Progression Series 16 Sushi, Sasquatch.. and Sandburg Read online

  Summary: The title says it all...just read it!(g);

  Disclaimer: The characters depicted within this story do not belong to us, but are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount and The SciFi Channel. No money has been made from the writing of this story.

  Note from the Authors: In our Sentinel universe, the events depicted in "The Sentinel by Blair Sandburg" did not occur. Therefore, any "canonical" references that may be found in this story are related to episodes up to and including "Most Wanted."

  Dedication: This series is dedicated to friendship, for only through caring for others can we truly find a sense of peace and belonging.

  Sushi, Sasquatch...and Sandburg

  Part Sixteen of "The Progressions" Series

  by Beth Manz and Shiloh

  Part One

  "Bless you." Simon Banks leaned back in his chair and stared across at the man seated in front of his desk. "Getting a nasty cold there, aren't you, Jim?"

  Jim Ellison pulled a handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped at his nose as he nodded in answer to the captain's question. "The beginnings of one." He stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket. "And I have to get rid of it-fast. Sandburg says he's got some home remedy he wants me to try and let's just say that I'm a bit...skeptical after his last potion."

  Simon laughed lightly, recalling the "potion" Jim was referring to--the one laced with a substance containing molecular properties similar to those found in peyote. "So, you two have any new leads on Marcus Grant?"

  Jim shook his head and rubbed wearily at his eyes as he exhaled a long breath. "The man has become a master at hiding."

  "But you think he's still in the area?"

  "I know he is, sir. He's just biding his time right now, waiting for us to let down our guard."

  Jim had told Simon about the phone call they'd received from Grant...and the fact that the man now wanted to be Sandburg's "friend." It had been nearly two weeks since they'd received the call and since then there had been no other contact by Grant or any new leads on the man. But both Jim and Blair-and Simon as well-were anticipating another attempt on Grant's part to abduct the anthropologist.

  "How's Sandburg holding up under all this?"

  "He's good, Simon. I know he's still concerned. We both are. But we have to go on with our lives, and that's what we're trying to do."

  Simon glanced out toward the bullpen, but Jim's partner was nowhere to be seen. "Speaking of the kid, where is he today?"

  "He got a call from Rainier this morning. His department head asked him to come in for a meeting."

  "I thought he had the summer off."

  "He does. He thinks maybe one of the other professors backed out of his schedule and they're going to ask him to take on a class or two." Jim shrugged one shoulder. "He's not happy about it but if they ask, I'm sure he'll say yes."

  Simon nodded toward the bullpen. "I think you're about to find out," he said as he watched the arriving Sandburg weave between the desks and then make a straight line for the captain's office.

  Knocking once, Blair pushed open the door and stepped through. "Hey guys," he greeted the two men, smiling widely.

  "You look happy, Chief," Jim welcomed his partner. "I take it the meeting went well?"

  "It went great!" Blair crossed to Simon's desk, his gaze locked on the captain. "I'm going to need the next three days off, Simon, if that's okay. Friday through Sunday."

  Simon nodded. "No problem. May I ask why?"

  Blair bounced up on his toes, his smile widening. "You won't believe what Professor Aldman asked me to do!" He glanced at Jim, then turned his attention back to the captain. "He asked me to head up a Bigfoot expedition this weekend!"

  There was a moment of stunned silence, then Simon burst out laughing, the deep, hearty sound matched by Jim's own chuckles.

  "You think this is funny?" Blair ground out, the smile slipping from his face. He glared at each man in turn.

  Simon wiped at his eyes. "Sandburg, anyone who would go out into the woods to hunt for Bigfoot is off his nut."

  "I'm not hunting Bigfoot. I'm conducting a scientific study of the Bigfoot phenomenon."

  "Oh, well--if you had explained it that way in the first place, maybe...." the captain intoned sardonically, but his voice trailed off as Jim laughed again.

  "Sorry, Chief," Jim managed between laughter and sniffles, "but no matter how you explain it, it still sounds crazy."

  Blair folded his arms across his chest and stared down at Jim. "Well then, your brother must be crazy, because he's going with me."

  Jim's laughter cut off abruptly and he gaped up at Sandburg. "What?"

  "You heard me," he replied impertinently. "I called Stephen on my way over here and asked him if he wanted to come with me this weekend. He agreed right away."

  Simon's laughter increased as he took in Jim's discomfiture. "I knew you Ellisons weren't wound too tightly."

  Blair turned a smug expression in Simon's direction. "Don't laugh too loudly, Captain. Darryl's going, too."

  The captain's laughter sputtered to a stop. "What? My son, Darryl? My son is going with you?" His expression instantly became serious, skeptical. "What exactly is this trip?"

  "The three of us are going to hike and camp in a well-known Bigfoot area and try to collect physical evidence to support the existence of the creature. The theory Professor Aldman is trying to prove is the Bigfoot-Giganto Theory." Blair gestured with his hands as he spoke, clearly excited by the subject matter. "It's a very well-known theory that suggests that Bigfoot is the surviving relative of the Gigantopithecus." He paused only long enough to take in a quick breath of air, then continued, "Gigantopithecus, which in Latin means giant ape, was a giant cousin of the orangutan and is thought to be extinct. Bigfoot-Giganto theorists deal with a few issues that affect the potential linkage of modern Bigfoot reports to ancient Gigantos-"

  "Sandburg," Jim cut in, stopping him mid-explanation. "Forget this Giganto-Whatever theory. You can't be serious. The whole Bigfoot thing is a hoax and everyone knows it."

  One corner of Blair's mouth quirked up in a half smile. "Actually, most people don't believe a hoax is responsible, Jim. The observations extend so far back in time on this continent that a hoax explanation simply doesn't work." His gaze shifted to Simon, the smile increasing. "Plus, the patterns among the eyewitnesses are not demographic, they're geographic."

  "So what?" Banks countered.

  "That's important, Simon. It means that the observations aren't reported by certain types of people but rather by people who venture into certain areas." His excited gaze shifted from Simon to Jim and back again. "I'm telling you guys, this is all very legitimate."

  "Who's going to navigate this trip, Chief?" Jim asked suddenly. "The forests around here are pretty dense. You could go in somewhere and never come out again, especially the way you interpret directions."

  "That's all taken care of," Blair replied, obviously ignoring Jim's ribbing about his sense of direction. "We have a guide, a mountain man named Fritz."

  "A mountain man named Fritz!" Jim blurted out, followed by a small fit of coughing. "What kind of mountain man is named Fritz!"

  "He's French-Canadian," Blair explained.

  "I don't like this," Simon muttered, his brow creased. "Why would Rainier allow you to take two civilians out on a trip like this?"

  "The professor had another group that was scheduled to go but they had to cancel at the last minute. They all came down with food poisoning last night. Had some sort of a Bigfoot party, I guess." He glanced at Jim. "Bad chi
p dip," he muttered. "So he said as long as I could get a new crew together fast, I could take the expedition instead."

  "Aren't these trips usually conducted by the scientific community?"

  "There'll be a scientist along."

  "Who?" Simon challenged.

  "Me!" Blair practically shouted. "I am an anthropologist, Simon. And confirming the existence of Bigfoot would be a huge anthropological discovery."

  Simon pressed his lips together and glared up at Sandburg for several long seconds. "I still don't like it," he said finally.

  "Don't worry. We'll be fine!" Blair reached down, grabbed Jim's wrist and took in the time on the detective's wristwatch. "Listen, I have to run," he informed them as he released Jim's arm. "I have to pick up the equipment and get some supplies together so we can leave first thing in the morning." His gaze shifted between Jim and Simon. "I'll see you both on Monday and I'll tell you all about it." He bounced up on his toes and waggled his eyebrows at the two staring men. "Keep your fingers crossed, guys. It would be cool to actually see a Bigfoot!"

  With that, Blair turned on his heel and left the office, closing the door behind him. Both men watched in dumbfounded silence as he bounced his way across the bullpen and disappeared into the elevator, the doors closing and cutting off the view of his happy, smiling face.

  "You know, Simon," Jim began, his voice low, conspiratorial, "I don't like the sound of this at all."

  "Can't say I'm especially fond of the idea myself."

  Jim leaned forward and frowned. "The last time I camped with Stephen and Blair, they couldn't put a tent up by themselves. Stephen even hit Blair in the head with one of the poles."

  Simon shook his head, rubbing a hand against his temple. He glanced toward the now-closed elevator doors, then back at Jim. "A French-Canadian mountain man named Fritz is going to take my son, your brother and Sandburg into the deep woods of Washington state to look for Bigfoot. What does that sound like to you?"

  "A disaster waiting to happen."

  Simon stood and looked down at his detective. "We have no choice, Jim."

  "No choice," the sentinel agreed without hesitation.

  "We have to go with them."

  "We have to, sir."

  Part Two

  "You didn't have to come."

  Jim shifted where he sat in the passenger seat of the rented Blazer and glanced over at his partner, who was still grumbling beneath his breath. They were on their way to pick up Simon and Darryl, the sun just beginning to make its way over the horizon. It was clearly evident that Blair was not happy. His hands gripped the wheel fiercely, his shoulders were tight, and his jaw was clenched shut.

  Last night, as soon as he'd arrived home, Jim had informed his partner that he and Simon planned to join him on his trip. Blair had immediately told him it wasn't necessary, that they could handle the trip on their own, and that he didn't really want two people coming along who so obviously didn't believe in what he was doing.

  But Jim hadn't backed down. He didn't often bully Sandburg, but this time.... Well, he just knew the kid would need him. After all, Blair simply wasn't built for this kind of trip. He didn't have the survival skills that Jim possessed. Not to mention the heightened senses-those always came in handy on a camping trip. Jim smiled to himself--he was sure that two days from now, when they were driving home, his partner would be thanking him for giving up his weekend and going with him.

  "I went on plenty of expeditions before I ever met you and I survived all of those just fine," Blair was saying. "And," he added, "you have that cold. You shouldn't even be out."

  "My cold isn't that bad," Jim assured his partner. "Besides, I thought you'd be grateful for the extra help."

  "Oh, please!" Blair glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "You two aren't going to help. You're just going to make fun of us the whole time." He pulled to a stop in front of Simon's house and shoved the gearshift into park. Looking over, he pointed an accusing finger at Jim and glared at him over the top of his glasses. "I'm telling you, man, this trip is sponsored by the university. I have certain things I have to get done and you two had better not make it impossible me for to accomplish those things."

  Jim held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm not going to mess with your scientific endeavors, Chief. I know you're serious."

  Blair narrowed his eyes, seeming to study Jim, trying to decide if he was sincere. "Okay," he relented at last. "But this is my trip, Jim. I drive the car. I lead the group."

  "You're in charge, Chief. I got it."

  "Okay," Blair said again, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

  /

  /

  /

  Blair pushed out his door as Simon and Darryl came out of the house, both carrying backpacks. Opening the hatch, Sandburg tossed in their gear, adding it to his and Jim's bags and the university equipment supplied to him by Professor Aldman.

  "You know where you're going?" Simon asked as soon as Blair pulled away from the curb in front of his house.

  "Yeah, I'm going to pick up Stephen," Blair retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm. He knew Simon and Jim were only coming on this trip because they didn't think he, Darryl and Stephen could handle it on their own. That they expected to have to step in at some point and take over, saving them from whatever horrible fate awaited them in the dark, scary woods of Washington. And he resented it.

  "You know what I meant, Sandburg," Simon bit out.

  Blair's gaze shifted momentarily to the rearview mirror, locking on Simon's son. "Darryl? You chart out our course?"

  "Just like you asked me to." Darryl held up a group of papers he'd pulled from his bag before stowing it in back. "Went on-line last night and mapped it all out."

  Simon glanced at his son beside him, clearly surprised. "You can get maps on-line?"

  Darryl rolled his eyes. "Not just maps, Dad. Directions. This stuff not only tells us where we want to go but gives the best possible route to get there." He glanced at Blair. "Once we're on the freeway, I'll direct you road by road."

  "When we pick up Stephen," Blair added, "I want you and Jim to switch places."

  "What?" Jim blurted out from beside him. "I have to sit in back?"

  Blair nodded, working hard to keep from smiling. "Darryl is our navigator. The navigator sits up front." He knew Jim hated sitting in back. He couldn't control things from in back and Blair knew that no matter what Jim said, that's what he wanted to do. It had begun early that morning. Jim had told Blair the best way to pack the truck, had offered more than once to drive, had even tried to talk him out of using the guide Aldman had arranged, saying he could easily lead them wherever they needed to go.

  Not this time, man.

  Pulling to a smooth stop in front of Stephen's house, he exited the vehicle and tossed the younger Ellison's gear in back, unable to miss the momentary look of surprise that crossed Stephen's features as he took in his older brother's presence.

  "He and Simon barged in at the last minute," Blair whispered to the younger Ellison as he watched his partner silently get out of the truck and slide into the back seat. Blair knew it would be a tight fit in the back with Jim, Simon and Stephen all scrunched together. But the only one he felt sorry for was Stephen, who had somehow been voted as the man to sit in the middle.

  "Did you bring your fishing hat?" Stephen asked as soon as Blair had pulled into traffic. Despite the two larger men pressing in on each side of him, Stephen seemed upbeat, clearly happy to be going along on this trip.

  "I never go near a stream without that hat, Stephen. We wouldn't eat without it!"

  "Speaking of eating," Simon drawled out. "What are Sasquatches supposed to eat?"

  "Small, nosy anthropologists who insist on invading their territory," Jim griped under his breath, clearly not happy with the new seating arrangement.

  "So, you do believe they exist," Blair took advantage of the remark, unable to resist teasing Jim a bit.

  "I didn't say I believe they exis
t, Sandburg. I'm just saying that if they do, you'll be the one to stumble into a nest of them. You'd just better hope they aren't carnivorous."

  "Relax, man! Pine cones and nuts--that's their diet."

  "They're vegetarians, Dad," Darryl added for his father's benefit.

  The big man snorted disdainfully. "Thank you, Son. That makes me feel so much better."

  Nearly two hours later, Blair pulled the Blazer into a clearing that stretched out before a dilapidated building. The house-if one could call it a house-wasn't much larger than a shed. The place looked like a deserted shambles, but Blair could see an expensive satellite dish in back and a top-of-the-line sports utility vehicle parked proudly out front. Even as he pushed out his door, a man exited the small building and ambled out to the group of men.

  Fritz Carlyle was exactly as Professor Aldman had described him-long, gray-streaked beard, bad teeth, tattered old clothes. But appearances aside, he was considered an expert on the Bigfoot phenomenon, maintaining one of the best and most respected Web sites regarding the creature.

  "You Dr. Sandburg?" the man asked, his gaze narrowing slightly as he stared at him.

  Blair extended a hand. "Yes, I am."

  Fritz shook his hand, the grip strong, sure. "Aldman said you were coming up with two men. Got yourself a couple of tagalongs, I see." He nodded toward Simon and Jim.

  Blair quirked an eyebrow, wondering how the man knew which two of the four men with him were the last minute add-ons. "Sorry," he offered. "Is that going to be a problem?"

  "No problem. It's just...they look like doubters to me." He looked at Simon and Jim again. "You boys doubters?" he called out suddenly.

  Blair bit his lip to keep from laughing as Jim and Simon exchanged uncomfortable glances and shifted a bit where they stood. "We're, uh, we're here to help carry the gear," Jim said at last when he realized that Fritz was waiting for an answer.

  Fritz nodded knowingly. "Yep, doubters. Can spot 'em a mile off." He turned his attention back to Blair. "Well, Doc, better get moving if we're going to make the first campsite by nightfall."

  /

  /

  /

  Jim fell to the back of the line, bringing up the rear of the small procession, happy to be able to enjoy the relative quiet of the woods surrounding him. He'd tried to maintain an ongoing conversation with Simon, but the scratchiness in his throat and the intermittent stuffiness in his ears made talking and listening difficult. So he'd apologized to his captain and dropped back a few steps, content to enjoy the warm day and the pristine wilderness around him.