Blair sat at the conference table nearly getting a headache as he watched the various alpha males all trying to establish dominance. It was like having a dozen male wolves all pissing to mark territory, but the problem was that all these male wolves were in the same small room, and Blair was getting a headache from the smell of metaphoric piss.

Jim's jaw muscle twitched again at the FBI agents as he thumped the map in the middle of the table with his thumb.

"Any suspect has multiple escape routes," Jim said in a tight, controlled and barely human growl.

"This is the best vantage to watch the drop-off point without risking being seen. We'll have agents at every escape route," the older of the two agents insisted, and from the way his lips tightened to a thin line, Blair guessed that the man wasn't far behind Jim in sheer frustration. The second agent leaned back in her chair and just glared at Jim.

"They're too far away."

"If we get any closer we're going to scare the kidnappers away," the second agent responded quickly.

"I'll be a lot happier with being that far away if we actually put money in the drop," Jim now stood up and crossed his arms. "If we lose the kidnappers, they're going to be left with a bag full of newspapers and one hell of a bad attitude. I understand not requisitioning real funds for this, but since we don't have funds we need to make sure that there's no chance of the kidnappers walking away from this drop." Jim struggled to make his point through his anger, Blair could see that in every muscle of Jim's body. He gave Jim credit for making it this far without cursing someone out.

"The girl is probably dead *now*," the agent pointed out and Jim's jaw muscle twitched again. Blair could imagine just how much self-control Jim using to keep from hitting the man. Now Bets had a different approach. She was just looking at the agent like he was some sort of bug that had crawled in the room and gone belly up and died with its legs kicking in the air. The agent didn't seem particularly impressed with either of them.

Look, you people are part of a community-based program; I appreciate the fact that this kind of unit works when you're dealing with college pranks and local crime. However, this is a major crime and your people have more experience in dealing with vandalism and drunk college students passing out in the road than any real crime."

The agent directed his words towards Roth, who sat at the end of the table frowning. Blair was just happy that no one considered him alpha dog enough to actually attack because it was getting a little tense.

Even Blair was having trouble telling who backed who. The alliances were shifting fast with Bets occasionally siding with Jim against the FBI agent, leaving Roth spluttering. Other times, Bets seemed to side more with Roth, especially when the agent started attacking the unit. And right now Bets was clearly siding with Roth, physically sliding her chair closer to the Captain as she scowled at the two agents. Jim opened his mouth to continue his attack, and Bets sent her death glare over to him.

Jim sat back and clenched his teeth while Blair just tried focusing on the ugly pattern of green and black dots on the carpeting. Blair had thought it was uncomfortable back in Cascade when it was the feds against the department, but this department versus department versus feds was even *more* fun. Hell he could get a whole slew of dissertations out of the social behavior he was observing in this room.

Roth was the next one to break the silence. "This program has worked for a long time, and we deal with homicides, rapes and narcotics as well as those drunken college boys and vandalism. So don't go talking about my people when you haven't seen our stats. We have some of the best statistics in the unit."

"I assume you mean *after* you had three of your officers removed for accepting bribes and illegal activities." The older agent's sarcastic and snide tone made his opinion of the units entirely clear. Now it was time for Roth to clench his job tightly enough that the jaw muscle popped. Blair figured that in this one room alone, there was at least $5,000 worth of dental repairs to be had. Once again Jim leapt into the battle.

"None of this is getting us anywhere with this. I'm telling you right now I've seen dozens of drops, and that Parks Service building is not a good vantage point," Jim interrupted the pissing contest. Or rather he shifted the pissing contest back to the original source of the piss, which was the kidnapping case they were all trying to work together.

"And I'm telling you we're not getting any closer than that," the older agents insisted darkly. Blair shot a curious glance over to Jim, and Blair recognized that expression all too well. The great Sentinel of Phoenix was not going to let this drop. Jim pushed his chair back as he stood.

"If you're not interested in my expertise than I really don't know what I'm doing here," Jim snapped as he started towards the door, and Blair quickly stood to follow despite the incredulous looks of both Roth and Bets. Jim was the only one not surprised as he held the door open for Blair before slamming it soundly. Of course, why should Jim be surprised? Only Jim knew that Blair was his guide. Blair realized that no matter how much he loved being a cop in this department, being a cop didn't define who he was. It didn't define him any more than being an anthropologist had defined him. The fact is his first job would always be Jim's guide.

"Chief, if they keep their agents that far away, there is not going to be time to respond when something blows up in their face."

"Oh man, I assume we're assuming that something is going to blow up in their face?"

"Doesn't it always?"

"There is that," Blair admitted

"Well I'm not about to let a young woman die because that man has his head so far up his ass he can't listen to good advice," Jim snapped as they got in the elevator. Blair couldn't argue with that logic.

"So what are we going to do?"

"This isn't a "we" thing, Junior. If something goes wrong, we don't have Simon to cover our asses. If something goes wrong, this could ruin our careers. So before you just say 'yes,' you need to think about what you've built here." Jim pressed the button and then turned toward Blair with a serious expression. Blair looked up at his partner's face and opened his mouth immediately to protest the idea that he would let Jim do this alone.

"I'm serious, Chief. Think this through."

"Man, there are days that you really are as thick as a brick wall," Blair protested as he crossed his arms over his chest. "What I've built here doesn't mean anything compared to my job as your guide. So if you're going to do something to get your ass fired, I'm going to be right there next to you."

"Chief, are you sure about this?" Jim asked seriously.

"Oh yeah, absolutely."

"Glad to have you on board then." Jim flashed a quick smile and slapped Blair on the arm. "So Roth and Bets can work the kidnapping angle and give support to the fibbies, the feds can handle the money drop, and we'll be the one to break the case open," Jim announced confidently just before the elevator doors opened.

"Just like old times," Blair quipped as he followed Jim down the hall to the squad room.

"Yeah Darwin?" Jim answered without moving; he had his eyes focused firmly on the chipped blue trash can in which an agent in plainclothes had just placed a stack of newspapers inside a briefcase inside a black trash bag.

"Isn't that Kendra's father?" Blair asked as he nodded toward a man pacing just this side of the park's restroom. Blair watched as the thin nervous man snatched off his glasses and rubbed his hand across his face before shoving his glasses back on impatiently.

"Fuck," Jim swore.

"Yeah." The kidnappers had insisted that the father not be near -- a request neither Jim nor the FBI could figure out. Now the man paced nervously, looking one pocket protector short of complete geekdom. Blair had trouble seeing this nerd as the father of the fuchsia-haired and pierced kidnap victim.

"Shit. The fibbies don't seem to have spotted him," Jim swore again, and Blair didn't remember Jim swearing so much back in Cascade.

"Have our guys spotted them?" Blair asked.

"Nope, no one." Jim's voice revealed his frustration. Blair really couldn't blame Jim since he felt the same. Since they were stationed on top of the tall stone building that stood next to the duck pond, they couldn't exactly radio their guys. Of course stationed might be the wrong word considering they had snuck up here before the FBI set up a perimeter. Radioing would involve Roth finding out that two of his detectives had refused a direct order and were camped yards away from the pickup site. Blair was all for avoiding that unless, like Jim had predicted, the drop went bad. Then Jim and Blair could spring into action and their insubordination would be cheerfully forgotten.

Even though Blair had gone behind Simon's back more times than he cared to remember, going behind Roth's back made him feel slightly nauseous -- especially when he remembered all those nights Roth had spent with him down at the firing range. Blair opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it again. Jim was right about the FBI mishandling the case, and it was a little late to argue now anyway.

Various FBI agents wandered the park in the brown uniforms of park maintenance workers or the Phoenix Suns T-shirts of locals out for a day of feeding the ducks.

Bets and Jeff and Russo were at the park's north entrance coordinating the police cruisers that were hiding in the local parking lots ready to catch anyone who got past the FBI.

Jim and Blair lay unobserved on the top of the building ready to jump in if needed. They were close enough to simply grab anyone getting near the trash can, triggering a lockdown of the entire park.

And now Kendra's father darted away from the bathroom building toward the trash can. Oh yeah, Blair feared there were too many cooks in the kitchen for this to end well. Before Kendra's father reached the trash can, the agent who had dismissed Jim's suggestions came trotting across the park lawn.

Just as the agent was pulling the father away, Blair heard the whine of distant dirt bikes growing louder. Blair slipped his hand onto Jim's back to anchor his Sentinel as the high-pitched sound increased dramatically. Over a dozen dirt bikes came around a pile of huge boulders that separated the main park from the trail that led up the mountain.

The agent started running back toward the FBI base in the distant park service building, towing a clearly protesting father with him. The dirt bikes left the trail and now darted across the green grass of the park straight at the trash can.

Blair could feel his adrenaline flow. God, there were too many of them, and no one had equipment to chase them up the mountain. And the helicopter would never be able to track so many people. Blair watched in horror as nearly 20 bikes flowed around the trash can in a huge melee and the roar of revving engines. It took Blair a second to realize that the helmeted figures were using the trash can as a marker. The riders circled the can and then raced back towards the mountain trail.

One rider turned too sharply and slid to the ground, his bike careening into the paths of two other bikes, and those riders went down too. Blair pushed himself up on his elbows, but Jim's hand on his arm kept them still.

"Wait for it," Jim said softly, his eyes still focused on the can. Two of the three fallen bikers had gotten back up and rejoined the race.

Suddenly Jim surged forward. "Stay here. Call for backup, green bike." Jim yelled as he slipped over the side of the roof and dropped to the dumpster below with a metallic thud.

Blair scrambled to pull his radio from his belt as he followed. "Ransom taken. Green bike. Black helmet. Westbound toward the mountain," Blair yelled into the device, ignoring the confused and angry voices that came back to them from the other end.

Once on the ground Blair ran toward the fleeing bikers, thanking God that the pack had to pass him on their way back to the mountain. Bikes parted and dodged as Jim charged toward the green bike, but the rider reversed direction to avoid him. Blair was only vaguely aware of yelling voices and agents with drawn guns hurrying toward them.

Rather than try to target the green bike, Blair went for a domino effect as he grabbed the jacket of a random rider, pulling him down to the grassy ground. The motley bike with its front fender painted red and black with the rest in primer gray spun out of control and took out a second bike. Blair repeated the maneuver with a black bike, and now a half dozen riders went down as the field became an obstacle course. The man on the green bike tried to dodge north. The detour allowed Jim to reach out and neatly pick the figure right off the bike.

"What the fuck is your problem, dude?" an angry voice demanded. Blair turned around just in time to see the punch aimed at his face. Blair was saved from further pummeling as armed agents started yelling for everyone to get to the ground. Since Blair was already lying on the ground, he just pulled his badge as the agents came up.

"Oh fuck. Dude, I hit a cop," the one guy complained as he went to his stomach with his hands above his head. "That's like entrapment or something. You fucking hit me first," the kid complained as the agent started handcuffing him. Blair couldn't actually argue with that logic. He had hit first, but the suspect from the green bike was face down in the grass so the black eye didn't really matter.

"... interference in a federal investigation. I have half a mind to file federal charges," the lead FBI agent hissed softly enough that the cameras on the other side of the police line couldn't pick up the argument. But Blair had no doubt that the man meant what he said.

"Now wait one minute!" Roth interrupted. "Their actions were unforgivable, and they will both face disciplinary action, but they will receive credit for arresting Kendra Rence for trying to extort money from her own father."

"There is *no* way..." the agent began.

"Ellison grabbed her, he and his partner get the arrest." Roth crossed his arms over his chest and Blair watched as the dominance displays began again. This time Jim clearly took himself out of the running as he leaned against a tree managing to look frustrated and sheepish at the same time. Jeff looked from one face to another and Bets was actually reading something she'd previously written in her small notepad. That left Roth and the agent staring at one another in a silent battle that would've made a gorilla proud.

"I expect them to be disciplined," the agent demanded tersely.

"Oh they will be," Roth promised, and Blair realized that his Captain meant to keep that promise. "You two head back to the station and get your paperwork done," Roth ordered. Blair didn't even bother to apologize. He took one look at Roth's barely contained anger and decided to wait until they were in private where Roth could rip them a new one without an FBI audience.

"Yes, sir," Jim answered for both of them and Roth's body stiffened even more as his lips pressed into a tight line. Blair followed Jim back to his truck.

"Oh man, Roth is seriously hacked off," Blair commented once they were the privacy of the truck.

"He'll get over it, Junior. We made the arrest," Jim pointed out. Blair couldn't dispute that despite the fact that it didn't ease his guilt in the least. Jim started the truck and pulled out onto the traffic on 19th Ave.

"You're going to have quite the shiner there," Jim commented, and Blair reached up to explore the edges of his injury with his fingers. Jim was right -- he was going to have one hell of a black eye.

"I thought I told you stay on the roof?" Jim complained mildly.

Blair looked over his partner. Oh yeah, they'd come full circle now. What bothered Blair was the thought that when you walked in a circle, you never got anywhere.