When Stella turns bad and disappears, 'presumed' dead, known to be very much alive, Shannon begins to search for the elusive Dagostino, a legend within drug rings and weapons trades.
M for drug references, gang fights, graphic violence, and Stella being a very naughty girl. ;)
Final chapter of Fader going up sometime this weekend - not that anyone reads that anyway. Ha. This should keep you all a little bit occupied for a while until S4 hits our screens.
"I know, that's just the way it goes, and you ain't right."
With two white lines laid out on the bench in front of her, Stella took a deep breath and exhaled quietly, checking that the bathroom door was securely locked and there was indeed no-one in the room. Bending her head, she quickly snorted daddy's magic sugar, both lines gone within thirty seconds. Holding her left nostril, she snorted once, then repeated while holding her right closed. Breathing deeply, Stella smiled happily before cleaning up any evidence of her illegal act, then exiting the bathroom into the TR base.
Shannon smiled happily as her best friend entered the locker room, a wide grin etched across Dagostino's face as she embraced Shannon.
"What's doin', Shan?"
"Briefing with Lawson in ten minutes." Reluctantly letting go of the smaller woman, Shannon frowned as she noticed a trace of white powder on Stella's lip.
"What?" Seeing Shannon's gaze directed to her lips, Stella grinned and raised her eyebrows. "See something you like, Sergeant?"
"Not really, no." Shannon reached out and wiped the powder off Stella's lip, raising it to her nose and inhaling gently.
"Talcum powder," Stella quickly explained. "Keeps me... fresh."
"Sure." Shannon brushed her fingers off, laughed, then passed Stella her tactical vest. "Let's roll."
After briefing, TR2 was cruising the southern suburbs, after Intel had received reports of gang brawls erupting throughout the usually peaceful outskirts.
"Josh, we're getting reports of a nasty fight at Cranbourne North, should only be about ten k's from your current position."
"Address?"
"One five Stawell Street." In the back seat, Stella had turned a strange shade of puce, unnoticed by her Sergeant and Christian.
"No worries, we're on it." Josh reached over and flipped on the lights and sirens, instructing Christian to "fucking floor it".
Within the space of four minutes, TR2 had arrived on scene. The brawlers took one look at the tactical officers before quickly splitting, though not before one recognised Stella and quickly nodded to her before sprinting away.
"Uhh, guys, I'm not feeling too good. Need to sit down." Without waiting for a reply, Stella walked away, rounding a corner before collapsing onto a nearby bench. From a driveway nearby, the brawler who had recognised Stella swiftly emerged and approached her from behind.
"The camera. Turn it off."
Nodding, Stella disconnected the camera before removing the vest entirely, setting it down on the bench.
"The guys didn't recognise you, luckily. I was the only one."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious."
"Shut it. We know who you really are, and you're lucky that we keep it fucking quiet. Imagine an upstanding member of our community, suddenly busted with drugs? Be awful, wouldn't it?"
"You'd really go that far? I buy my fix, I keep you guys on the Q-T, we're all happy."
"Not today, we weren't." The man leaned closer. "I can't keep everything peaceful forever. Listen here. You come here again, you'll regret it permanently. Your job? Gone. Your house? Gone. You'll be dead."
"Shut up. Just shut up." The all-too familiar pounding was beginning inside her head, the wind-up brass monkeys all crashing their cymbals into her brain. As the man left, Stella rested her head in her hands and closed her eyes, allowing the downer hallucinations to begin.
"No, Stel! That's too far!"
"Well, Shan, do you want this picture straight or what?"
"Hear that? That's classic Van Halen."
"I couldn't care if it was classic dog shit, Josh, it sucks."
"This is the second time this week you've been late."
"Lawson, you're worse than my nanna."
A field of red dust and green grass, with golden cattle grazing. A concrete water trough, easily the size of a small swimming pool. And completing the picture, a very naked Seargent Shannon Henry sitting in the water.
"Come on, Stel, it's perfect."
"We both know this doesn't exist. I'm hallucinating."
"Yes, but there's no reason why you can't make the most of it." Shannon stood up, allowing the cool water to cascade down her perfect body.
"Fuck it, you don't have a downer hallucination like this every day." Stella looked down, amazed to see that she was already wearing... nothing.
"That's how I like it Stel, now get over here."
"Stel? Stella? SENIOR CONSTABE STELLA DAGOSTINO!"
Jolted out of her hallucinations by no-one other than Brendan Joshua, Stella's first reaction was to slap him. So she did.
"What the fuck?"
"I was having the best fucking... daydream ever and you came along and fucking woke me up!"
"Stella, you've been out for an hour, Christian and I have been panicking like a couple of teenagers caught planking."
"Ah, fuck it. Sorry for slapping you."
"It's fine. Now get in the car, we're going back to base."
The next day at briefing, Lawson stood in front of the largest screen.
"Now, this is our target." He tapped a nearby keyboard, and a picture of Stella's dealer appeared. "Identified as one Raymond Key, approximately twenty-nine years old, wanted for questioning in relation to drug importation and resale."
Stella stopped listening right about then.
'What if he squeals? That's bye-bye TR for me! I've already been out once... can't do it permanently... or can I?'
"Lawson, I need to use the bathroom."
The Senior Sergeant waved. "Fine, Stel, go."
Stella looked into the mirror.
'I could leave... head far away... it'd mean that everyone would be safe... from HIM.'
"Stella Dagostino, get a grip on yourself! I can't do that," she scolded her reflection.
'Why not? It'd be easy... just empty out your locker after shift and leave for good. Don't turn up tomorrow morning. Ditch the car. Get a new identity. Go far, far away.'
"I can't leave everyone. Shan, Josh, Christian..."
'You'll be protecting them.'
"Fine." She pulled a small bag out of her pocket, filled with white powder. "But first, business as usual."
Lawson had finished the briefing by the time Stella re-entered the Intel room, and the rest of the team was packing the cars.
"Lawson, I'm really not feeling well." Stella rubbed her temples. "I can feel a migraine coming on."
Lawson growled. "Really?"
"Yep." She faked a wince and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Fine, go home. Don't drive."
"No worries." Stella allowed herself to glance one last time at Shannon, before bustling to the locker room and packing all her gear away. She heard the two cars start. then roll out of the garage, and was suprised to feel a tear slip down.
'Be strong, Stella, it's for the best.'
Three hours later, returning to base with Raymond and the team, Shannon looked around quickly for Stella before dragging the dealer into an interview room.
'He reckons Stel's a regular customer... but that's not possible... she's a cop, one of us. She'd never stoop to that.'
"I have evidence." Raymond nodded. "Check my phone. I record all sale conversations, take photos, so on and so forth." He smirked and leaned back as best he could with his hands cuffed. "For business purposes, of course."
Putting on the nirile gloves, Shannon opened the evidence bag, with Christian and Josh watching carefully, and pulled out the iPhone. Opening up the images folder, she gasped as photo after photo of Stella buying cocaine filled up the screen.
Stella drove, silently crying as she left her home and heart behind. The car was stolen - the one Kerry usually drove - and the only clothes she had were the civilian ones that she was wearing. She'd also kept the service weapon, but for a different reason.
"I need to go north... ditch the car... sell what I've got. the Glock'll go down well, should expect a grand or so for that. Fake I.D is sorted."
"But I've left my heart behind." Stella allowed the image of Shannon to enter her head for a brief moment.
'No more of that. I'm a nobody, as of now. They know me... only as Dagostino.'