Trust.
Chapter one
Alex looked up from the donut and coffee on her desk, to watch her partner striding down the hall towards her. She noticed that his features remained unshaven.
"Still can't find the razor?" She asked, licking donut sugar from her finger.
He smiled at her. "Very funny. Been here long?"
"Nope just got here, traffic was bad. Anything new?"
Goren eased himself leisurely into his chair opposite her. He opened his old leather folder and pulled out sheets of paper.
"I've got the account details of the night shift caretaker in that jewellery robbery."
Alex looked at him expectantly raising her eyebrows. "And…..?"
"There are no unusual amounts going in, but since the date of the robbery he hasn't taken anything out."
Alex stretched over between the desks and took the offered papers from him.
"Well that looks suspicious. Maybe he's stopped eating and drinking?" She analysed the account figures. "You know… cut his expenses."
Goren nodded. "More likely he is using the cash from the robbery to purchase things and has forgotten to keep his regular transactions going."
Alex looked up at him. "You know I didn't really mean it about the not eating and drinking part?"
Goren held out his hand, mutely requesting the papers back. Didn't reply to her rhetorical question.
Alex continued. "So now we'll need to have another talk with him."
Goren put the sheets back in his folder and nodded in agreement.
"Unfortunately, he is not answering his phone. We'll need to check out his home."
"Let's hope he hasn't migrated."
Goren smiled at that one. Eames was in a happy mood today.
As the detectives rose to leave, Captain Ross's voice called out to them from his office.
"Goren."
Alex watched Bobby as he hesitated, waiting.
"Eames." Goren turned towards Ross's office.
So both of them this time. She may have been an afterthought, but at least she was in.
Alex drank the last of her coffee and followed her partner.
As they entered the officer together Ross looked up from his work.
"Detectives." His gaze rested on Goren.
"Chief of D's has had a request for you to assist in an undercover operation." He cleared his throat. "Not you Eames, they only need Goren because he matches their err… requirements." He didn't want to offend Eames, but she couldn't be included in this one.
Goren didn't respond as he looked to his partner to see her reaction. He could see her rising anger.
"Exactly what requirements do they want?"
"They have an important deal going down tomorrow and one of the undercovers is in hospital with appendicitis. He is similar to Goren in appearance and they need an experienced backup." It had looked simple on paper. Telling them in person was an entirely different matter.
Ross could see Eames was annoyed, about to say something she may regret. She probably had the same fears that Ross had expressed to the Chief.
"Look, its only a couple days across town. There'll have to be some adjustments to Goren's appearance, but I don't see a huge problem."
And he decided to voice an idea that Goren should consider. "It would improve your reputation if you could help out."
Alex wasn't pleased.
"Bobby is not some sort of …some sort of 'thing' that can be picked up and used whenever …people think he might be useful. He's only just returned."
Ross actually agreed with her, but he had his own reasons for encouraging Goren to do this.
"The Chief would be very …grateful if you could help out, it would save weeks of work."
He could see Goren was processing the different scenarios in his head. He had still not spoken.
"Okay detective, this is totally your decision. I will not force you."
Goren looked at his partner. He wanted to convince her that these were fellow police officers who needed his help.
He could not refuse to help. He could never refuse to help.
"It's only a couple of days, Alex. Just one meeting and the follow up?" He looked to Ross for confirmation.
"Yes, that's all."
"It'll be fine, I'll help." He spoke to Ross, but he looked mainly at Alex.
She nodded her head as she tucked a wayward strand behind her ear. She had tried, but in the end she knew Goren was right. She selfishly wanted him to stay. Who could blame her?
She breathed deeply. "All right," She looked at her partner, then at the captain as she replied. "I can catch up some paperwork, find that caretaker. Maybe have a couple of days off."
Ross was relieved. "That's not a problem."
He preferred her to be out of the office rather than see her alone at her desk again.
"Goren, I want you to contact Captain Jones on this number to discuss what you need to do."
Goren nodded solemnly as he took the slip of paper. "Okay."
There was nothing more to say, the two detectives turned to leave.
"And detective," Goren and Eames both turned in the doorway, "be careful"
Goren nodded in reply.
As they sat back at the desks, the playful moments of before were totally gone.
"I'm sorry, Eames."
"It's okay. I needed to do some Christmas shopping anyway."
They both knew she didn't.
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Goren entered a diner where he had arranged to meet his new 'team'. His hair had been closely cropped. What had existed of his beard had been trimmed to a goatee. He wore black. Coat, pants, socks, shirt. Everything black. He was working with two other undercover police who had built up their characters over the last three months, Dempster and Campesi. This deal was going to be the culmination of weeks of hard work. "Davo' had fallen ill at the worst time and they were very pleased to see Goren.
They shook his hand warmly as they expressed their gratitude.
"You look perfect. More like 'Davo' than 'Davo' does."
Campesi agreed.
"You have saved us from ruining a lot of work. We have finally been able to arrange a meeting with a drug lord. You will fit Davo's profile exactly. No one has met Davo up close yet, just be quiet and mean (You can do mean, right?)"
Goren nodded.
"No problem."
They felt confident. They had heard of Goren's reputation. Crazy but ethical. He would be perfect.
Goren gazed calmly back at the two undercover cops. They looked so young. He suddenly felt too old to be doing this type of work. He shook off his misgivings, this should be easy…old or not. However he liked to be prepared for these sorts of undercover jobs.
"Any problem if I make a pre visit tonight, become familiar with the place?"
"Unusual, but not a problem."
They appreciated the effort he was making. Davis punched Goren in the arm.
"Have fun." (He meant be careful).
"Always do."
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Goren drove to the nightclub. He drove badly enough to fit the role of an arrogant drug dealer. He parked the car arrogantly at angle to the gutter. Got out of the car and scanned the area for trouble.
He entered the night club without any problems and found a seat in the corner.
Melted into the background as he nursed his drinks and watched the crowd. Eventually he was ignored.
After a few hours Goren felt comfortable with the deal, nothing unusual here. He didn't like coming in at the end of these sorts of deals. To many things could go wrong.
He had learnt caution.
One last thing he wanted to check on the way out was a side passage beside the bar near the entrance.
Befor he mad his move he reached in to his shirt pocket and adjusted his phone and pen. He wandered down the passage slowly, mumbling softly to himself. As he passed a door, it opened slightly and a face peered out at him. Goren looked up. "Hey man is that the toilet? Can't find the damn thing."
"Wrong place moron, go back and behind the DJ."
The door closed and Goren started to turn away without looking suspicious.
He knew that face. That voice.
But it was too late.
The door opened and a figure with a gun walked out and pointed at Goren and then towards the door.
"In, quick."
Goren entered. A small man wearing glasses sat at a large table counting and piling money. He looked up as Goren entered. The counting man paused in his actions and waited.
The man with the gun followed Goren in. He shut the door looas he looked at the detective in surprise.
He turned briefly to the smaller man."Jones, take a toilet break." The counting man hesitated.
"Now."
Jones left.
"Goren, what are you doing here?"
"Probably the same as you, Turner."
They stared at each other. Turner tried to remember just what Goren might know. Goren had a fantastic memory.
He stared at the large man in black…thinking…waiting.
"Undercover?"
Goren nodded. "I should really go…"
Turner knew Goren would remember he had nearly been dismissed for improper actions in the recent undercover they had both been involved in. Goren would know Turner was on suspension.
Turner held his gun up high, pointed straight at Goren's chest.
"I don't think so."
Turner couldn't risk it.
Goren raised his hands slowly to waist height. He stood next to the table and chairs. He lowered his gaze to the floor. Tried to be passive.
"Turner, you have nothing to worry about. I'm not here for you."
Turner froze.
Goren lowered his hands slowly, one hand came to rest on the back of a wooden chair.
"Nope, I know you. Now you know I am dirty, there is no way you won't go back and tell someone I'm counting drug money on the side. You can't help your self. Get your hands back up." He sneered.
Goren knew his choices were limited.
"Okay, okay," and as he raised his hands, Goren dragged the chair up in his left hand and smashed it into Turner's arm.
The gun fired wildly and the impact of the chair caused Turner to fall to the ground hitting his head with a sickening thud against the floor.
Turner was dazed and took a some moments to recover. When he looked up the door was open and Goren was gone. A trail of blood led towards the front entrance.
Goren felt the impact of the chair as it connected with Turner's arm. Heard the shot, felt the sharp pain in his right upper arm. He ignored it. He had no time to waste. No time for surrendering to pain. He focussed on Turner. That was were the danger would come.
Turner had gone down hitting his head hard against the floor and appeared dazed. Goren didn't hesitate; the shot would have been heard. He left and walked quickly down the hall. Two beefy types came running towards him.
"Hurry, there's a crazy guy in there with a gun." Goren pointed down the hall with his good arm.
They looked at him, recognised him as the guy who had quietly sat in the bar for the last few hours. Decided he wasn't a threat and rushed passed him. It was a mistake they would regret. In their haste they did not see the blood seeping through Goren's black coat, down his fingers and marking the floor in dark red.
Goren walked steadily out the front door and hesitated. It was dark, a few feeble street lights struggled to push back the darkness. Goren gripped his arm tightly trying to stem the tell tale blood flow that was leaving a trail on the ground.
He was alone. No back up. No Eames. Nothing. They would find him easily and soon. There was no one at hand he could trust, except himself.
He had an idea. He released his tight grip on his bleeding arm and let the blood flow freely. Pain flared up and down the length of his arm. This was going to be risky, but he couldn't think of anything else.
Goren tried to walk calmly and evenly down the foot path trying not to attract attention to himself.
Two doors down was an alley. He turned into it and stopped, hid against the darkly shadowed and stained brick walls.
He turned up the collar of his coat, gripped his bleeding arm tightly to stop the blood. No time for something better. He took a deep breath and calmly walked back the way he had come.
Past one door.
Past another door.
As he approached the door to the club, he heard raised voices, running feet. He kept his head down, tried to shrink his large frame into a slouch and kept walking. Perhaps a little faster than he should have.
He walked past the door.
A few seconds later he heard the door open with a bang. He prepared to run, to yell, anything. He didn't hold much hope his plan would work.
"There… there…. you idiots follow the blood. He can't be far."
Goren didn't even turn around. He couldn't believe his feeble plan had actually worked, but he wasn't going to get far. He needed to hide…fast. Turned into the next alley and then the next, trying to lose himself in the maze behind some shopfronts. A row of dumpsters emerged on the left, in the darkness under a stairwell. The alley was quiet, empty. Goren lifted the lid on the last one and looked inside. Cardboard boxes bags and general garbage filled it half way.
With a supreme effort he lifted himself over the lid, stifling his groan of pain. At the top he waited. He was confident that the shadows of the buildings hid him from any prying eyes and he could see no-one. He stepped into the dumpster, dropped the lid silently above him and burrowed underneath. He lifted boxes and garbage over his clothes and dug his feet further in…. nothing could show.
Then he waited.
In the quiet of the bin he used his handkerchief to bandage his wound tightly. He was confident the bullet had gone through muscle in his upper arm, but he could still bleed out. Eventually the bleeding stopped under his awkwardly tied cloth. He covered his mouth with the coat lapels and lay still. Ears ached trying to hear sounds of pursuit. He closed his eyes and tried to breath through the pain that blossomed in his arm.
He had promised himself he wouldn't go solo again.
Why didn't he listen?
He needed Eames, but couldn't risk calling her right now. Damn.
He reached for his police issue phone and turned it off. Couldn't risk any noise.
He stilled knowing he had now done all he could to save his life.
The odds of meeting crooked cops who knew him seemed to be increasing lately. Goren felt suddenly very tired of it all. He wondered what Eames would be doing now. Thought of her sitting at her desk typing out reports. The familiar image comforted him. He eased his head back onto some unidentified lump behind his head and closed his eyes.
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Alex glanced over at her partner's desk. It was empty.
The familiar lonely image did not comfort her at all.
She sighed and pushed her hair aside as she looked towards the captain's office. His head was down. Time to go home. Alex packed away her work, purposefully not looking at where her partner would normally be. He would be back soon.
Alex turned to walk towards the lift and then sighed again. Why not?
She walked back over to the Captain's office and knocked quietly.
Ross looked up to see a lone detective staring at him. She opened her mouth to speak.
"Detective, I haven't heard anything. No news is good news. You know what undercover is like."
"Yes sir. Thanks." She paused. "Look, I'm up to date out here. Goren won't be back for a few days and I was wondering if I could take tomorrow off for some early Christmas shopping." She stopped. She had done it. Asked for time off. Didn't tell Ross she was sick of looking at Goren's empty desk.
"No problem. Look, take two days if you like, just let me know."
Alex nodded her head gratefully. "Thanks, goodnight." After a small smile of gratitude, she left. Ross stared after her thoughtfully. Detectives shouldn't work alone.
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Goren woke to a loud noise and a heavy weight landing on his chest. His arm felt on fire. He struggled to understand where he was, how he got here, and what in the world was that God awful smell?
Opening his eyes and seeing garbage above his head helped solve the puzzle. Then the clanging bang of the dumpster lid falling, bought all his senses alert.
He waited until all noise outside had ceased. Stiffly worked his body above some of the rubbish and lifted the lid cautiously. The faint light of dawn outlined the small alley in which he had taken refuge.
The resounding thud of a door closing travelled towards him and then the alley was empty again.
Goren lifted the lid fully, but as he stood he became dizzy and grabbed the metal side of the dumpster for support. He waited for his head to stop spinning. Blood loss. It was clear that he had lost a lot of blood. One side of his coat was damp and sticky from his slowly bleeding wound.
He couldn't stay here. Every second he waited was incredibly dangerous.
A bent cop would come after him. Especially one with who had nothing to lose.
Goren threw the police issue phone in the bin. It would be easily traced and all calls were recorded. It was worthless to him.
He started walking. As the sun broke over the horizon he found a pay phone.
He entered the booth and leaned heavily against the wall. Wall was good, it didn't move.
He knew it was early, but he also knew a lot of mobile phone numbers.
"Captain, it's Goren. Look, undercover's off. I've been recognised by a crooked cop but couldn't pull it off. Let the drug squad know. Get them to delay. I haven't been linked with them yet, but they need to hold off." He breathed heavily into the phone.
"Goren are you all right?"
"The cop and his friends are searching for me." He paused; eyes searched the empty streets for danger.
"I can't come in yet, too dangerous, for me and anyone I come in contact with."
"I'll come …….."
"No, you might be watched. When Eames comes in…."
"She's not coming in today."
Silence.
Think Goren, think.
"I'll call her. I'll contact you when I can."
"But she will be watched as well." Ross tried getting Goren to slow down.
"I can deal with that."
He rung off.
Ross but the phone down and pondered the impact of that call. Why call Eames? They may all be under surveillance. Goren was an enigma.
Damn, he had had a bad feeling about this one. Ross decided to keep a low profile, but he needed to tell someone. He picked up the phone. Surely IAB were safe.
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Alex was chasing a suspect through an alley, shots were fired towards her and she threw herself against a wall to get out of the line of fire. Where was her back up? She glanced around the side of the dumpster she was hidden behind. The alley was empty; a large pool of blood slowly spread into the middle of the alley. She traced the trail of blood back to the source. It was coming from her. Had she been shot? How could you not feel that?
But then she noticed that the blood was actually seeping from the bottom of the dumpster. She felt that familiar sick feeling wave over her at the thought of what might be in that dumpster. The metal bin started to vibrate near her head and she reached up to try and stop the vibrations from reaching inside her brain. Her hand hit a solid object and she recognised it as her phone ringing, vibrating.
The alley was not real. She was momentarily grateful. Nasty dream.
"Hello?" Her voice was rough from sleep.
"Eames, I need your help."
She opened her eyes.
Early morning and a call from Goren. Not good.
"Are you okay?"
He sounded breathless. Had he been running?
"I need that doctor you know from vice to help treat a gunshot wound. Can you bring her to this address in an hour or so? I'm not there yet."
A rush of adrenalin through her body instantly alerted all her senses.
He had refused to give details, so Alex immediately assumed it was Goren who was injured.
"I'll be there as soon as I can. "
"Eames?"
"Yep."
"You may be followed…………be careful."
He hung up.
Alex immediately scrolled through her contacts and rang a number she hadn't used for a while.
"Sam? It's Alex. I need you immediately"
"Gun shot wound; I'll pick you up in 45min."
A small electronic voice could be heard responding.
"Thanks."
Alex jumped out of bed, totally awake. A coffee rush without the coffee.
In ten minutes she was out the front door and casually strolling down her steps as though she was planning an easy day shopping. As she flicked her hair from her face she saw the car in her peripheral vision. She hid her interest behind her sunglasses. The car had dark, tinted windows. She had never seen it in this neighbourhood before, maybe it was a visitor. It was only just in sight down the street.
Damn it Bobby, what have you done?
She opened the car door and drove away from her home. At a distance the black car tailed her slowly.
She ignored it. Knew what she had to do now.
Alex spoke into her phone awkwardly as she drove."Beck. Look I know its one hour too early. I need you now."
"Get to the shops and meet me at toy store entrance in twenty minutes." She listened.
"You can do it. Please, this is really important. I'll explain when I get there. Bring your old car; I'm going to borrow it."
Alex hung up and glanced in her mirror. An icy coldness spread from the centre of her chest and settled in her whole body.
This would work, it had too.
Within forty minutes Alex had met her friend Beck at the shops. They pretended to go to the movies where, as a precaution, Alex changed her clothes. She then left in baseball cap, tracksuit pants, joggers, ponytail and college backpack. Just your regular university student. Alex moved through the early morning crowd, fairly confident she had lost her tail.
Within another ten minutes she had driven through a suburban street in Beck's battered old Toyota and parked in a gas station. She walked casually to the shop for a coffee. When she returned to the car a tall Hispanic woman was sitting calmly in the passenger seat. She was casually clothed with dark glasses, a beanie and was gripping a large sports bag.
"Well detective, long time no see." She smiled at Alex grimly.
"Sam. I appreciate it. Have you got your things?"
"Yes. Is this a prostitute in trouble?"
"No. It's worse." Alex gave her half a smile as they drove off.
TBC.