On stakeout
Sunday, early evening

"Man, I can't believe we blew the entire weekend waiting for Newport to meet up with his brother. With our luck, Raul was so embarrassed by the robbery that he left town without even saying hello." Sandburg barely paused to take a breath before starting up again. "How often do we get both a Saturday and a Sunday scheduled off, and this is how we end up spending them?"

"Cheer up, buddy, at least we get Monday off, no matter how the surveillance goes. What do you say about a day of fishing before the cold weather sets in?" Ellison understood how his partner felt. Four teams had kept Paul Newport under surveillance since he was released on bail Friday afternoon. Other than the cable installer who arrived while Abels and Trenton were on watch, no one had entered the small apartment. When he heard about it, Sandburg joked that the brother had probably paid for the cable to educate the slower man with the glut of true-crime shows available on late night cable.

"I'd say it sounds great." Sandburg reached for the thermos of coffee, but stopped as a dark blue sedan pulled up behind them. "Next shift's here. Poor Brown, he got stuck with Norbert this time."

"Serves him right. He took the last prune danish this morning." Ellison rubbed at the sides of his face. "Man, am I glad to be done here for the day. I don't think I could listen for much longer."

"Is your hearing bothering you? Why didn't you say something?"

"It's not my hearing, it's what I'm listening to." He saw the question on his partner's face and knew that he was not going to get away without an explanation. "Do you remember Dr. Demento?"

"Dr. Demento? Man, I haven't heard that name in ages. One of Naomi's old boyfriends used to listen to him when I was a kid. Is he still on the radio?"

After acknowledging Brown and Trenton, Ellison started the truck. "I don't think so, must have been a tape, but those songs..."

Blair softly began to sing as he buckled up. "They're coming to get you, they are, they are. They're coming to get you, they are..."

"SANDBURG!!"

Laughing and enjoying each other's friendship, neither man noticed the battered 4 x 4 that was parked on the next block down, nor the familiar face that watched them pass.

Patterson's All-Night Groceries Parking Lot

"Come on Jim, do we really need donuts to go fishing? I'm fixing you a nice big breakfast before we leave, complete with bacon. Isn't that enough preservatives for one day?" The two men were walking back to the truck, each with a bag of groceries.

"You're a cop now. Donuts are a vital part of who we are."

"Yeah, right."

A well-trained expression of serious concern was on the Sentinel's face as he turned to face his Guide. "Didn't they tell you about it at the academy?"

Sandburg was falling for it. He knew it and couldn't stop himself. "Tell us what?"

"The powdered sugar -- it absorbs the gun oil from your skin."

Sandburg froze in the middle of the parking lot, it had been a long time since his partner had pulled one over on him, and the older man was obviously enjoying it.

"Close your mouth Junior, before the bugs fly in."

"Funny, man, very funny. Too bad your sense of humor isn't heightened. Maybe we should start testing that one now."

Ellison set his bag in the bed of the truck, and turned back around, a retort at the ready, when he heard the sound of an accelerating engine. A black Chevrolet truck, headlights off, was careening across the lot with Sandburg directly in its path.

"Sandburg, look out!"

Sandburg saw the big truck only seconds after Ellison and was already running for cover, groceries tossed aside. He made it halfway to the row of parked vehicles before tripping on some unnoticed debris in his path.

"Blair! No!"

Ellison could only look on in horror as Sandburg twisted his body to fall between the oversized tires as it rushed up on him. Within seconds it was over, and Ellison found himself leaning over his partner.

"Blair? Buddy, can you hear me?"

With a groan Sandburg rolled onto his back and tried to sit up. A firm hand on his chest kept him on the ground as sentinel senses assessed the damage.

"Jim, I'm okay."

Eventually his partner came to the same conclusion and helped him to sit up. Breathing heavily, the younger man leaned his forehead against his friend's shoulder. "Where did that come from?"

"You were obviously a target, Sandburg." Jim grasped the younger man's arms and braced himself to pull them both upright.

"Yeah, but who was it?" He accepted the boost up. "What did you see?"

"It was so fast, I'm not sure..."

Blair slipped instantly into Guide-mode. "Come on Jim, you saw it. You know the drill, play back the memory, slower this time and look inside the truck."

Ellison's eyes lost some of their focus as he replayed what had just happened.

"Damn, come on!" With no further explanation he bolted for his truck, Sandburg a step behind him.

"Jim, wait! What do you remember?" Blair grabbed the taller man's coat before he could reach the driver's side door. "Tell me!"

"It was Newport!"

"Are you sure?" He answered his own question, "Of course you are. Think Jim, how can you track him? What did your senses pick up?"

It only took the Sentinel a split second to answer. "It sounded funny. No, there was a hole in his muffler, that's what I heard."

"Can you still hear it?"

A tilting of the head, then, "Yes."

Sandburg grabbed the keys and pushed him towards the front of the blue and white Ford. "I'll drive, you listen." By the time Ellison made it to the passenger side, Sandburg had the truck fired up and into gear. As Ellison struggled to get the seat belt on, Sandburg raced out of the parking lot and onto the street.

"Which way?"

"Umm, left. Towards Harborview Drive. What do you hang onto on this side, Sandburg?" Ellison slid forward and banged his knees on the hard metal dashboard.

"Brace your feet against the firewall, and put one hand above the windshield. Which way now? We're coming up on Harborview." The driving courses at the academy were paying off as he smoothly passed three cars while flipping on the lights and sirens.

"Right. He turned right on Harborview. He's about a mile and a half ahead of us. WATCH IT!" As the Ford took the corner in a full power slide, Ellison collided with Sandburg's elbow. "Oww!"

"Sit still, man." Sandburg barely glanced at his partner; instead, concentrating on the road as it narrowed through a construction zone. "Where is he now?"

"I'm trying to sit still." Damn, he always made this look easy.

Sandburg was secretly enjoying the other man's struggles in the passenger seat, but he didn't have time to gloat. "Which way, Jim?"

"I lost him." Ellison breathed a sigh of relief as he finally got himself securely wedged into place.

"Well, find him!"

It took a few seconds, as Ellison had to squash his temper down into place. "He turned off of Harborview. It was a left, he made a left turn."

"To where?"

"I DON'T KNOW." For a second, the Sentinel let his anger and frustration get the better of him. "It echoed weird...that's it! He turned in at those old warehouses. You remember, where that last arson fire was."

Sandburg allowed himself a small smile in the darkness of the cab. "Okay, well hang on, Jim." He killed the lights and siren and with no further warning yanked the wheel hard, crossing the old railroad tracks that traveled parallel to the road.

By the time they were on the other side of the tracks, Ellison had bumped his knee, whacked his elbow on the door, and hit his head on the interior of the roof. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Enjoying what?" His smirk told Ellison that he knew exactly what the bigger man was alluding to. Wisely, he decided to change the subject. "Over there, isn't that the truck?"

Ellison only grunted his acknowledgement as Sandburg pulled in behind the black 4 x 4 that sat abandoned next to a gutted building.

An abandoned warehouse near the harbor

"Call it in, Sandburg." Ellison was out of the truck before it came to a complete stop, running towards the warehouse.

Well-acquainted with the demand, Sandburg pulled the cell phone and his service weapon out of his backpack as he exited the Ford.

Less than a minute later, Sandburg slipped into the abandoned building and dropped down beside his partner. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

Ellison ignored the question. "Is back-up on the way?"

"ETA's about 15 minutes. There was a bus accident over on Shaw and 16th Ave. and everything's jammed up. We're on our own until then. Man, I wasn't expecting him to come after us."

"Not us, you." Ellison tried to extend his senses, but reeled back in when the smells of the old building threatened to overwhelm him. Diesel fuel, rotting wood and the smells of the waterfront made a potent combination.

"Because I busted his brother?" Sandburg turned to face Jim and shook his head. "Isn't that a little over the top?"

"You're an only child, Sandburg. I don't expect you to get it; you've never had a little brother."

"They're twins, man. That only makes them minutes apart."

It was the Sentinel's turn to shake his head. "Doesn't matter, it's the attitude, not the age. You arrested the guy while he was trying to live up to his brother's reputation."

"What, now I'm the playground tattletale? Gee, thanks, man." Sandburg leaned back against one of the broken crates that littered the floor of the abandoned building. "How do you want to play this?"

"I can't track him in here, there's too many smells, and the sound is echoing like crazy." He leaned back next to Sandburg. "The best we can do is to keep him pinned down until back-up gets here and we can sweep the building."

"Won't work, there's got to be at least four different exits in this place, and that doesn't count the holes in the walls. Squatters don't even use theses places cause they're so bad."

Ellison knew his partner was right, "All right, what do you suggest?"

Sandburg thought for a moment. "Let me think, smell and sound are out, right?"

"Yeah."

"What about touch?"

Ellison looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Touch?"

"Yeah, man, think about it. Nobody's been in this place in ages. We've stirred it up. Body heat, air currents, find a direction that 'feels' different."

The Sentinel was already nodding as he began his search. "There, to the left and up those stairs." He was up on his feet, and then a touch to his arm stopped him.

"Now that you have a direction, piggyback sound on it and narrow it down." Sandburg bounced ever so slightly. This is the way it should be, Sentinel and Guide, protecting the tribe together. It's all been worth it. "Can you tell where he is?"

His brow knit together, Ellison concentrated as his Guide had told him. A relaxing of his features and a slow smile told when success had been achieved. "I've got him. Upstairs, northeast corner, hiding behind a crate." Now he opened his vision, studying the best method of approach. "I'm going up these stairs. I want you to go around to the right and take that other set of steps over there. Do you see them?"

Sandburg stared into the gloom, following the direction his partner was pointing. "Umm, not really, but if you say that there are stairs over there, then I'll find them. Are you sure we should split up?"

Ellison missed the days when he could have told his friend to stay in the truck, but never more than right now. "If he sees me coming up the steps, he may try to bolt the other way. You'll have to be the one to stop him if he does. Besides, I'm not sure those stairs can take the weight of both of us on them." He grasped Blair's shoulders and turned him slightly. "Follow these cartons until you can see the old office, the stairs are on the right hand side of the doorway. Go!" He shoved slightly to start Sandburg in the right direction, then dashed for his own set of stairs.

He was halfway up the stairs when he heard Sandburg's voice, sentinel-soft. "I'm upstairs and in position. He doesn't know I'm up here, but he knows you're on your way. Stay against the wall, I think he's going to try to throw something at you."

Sandburg crept closer, watching as the suspect edged closer to the main stairs, hefting what appeared to be a large metal gear in his hand. When he raised it above his head, aiming at the man on the stairs, Sandburg had no choice. Stepping out of the shadows, he reached for the holster strapped to his belt, but never touched the cold metal housed there, as he called out, "Cascade PD, freeze!"

The suspect spun around, dropping the gear from his hand. It wobbled as it hit the wooden floor, then rolled down the stairs. Ellison braced for it to hit him, but instead the weight of the heavy object broke the top six steps, leaving him no way to reach the second floor and leaving his rookie partner alone with the wanted felon who had already made one attempt on the young man's life.

Sandburg was momentarily distracted by the sound of the stairs giving way and Newport took advantage, shoving over a stack of wooden pallets onto the young man.

"Chief!"

Ellison could only listen in horror as Newport moved in on his trapped partner. He was too far down the stairs to help with no way to reach the top. He turned, intending to make a run for the second set of steps when the staircase he was on collapsed from the strain.

~CRASH~

"Jim! Jim are you all right? Can you hear me?" Blair's panicked voice could be heard over the echo of the falling debris. Ellison could only groan as he struggled to stay conscious. Blair, run. Get out of here.

Raul Newport couldn't believe his luck. The cop that had arrested his brother lay on the floor in front of him, pinned down and trapped. His big partner was on the ground floor, hurt and also helpless. For a moment he didn't know which one to deal with first. When a groan and movement from down below caught his attention he knew where to start and moved towards the remaining set of stairs.

"No!" Blair saw the look on Newport's face as he looked down at the injured Sentinel. "You leave him alone. I'm the one that caught your brother, just leave Jim out of this."

He paused, seemingly to consider Sandburg's words, then moved past Sandburg and towards the stairs.

Sandburg struggled in vain to free himself. Desperate, he looked around for something to use to defend his partner. A crate had fallen and broken open in the chaos and he spied a rotting cardboard box marked 'bearings' inside it. Reaching as far as he could, Blair snagged the box with his fingertip and pulled it closer. The box broke open easily, and he grabbed a handful of the small metal balls and heaved them towards the fleeing suspect.

Later, Sandburg would refer to this as a cartoon moment. Newport seemed to be running in place as the ball bearings made standing impossible. Seconds later, there was a strangled "nooooo" as the wanted felon tumbled down the stairs, his fall cushioned somewhat by the pile of filthy rags that had been discarded near the bottom of the steps.

"Sandburg?" The sound of a falling body had roused the dazed Sentinel. Only when he heard the muffled curses did he realize that his partner had not fallen. Ellison drew his gun as he crawled to his feet and slowly limped in the direction of the stairs. He stood over the suspect and called out again, "Chief, you okay?"

After several loud thumps, he received his answer. "Yeah, Jim, I'm all right." Ellison did not let his gaze leave the suspect, but he was aware when his partner shuffled down the steps.

"Cuff him, Chief." Ellison could not keep the pride out of his voice. "Congratulations Sandburg, you got him." After the cuffs were in place, Ellison finally relaxed and leaned back against the wall.

"What about you, Jim? Are you all right?" Blair could not keep the slight tremble of fear out of his voice. From where he had been, Sandburg could not see where Ellison had landed, and had feared the worst.

"I'm okay, buddy. Just bruised a bit." Before he could say anything else, a movement on the stairs caught his attention.

~thunk~

~roll, roll~

~thunk~

~roll, roll~

One final ball bearing made its way down the rickety wooden steps to rest against the tall detective's foot. He reached down and picked it up.

"You took him out with a marble? The FBI has been after him for two years, and you catch him with marbles?"

"Actually, they're ball bearings Jim."

"Sandburg?"

"Yeah, man?"

Ellison shook his head. There were some things you just don't want to know. "Never mind."

The outside door flew open as half of Cascade's finest flew in, guns drawn, followed by two FBI agents. Their yells of warning died as they realized that the situation was under control. The uniformed officers pulled Newport outside to a waiting squad car as his rights were read.

The Major Crimes Unit stood surrounding the two men, wanting to know what had happened. Chaos ensued, as they all demanded to know what had happened.

"Sandburg, what in the..."

"Jim, are you..."

"What in the hell..."

"You got him..."

"Sandy, how on earth..."

"QUIET. Just everybody be quiet!" Sandburg found himself confronted by two very irate FBI agents. "How in the hell did you do that? We've been after him for two years, two damn years! What do you have that we don't have? Just tell me that!" Abels leaned closer to Sandburg with every word.

The rest of the group fell deathly quiet, waiting for Ellison's reaction to the verbal assault on his partner. It wasn't a long wait. Ellison stepped between them and pulled Sandburg back ever so slightly, so that he could be face to face with Abels when he spoke. His voice was soft, and the rest of the group had to lean forward to hear him.

"You want to know what he had that you don't? Well, I'll tell you." Ellison dropped the cold metal sphere into the agent's hand. "The right ammo." With a smile that couldn't quite be defined, he snagged his partner's elbow and headed him out the door, much to the chagrin of the two agents.