By JudyL

September 20, 2003

I started this one in June. I got stumped a little over half way through and then inspiration struck and I finished it this morning.

Disclaimer: Not mine, never mine, just like to borrow them. Will return eventually. Maybe.

He watched the room through the scope. The mark should be entering the 8^th floor apartment in the building across the street any moment. He cocked the rifle and settled it firmly against his shoulder. The gravel rooftop was uncomfortable, but this would be done soon.

The door to the apartment opened and a forty-something woman walked in. She was attractive, not his type, but still good looking. He took a deep, calming breath and focused through the scope.

The laser site pinpointed her heart and he squeezed the trigger. The woman fell.

He pushed a dark curly lock back behind his ear and rolled into a sitting position. He quickly disassembled the rifle and placed it into his toolbox. The plastic sheet he'd been laying on was carefully folded and also stored in the toolbox.

The young man stood, pulled a cap that read Bob's A/C down firmly over his long curls and lifted the toolbox. He opened the access door to the roof and listened carefully before starting down the stairs. Once he passed the camera focused on the roof door, he removed the jury-rigged arm that held a photo of the door.

At the next landing, he took hold of a long piece of string attached to the photo blocking the camera aimed at this door. Holding onto the string he stepped through the door, yanked the string to dislodge the picture and then after counting to twenty, opened the door and continued down the stairs. He started to whistle at the next landing.

He exited the building, climbed into a white van with Bob's A/C painted on the side and drove away. The license plates on the van were covered in mud and unreadable. He drove to a storage building several miles away and pulled the van into one of the units. A late model sedan waited for him. He stripped off the overalls and cap and left everything in the van. It would be taken care of later.

The keys to the sedan were in the ignition. He backed out of the storage unit, stopped to lock it back up, then drove away. He watched closely for a tail, but did not see anyone.

He parked in front of a low budget apartment building and left the keys in the car. It would also be taken care of. He sighed as he entered the building.

This elevator was slower than the one at the loft. And had more floors to cover. Blair Sandburg ran both hands through his hair and waited for the doors to open on the 5^th floor. He pulled out the key to his apartment and wondered again how long he'd have to keep this up.

The door to the apartment opened before he could put the key in the lock. Blair acknowledged his partner, Jim Ellison with a grunt and entered the one room flat.

Jim watched as his partner, Detective Blair Sandburg retrieved a beer from the refrigerator and plopped down on the couch. He still hadn't opened the bottle when Ellison joined him.

"Is she okay?" Blair finally asked, fingering the condensation on the beer bottle.

Jim nodded. "Yes, the vest worked fine. The press will be reporting the assassination in the evening news."

"Good." Blair leaned back and tried to relax. "I hope this works. I don't think I can do that again."

The Sentinel assessed his Guide. Dark circles under his eyes told of restless nights with little sleep. The furrow on his forehead had been present far too long. And Jim couldn't remember hearing Blair laugh since this case started.

"I should have been the one to go under," Jim said for the hundredth time.

Blair sighed and sat up to look his friend in the eye. "No, Jim. I'll be okay, I mean, it's not like I'm really killing some innocent person." He closed his eyes. Sure, I'm having nightmares about pulling the trigger and really killing someone accidentally, but that's neither here nor there. "You know why it had to be me."

Jim nodded and took a swig of his beer. The plan was to lure the Spelletti family into hiring a hot new assassin called Darwin. The Family had lost their own assassin a few months ago in a police firefight. Blair had gone under cover as Darwin, taking out advertisements and responding to a few well-planned, high profile hits. Because there was no way the Spelletti's would miss a wire, Jim had to act as backup.

"I still don't like it."

Blair grinned and patted his partner on the knee. "I know. You'd think after four clean hits in less than a month that they'd be ready to talk to me."

Jim grunted. If the plan worked, Blair would be stuck right in the middle of one of the largest crime families on the West Coast. He'd have to be on his "best" behavior until the Family started to trust him. Ellison knew and had made sure Blair knew what that might mean. He might be required to kill to satisfy the Family.

"We've done as much as we can, Jim. The rumor mill should be well stocked by now. We can only hope everything goes smoothly."

~~~~~~~~

Three days later the ad they were waiting for appeared in the paper.

Blair sat at the bar nursing a virgin Bloody Mary. He smiled slightly at the barkeep as Rafe swiped the counter with a clean cloth. The other officer nodded as he continued down the bar to refill another customer's drink.

Sandburg fingered the cuff of his dark blue shirt. The clothes were a high quality Italian brand. The black slacks and jacket fit Blair well, giving him an air of power. He wore a single sapphire stud in his recently repierced left ear and had his long curls tamed back into a ponytail.

Outwardly, he seemed calm. Blair had practiced the "look" with Jim, until only the Sentinel could tell how fast his heart was pounding. Of course, Blair had always been good at obfuscating, but this would require a long-term commitment. It would not be easy.

The bartender came back. "Would you like me to refresh that for you?" Rafe asked, giving the signal that their mark would soon be walking in the door.

"No, thank you," he said settling into his undercover persona.

Darwin turned his attention to the TV above the bar, keeping his peripheral vision on the door. He saw Martin Spelletti walk in and take a look around. Spelletti saw him and walked over to take a seat on the stool next to him.

Spelletti ordered a gin and tonic and looked up at the game on the TV. "I always wondered if God really intended for people to become so different. I mean look at basketball players, almost all of them are over six five. Why would a human need to be so tall? It's not just to play basketball."

Darwin tilted his head, considering the question. "Perhaps it's His way of searching for the perfect human being."

Martin met Darwin's eyes. "What's wrong with the average human being? Why create people of sizes all across the spectrum?"

"Maybe the perfect human has nothing to do with size. Maybe it's about finding the smartest or the most compassionate."

Spelletti held the dark blue gaze for a moment then turned back to the TV. "I guess I prefer to think we make our own path. The idea that God or something is directing how we evolve does not appeal to me."

Darwin shrugged. "Either way, it's the survival of the fittest."

Spelletti looked at him. "I have some people I'd like to introduce you to."

"Whenever you're ready."

"The car is waiting out front." Martin stood. He was just a few inches taller than the assassin-for-hire but several years younger. He motioned for Darwin to lead.

Spelletti watched the man called Darwin move out to the car. He walked confidently with the grace of an athlete. His blue eyes had revealed intelligence and cunning and even compassion. Martin shook his head. This Darwin was a complicated creature. Better to let his father deal with him.

The guard at the car asked Darwin if he would mind being checked for weapons.

Darwin raised an amused eyebrow. "Go ahead, but I never carry when I'm being interviewed. It doesn't convey much in the way of trust."

The guard looked impressed, but patted him down anyway. Once that was done, he opened the door and let Darwin in. "Enjoy your ride, sir."

"Thank you," Darwin replied. These people are nothing if not polite. He watched Martin climb in beside him and settled in for the ride.

***

Jim snorted at Blair's response. Trust, yeah right. With the Spellettis trust was a four-letter word. Might as well trust a rattlesnake not to bite you. He watched the silver sedan pull out and set to follow it. Blair's heartbeat remained surprisingly calm. I hope you're not getting too confident, kid. He wasn't too concerned about losing the car. They were most likely heading to the Spelletti's place just north of Cascade. Besides, he could hear Blair's heartbeat for miles. They'd done the tests.

Ellison dialed his cell phone.

"Banks."

"We're on our way. Martin Spelletti met Blair at the bar."

"Keep on him."

"Of course. I'll check in when I know something." He hung up and concentrated on his Guide's heartbeat.

***

Darwin followed Martin into a well-stocked library. A tall, distinguished man in his early sixties stood from behind a desk and moved out to greet them.

"Mr. Darwin," he said, extending his hand.

"Mr. Spelletti," Darwin replied, shaking the offered hand. "It's just Darwin."

The older man smiled wryly. "All right. And you call me Francis." He turned and gestured to the bar on one side of the room. Crystal glasses and a variety of alcohol lined the counter. "Would you care for a drink?"

"No, thank you." Darwin looked around the room, noting the fine art, the rare volumes and the quality furniture. Not that you'd expect anything less from a family like the Spelletti's. "You have a very nice home, Francis."

"Yes, I find it quite comfortable, Darwin." He observed the young man for a moment. Darwin stood calmly with his hands clasped in front of him, almost at parade rest. His eyes roamed the room with curiosity and maybe a little admiration. There were some fine pieces in this room.

"If you don't mind my saying so, you seem a little young to be so accomplished."

Darwin tilted his head, acknowledging the question, but not giving any other response.

Francis chuckled. "Very well then, age really has nothing to do with how well you do your job."

A grin tugged at Darwin's lips. "I understand how difficult it can be to hire someone new. The uncertainties, will he be trustworthy? Will he perform up to standard? Believe me, Francis, when I say I would not have come if I did not think we could work together."

The elder Spelletti considered the man in front of him. Well spoken, educated, intelligent. What else though? Something was niggling at his instincts. "Perhaps we could step out to my target range for a few rounds."

"Whatever you wish, sir," Darwin replied. He followed Francis Spelletti out a different door than the one he'd come in. Martin and two guards followed them. Darwin noted the surveillance cameras at each door and covering all angles within each room and hall. Some cameras were obvious, while others were subtly disguised. This place was a fortress.

They reached a long room similar to the target range the CPD had, but more elegantly appointed. Targets hung at various distances down the room. Francis gestured to a rack of guns ranging from pistols to high power rifles.

"Please, take your pick."

Darwin examined the weapons on the table. Some of them were obviously unusable. Others appeared fine, but on closer inspection had a slight flaw. Darwin finally settled on a small caliber pistol that while not the best choice for assassination was the "best" of the weapons available. He smiled knowingly at Francis Spelletti and was rewarded with a respectful nod.

Darwin checked the mag in the pistol. It was full. He stepped up to the first target bay, took careful aim and fired. He moved calmly toward the next bay, then suddenly snapped the gun around the wall and fired two quick shots at the target. One shot hit the target in the second bay, the third shot hit the target in the third bay. Darwin grinned to himself.

The targets in the fourth and fifth bays were all the way at the end. A fan blew across the lane rustling the papers. Darwin easily hit both targets, then turned and offered the gun to Francis.

Martin had the targets brought to them and admired the precision of Darwin's shots. All of them had fallen within the bull's eye or the next ring. He met his father's gaze and nodded slightly.

"Quite impressive, Darwin."

"It's what I do, Francis. I would like to say that although I'm not against going exclusive, I do have a few repeat customers. An exclusive contract would have to be, let's just say, lucrative."

Francis laughed out loud. Martin smiled cautiously. "I like a man who is not afraid to say what he wants, Darwin," Francis Spelletti said, clapping Darwin on the back. "I think we can come to some arrangement that you will find lucrative."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim pretended to weed the flowerbed. As he knelt, poking at the soil with a spade, he focused his hearing on Blair's voice two blocks away. Ellison had been living in this rent house for the last three months. It was close enough to the Spelletti residence that he could hear Blair and respond to an SOS if needed.

It had been one hell of a long assignment.

So far, due only to the fact that Jim was able to overhear the assassination plots, they had managed to keep Blair's cover intact and prevent two assassinations.

Once again, Blair's quick mind had come up with a way to warn Jim from a distance so that he could "overhear" the plans and save Sandburg from becoming a murderer.

One of Darwin's personality quirks included the blue sapphire earring and a gold cross pendant that he always wore. Only the cross was actually a dog whistle. And although it pained the Sentinel to have to answer to a dog whistle, he was only too glad that it worked.

It would have been impossible for Jim to monitor the Spelletti house twenty-four seven and just as impossible for Blair to call him before his briefings. Plus it was unlikely that Blair would receive any notice before he was called in front of Francis Spelletti to receive his instructions.

So, the dog whistle it was. And now, Jim pretended to be working in his garden as he listened to his partner's new boss giving him the order to kill someone else.

The first two "victims" of the assassin called Darwin were in protective custody out of state. The media had reported their deaths.

Now a third target was being assigned. Only this time it was personal and maybe, just maybe, they could take Spelletti down and end this charade. And Jim could get his partner back.

***

"I don't know about this, Francis," Darwin said frowning and shaking his head. "I work alone. That's why I haven't been caught."

"You work for me, Darwin," the elder Spelletti said harshly. "I give you a job and you do it how I want it done."

Darwin stared into the brown eyes of his employer weighing the implied threat with the anger he saw there. "I just don't understand why you want to be there if I'm still going to be the one doing the job."

Francis stood and stomped around to the front of the desk. He bent forward placing his hands on the arms of Darwin's chair and leaned in close to his face. "It's about justice and satisfaction. That's all you need to know." He straightened and collected himself with a deep breath. Francis went back to the chair behind the desk and slumped into it.

"I am sorry, Darwin. You have proven yourself over the last few months. I have no right to take my anger out on you." He met the younger man's eyes. Darwin saw him make the decision to trust him. "This mark, he is responsible for the death of my son's family." Francis glanced at Martin who stood by the door.

Darwin turned quickly and saw pain flit across Martin Spelletti's face. The young mobster looked down, masking his emotions.

"Tirone ordered a hit on Martin last year. His man wasn't as careful as you are. He didn't make sure of his target's whereabouts or that no innocent lives would be at risk. Martin's wife and little daughter took Martin’s car to go to a doctor's appointment. They were found by the highway patrol, the car had been run off the road."

Darwin closed his eyes, when he opened them again compassion had darkened the blue. "I am so sorry, Martin. I didn't know. But why you, Francis? Why not Martin?"

Martin moved further into the room. "I don't need to see him die. It's enough for me to know he's rotting in hell." He looked at his father. "I'd actually rather have the man who ran them off the road."

Francis Spelletti waved a hand at Martin. "That has already been taken care of. I want the man responsible for this. I want to see him breathe his last. It is my right."

Darwin nodded sympathetically. "Very well. Let me get things ready and I'll let you know when and where. Do you want him to know?"

"Yes," came the deathly quiet reply.

The assassin nodded and left the room.

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

Blair walked outside to the garden for some fresh air. He liked Martin and Francis even though they had ordered him to murder three people. They had a loyalty, and a sense of honor very similar to the Major Crimes unit. Except for the illegal parts of course.

"Okay, Jim, I hope you got all that. I'm really ready to get this over with and go home."

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

Two blocks away Ellison agreed heartily with his friend and stood to call his Captain and set up what would hopefully be their last assassination.

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

Darwin climbed into the limo and took the seat across from Francis Spelletti. "All right. Our sources have Tirone checking his interests down by the docks tonight. He's arrogant enough to think he's safe on his own turf."

Francis rolled his eyes. "Go on."

The assassin nodded. "Our men have already hit the surrounding area and it's clear of Tirone's people. He only has two guards with him inside the building. We should go in soon or we'll miss the opportunity."

Spelletti grinned ferociously and nodded. "Let's go, Darwin. My son's family is waiting for justice."

Darwin opened the door and waited for Mr. Spelletti to exit before leading him through the side door to Tirone's warehouse complex. The building was a series of smaller warehouses all contained within a larger one. Darwin pulled his 9mm automatic out of its underarm holster, checked the mag and released the safety. He then tilted his head toward the other end of the hall to indicate the direction and started walking.

Spelletti followed quietly letting Darwin check each hallway before they passed. They could just make out the sound of a voice down the hall. Darwin stopped in front of a door and nodded, catching Francis' eye.

The older man's feral grin forced Darwin to suppress a shudder. He readied his weapon and opened the door. Darwin quickly took in the view, aimed at the guard on the right and fired. The man went down. The 9mm tracked over to the other guard as he raised his own weapon. Darwin fired and the second guard went down.

Darwin leveled his weapon on the last man. Angelo Tirone reached for his own gun but stopped as he saw the end of Darwin's 9mm aimed his way. Tirone raised his hands.

"Who are you? What do you want?" he demanded shakily.

Francis stepped from behind Darwin, a patronizing smile on his face. "Now, now, Angelo. Do you not recognize your old friend? It hasn't been that long since you came to my daughter's and granddaughter's funeral."

Tirone blanched. "Now Francis, you know that was a mistake. The matter's been handled." He shrugged and offered a weak smile. "Can't we let by-gones by by-gones?"

Spelletti frowned. His voice was hard as he spoke. "No. We cannot. You are responsible for their deaths. The assassin you hired was only a tool. Ultimately you are the one accountable for his mistakes. You will be the one to pay." Francis waved a hand at Darwin. "Go ahead, Darwin. Make it quick, I have business to attend to."

Darwin focused on his target and began to pull the trigger.

"FREEZE! CASCADE POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"

Everything happened quickly. Dozens of police officers popped up from behind the crates in the warehouse. A few were positioned on top of the crates. The sound of weapons cocking surrounded the three men.

Darwin turned toward the voice that had shouted "freeze" and fired automatically. The officer fell backwards to the floor and didn't move. Multiple gunshots rang out and Darwin staggered back.

He looked down and saw a spray of red on his suit. He turned slightly to look at his employer.

Francis Spelletti watched as Darwin's eyes rolled up and the young man fell to his knees and then forward, ending up face down on the floor.

"Put your hands in the air!" Jim Ellison shouted holding his still smoking gun on Spelletti. Brown and Rafe had Tirone covered.

The mobsters both surrendered without further resistance and were arrested. Angelo Tirone for the murder of Martin Spelletti's wife and daughter and Francis Spelletti for the attempted murder of Angelo Tirone.

Spelletti turned as he was being led through the door. He nodded at Darwin who was still on the floor. "Is he dead?"

Ellison toed the body. "Yeah."

Francis lowered his head and Jim could just barely hear his response. "Such a shame. He had so much potential."

Jim looked around at the bodies littering the floor and shook his head. His attention snapped back to the door as Joel came through and closed it.

"It's all clear, gentlemen," the big captain said his eyes glued to the form of Blair Sandburg on the floor.

At those words the two mob guards, the cop Darwin had shot and Darwin himself groaned in unison and started to move.

Jim knelt down and helped Blair into a sitting position.

"Damn, that hurt, Jim," Blair said, rubbing the bruised area on his chest where the stun pellet had hit him.

"Sorry, Chief. Just be glad it wasn't the real thing."

"Yeah, yeah." Blair looked around. "Hey, you guys all right?" he asked his three victims.

They all nodded with grimaces much like his own. Although his gun had been loaded with blanks, the other men had to make it seem real, so had a few bruises from their falls.

Simon Banks joined them as Jim gave Blair a hand to his feet. The captain lit his cigar and smiled as he took a puff. "Good job, Sandburg. Nice bit of undercover work there. Two mob bosses off the street for the price of one. Yep, very nice work, Detective."

He slapped Blair on the back, sending the smaller man staggering a few steps forward.

Sandburg grimaced again. "Gee, thanks, Simon," he said a little sarcasm sneaking into his voice. "Think I can go home now?"

Simon regarded him compassionately. "Not just yet, son. We have to make sure no one suspects anything. You and Ellison can stay at one of the safe houses for a few more days, until everything settles down."

"Ah, man! I was so looking forward to sleeping in my own bed," Blair complained turning pleading eyes on his partner.

One corner of Jim's mouth lifted in a grin. "You heard the man, Darwin. Safe house it is."

"Ah, Jim. Don't call me that anymore, okay?"

Ellison noted the look of disgust on Blair's face and nodded. "Sorry, Chief. Guess we could have picked a different name, but it helped that you were already used to hearing it."

Blair shrugged. "That's okay, Jim. It was sort of poetic, you know, the survival of the fittest. In this case, it just happened to be the good guys."

"Thank goodness for that," Joel interrupted. "If you guys are ready, I can take you to the safe house. We've got you a change of clothes there already, Blair."

"Cool! Let's go." He grabbed Joel's arm and they headed for the door. "Think we can get something to eat on the way? I have had enough fine dining for one lifetime, believe you me."

Joel chuckled. "Sure thing, Blair. I don't suppose you're going to sink to Wonderburger levels though?"

"Well… Naw, just something in a take out bag, man. What do you say to Chinese, Jim? Jim?" Blair turned and saw the Sentinel still standing where he'd left him. The Guide didn't think his Sentinel was zoned, the posture was wrong, but something certainly had the man's attention.

Sandburg grinned evilly and lifted the cross pendant to his lips.

Jim slapped his hands to his ears, his head snapped around to locate the source of the piercing whistle. "Sandburg!" He growled stomping over to his Guide. Jim grabbed the cross and pulled it up, slowing his motions a bit to keep from tangling the chain in Blair's hair.

"Loose the whistle, Pavlov," Ellison said with a glare.

Blair held his hand out to take the cross back. "Ah, come on, Jim. You've got to admit it's a great way to get your attention."

The Sentinel clutched the whistle tighter in his hand and tried to bore a hole through his partner with his eyes. "No. I. Don't."

Blair took a step back and glanced at Joel. "Easy, big guy. Uh, Joel, where's the nearest Wonderburger?"

Joel chuckled and led his friends in search of something to soothe the savage Sentinel.

The end.

Soothe the author, please let me know what you think. Judy

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