.

Jim tried to use his other senses to figure out where they were going. He could still sense the other

men, but could detect no one else.

He was wheeled into another room where the gurney stopped, the gurney's straps removed,a and

once again the sentinel was lifted.

When he was settled down again the first thing he realised was that he had been laid half in and half

out of someone's lap. His chest rested against the top of someone's thighs, and his legs were resting

on a mattress.

Jim started to squirm, uncomfortable in his position. Another hand, hard, and quick, slapped his ass

yet again, and the sentinel stopped squirming...again shocked by the blow.

Then another hand descended, but this one did not strike. Instead it laid gently on his head and began

to stroke his short hair.

Slightly afraid, Jim opened his sense of smell. From the man he could smell salt, sweat, and human

scent, but no hint of pheromones, nothing to indicate the man was aroused by the petting. The

sentinel discovered what the salty scent was when he felt the first splash of a hot tear fall onto his

bare back, and knew the man to be crying.

The hand continued to caress his head, petting soothingly, moving downward slowly. Caressing his

head, then his neck, and downward to his bare shoulders, all the while hot tears fell against his back,

and the sound of a soft sobbing in his ears.

Time passed. Jim did not struggle or squirm. Though embarrassing, he was not being physically

harmed, and Jim used his time out of the soundproof room to utilize his hearing in determining the size

and extent of the structure they were in. He extended his hearing, using the echolocation to determine

his surroundings, the touch of the man's hand used as a temporary lifeline to prevent zoning.

When the man's petting reached the small of his back, Jim's fear returned and he began to squirm

again. But the hand did not strike again. Instead the one caressing him patted his back soothingly,

whispering for Jim to be still, that he wasn't going to be harmed, or molested.

Jim already felt as if he had been molested, just not sexually. There was still no smell of arousal, but

Jim felt as if he needed to shower for a very long time.

Once Jim stopped squirming, not because of the man's promise, or the threat of another slap, but the

shere fact that Jim had no chance to escape. Not with his hands and feet secured. Jim would wait for

the right opportunity to come, and then take it.

The man's petting continued, starting up again at Jim's shoulders, working their way downward.

When they reached the small of Jim's back again, the sentinel tensed, but the man continued, petting

over the cloth of Jim's sweats as he moved over Jim's butt and down the back of his thighs to his

calves.

When he reached the middle of Jim's calves, he stopped, lifting the hand from Jim. With a light pat to

Jim's rear, the sentinel's captor nodded, and hands picked up Jim and replaced him on the gurney.

He was returned to his room, the chain relocked to his collar, and the restraints and blindfold

removed.

"What the hell was that about?" Jim asked the goon angrily.

The man looked sad. "The tumor causes severe depression sometimes. I've stopped him from killing

himself a few times because he made me promise to do so. He fell into one this morning, and I

thought and he thought that perhaps if he could..." The man couldn't say it. "It helped. I could tell. The

crying and the touching. His face slowly changed, his mood lightened. I really think it helped. I guess

you don't really care."

The man walked out of the room.

"Your right. I don't care." Jim said, but he knew it to be a lie. The only one he could really hate was

the man who had walked out. The man who was sane, and was allowing it all to happen anyway. Jim

thought, *Money can buy everything.*

************************

Jonathan left the room and walked up the stairs to David's room where he had been moved after

Ellison had been taken back to his cell.

David was lying in his bed, eyes closed, but Jonathan knew he wasn't asleep.

"You know, Jon, I've meditated before. You know that, of course. You were there with me in

Thailand at the Buddhists temple. I remember it to be relaxing and soothing, but today. Today I have

never felt such relaxation, such peace. It was wonderful, and soothing, and magical all at the same

time. Thankyou my friend for helping me to feel that." David reached out with a trembling hand, and

Jonathan took it in his own.

"No thanks needed, David. Rest now." He said smiling. David smiled back, eyes shining with tears of

happiness unlike the deep sadness before. Then the eyes closed as David fell into a deep peaceful

slumber.

=====================================

Part 6

Another day passed and nothing of significance occurred. Meals and clean clothes were brought, but

Jim was not taken from the cell. Jim spent the time between meals either pacing or exercising. He

tried meditation once. It lasted about five seconds before he became too frustrated.

All day Jim could have sworn he still felt the man's hands all over him. When he had taken his shower

that morning, Jim had practically scrubbed himself raw. He wished he had more clean clothes and

towels so he could shower again.

When Jim had begun exercising enough that he sweated they had started bringing him a towel and

boxers before lights out with the last meal so that Jim could shower before bed.

Jim's patience ended and his frustration exploded three days after the "petting" session.

The man brought Jim his lunch following through with the usual procedure. Jim watched him from

where he lay on the mattress, eyes as cold as icebergs. The man noticed, but said nothing as he sat

the tray down.

After he left, and the chain was loosened, Jim walked over to the table. At first, Jim had planned to

sit down and eat, but as he looked at the cardboard tray and the plastic spork something inside

broke. With an angry almost inhuman roar, Jim picked up the tray and threw it against the wall. Then,

growling, he swept the tea filled pitcher and plastic glass onto the floor. Tea splattered everywhere.

Jim then punched the wall. Ignoring the pain it caused, Jim continued to beat on the wall cursing and

shouting at his faceless captor. The hoist started up and the chain slowly shortened.

Jim fought the chain, grasping it with his hands as he was dragged to the mattress. Like the day of the

petting session, the chain was shortened so that Jim's cheek was pressed against the wall. Though the

chain was only an inch from the wall, Jim continued to fight practically choking himself. The door

opened and Jonathan rushed in. He immediately set his knees and shins on top of Jim's calves

immobilizing his legs, then tried to grab Jim's arms. Jim managed, however, to throw his head back

hitting Jonathan squarely in the face. Blood poured from Jonathan's nose, and Jim found satisfaction

from the scent of the man's blood.

Jonathan ignoring his now broken nose, ordered Jim to calm down.

"Fuck you!" Jim shouted and tried to buck the man from his legs.

"Calm down, Ellison." Jonathan ordered again as he managed to capture Jim's wrists. Using pressure

points he brought Jim's hands behind his back one at a time and used handcuffs to secure them. Even

though Jonathan double locked the cuffs, Jim fought them, the metal of the cuffs tearing into the skin

of his wrists.

"Damn it!" Jonathan shouted. Pressing his shoulder against Jim's back, Jonathan took out a syringe

from his jacket pocket. With the syringe between his teeth, Jonathan tugged Jim's sweats and boxers

exposing Jim's ass. At that Jim bucked back nearly knocking Jonathan off. In frustration, Jonathan

swatted Jim's ass with his hand as hard as he could. Jim stiffened for half a second, and Jonathan

took that moment to take the syringe, jab the needle into Jim's ass cheek and inject the sedative into

the sentinel.

Jim fought the sedative, his sentinel nervous system a great advantage enough so that a sedative that

would knock out a normal man only caused the sentinel to become weak and sleepy.

Once the sentinel succumbed to the sedative, Jonathan signaled and the hoist started up giving the

chain enough slack so that Jonathan could lay sentinel on the mattress.

"fuck you." Jim mumbled, his body refusing to cooperate, as Jonathan laid the sentinel on his

stomach.

"You need to calm down, Ellison. You're only hurting yourself. You won't be here forever." Jonathan

told the sentinel as he pulled Jim's boxers and sweats back up.

"Fuck you." Jim mumbled again.

Jonathan shook his head sadly. He knew that Ellison would continue to fight them and he needed to

speak to David about it. Patting Jims' calf Jonathan continued to hold Ellison down until the sentinel

finally fell into a deep sleep.

*******************************

Part 7

David had given Jonathan permission to do what he thought was necessary where it concerned the

sentinel.

So while the sentinel lay on the mattress, Jonathan had two of his men who knew about the situation

and were being paid to keep quiet bring in a large screen TV, and hook it up. A bookcase was

brought in and filled with paperback books, and a Bowflex machine was brought in as well. When

they were done setting up the stuff, they left leaving Jonathan in with the sentinel.

Jonathan looked at Ellison who glared back with his icy blue eyes. "The television is controlled by

whoever is in the Observation room. If you want it on just tell them. They'll even change the channel.

We have satellite with every movie channel and sports channel. The books are all new releases within

the last month and range from all types of fiction and non-fiction. If there is any particular book you

would like to read just ask out loud and we'll get it for you. Don't take apart the weight machine to

pick the lock of your collar. We have someone in the Observation room at all times watching the

cameras. He'll alert us if you try anything."

"That's alot of people who know about this." Jim said.

"They are loyal...either to my employer or his money. They will not be in the country when my

employer dies."

"And no doubt they will be given plenty of money to tide them over." Jim said with a sneer.

"Of course."

"So what happens if I do take apart the machine, or break the TV?" Jim asked.

"I was about to get to that. If you break the TV it will not be replaced, neither will the weight

machine. You will also be punished. If you break anything else you will be punished. If you attack me

or any of my people you will be punished. If I come and get you for another session or for any

reason you will not fight me or you will be punished."

"Oh yeah, and what does my punishment entail?" Jim said through clenched teeth, anger seething just

below the surface.

Jonathan removed from the small of his back a wooden paddle made from oak. Carved into the

paddle was the word, "sentinel". "I believe no explanation is needed. If you act like a child, you will

be treated like one." And with that Jonathan turned and left the room.

=====================

Part 8

Jim lay on the mattress on his stomach and stared unseeing at the blank TV screen when a

disembodied voice came over the speaker, "Do you want the Television on?" The unknown voice

asked.

"Why the hell not," Jim said disinterested.

The TV screen came on and the evening news was on. Jim's sentinel vision focused in on the date.

*Two weeks,* He thought, *Its been two weeks.*

"Its been two weeks. Two weeks, Simon, and nothing. Not one damn clue! Where is he!" Blair

practically screamed.

"Calm down, Sandburg. You won't do Jim any good if you give yourself a stroke. Listen, Blair, I

know you are worried about him. We are doing everything we can to locate him." Simon said from

behind his desk.

Blair plopped down in a chair, "I know, Simon. I'm just worried about him. Who took him and

why?"

Simon took a good look at the young detective before him. Blair was pale, and was thinner than he

had been. No doubt worry and fear gnawed at the young man too much for him to worry about

eating or even sleeping if the bags under his eyes were any indication.

"We've gone over and over all his old cases. Nothing. We've turned over every rock, and pushed

our snitches to the limit, and still nothing." Blair said.

"I know."

"I am starting to wonder if maybe this has to do with Jim being a sentinel. Maybe the government, or

a shadow government has him. Oh God, we'll never get him back if that's true." Blair whispered in

horror.

*Jeez, how long has he been scaring himself with this idea* "Look Blair...." He was interrupted when

Rhonda came in.

"This came for Blair in Jim's box" Rhonda said holding up a sealed envelope. Her voice hopefull.

Blair took it from Rhonda and carefully opened it hoping against hope that it would turn out to be

evidence.

Blair unfolded the letter within and began to read the simple line that had been printed on the page.

"He is alive, and he will be returned to you unharmed."

Blair dropped the letter and as he watched it flutter to the floor, a single tear drop splashed against it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Part 9

Jim was using the bowflex on his legs after having worked on his upper body when he heard the familiar sound of the hoist starting up. Jim stopped, and stood up from the bench and calmly walked over to the bed as the chain hooked to his collar began to shorten. When the hoist stopped, Jim waited on the mattress using a towel to wipe sweat from his face as he waited.

The door opened to admit Jonathan carrying a large towel, and a clean pair of boxers, and sweats.

Jim looked at him, it was too early for them to bring him fresh clothes.

Jonathan placed the clothes on the table then turned to look at Jim, "Get showered and get dressed, immediatley." The man said.

Jim wondered what it was about. Jonathan left the room and the hoist gave him back the slack on the chain. Wondering what was going on, Jim stripped out of his sweats and boxers and got into the shower.

He showered quickly, then dressed in the clean clothes. Then while he waited he read the newest Jack Higgins novel.

The hoist started up again and Jim watched from his postion on the mattress as the chain dissapeared into the hole. Then he noticed that it hadn't stopped at its normal length. Throwing down the book in anger, Jim moved to kneel down against the wall. His knees, chest and cheek pressed against the wall and waited.

He didn't have to wait long for Jonathan and two men came in immediatley.

Jim didn't fight as his hands were brought behind his back, and secured there with leather cuffs, and a blindfold placed over his eyes. His ankles were secured with a leather strap that buckled in place, then the chain was unlocked from his collar and he was picked up and placed on a gurney. The gurney was wheeled from the room.

He was wheeled into another room where David waited. David was in his bed, pale and weak. Tremors wracked his body at times, but his eyes were clear as he looked at his old friend and smiled.

"You brought him." David asked in a hoarse whisper. It was not a question.

Jonathan smiled back at his old friend, then motioned to the men. They picked Jim up and laid him on the bed on his side next to David. Jonathan easily manuevered Jim's head into David's lap. David reached out almost immediately placeing his hand on Jim's head. He stroked Jim's hair as if the sentinel were a cat. Jim shuddered at David's touch.

Not wanting to be petted again, and not caring about what Jonathan would do, Jim began to squirm, trying to get away from whoever was touching him.

David gripped Jim's hair in his hand as the sentinel struggled and reached over with his other hand and gripped the back of Jim's sweats, and his boxers.

"Stop struggling." David told the sentinel. His mind was clear, the depression wasn't evident, but his voice was weak as was his strength.

Jim didn't stop struggling, and managed to pulled his head out of David's grasp.

David sighed, then with his hand pulled down Jim's shorts and sweats exposing Jim's buttocks. Jim paniced, not knowing what was going on, unable to see. It wasn't until David's hand smacked him across his butt that Jim realised what was happening.

Jim tried to get away, but two more hands gripped his arms, and used his weight to keep Jim still as David continued to rain blows with the flat of his hand on Jim's butt until the area was bright red. Jim had stopped squirming after the tenth blow, but they had kept coming.

When it was over, Jim felt the prick of a needle in his already sore butt, and the feel of the liquid being pushed inside him.

The shot turned out to be a sedative. Jim fought it, but in doing so he managed only to stay awake and aware, but his limbs and the rest of his body refused his commands.

David's hands went back to stroking Jim's head. Jim vaguely felt the restraints on his ankles being removed, then his boxers and sweats were removed completely. Jim's mind wanted his body to panic, but his body didn't cooperate. The restrainst were replaced, and Jim remained beside his captor as the dying man petted his head until sleep overcame him and the hand stopped its stroking.

Jim was not moved, however, now that the man was asleep. Instead, Jonathan seated himself on a chair and waited. David had told him what he had wanted specifically, and Jonathan was there to make sure it happened. David had wanted to fall asleep to the feel of his sentinel against him, and beneath his hand, and to wake up to the same.

Eventually, Jim fell asleep as well, and Jonathan stood and placed a light afghan over Jim's nude form. He petted the sleeping sentinel's head, replaced David's hand on the sentinel's head from where it had fallen off in sleep, then smiled down at his employer and friend, then seated himself back in the chair picking up a Clancy novel to read as he waited for David to awaken.

Jim woke up slowly, opening his eyes to find he was still blindfolded. Ahoving down his rising panic, Jim expanded his senses to get a better idea of his surroundings.

He found he was still laying in the bed, his head resting on his captor's thigh like faithful hound. His captor's hand rested on his neck below his ear, and from the slow heartbeat and respiration the man was still asleep. Jim lifted his head which caused the man's hand to slide off his neck onto the bed behind Jim. As he did, another pair of hands gripped his shoulders.

"Easy, just stay still. Don't wake him up."

Jim recognized the voice of his captor's henchman. Jim groaned and laid his head back down on his captor's thigh trying not to think about it. One of the hands patted his shoulder, and Jim grimaced at the thought of the man saying, "Good, sentinel."

Luckily, the man said nothing and removed his hands from Jim's shoulders. Jim's relief was short lived however as he felt his captor's hand gently replaced on his jaw and neck, resting just above the collar.

His captor awoke about an hour later, though Jim had only his internal clock to go by. The man awoke slowly, and hissed in pain.

Jonathan watched David awaken, waiting with pills and water glass in hand. David's face was scrunched up from the headache he no doubt had. Jonathan quickly pressed the pills into David's hand. His friend popped the pills into his mouth, the drank the water offerred. When he had finished the water, Jonathan wiped the excess from David's mouth, then rested his hand on his friend's forehead.

David smiled up at his friend, the pain from his migraine making his vision blurry. He mouthed a silent thank you to his frien, and Jonathan smiled and nodded.

Jonathan returned to his seat while he waited for David's meds to kick in.

While they waited, David's hand which had lifted from the sentinel to get his pills returned to Ellison's head and resumed the petting from the night before. Jonathan could tell Ellison was extremely uncomfortable with David touching him, but Jonathan refused to deal with it. David wasn't touching him for sexual gratification, nor did David plan to rape the sentinel or harm him physically. It was just a form of comfort for a dying man.

10b

Within two hours the pain meds began to work, and David was able to move around more, and was more coherent.

David patted Jim's head, then motioned to Jonathan. The ex-Seal easily lifted Jim and moved him to the foot of the bed so that David could move from the bed to his wheelchair which Jonathan maneuvered close to the bed. Once David was settled in the wheelchair, Jonathan placed a light quilt over his friend's lap. He then called for the others, who immediately entered the room with a gurney. They placed the sentinel on the gurney and wheel him from the room.

David watched as they wheeled his sentinel out, then turned to his friend, "Is Dr. Barrington here?" David asked.

Jonathan nodded, "Yes." He said as he pushed David out of the room into the hallway.

"Did Mr. Sandburg recieve the letter?" David asked.

"He did."

"Good, I didn't want him to worry so much that he neglects his health."

Jonathan noticed that David seemed in a better mood than the one yesterday.

Jonathan wheeled David into the library where an elder man waited. Dr. Barrington had been David's doctor for as long as David had lived, and was loyal to the man.

"Sit down, Michael. Do you want something to drink. Jonathan get Michael a gin and tonic." David began not giving the Doctor time to answer.

Michael said nothing as he watched Jonathan make the gin and tonic from the bar. David had never used to treat Jonathan like a servant, but the tumor confused the man sometimes. Jonathan, ever the friend, took it all in stride.

"David, we need to talk." Michael said as he took the gin and tonic from Jonathan setting it on a table untouched.

"Of course!" David said with a smile as he sipped the water from the glass Jonathan had handed him.

Michael looked at Jonathan, and the ex-Seal nodded. "David, your CAT scan came back. The tumor... the tumor is growing at a more accelerated rate than we originally thought."

Suddenly David became pensive, "And that means... "

"David unless you agree to chemo or even radiation therapy, I can only give you an estimate of perhaps three months to live, and that's being generous."

"No." David shook his head, "No, chemo, no radiation. I will die with dignity if nothing else."

Michael nodded. It was an old argument.

David turned to Jonathan, "Is everything in order?"

"Yes," Jonathan said, tears in his eyes.

David smiled sadly and reached out touching his friend's arm, "Don't worry my friend. I've lived a good life, and you've helped fulfill my final wishes. I will die a happy man knowing that I was loved by a good friend like you."

If nothing else, the statement had Jonathan release his tears, silently.

A few minutes later, Michael was shown out by one of the servants.

Jonathan and David were alone in the room.

"I want him brought to my room every night. He'll sleep there instead of his cell. Keep him blindfolded, and secured. I don't want him injuring himself fighting you." David said.

Jonathan nodded. David knew he was close to dying, and the man was taking what pleasure and comfort he could from the one thing he had sought all his life. Perhaps if David had been in his right mind he would not have had the sentinel kidnapped, or perhaps he would have. Jonathan was sure that David would not be treating the sentinel as if the cop was the last dog left on earth. He would have treated the sentinel as the if the cop were the last white tiger left on Earth. To be admired from a distance, but not to attempt to tame the beast.

But the tumor was causing delusions, and psychotic behavior, but as long as Jonathan was around, the sentinel would not be harmed, and David would have his wishes and desires fulfilled.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fri Jul 7, 2000 9:05am

Subject: The Most Toys 11/?

Two days later...

Jonathan walked out of the sentinel's cell pushing the cart with the tray of uneaten food. Two of his men, ex-Navy men whom he trusted explicitly waited for him.

"Where's Kilgore?" Jonathan asked.

"Home sick. Says he has the flu." One of the men said.

"The flu? Are you sure?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah. Luckily we've had our flu shots. Kilgore's afraid of needles, so he didn't get his."

Jonathan shook his head at that... an ex-Navy SEAL afraid of needles. Then his eyes narrowed.

"Wait a minute. Ellison hasn't been eating his food, and he hasn't gotten out of bed for any length of time... " He trailed off.

"You think he's getting the flu?" One of the men asked.

"Damn... probably. I don't know if he's had the shot or not. I'd better go tell David." With that Jonathan walked toward the Library.

David listened as Jonathan explained about Kilgore and the possibility of the sentinel having the flu.

"I don't know of any doctor I would trust to look at him." David said. "I guess we'll have to take care of him. Sandburg's notes specify that Ellison can't handle over the counter cold medicines. He uses herbal stuff. Have Yeng make up some tea or something to help. Echinicea I believe helps. Maybe Goldenseal." David said.

Jonathan nodded.

Yeng was the chef, but was also a herbalist. Yeng listened carefully as Jonathan explained that one of his men had the flu, and he needed some herbal remedies. Yeng was not among the few that knew of the sentinel's existence.

Yeng nodded, and said he would make up some tea that he claimed would help.

A call to a doctor got Jonathan the information he needed on battling the flu.

The next time Jonathan went into the sentinel's cell he took some of the tea, and juice, along with some Vitamin C supplements and a basin and washcloth. He walked in just in time to see Jim vomit into the toilet.

The sentinel looked pale, and there were circles under his eyes. Jonathan imediately walked over with the washcloth which he wet under the faucet in the sink. When Jim was finished vomiting, Jonathan used the cloth to wipe the sentinel's face. Jim was to tired and weak to fight him.

"Looks like you've got the flu." Jonathan said as helped Jim back to the mattress.

"No shit." Jim mumbled.

"I've got some tea that will help. You need the liquids."

Jim didn't even bother to argue. He felt too much like shit to even care to fight.

Once Jim sitting up on the mattress his back against the wall, Jonathan handed him the tea. While Jim drank it, Jonathan removed the chain leash from Jim's collar. Jim looked at him.

"I seriously doubt you're in any shape to be fighting us, so while you are sick I'll give you bit a reprieve."

"Thanks," was all Jim said.

Jonathan nodded.

"Here's some Ibuprofen for the muscle aches, but I know its about all you can handle."

Jim nodded remembering the incident with the cold medicine he had taken.

Jim swallowed the tablets, then finished off the tea. Jonathan took the empty cup, and placed it on the table. Jim laid down on the mattress, and Jonathan covered him up with the comforter. Jonathan placed his hand on the sentinel's forehead, and noticed Ellison was a bit warm. But not too bad. Jonathan figured the ibuprofen would help. After bundling Jim up in the comforter, Jonathan took the empty cup and left.

Eventually, Jim fell asleep.

Two days later...

"Hold him down!" Jonathan shouted to his men.

Beneath them the sentinel was convulsing, the fever and the virus causing sensory spikes, and delusions. Right at that moment Jim was fighting them with incredible strength.

Jonathan was trying his best to hold the sentinel down while trying not to hurt him. His hands rested on Jim's back, using his strength and weight to hold Jim down. One of his men was trying his best to keep some kind of control over Jim's legs, while the other man nursed a broken nose from his encounter with Jim's foot.

"What do we do?" Frederick who was holding Jim's legs asked.

"We need to get his fever down." Jonathan answered. "Billy get a basin of water and a washcloth, we'll see if that will help. And get some Tylenol as well. Then when you bring that here talk to Yeng and see if he knows of any way to bring down fevers. Hurry."

Billy, who had gotten his nose to stop bleeding, nodded, and left the room.

Jim started to settle down a bit as he groaned in pain and dispair, his delusions overwhelming him.

Jonathan placed a hand on Jim's forehead. "Damn, he hot as furnace."

Billy returned with the items, then went to go talk to Yeng. Jonathan dipped the cloth in the cool water and rubbed it gently over Jim's face. At first the sentinel groaned and whimpered, but eventually he began to relax, the water soothing.

Jonathan continued washing Jim's face while Frederick stripped the sentinel of his clothes and placed towels beneath him. Billy returned with herbs for the water that Yeng had said would help. Jonathan continued to wash Jim's body with the now herbal water. About an hour later he felt of the sentinel's forehead. "Its not as hot, I don't think, but he's still pretty warm."

"I'll get a thermometer." Billy said.

"Do we have any of those ones for the ear?" Jonathan asked.

Billy shook his head, "I doubt it. Just a regular one, is all I think. Plus the one for Maria's baby."

Maria was the live in housekeeper.

Jonathan nodded.

Billy returned with the thermometer handing it to Jonathan. Jonathan shook it until the mercury was down far enough.

He tried to place it under Jim's tongue. Within a few seconds the sentinel vomited.

"Ugh." Billy said as he grabbed some towels to help clean up. "Man this guy is sicker than Kilgore was."

Frederick nodded and picked up the thermometer and washed it clean.

While Frederick cleaned the thermometer, Jonathan washed Jim's face and neck with the herbal water.

"Uh, Jonathan. We got a problem. This damn things cracked." Frederick said.

"Shit!" Jonathan said, "Is there mercury leaking?" Worried that the sentinel may have accidently swallowed some.

"It doesn't look like it." Frederick said.

"Damn." Jonathan said as he continued to wash the sentinel's body with the herbal water. He placed his hand on Jim's forehead. It was still hot. "Go and get the other one."

Neither of them made any wisecracks... which was good because Jonathan wasn't in the mood for them. He had just soon hit one of them if they had said anything.

Frederick just nodded and left the room.

Jim groaned again, barely conscious, and Jonathan continued to bath the sentinel with the herbal water.

Frederick returned with the baby thermometer, and a jar of Vaseline which he handed over to Jonathan.

"Continue to use the water." Jonathan said handing the cloth to Billy then taking the items from Frederick.

He shook the thermometer until the mercury was down, then smeared a bit of the vaseline on the tip.

When Jim, still just barely conscious felt the hand on his asscheek he went wild.

"Hold him down!" Jonathan ordered and both men raced to obey.

While Frederick and Billy held the sentinel down, Jonathan placed the tip of the rectal thermometer inside Jim's body through his anus and held it there for five minutes. Jim tried to fight, but Frederick and Billy held him.

After five minutes, Jonathan withdrew the thermometer and read it. 103 degrees. Jonathan handed the thermometer to Frederick and told him to clean it and bring it back.

For another hour, Jonathan bathed the sentinel with the herbal water, and managed to get Jim to swallow some Tylenol. After the hour was up they took his temperature again. 100 degrees.

Another hour passed, and Jim became more conscious as Jonathan bathed him. He opened his eyes, and stared at Jonathan while the ex-SEAL washed his face with the cloth. The stare was not hostile, but more confused than anything else.

"Your fever got pretty high. I think it messed with your senses. You got a bit delusional." Jonathan said.

The other two men in the room said nothing. They each had a basin and washcloth and were using it on the sentinel's body.

Jim nodded in understanding. He himself didn't remember anything.

"I need to take your temp again." Jonathan said as he picked up the thermometer and rubbed vaseline on the tip. Jim's eyes widened.

"Its the only one we've got. You cracked the regular one." Jonathan explained.

Too weak to fight, Jim allowed Frederick and Billy to roll him over onto his stomach. He tried to ignore what was happening.

Five minutes later, they rolled him onto his back, and Jonathan read the temp. 98. "That's better. We've got it below a hundred now."

They bathed Jim for another hour, rechecked his temp which was closer to normal. After that they dried him, then redressed him in clean boxers, gave him some tea, then placed two comforters over him, and left him to sleep.

Part Two