Black Dragging
Jake watched the snow fall onto Sara's hair and melt on contact. He felt guilty at his safety in the warm and running car, and even worse at the tears streaking down Pez's face. He never should have sent her to the Rialto, and were it not for his gross miscalculation she would still have her partner. He'd hoped to usurp Danny's position somehow -- without killing the guy. He hated himself for following his assistant director's orders, and waiting for Pez to go inside before following. Still, he'd needed stronger evidence -- all he knew was a rumor of a tattooed bullet, and that the group was a carefully organized group of up-and-comers. The only obvious rising star he saw on his initial investigation was Sara, and the attitude of the other officers was on the surface so fraternal he'd mistakenly assumed all was equal. She seemed like the right person to claim as a protégé, with her grudge against Gallo and her obvious relationship with Joe Siri. His only Solid human lead was Tommy Gallo, and Pez was the only person with an obvious connection to the crook. How painfully wrong he'd been.
Not that arriving within due time would have made a difference. That bastard in black was determined to block him from reaching Sara or Danny, and all he could do was listen helplessly to the gunshots. Where did that son of a bitch come from, anyway? Nothing about such a person appeared on any prior reports. All Jake could figure was that this cloak and dagger guy had an interest in Sara, too.
While Sara grieved, Jake became sure of two things: Sara was not his vigilante protégé, and he had now probably made her a target. He owed her protection, and he was, unbeknownst to the rest of the department, the most qualified person to act as her backup. If there was ever an opportunity to make up for how he'd damaged her life, he would take it, regardless of his personal risk.
When he ran the idea past his director, his superior made it an order. "You fucked up, you fix it, McCartey. I don't care who you have to blackmail, get assigned as her partner PRONTO." Cold comfort under his guise of clueless rookie, but Jake wanted to be the one at Sara's side.
He could hear from his spot in the warm car Siri trying to comfort Sara. "I know what it's like to lose a partner." Siri placed a hand on her arm before he walked away, leaving the inconsolable woman alone at her partner's grave. Jake thought it telling that it was Sara, and not Danny's wife, who was the last to leave. All he could do was stare at her as he drove off with Siri, projecting his apologies, explanations and true sorrow into her insensible back.
Siri could not know what Jake had to do with the fiasco. "I still don't understand what happened," Jake figured he should play the conversation dumb and slightly insensitive. "You'd think with the carnage Pez would be dead, too."
Siri pressed his lips together. Good, Jake had made himself sound just as asinine as he'd intended. "Thank God that didn't happen. I'm just so sorry her father's not alive."
"Yeah? Gallo said something about her father to her, what's the deal with those two?"
Siri gave him a sidelong glance. "The Pezzinni's have a family tradition of getting pissed off by him, that's all." The finality with which Siri said "that's all" was enough to clue Jake to shut up, even if he actually were an idiot rookie.
The silence on the way back to the station gave Jake enough time to form a plan in his mind. As painful as it was, he knew enough to take advantage of how the situation unfolded at the Rialto. There was no way Pez should have walked out of that situation alive, so coming in as a slightly naive tell-all training partner would make it appear to Siri that he had a way of keeping an eye on Pezzinni.
************************
Convincing Siri to assign him to Pez took far less work than he thought. Apparently fatherly concern really did affect Joe's decisions regarding her. Jake took it and ran, anyway he could.
"I don't think you're the one to cover her back," Siri had told him. And if Jake were the actual idiot he was pretending to be, that would be true.
"Yeah, I know, she thinks she's ten foot tall and bullet proof." Which was part of why she'd lost her partner; he shared her drive. Pezzinni was too good to affect overconfidence, but so single-minded in her pursuit of someone that her decisions manifested as such.
"The only person so far who was able to cover her back was Danny Woo."
Point taken. Woo shared some of her single-minded drive. Then again, his partnership with her balanced out her extremes. "Come on," Jake would beg, even filibuster. He was under orders, after all.
"I'll think about it."
Jake nodded. He could tell that was as far as he'd get with Siri.
*************************
Jake's eyes were raw from staring at the screen all night. Too many people were wandering in and out of his space, he couldn't really check the CIA database with that level of traffic. He admitted that part of the reason he'd hoped to out Woo before was to get into that private office that Woo shared with Pez so he could close the blinds while he did research.
Still, the FBI set him up really nice with DSL. Even with his speedy connection, though, he seemed no closer to finding a likeness of his cloak and dagger creep from the Rialto. What the hell was that about? In all of his surveillance, he'd never noticed that guy. The screen blinked and blurred while a headache crept across his forehead. He dragged his hands over his face.
"Nothing."
A beer was in order. Jake flipped the screen off and wandered over to the fridge in his gigantic kitchen. The FBI was kind enough to pay his Internet access and research equipment, and to put him up in this gorgeous apartment, to support his cover story about living on champion surfing funds. In reality, surfing did not pay so well, and neither did an FBI salary. He'd miss this place when the investigation was done, but hopefully he'd find himself back on the California shores with his true love the sea.
In the meantime, he'd take a break from work, and watch his mistress of the hour, Cartoon Network. He flopped out on the couch, and caught an episode of Johnny Bravo, where he took notes for his rookie persona, and then relaxed to watch Powder Puff Girls, Scooby Doo and Thunder Cats. He hadn't seen TC in years, it was still as dorky cool as it was when he was a kid. He just got comfortable when the buzzer rang.
Dammit. He was tempted to not answer the door. Still, what if it was one of his contacts, or his assistant director? They were prone to late night visits -- it was really the best way to slip under the radar of the cops. Instead, surprise of surprises, it was Pezzinni.
"Can I come in?"
Excellent, perhaps she'd come to him on developing trust. "Yeah, absolutely."
She walked past him, seeming a bit distracted. "How can you afford a place like this on a cop's salary?"
Aw shit. He opened his mouth, fumbling for a fast explanation since he hadn't expected to see her.
She pointed to a doorway. "Bedroom?"
That's what she came over for? He could live with that. "Yeah."
She walked in without even questioning the turnstile, and threw herself on the bed. She was completely dead to the world the moment she hit the mattress. Jake halfheartedly prodded her, maybe to ask what she'd come over for, but apparently her entire intention was focused on sleeping.
That was fine. He covered her with a blanket, and went back to his research. His cartoon break must have helped him; he thought to go over the records of who owned the Rialto, and look for his buddy in black from there. The research hit pay dirt. With a few quiet phone calls, he had connected his man to Kenneth Irons and thus to the Rialto. He also recognized that even the CIA knew very little.
He set out his file folders, with any obviously FBI material removed, for Sara to look at and attempted to make a decent breakfast of bacon and eggs. Sara came wandering out.
"You ok?" he asked her. She already knew about his assignment as her partner; there was no other explanation for her walking in and flopping on his bed as though she owned the place.
He also knew, from watching Danny, to have a decent cup of coffee ready for her.
She grabbed the cup. "After I have some more of this I will be."
He started dishing out plates of breakfast, looking forward to showcasing his cooking skills. While he worked at the stove, he told her about the file in front of her. Much as he wanted to engage in small talk, he wasn't sure how, and he wasn't about to pry as to why she didn't want to sleep in her own bed last night. Irons looked like trouble, and the kind that was impossible to prove and difficult to hold for 72 hours.
He turned to grab silverware for Sara's plate, and when he came back around, she was gone. Just when he thought he'd started to establish a communication pattern.
Dammit. Guess he'd just have to spend more time investigating what this Black Dragons unit was all about, and why Irons employed his cloak and dagger friend. He knew that convincing Sara to trust him would be difficult, but if she hared off all the time, damned near impossible.
***************
At least he had a name, now. Ian Notthingham. Either way, if he ever saw the son of a bitch again, he'd do his level best to beat him to a pulp -- because of Nottingham, Danny Woo was dead. And Sara came damn close. Jake was tempted to make Ian his personal quest, to destroy the guy by any means possible -- but then the bacon and eggs hit his stomach. He had a job to do, which was make up for how he'd screwed Sara Pezzinni's life, and to find and take down the White Bulls. The likes of Nottingham would come around as it was meant to come around. Tide in, tide out.
Jake watched the snow fall onto Sara's hair and melt on contact. He felt guilty at his safety in the warm and running car, and even worse at the tears streaking down Pez's face. He never should have sent her to the Rialto, and were it not for his gross miscalculation she would still have her partner. He'd hoped to usurp Danny's position somehow -- without killing the guy. He hated himself for following his assistant director's orders, and waiting for Pez to go inside before following. Still, he'd needed stronger evidence -- all he knew was a rumor of a tattooed bullet, and that the group was a carefully organized group of up-and-comers. The only obvious rising star he saw on his initial investigation was Sara, and the attitude of the other officers was on the surface so fraternal he'd mistakenly assumed all was equal. She seemed like the right person to claim as a protégé, with her grudge against Gallo and her obvious relationship with Joe Siri. His only Solid human lead was Tommy Gallo, and Pez was the only person with an obvious connection to the crook. How painfully wrong he'd been.
Not that arriving within due time would have made a difference. That bastard in black was determined to block him from reaching Sara or Danny, and all he could do was listen helplessly to the gunshots. Where did that son of a bitch come from, anyway? Nothing about such a person appeared on any prior reports. All Jake could figure was that this cloak and dagger guy had an interest in Sara, too.
While Sara grieved, Jake became sure of two things: Sara was not his vigilante protégé, and he had now probably made her a target. He owed her protection, and he was, unbeknownst to the rest of the department, the most qualified person to act as her backup. If there was ever an opportunity to make up for how he'd damaged her life, he would take it, regardless of his personal risk.
When he ran the idea past his director, his superior made it an order. "You fucked up, you fix it, McCartey. I don't care who you have to blackmail, get assigned as her partner PRONTO." Cold comfort under his guise of clueless rookie, but Jake wanted to be the one at Sara's side.
He could hear from his spot in the warm car Siri trying to comfort Sara. "I know what it's like to lose a partner." Siri placed a hand on her arm before he walked away, leaving the inconsolable woman alone at her partner's grave. Jake thought it telling that it was Sara, and not Danny's wife, who was the last to leave. All he could do was stare at her as he drove off with Siri, projecting his apologies, explanations and true sorrow into her insensible back.
Siri could not know what Jake had to do with the fiasco. "I still don't understand what happened," Jake figured he should play the conversation dumb and slightly insensitive. "You'd think with the carnage Pez would be dead, too."
Siri pressed his lips together. Good, Jake had made himself sound just as asinine as he'd intended. "Thank God that didn't happen. I'm just so sorry her father's not alive."
"Yeah? Gallo said something about her father to her, what's the deal with those two?"
Siri gave him a sidelong glance. "The Pezzinni's have a family tradition of getting pissed off by him, that's all." The finality with which Siri said "that's all" was enough to clue Jake to shut up, even if he actually were an idiot rookie.
The silence on the way back to the station gave Jake enough time to form a plan in his mind. As painful as it was, he knew enough to take advantage of how the situation unfolded at the Rialto. There was no way Pez should have walked out of that situation alive, so coming in as a slightly naive tell-all training partner would make it appear to Siri that he had a way of keeping an eye on Pezzinni.
************************
Convincing Siri to assign him to Pez took far less work than he thought. Apparently fatherly concern really did affect Joe's decisions regarding her. Jake took it and ran, anyway he could.
"I don't think you're the one to cover her back," Siri had told him. And if Jake were the actual idiot he was pretending to be, that would be true.
"Yeah, I know, she thinks she's ten foot tall and bullet proof." Which was part of why she'd lost her partner; he shared her drive. Pezzinni was too good to affect overconfidence, but so single-minded in her pursuit of someone that her decisions manifested as such.
"The only person so far who was able to cover her back was Danny Woo."
Point taken. Woo shared some of her single-minded drive. Then again, his partnership with her balanced out her extremes. "Come on," Jake would beg, even filibuster. He was under orders, after all.
"I'll think about it."
Jake nodded. He could tell that was as far as he'd get with Siri.
*************************
Jake's eyes were raw from staring at the screen all night. Too many people were wandering in and out of his space, he couldn't really check the CIA database with that level of traffic. He admitted that part of the reason he'd hoped to out Woo before was to get into that private office that Woo shared with Pez so he could close the blinds while he did research.
Still, the FBI set him up really nice with DSL. Even with his speedy connection, though, he seemed no closer to finding a likeness of his cloak and dagger creep from the Rialto. What the hell was that about? In all of his surveillance, he'd never noticed that guy. The screen blinked and blurred while a headache crept across his forehead. He dragged his hands over his face.
"Nothing."
A beer was in order. Jake flipped the screen off and wandered over to the fridge in his gigantic kitchen. The FBI was kind enough to pay his Internet access and research equipment, and to put him up in this gorgeous apartment, to support his cover story about living on champion surfing funds. In reality, surfing did not pay so well, and neither did an FBI salary. He'd miss this place when the investigation was done, but hopefully he'd find himself back on the California shores with his true love the sea.
In the meantime, he'd take a break from work, and watch his mistress of the hour, Cartoon Network. He flopped out on the couch, and caught an episode of Johnny Bravo, where he took notes for his rookie persona, and then relaxed to watch Powder Puff Girls, Scooby Doo and Thunder Cats. He hadn't seen TC in years, it was still as dorky cool as it was when he was a kid. He just got comfortable when the buzzer rang.
Dammit. He was tempted to not answer the door. Still, what if it was one of his contacts, or his assistant director? They were prone to late night visits -- it was really the best way to slip under the radar of the cops. Instead, surprise of surprises, it was Pezzinni.
"Can I come in?"
Excellent, perhaps she'd come to him on developing trust. "Yeah, absolutely."
She walked past him, seeming a bit distracted. "How can you afford a place like this on a cop's salary?"
Aw shit. He opened his mouth, fumbling for a fast explanation since he hadn't expected to see her.
She pointed to a doorway. "Bedroom?"
That's what she came over for? He could live with that. "Yeah."
She walked in without even questioning the turnstile, and threw herself on the bed. She was completely dead to the world the moment she hit the mattress. Jake halfheartedly prodded her, maybe to ask what she'd come over for, but apparently her entire intention was focused on sleeping.
That was fine. He covered her with a blanket, and went back to his research. His cartoon break must have helped him; he thought to go over the records of who owned the Rialto, and look for his buddy in black from there. The research hit pay dirt. With a few quiet phone calls, he had connected his man to Kenneth Irons and thus to the Rialto. He also recognized that even the CIA knew very little.
He set out his file folders, with any obviously FBI material removed, for Sara to look at and attempted to make a decent breakfast of bacon and eggs. Sara came wandering out.
"You ok?" he asked her. She already knew about his assignment as her partner; there was no other explanation for her walking in and flopping on his bed as though she owned the place.
He also knew, from watching Danny, to have a decent cup of coffee ready for her.
She grabbed the cup. "After I have some more of this I will be."
He started dishing out plates of breakfast, looking forward to showcasing his cooking skills. While he worked at the stove, he told her about the file in front of her. Much as he wanted to engage in small talk, he wasn't sure how, and he wasn't about to pry as to why she didn't want to sleep in her own bed last night. Irons looked like trouble, and the kind that was impossible to prove and difficult to hold for 72 hours.
He turned to grab silverware for Sara's plate, and when he came back around, she was gone. Just when he thought he'd started to establish a communication pattern.
Dammit. Guess he'd just have to spend more time investigating what this Black Dragons unit was all about, and why Irons employed his cloak and dagger friend. He knew that convincing Sara to trust him would be difficult, but if she hared off all the time, damned near impossible.
***************
At least he had a name, now. Ian Notthingham. Either way, if he ever saw the son of a bitch again, he'd do his level best to beat him to a pulp -- because of Nottingham, Danny Woo was dead. And Sara came damn close. Jake was tempted to make Ian his personal quest, to destroy the guy by any means possible -- but then the bacon and eggs hit his stomach. He had a job to do, which was make up for how he'd screwed Sara Pezzinni's life, and to find and take down the White Bulls. The likes of Nottingham would come around as it was meant to come around. Tide in, tide out.