Disclaimer: The characters and background stories of the TV-shows "Stargate: SG-1", "Stargate: Atlantis", "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" and "Conviction" do not belong to me, unfortunately. I only take them out to play. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be made. The same goes for the characters of "Criminal Minds" and "Cold Case" who'll only play minor roles. "NCIS" is mentioned at the beginning but only as a TV reference.
Timeline: The story takes place in the middle of the seventh season of "L&O: SVU" and the fourth season of "Stargate: Atlantis", with slight changes in canon. For the sake of the story I synchronized both alternate realities and fused them into one. And though I might stretch the realms of probability once or twice I hope that it still works out.
Pairings (eventually): Sam/Janet, Alex/Olivia, Sam/Teyla, Jack/Daniel, Ronon/Vala.
Warning: There's violence, the mention of rape and torture but nothing too gruesome, I hope. Occasionally there's strong language. It also contains depictions of consensual sex between two adult women.
Summary: Cassandra disappears during spring break in New York City and Sam goes AWOL from Atlantis to get her little girl back – with the help of SVU detective Olivia Benson and the rest of the squad, and that's where things just get started.
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In the criminal justice system sexually based offences are considered especially heinous. In New York City the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit. This is one of their stories - and more.
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PROLOGUE
"Are we ready, Boris?"
"Sure, Boss," the young man answered, with a distinct emphasis on the 'boss'.
Colonel Samantha Carter of the US Air Force, recently promoted from Lieutenant Colonel for her part in defeating the Ori and now commanding officer of Atlantis, the City of the Ancients in the Pegasus Galaxy, smiled at the young, sandy-haired operator, a civilian computer specialist from Germany.
"Boss, hmm? So, for how many eps of NCIS did you stay last night, Probie?" Sam asked, referring to the NCIS marathon Colonel Shepard had organized for the weekend. He laughed in answer and muttered something that at least she was much hotter than DiNozzo or Gibbs.
"Dial us home, Probie."
Boris dialed Earth for the weekly report and chat. Instead of General Landry who was home with a severe cold, there was only Master Sergeant Siler at the other end, and in contrast to their usual calls he was his usual chatty self. He told her about an extensive check of the security system scheduled for later that day, something everyone with a single brain cell at least dreaded. Experience made Sam understand his preoccupation and they just exchanged reports and orders and promised to talk longer the next week.
Sam returned to her office, eager to read Cassie's weekly email. She knew Cassandra had planned to go what she called club crawling in New York with a few friends from med school. She had said that the traditional Florida Spring Break bash with its focus on binge drinking was not really to their liking. Cassie had said that she could barely wait to see New York for the first time.
Sam was looking forward to read about their exploits, but there was no mail, not even a short note telling her that Cassie was safely back in Denver. She knew that they had planned to fly back on Friday. Sam tried to tell herself that Cassie probably had a lot of sleep to catch up on and had not had time to compose a message, but in the six months since she had taken over the Atlantis base Cassie not once had missed to write to her and usually there had been even more than one message.
There probably was a very simple explanation but Sam couldn't help but worry. She tried to concentrate on her paperwork, but it was slow going. So, she was relieved when there was a knock on her door.
"Lieutenant Masters, how may I help you?" Sam asked the communication's officer in charge of decompressing and sorting the reports received from Earth and sending them to the different departments.
"The data burst from the SGC was rather slim this day but there was one message without a specific addressee. I can't make sense of it and asked Doctor McKay for help but he told me that he had more important things to do than to decipher chicken scratch, and that I should ask you."
"I doubt that these were his exact words," Sam muttered under her breath and then said loud. "I'm no linguist, so we might have to call in a specialist, but let me have a look at your chicken scratch."
Sam stared at the print-out for almost three minutes and when she looked up her face was as ashen as if she had just seen a ghost.
"Lieutenant Masters, call Colonel Shepard and his team back. I want them home ASAP. Call a senior staff meeting the moment they step through the gate, and delete any hint that this message ever existed. I want it gone from the computer core, from the back-ups and from every single storage device on which it could have found its way. Call me as soon as John, Teyla and Ronon are back."
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It took John and his team an hour to return. They were immediately ushered to the senior staff conference room. Rodney was barely looking up from his computations which had taken precedence over joining the flagship team on this mission. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that the last time they had gone to trade with this particular group he almost had gotten them all killed because of his blundering, really nothing at all. Jennifer Keller looked curious and worried but that was a rather standard expression for her when dealing with the continually unexpected that came with living in the City of the Ancients. The others all looked at each other with question marks in their eyes, but no one in the room seemed to know what this emergency meeting was all about.
Everyone fell silent when Sam entered the room. She had changed out of her uniform and was now wearing dark brown leather trousers, a black turtleneck and a long, dark brown leather coat. Her hair was in a ponytail and she carried a leather duffle bag over her right shoulder and an old, baggy briefcase, probably containing her laptop.
"I'm sorry for calling you in on such short notice. Something came up and I have to return to Earth in about an hour. Colonel Shepard will take over for me and everything will go its usual way. The duty rosters for the next three weeks are up to date, the missions are planned. With a bit of luck there will be no problems. Any questions?"
"Yeah, Sam, are these our new uniforms? I'm not sure Rodney would look good in something like that," John quipped.
"Sorry to disappoint you, John, but we'll have to stick to the uniforms you're wearing now. Anything else?"
"Colonel Carter, I assume your reason to return to Earth on such short notice is private. Is there anything we can do on our end?"
"Thanks for asking, Doctor Zelenka, but I don't think so, well, except for trying to keep this city in one piece. Thank you all for your understanding. Dismissed."
Everyone except for John's team and Jennifer left; then John asked. "What's really going on, Sam?"
"The chicken scratch," Rodney said suddenly. He looked up and his computer unit clattered to the floor. "Wow! Samantha! You're looking hot!"
"Chicken scratch?" Teyla asked.
"Oh, yes, a message sent with the data stream from Earth. I told Masterson to go and bother Carter with it," Rodney answered while he picked up his oversized padd.
"The message was in Goa'uld. It said that my dau… that Cassandra Fraiser is missing. She was in New York last week, for Spring Break, and I have not heard from her since. I don't know much more. The bigger part of the message contained a time to gate directly to Earth and an Iris code, as well as the warning to keep it low profile. John, I just granted myself some leave; so, you'll take over. I'll dial in directly. Going over Midway Station would take too long. To make sure that none of you are implicated, I already ordered a test run on the new gate room evacuation protocol. I'll do this alone."
"You might need some muscle on this Earth of yours, Colonel Carter," Ronon said.
"Thank you for the offer, Ronon Dex, but I don't even know what's wrong, and besides you are much more than just some muscle. However, you're hard to overlook and it would make it difficult to keep a low profile."
Ronon inclined his head in acceptance in a way that reminded Sam of Teal'c.
"Ronon has a point, you shouldn't go down there without some backup. The message could be a trick," John said.
"You don't need to worry about me, I'll be alright. Don't forget that I would not even know that there's a problem if I didn't have friends at the SGC and outside of it. The message was from Daniel Jackson. I trust him more than almost anyone else. I trust him with more than just my life," Sam said.
"Let's go and grab something to eat before you go, Sam," Teyla said.
"Teyla, we can't just let her go into the lion's den without someone watching her back," John protested.
"John, there's no way to stop Sam. This is her daughter who's in trouble. She has to go. And besides you shouldn't speak about your home planet as if it were enemy territory," Teyla explained.
"Thank you for understanding, Teyla. A salad and a soda sound good," Sam answered.
Only when they left the conference room they became aware that Jennifer and Rodney were no longer with them.
They insisted on accompanying her to the gate room and just when Sam had started to dial Rodney and Jennifer ran in from different directions. Jennifer carried one of the new emergency med kits equipped with diagnostic instruments which would be hard to come by on Earth. Rodney pressed a DVD into her hands.
"Here, you might need this. It should allow you access to every database on Earth. It holds the diagnostic programs I de… we developed a couple of weeks ago. I tweaked them a bit, well, you'll see."
"Thanks, Jennifer, thanks, Rodney. I appreciate that." Sam stuffed the med kit and the DVD in her briefcase, shouldered her duffle bag and stepped through the gate.
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Chapter ONE: Old Friends
Daniel was waiting for her in the gate room. They hugged and he hurried her out.
"Let's go, I'll explain everything on the way. Siler has shut down the security monitors for a security check but he can only keep them down for so long. We have to hurry. Jack thinks it would be best if the higher ups don't know about your arrival for as long as possible," he said while he dragged her along the corridor.
They took the elevator to level 12 and climbed up one of the access shafts from there. "Sorry for the unexpected workout, Sam."
"It's alright, Danny, I know it's the only way to avoid the security at the main entrance and the guards on level 11."
Daniel let her through the woods for about half an hour. When they reached the road, the lights of a black SUV blinked for a short moment and Jack stepped out.
They hugged. "It's good to see you, Sir."
"Carter, when will you learn to call me Jack?"
"I'll work on it, Si… Jack, but that habit is particularly hard to break. So, don't expect it before hell freezes over."
"That would be never. You got to do better than that, Sam. Remember, we were there when hell blew up. It no longer can freeze over," Jack quipped. "And now, kids, let's go. Next stop Denver International Airport. Danny-boy, fill her in."
"Sam, I…"
"Daniel, you don't have to sugar-coat things for me. Just tell me what you know, then tell me what you suspect, and only then we will talk about what you fear. Let's start with what I know, alright?"
Daniel nodded.
"Cassie told me that she and three of her friends would go to New York for Spring Break. She told me that she would be back the day before yesterday. I expected a long email about her trip but there was none in the weekly mail. And before I really had the chance to wonder about it, your message was brought to my attention."
"Cassie went to New York with her friends Alison, Marge and Cory. They were the first who contacted the SGC to tell us, or rather you that Cassie was missing. General Landry ordered me to drive to Denver to talk with them, and believe me the story they had to tell ranks to high heaven."
"Just the facts, please, Daniel."
"I'll try, Sam.
"Cassie and her friends had planned to take an early flight back on Friday morning. Thursday evening they wanted to hit Greenwich Village and started with the White Horse Tavern on Hudson Street to drink to the memory of Dylan Thomas. Then they made their way down to Rubyfruit's Bar & Grill. They only wanted to eat there but stayed much longer to dance. They wanted to get some air before hitting a club called Henrietta's or something, so, they decided to walk. They were in high spirits and didn't pay much attention to their surroundings. About three blocks down they suddenly were attacked.
"A group of six men came at them from a dark alley. Alison and Cory were able to give a very good description of two of them. They described them as some biker types. They called the girls stupid dykes and told them that they would teach them the error of their ways. That's why the girls think that they saw them leave Ruby's and followed them. Cassie and Marge tried to talk some sense into them but it didn't work. Urged on by their leader one of them attacked Marge and Cassie reacted. She lashed out and soon they were fighting. Cassie's training really paid off. She told the others to run away and call the police.
"911 was busy, but they almost literally ran into a police cruiser. Alison told the officers what had happened. They seemed reluctant to believe them and it took almost a quarter of an hour 'til they agreed to accompany them back to the alley. The alley, however, was empty, no sign of anything having happened there. The officers then brought them to the precinct. They filed a report and told them to keep with their plans. They told them that in more than ninety percent of cases like this the missing girl would come back on her own after a few hours or days when she had tired herself out."
Daniel saw how Sam's jaw tightened but she swallowed her protest, and he continued with his report.
"Alison and the others tried to make them understand that Cassie would never do something like that. They were told to calm down and that they could file a missing person's report in forty-eight hours. Then they were escorted back to their hostel. They didn't know what to do, so they called every hospital and free clinic they could find in the phone book, but no one fit Cassie's description. Before flying back home Alison called the SGC to contact you, Sam.
"General Landry took the call and he sent me to Denver to take their testimony and file a missing person's report via the Denver police in your name, after all you're her next of kin. He also alerted the IOC and Agent Barrett. I wanted to go to New York to help the authorities but General Landry convinced me that the NID would do everything in their power to find Cassie."
Daniel fell silent. He took a deep breath and made sure to look Sam in the eyes.
"Late the next day, that is yesterday, the general received a report from the IOC that Cassandra Fraiser's body had been found in a back street in New York, abused and mutilated. It said that the authorities had already received all the documentation necessary and that there could be no doubt that the ID would be positive. It said that we should consider the case closed. There also was an order not to tell you about it under any circumstances. They would deal with it when the time was right.
"Added was the most incomplete medical report in history, flanked by a preliminary autopsy report. Carolyn confirmed her father's suspicions. There was no mention of an anomalous factor in the blood. So, the medical examiner in New York either was extremely sloppy or the body of the young woman they found was not Cassandra Fraiser.
"Landry immediately called Jack and they both tried to dig deeper. Both of them were stonewalled. The next day, that is today, another message came in. It retracted the first, said that it had been an error on the part of an admin assistant. The new message contained a report of the NID that ascertained that Cassie's disappearance had nothing to do with the SGC or anything related to the SGC. Her case thus should be handled by the local authorities only. The order not to let you know about her disappearance unless you asked was affirmed."
"I don't get it," Sam said. "What do they think I would do? Grab a Wraith stunner and run amuck?"
"Jack, it's your turn," Daniel said.
Jack continued driving. "Agent Barrett called me right after the second IOC report had come in. He was as puzzled about the whole thing as we were. He told me about an unofficial IOC memo that had found its way in his mail. It was unsigned, but stated that Cassandra Fraiser and her latent supernatural abilities could pose a danger in the future and that it would be better to get rid of her as long as they still had control over her."
"Bastards!" Sam felt the urge to pace, instead she took a deep breath. If they were afraid of Cassie's latent abilities, what would they do if they found out about my active abilities?, she thought.
Then her powerful intellect took over. "So, what happened in New York was the best thing that could have happened to them. They placate us by saying that the local authorities will take care of it and at the same time they keep the police from really investigating by making them believe that the dead body in their morgue is Cassie."
Sam bit her lower lip. "I don't get it. It might even have worked, had they not sent this first report. They must have known that it would send up red flags at the SGC. So, why send it at all? Who at the IOC is playing us and why?"
"That's among the things I intend to find out as soon as I'm back in Washington, though it took us much longer to figure it out. I'll let you know via Daniel as soon as I got something for you," Jack said.
"As far as the tech guys at the base could find out the local coroner is still refusing to ID the body as Cassandra Fraiser. They were able to trace a few emails but couldn't get into their database. You'll probably get further. We put everything we know and all the documents we could get our hands on in there."
Daniel handed her a Blackberry.
"I'll use the same model. It's unregistered. We set it up in a way so that calls between the two phones can not be traced or tapped into. I'll act as a go between for Jack and you. Jack sent a packet to an old friend of his. His name is Nick, his cell number is on the speed dial. He'll wait for you at the airport with some wheels. In the packet you'll find a 9mm, a zat and a healing device. You can call on him should you need some muscle."
"Why does everyone think that I'll need additional muscle?"
"Everyone?" Jack asked from the driver's seat.
"Ronon offered to come with me, and like Teal'c if you don't know him it's easy to see him as muscle incarnate. I told him that I could handle it, and anyway even at the Big Apple he would have stood out like an armed Human on a hive ship."
"Sounds like you're well acclimated," Jack said.
Sam smiled though it didn't reach her eyes. It was just like O'Neill to pick up on slips like that.
"Atlantis is a great city, Jack. There are moments I forget that I'm only there for a year and then I think I could find a new home there." Sam looked into Daniel's eyes and continued, "This far away it does not hurt that much."
Daniel put his arms around her shoulders. He knew she would not cry but he also knew that she enjoyed the comfort. Janet would always be in her heart. The members of the original SG-1 knew that. They also knew how much it hurt her having to be at the base after her death. At first she had stayed to give Cassandra a chance to finish High School, and then there had been the replicator threat. Sam had taken over Research and Development at Area51 while Cassie had attended pre-med school close by. The Ori situation had forced Sam back to Cheyenne Mountain, but the men in her life knew that every single day at the base had been hell for her. No one said a word but all the old hands at the base knew it; Vala had picked up on it and had in her inimitable way done her best to get Sam to relax. Mitchell, on the other hand, would probably never figure it out.
When Jack pulled into the short time parking lot of the airport Sam said, "Si…Jack, there is something you should know, especially in light of their fear of Cassie's potential abilities. In my third month on Atlantis there was an accident in one of the newly discovered labs."
"I read the report, Sam. McKay blew it up," Jack answered.
"That's not the whole truth. It's true that Rodney set the whole thing in motion and it's also true that the lab exploded in the end. Our report didn't say that inside the lab we found a machine very similar to the one Nirrti once used on us, some sort of DNA re-sequencer. Rodney set it in motion and I got caught in it, and it changed me," Sam said.
"Changed you how?" Daniel asked.
"We don't know for sure. Jennifer, Jennifer Keller, our CMO, is still running tests. My reflexes are faster and I'm a bit stronger than I was before. I have the ability to make Ancient technology work and I suddenly understand their language. I can get things to work even Shepard has problems with and I can heal a body of physical trauma, at least as long as the person is still alive and has not yet lost too much blood."
"So, you could use the chair in Antarctica and then some?" Jack asked.
"Yes Jack. Let me show you." Sam leaned forward between the backrests of the front seats and let the palm of her hand rest on Jack's bad knee. He didn't feel any change but when she leaned back into her own seat her handprint was still glowing on the fabric of his jeans and the spot was slightly warm to the touch.
"It will probably only hold for a few weeks, Jack, maybe months. To heal your knee completely I would have needed more time."
"Who knows?" He asked.
Jack had never doubted Sam's words, he only wanted to diffuse some of her tension. He also knew that she had not just healed his knee to make a point but simply because she could and because it had been an easy way to do it without giving the impression that she cared too much.
"Apart from you and Daniel, A-1 and Jennifer; that is Jennifer Keller, Rodney McKay, John Shepard, Teyla Emmagen and Ronon Dex. With the tendency of the IOC to come to rash conclusions we thought it would be best if it didn't become general knowledge," Sam answered.
"A-1?" Jack asked.
"The flagship team of Atlantis. They're not SG-1, but they're doing a very good job," Sam answered with a smile.
"We'll keep your secret, Carter, and now go and get our girl back, Sam. And Sam, be careful," Jack said gruffly.
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Jack had booked her a seat on a night flight of a small airline. It would make two stops on the way, making the flight last close to eight and a half hours, but that was fine with Sam. It gave her the time to do some research, though Jack had told her in his best command voice to get some rest on the flight.
Rodney had not been kidding about the DVD. Sam uploaded it onto her laptop and despite her worry she managed a tiny smile at his minute modifications to the programs they had developed to bypass Ancient security codes. Earth encryption codes didn't stand a shadow of a chance. It enabled her to easily get access to every database in the world without leaving a trace. The secrets of Earth were all just a few keystrokes away; combined with her own programs it might just turn her laptop into the most powerful single processor unit this side of the Pegasus Galaxy. And that she used to great benefit.
Just minutes before the plane started its final descent, Sam knew that even if this were not about her daughter she would try to help put an end to this series of brutal murders.
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Jack's friend Nick did really qualify as muscle. He was as tall as Teal'c with a grey crew cut and kind wrinkles at the edges of his eyes. He held up a sign with her name and as she stepped closer he asked,
"So, you're the National treasure?"
"General O'Neill tends to exaggerate. I presume you're Nick?" Sam said with a noncommittal smile.
"Yes Colonel Carter. Major Nick Farthington, retired. I got your wheels and the packet outside."
"Call me Sam, please. This whole thing is so far outside of official channels that ranks really don't seem appropriate. Besides, Jack said that you're a friend, and a friend of his is a friend of mine."
"Sure thing, Sam. This way. It's not far."
They walked along the terminal towards the short term parking lots. When they turned the corner he led her to a beautiful '65 Harley with red upholstery.
"What a beaut'! I sense Jack's hand here. If there's one thing I miss at my current post it's that there's no chance to have a decent ride. I guess that's not your ordinary rental?" Sam asked.
"It's one of mine, actually it belongs to my wife, but she's upstate for the week. When she heard about your Indian she told me to let you use it."
Sam knew that Nick was only telling her part of the truth. However, as a friend of Jack's he probably also was ex-special ops and he wouldn't tell her more than he wanted to say.
"I'll treat her with care, Nick, I promise."
Nick nodded and said, "The packet is in the saddleback on the left. Now, would you give an old man a ride back to the city?"
"With pleasure, just let me take a quick look at the map and I'll drop you off wherever you want," Sam answered.
"Jack said that you know your way around the city. Give me an hour and I'll get you a car with a navigation system. It might be safer."
"Don't worry, Nick. Just give me five minutes and I won't need a navigation system. I guess Jack did not mention that I have an eidetic memory," Sam said calmly.
"Like, you remember everything you ever saw?" Nick asked.
"Not everything. I have to make a conscious effort to commit things to memory," Sam answered while she scanned the map she had unfolded on the seat of the bike. "So, where do you want me to drop you off, Nick?"
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Sam had dropped Nick off on Staten Island and received an invitation to spend the night at his house. An hour after her arrival Sam entered the 16th precinct on the heels of a redhead of about her height, dressed in a smartly cut business suit of a non-descript color. Sam followed the signs to the offices of the Special Victims Unit. The other woman was still in front of her. She followed her in.
"Benson, what's taking so long with the ID of the Fraiser case? Warner is stalling and I want this done," the woman said.
"Casey, no matter who our vic is, it still will be our case to solve. She was a victim of a rape-homicide. That's what we do. Melinda is good at what she does, just trust her."
"That's ADA Novak for you, Detective Benson. And you should know that identifying the victim is the first step to breaking the case. I need Warner to confirm that our vic is this Cassandra Fraiser to get the leverage we need to get through the mountain of red tape the military will without a doubt be throwing up."
"You never pressured us this way before, Casey. The doc would not lie to you. Please, don't make it personal."
"And how could I not? I'm the laughing stock at the DA's office," Casey retorted.
"I don't know about Hogan Place but we are not laughing at you, Casey. We all know that you were drunk and you did nothing really embarrassing."
"What a convenient excuse, drunk. I was not drunk enough not to know what I was doing. Get her to confirm this damn ID, ASAP."
The woman turned around with a huff and stormed out of the office. Sam had to step aside not to be overrun. She was tempted to say something Jack-like but instead stepped deeper into the room.
"Hello, I'm Detective Benson, how can I help you?" The dark haired woman who at the moment was the sole occupant of the squad room said.
"Samantha Carter. I'm here for Cassandra Fraiser. I can help you to confirm that your Jane Doe in the morgue is not her, and I'll need your help to find her. She's been missing for three days now. That is if you are the lead on this case, Detective Benson?"
"Yes, I am. You said you have proof about the identity of my victim?"
"No, I said that I have proof that your victim is not Cassandra Fraiser, Detective," Sam answered.
"What kind of proof?"
"Forensic evidence, medical reports, but it would be easier to explain it directly to your coroner, this way I won't have to repeat myself."
"How do I know that I can trust you, Miss Carter?" Olivia asked.
"You know that you can trust me if my information turns out to be right, Detective. Besides, you are my best shot at getting my… to get Cassandra back."
"Who is Miss Fraiser to you, Miss Carter?"
"Call me Sam. I'm her next of kin, so to speak. I helped to raise her and in my heart she is as much my daughter as if I had given life to her." Sam let a part of her feelings show in her eyes.
Enough to convince the dark-haired detective. "Call me Olivia. I'll let the captain know where we're going."
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Doctor Melinda Warner was about to go to lunch when Olivia entered through the open door. "Melinda, do you have a moment?"
"If you're here to do Novak's bidding, no, I don't have a moment."
"I got someone here who can give you the means to get Casey off your back," Olivia said.
"Now that sounds good enough to postpone lunch. So?"
Sam stepped from behind Olivia, stretched out her hand and froze. "Melinda? Melinda Morrison? Holy Hannah!"
Melinda's eyes widened. "Sam? Samantha Carter?" She took two hesitant steps forward, then rushed towards the blonde and embraced her.
"Sam, is this really you? Damn girl, you've grown even more beautiful over the years. How long has it been? Fifteen years? And it's Melinda Warner now."
"So, you married this gorgeous boyfriend of yours?" Sam asked.
"I did, Sam. What about you? Did you find the woman of your dreams?" Sam stiffened slightly but enough for Melinda to feel it and change the topic. "So, flygirl, you still up there keeping us lesser mortals safe?"
"I kept my flight qualifications up but it's been a while since I last flew an F16. I'm more into research these days," Sam answered. "I knew you quit after your stint in Bosnia, but I never would have expected to find you in a morgue."
"Bosnia was just too hard, all the pain and senseless violence. I saw women literally raped to death, I had to get out. Then I started to work at the ER, but the trauma was still too much to bear. I was not strong enough. Here I can at least do something to help," Melinda said softly.
"It's not a question of strength, Mel. One of the strongest persons I ever met returned from Bosnia ready to give up on medicine and the Air Force. Instead she made her interest in virology her main focus. Janet once said that without the distance it afforded her she would not have been able to go on. She said that she had needed the time to heal. So, I understand why you mustered out. You did what you had to do to stay sane," Sam answered while still holding the other woman and squeezing her shoulder.
"Janet? You know Janet Fraiser?" Melinda asked. "Without her help I would have gone AWOL after the first month in Bosnia. She has an innate knack for knowing when to be forceful and when someone just needs a bit of encouragement."
"Five feet one and the command presence of a three star general. My CO liked to call her Napoleonic power monger. I'm biased but she was the best doctor ever, not only in the Air Force."
Melinda picked up on the past tense, saw the barely concealed pain in Sam's eyes and took her in a comforting embrace. Sam allowed it for a minute and then stepped back.
"It has been over three years, Mel. We can catch up later. Let's deal with the present now. I brought the medical records for Cassandra Fraiser, blood work, dentals and a recent picture. It's not complete. Some of it is classified but it should be enough to convince you that your victim is not her."
Olivia observed the reunion with wide eyes. She had known that Melinda had once been with the Air Force, and now it seemed that the blonde stranger was too, and the incomplete records had come from the Air Force. So, as much as some part of her wanted to trust Sam, another, louder part called for caution.
"Wait a minute. You're with the Air Force? It was them who gave us those worthless medical records. So, what's your real agenda?"
"Olivia, you're overreacting. Sam would never do something like that. She's a friend and her word is enough for me," Melinda protested.
"Mel, Detective Benson has a point. I might have changed over the last fifteen years. Detective, Olivia, yes, I'm with the Air Force, but I'm not here as an Air Force officer. As far as the higher-ups know I'm still at my base. I didn't exactly ask for permission to come here," Sam explained.
"Then you're AWOL. How long do you have until your CO at the base finds out?" Melinda asked.
"I am the commanding officer. If nothing goes wrong I have a week before the Pentagon finds out, but I don't expect that I'll have this much luck. Officially I granted myself some overdue leave."
"What kind of crap do you try to sell here? You're far too young to command a base," Olivia asked.
Melinda laughed. "Olivia, when I met Sam she was fresh out of Air Force Academy and additional flight school. She was twenty-two and already had a PhD in astrophysics. What are you now? A lieutenant colonel?"
"They made me a full bird six months ago, Mel. And Olivia, the youngest colonel in the history of the Air Force was twenty-six. I'm thirty-eight. I wouldn't call that too young. I can understand your caution, but please believe me, the only thing I want is to bring Cassie back, safe and sound, and I don't care how many regulations I have to break to do that."
Olivia studied Sam's expression. "I believe you, Sam. I'm sorry but a mild form of paranoia, especially when dealing with government organizations is an occupational hazard for police officers. Let's get back to Cassandra Fraiser, alright?"
"Fraiser? Damn, I should have seen it earlier. She's Janet Fraiser's daughter," Melinda said.
"Adopted daughter, but yes, she's Janet's daughter, and mine," Sam answered, though the last part had been barely audible.
Melinda squeezed her friend's shoulder and began to study the file Sam had pulled out of her bag. Meanwhile Olivia asked, "So, how did you meet our good doctor?"
"I was wounded during Desert Storm and she put the pieces back together," Sam answered.
Melinda looked up and shock her head, "Still the queen of understatement and too damned modest. It earned you a Bronze Star with a Valor Device."
"You don't have to talk about it, Sam, if it brings back too many dark memories." Olivia was no expert on medals and commendations but she knew that Sam must have done something very brave, something exceptional to receive such a high decoration at such a young age.
"It's been a long time since I thought about it. It's alright.
"I was a fighter pilot during Desert Storm. My F17 was damaged during a mission and my back seat had been injured. We had to wait for a spare part and I was bored. The base CO called me in, at first I thought he wanted to berate me because I spent too much time at the pool table. Instead he asked me to volunteer for a mission as a substitute for the computer specialist of an infiltration unit. Time was of the essence and they couldn't wait for a replacement to be flown in. We were to retrieve some sensitive data. We ran into an ambush the moment we stepped into the compound we had been told would be empty and were taken prisoner. When we were freed four days later they brought us directly to the field hospital."
"In my experience being taken prisoner is not worth a Bronze Star," Olivia said though she had a pretty good idea what Sam was not telling her.
"The Iraqi soldiers beat us, tortured us. Their commander raped me but when his second-in-command tried to take his turn I got loose. I guess he thought that I was sufficiently broken and had my restraints removed. I killed him with the same knife he had used to mark me. I was able to free one of the other guys before the alarm was sounded. All of us got out and we also downloaded the files we needed. The seals sent in to get us out only had to pick us up and blow up the compound. We all got medals out of it, end of story."
Olivia looked at Sam with big dark eyes. She didn't know what to say, especially considering the matter of fact tone Sam had used, as if it had been just another day at the office.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"It's alright, Olivia. As I said, it's in the past. Mel helped me not to go insane while I was recuperating and during the weeks I was confined to desk duty."
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