3. In Pursuit Of Justice - Неизвестный

This time, Sloan might have heard, because she appeared to loosen her grip on Clark’s jacket. Apparently, that had been the opening he was waiting for, because he brought both arms forcefully up between Sloan’s, breaking her grip and pushing her back at the same time. The force of his blow deflected off Sloan’s arms as she let go, and his swinging fists caught Rebecca in the chest with the force of a sledgehammer. Rebecca rocked back on her heels, pain exploding in her chest.

By that time, they had drawn a crowd. Jason was between Clark and Sloan and the two men were shouting. Sarah was at Sloan’s side, gently but firmly pushing her away. Rebecca sagged against the wall, one hand pressed to her chest, struggling to get her breath.

“For God’s sake,” Catherine exclaimed, having seen the last of the altercation as she approached down the hall. “Have you all lost your minds? Sarah, take Sloan back to the waiting room. I’ll be there in a minute.” She kept walking until she reached Rebecca, her heart in her throat. Pain was carved into every line of the detective’s body, and for one terrifying second, Catherine saw her as she had been the night in Sandy’s apartment— gasping for breath, one lung down, on the brink of full arrest. Oh no, not again.

Rebecca forced herself to focus and took a slow, shallow breath. “I’m okay,” she managed, reading the panic in Catherine’s face. Taking another shaky breath, she repeated, “I’m okay. He just…surprised…me, that’s all.”

“You need to sit down,” Catherine said in a voice which she hoped sounded calmer than she felt.

“Okay, right. Just… give me a minute,” Rebecca said, uncertain that she could actually make it across the room. She looked around, putting together the events of the last few furious minutes. “Where’s Sloan?”

“Sarah has her. Rebecca, please,” Catherine said, slipping her arm around Rebecca’s waist.

“What about Clark?” Rebecca said through gritted teeth. God, her chest hurt.

“With Jason, I think.” Catherine gave up trying to keep her quiet and simply guided her slowly across the room to the row of orange plastic molded seats. “Sit. I mean it.”

Rebecca sank down willingly and leaned her head back against the institutional tan wall. “What a fuck up.”

“I’ll be right back,” Catherine murmured, returning a second later with a stethoscope borrowed from one of the trauma nurses. Unbuttoning Rebecca’s shirt, she slipped the bell under the material and murmured, “Breathe.”

Rebecca took a breath, and then another. It hurt, but she was getting air. “I’m…oka…”

“Shh,” Catherine admonished, moving the stethoscope over both sides of Rebecca’s chest. Finally satisfied, she sat back and slipped the instrument from around her neck. “You sound okay. We should probably get a chest x-ray just to be sure.”

For a moment, Rebecca looked as if she might protest, then she nodded. “Can it wait until I get everybody settled down here?”

Catherine didn’t want to negotiate where Rebecca’s wellbeing was concerned, but she recognized the attempt at compromise. Inwardly, she was still trembling, but Rebecca was trying to meet her half way, and she needed to try, also. “All right, that’s a deal. But not more than an hour.”

“Good enough,” Rebecca said, getting just a bit shakily to her feet.

“Promise?”

Rebecca brushed the wisps of hair back from Catherine’s temple gently. There had been too much fear for one evening. For one lifetime. And she couldn’t swear it wouldn’t happen again. But this she could do. “Yes. I promise.”

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

LESS THAN AN hour later, Sloan, Rebecca, and Avery Clark gathered in yet another unmemorable conference room at University Hospital. They had to meet there, because Sloan wouldn’t leave until Michael’s repeat Cat scans were done and Torveau decided if surgery was needed on her fractured kidney. Rebecca watched warily as Clark and Sloan eyed each other across the ten foot space, ready to dive between them yet again if the tension in the air became physical.

“If I’ve got some reason to apologize,” Sloan said flatly, watching Clark’s face, “I will. But I’m not convinced that I do. You find out in the morning that I’m close to nailing someone and that evening a car tries to run me down. That seems just a little too neat.”

Clark looked from Sloan to Rebecca, judging the battle lines and allegiances. Shrugging as if to acknowledge that he was outnumbered, he sat down and gestured with a hand for them to do the same. “Look,” he began resignedly, “I can tell you what I know, but I don’t have the answers you’re looking for.”

“Any answers would be a start,” Rebecca interjected sharply. “There are holes in this investigation big enough to drive a truck through. What’s the real purpose behind what you’ve got us doing?”

“This is a legitimate attempt to expose the child pornography ring that we believe is operating in this area,” he insisted. “We don’t know yet how deep or how far this kind of Internet crime extends, but it’s much broader and already more technologically sophisticated than we ever dreamed—and the dispersion of the actual pornography is just one small piece of it. It ties closely to child prostitution, and that ties strongly to organized crime. Because of that, it’s a priority with any number of federal agencies as well as your own department. We’re the advance team, in a sense.”

The two women waited in silence. There was more; there had always been more.

“The situation in this city is slightly more complicated.” He glanced at Rebecca and hesitated. “We’ve suspected for a long time that organized crime had compromised local law enforcement at the highest levels. It’s a legacy that goes back forty years or more. It’s less overt now, but it’s still there.”

“Every city has that kind of corruption to some extent,” Rebecca remarked impatiently. “It’s a fact of life. What’s that got to do with us?”

“Every time we get close to the syndicate in this region, our eyewitnesses disappear, our evidence gets lost, or some jurisdictional oversight results in the case being thrown out before we ever get to court.”

“So you’ve got a leak,” Sloan said through gritted teeth, frustrated with the typical circumspect vagaries she thought she’d left behind when she’d left Justice. “Or else you’re the problem.”

“It’s not our leak.” Clark sagged slightly, looking suddenly drained. “We were close to getting names a few months ago. We had a good pipeline to inside information—an undercover agent who was putting together the links we needed to go right to the top.” His expression darkened. “And then someone took him out.”

“Someone was cleaning house,” Rebecca said grimly. “We lost cops then, too. My partner was one of them.”

“That’s something we have in common, Detective,” Clark said with a frustrated sighed. “Jimmy Hogan was one of mine.”

“What?” Rebecca said sharply, body tensing. “Hogan was an undercover narcotics agent for the Philadelphia PD.”

“He was also a United States Justice Department investigator.”

For a moment, the room was silent, and then Rebecca said quietly, “So Hogan was doing double duty, and he was going to help you make a federal case against the Zamora crime family. That was his ultimate agenda, and the narcotics angle was just a cover. Did you know he was going to give us the Intel on the kiddie prostitution ring?”

“It was important for his cover that he function as a cop as well, and it seemed fair to feed you some information on that. We were only interested in the guys at the top.”

“But someone found out about it,” Rebecca said. “And took him down. My partner just happened to be with him.”

“That’s how we read it,” Clark acknowledged. “When we set up this task force, I wanted to keep it small so that something like what happened to Jimmy wouldn’t happen again. The fewer people who know what we’re doing, the safer I figured we’d be.”

“Any ideas who the leak is?” Sloan asked grimly, her attention on Rebecca now. Apparently Clark had convinced her of his veracity.

“Theories, nothing more at this point,” the detective replied with a shrug. First and foremost, she was a cop. She didn’t indict other cops without evidence, and she had none. Avery Clark might be telling the truth; in fact she thought that he probably was. But that didn’t mean he was telling all the truth, and it didn’t mean he could be trusted. Until she had something concrete, and maybe not even then, she didn’t intend to share what she knew. Or even what she suspected.

“It looks like we’ll need to shelve tonight’s operation,” Clark said.

Sloan’s head snapped around to him. “Why?”

“We’re compromised,” he pointed out. “Someone clearly felt threatened—and they know your name.”

“I don’t think that means the operation is blown,” Rebecca disagreed. “If the leak is inside the department somewhere, they don’t know the details of the meet or who it’s with, just the general plan. Since they only know we’re getting close to someone, they’d go after the individual who was the greatest threat to exposing the Internet connection, which would eventually lead right up the ladder to the procurers and distributors—and finally to the money men. And right now that person is Sloan.”

“I say we keep going,” Sloan said, a cold hard rage filling her chest. “It’s my lover they put in the hospital. I want them.”

“I agree,” Rebecca added. “If we don’t move now, eventually they’ll get word to all their people to lay low, including these internet entry men. We’ll never have a better shot at it than tonight.”

“They may be waiting for you,” Clark pointed out. “They missed Sloan. They might try again at the meet. With McBride inside you’ll have a potential hostage situation.”

Rebecca’s face was unreadable. “That was always a possibility. We’ll be prepared for that.”

“You’re running the ground show, Frye. It’s your call.”

“Then I say we go.”

“I’ll want my people on board for the arrest,” Clark stated.

“They can ride back up,” Rebecca countered flatly. “We have to go in fast to protect Jason and secure the computers before this guy has a chance to destroy the evidence. That means a small strike force. I’ll run it with my people.” People I can trust at my back.

“You should bring in the TAC squad and a hostage negotiator, then. Just in case it goes bad.”

“You know those guys would bring in two dozen men and a half dozen armored vans and we’d lose the element of surprise. We go small and quiet.”

He looked for a moment like he would argue, then, seeming to relent, he replied, “Then at least bring your team shrink. You’ll have a negotiator present.”

Rebecca’s jaw clenched. “No.”

Sloan regarded her steadily, suspecting that she knew the reason for Frye’s resistance. When Catherine was in the room, something softened in the detective’s hard eyes. She said quietly, “Jason could be at risk.”

Rebecca hesitated a heartbeat, then blew out a breath. “Okay. But she rides back-up with you, Clark.”

“Fine,” he said, rising. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

“We’ll brief at four-thirty at Sloan’s,” Rebecca said tightly as he made for the door. When he’d closed it behind him, she turned to Sloan. “How’s Michael?”

“In and out. She…” Sloan faltered, her voice breaking. “Ah, fuck…” After a minute, she continued, “She opens her eyes for a second every now and then, but she doesn’t seem to recognize me.”

“That’s to be expected at this point, I guess.” She couldn’t think of a single thing to say that would help. Had it been Catherine—even contemplating it made her stomach roll with dread. “Jesus, I’m sorry, Sloan.”

Sloan looked away, swallowed once, then found her voice. “Thanks.”

“Is there anyone you can call in to help Jason tonight? I’ll need Mitchell for the strike force, and I don’t know if she’s computer savvy enough to handle your job anyhow.”

“I’ll be there,” Sloan said sharply.

“Look, Sloan,” Rebecca said evenly. “Things have changed. This operation is hot now, and we don’t know what we’re walking into tonight. You’re in no shape—”

“I’m okay.”

“Like hell you are.”

“They tried to kill me. They nearly killed Michael instead,” Sloan seethed. “I’m owed, Frye.”

“I need to be able to count on you. You’ve got…” she glanced at her watch. It was ten minutes to four Sunday morning. “You’ve got fifteen hours until this goes down. If you don’t sleep most of it, you’ll be a danger to all of us.”

Sloan rubbed her face with both hands and sighed. “I’ll sleep here. You have my word.”

“I need you sharp tonight, Sloan.

“I know what I need to do. I’ll do it.”

Rebecca took a chance, and took her at her word.

“I just reviewed your chest X-ray with the radiology resident. It’s normal,” Catherine informed her after Rebecca emerged from the conference room, the relief in her voice clear.

“Good,” Rebecca replied. “How do you feel? You look beat.”

“I feel about how I look,” Catherine said with a wry smile. “How’s Sloan?”

“Ragged, but calmed down a bit.”

Catherine sensed an uneasiness in Rebecca’s voice. “What is it?”

“Clark thinks it would be a good idea if you came along on the operation tonight. A precautionary thing.” Just saying the words made her chest tighten with anxiety.

“What do you think?” Catherine asked carefully.

“I think he’s right, and it’s exactly what I did not want to have happen,” Rebecca said sharply. A glimpse of Blake, the gun to Catherine’s head flashed through her mind. “Goddamn it.”

“It will be fine, Rebecca. It’s nothing like the last time.” When her lover merely nodded curtly, she asked gently, “We’re both tired. Let’s talk about it later.” Again Rebecca nodded silently, and Catherine continued, “What are you going to do now?”

“Drive back to Old City and check in with Watts and Mitchell.” As if anticipating Catherine’s next words, Rebecca added quietly, “Just for a few minutes. Then I’m sending Mitchell home and leaving the follow-up to Watts for the time being. I’ll meet you at your place in less than an hour.”

“All right,” Catherine said. She understood that Rebecca couldn’t rest until she had taken care of these last details. She understood it, and she tried hard to accept it. It wasn’t easy, seeing the deep shadows under her eyes and remembering the pain on her face just hours before. Then again, she doubted that any of them looked fit for public consumption at the moment. “I’m going to be leaving in just a few minutes, too. I just want to check on Michael one more time.”

Rebecca grasped her hand and drew her around the corner into the deserted alcove in front the elevators. Then she pulled her into her arms and kissed her, hard. Finally releasing her, she said fervently, “You were incredible tonight. None of us would’ve gotten through this without you.”