So, this has sat on my computer for awhile. I worked on it here and there, never thinking it would actually get finished. I wanted the ending to be kinda open-ended, but I think it just turned out weak . . .
Warning: Slight gore and general icky stuff
Ryan Wolfe stamped his feet and pulled his coat around him tighter. If he had to list the things he had missed least about Chicago, the winter weather would probably be in the top three. He didn't miss the biting cold or the frigid wind that was able to seep through multiple layers of clothing. He didn't miss donning hats, gloves, and scarves, praying that the temperature would stay above zero for at least a few hours. And he definitely didn't miss the snow, sleet, and slush that filled the streets and air without a moment's notice.
Heaving a sigh, he shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping to regain some feeling in his fingers. Finally, the vendor handed over two steaming cups of coffee. Ryan took them with a grateful smile, but the gesture was masked by his thick scarf. He handed over a few bills and told the man to keep the change. Pulling his cap a bit tighter over his ears, Ryan made his way through the steady, lazy snow that had been falling most of the afternoon.
He hurried to a black car sitting across the street. He slid into the passenger seat, reveling in the warmth that greeted him. From the driver's side, green eyes peered at him from underneath a mop of unruly dark curls and a knit cap. "You are my hero," the woman said, grabbing her cup and taking a deep gulp of the heated liquid. "Mmm, it almost stayed hot this time."
Ryan grinned as he took a drink of his own rapidly cooling coffee. He had really lucked out, getting partnered with Morgan Alverez. A California native, she shared Ryan's appreciation for warm weather and sun. Roughly the same age, they had bonded fast. After Miami, Ryan had a new-found gratitude for being accepted by a new co-worker.
"Anything happen while I was gone?" he asked, motioning towards the building further up the street. Morgan shook her head.
"No sign of the link or a likely target." She wrapped her hands, now un-gloved, around her cup, hoping to catch the bits of warmth seeping through the Styrofoam. "Think we should call it quits and go back to HQ?"
"Yeah. Maybe Carl or Jackson'll have more information for us by now."
Morgan made sound of disbelief as she started up the vehicle. "At this point," she murmured under her breath, "I'd settle for a name. I hate getting the wild goose chase."
It was an odd feeling, walking back into the renovated subway station under the Golden Eagle dry cleaners. Even after a few months back, Ryan still got a sense of déjà vu. He still had to remind himself sometimes to go to the detective desks, not his old haunt amid the computers and reference material.
He was shocked the first time he walked back to Special Unit 2. Part of him expected things to be exactly the same as when he left; he was surprised to see a skinny, barely-out-of-his-teens guy manning his old job. He watched in morbid fascination as the kid prattled off information about a Link. Kate, her hair now cut in a short bob, listened intently and tried to make Nick do the same. Between them, a short woman with dark curls listened, but seemed not to know whether to be awed or overwhelmed. She settled for the latter as Carl sidled up beside her. Definitely new, he had thought.
Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the door marked CAPTAIN RICHARD PAGE. He felt the old intimidation building up and hoped could hold it together. The last thing he needed was to embarrass himself in front of the Captain the way he used to do. One short knock and a bellowed 'Come in!' later, Ryan found himself face to face with his old employer. "Captain Page, sir."
The man looked up, a few more wrinkles and gray hairs than Ryan remembered. "Well, well, well . . . Jonathan Wolfe. Or should I say Ryan?" He added with a slight smirk. He motioned for the younger man to sit down and held up the file he had been reading – Ryan's file. "Seems you've had quite the resume since you left us."
"Uh, yeah. After Special Unit 2, I wanted to stick with police work, but I wasn't sure what type I wanted to be involved in." He gave a weak smile. "I guess I was just meant to be at the detective end. That's how I ended up a CSI."
"And you're coming back to Chicago and SU2 because of your recent termination."
Ryan winced at Page's bluntness. "I - . . . I made a stupid mistake, Captain. I was just looking for some stress release, then . . . When I tried to fix it, everything blew up in my face." His gaze moved to his feet, the events were still recent and raw. "I just want another chance somewhere. I'd even be willing to take back my old tech job."
Page nodded. "Hmm. Well, I'm afraid that your old position has been filled for quite some time. Jackson is working out well." He paused a moment as Ryan's face fell. "But I might have a detective position open, if you'd be interested."
Ryan looked up, disbelief and hope mingling on his face. "Seriously?"
The Captain nodded. "It's just been O'Malley and Benson for years now. I figured the Unit could do with some new blood. I hired a young woman last week; I think a partner is just what she needs to help her settle in here."
"You don't mind that I was- . . . I mean, I . . ."
"You remind of someone else who worked here," the Captain said. "No matter how . . . annoying he seemed at times, he showed a lot of potential." He gave Ryan a pointed look. "And I think he still does."
"Thank you, sir." Ryan said with a smile. He stood up and shook the Captain's hand.
The older man's face remained stern. "Just remember: If you ever need anything – and I mean anything – you come to us. Don't try to deal with it all by yourself."
Ryan nodded. "Fair enough." He turned to leave.
"One more thing." Ryan looked back. "Welcome back, Wolfe." Ryan grinned and made his way out of the office.
Sliding back into SU2's routine was ridiculously easy. Sure he received some ribbing, from Carl and Nick in particular, about how he had changed, but he took it all in stride. He surprised himself with how much Link knowledge he had retained over the years. Morgan had a patrol background just like Ryan, so together they made a great team.
Jackson wasn't around when they arrived, so they bypassed the computer area in favor of the detective desks. Nick and Kate were already there, chatting idly.
Ryan settled at his desk, listening to Nick and Morgan exchanging teasing barbs about their respective cases. Kate sat beside him and passed him a fresh cup of coffee. He accepted it with a grateful smile.
Ryan couldn't think of a time in Miami that he had felt so comfortable at work. For the last few months, he dreaded going to lab. Now he found himself looking forward to work again.
Eventually, Jackson wandered out of the Captain's office, Page not far behind him. The pair made their way over to the group of detectives, a thick file clasped in Jackson's hand.
"Alright team," the Captain began as he situated himself at an empty desk, "where are we on our cases?"
"We just finished up, sir," Nick said, sending a smirk in Morgan's direction. "The link is in custody, just picked him up a few hours ago."
"Good. Alverez?"
"It's stalled, Captain. We can't get a clear idea of what we're looking for, so we can't be sure we're watching for the right targets. Until we get some more information out of one of the leads, we're at a dead end."
Page nodded. "Maybe it's time for some fresh eyes, then."
"Sir?"
"We've been tracking a possible link in Miami. You and Wolfe will check into it, while O'Malley and Benson take over your case."
Morgan's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Why do we need to take care of a link in Miami? Can't their Unit handle it?"
"Miami doesn't have a Special Unit 2." Ryan felt all eyes gravitate towards him and he squirmed a bit at the sense of déjà vu. "When I first moved there, I checked into a transfer."
"I thought most major cities had a SU branch," Kate said. "Why not Miami?"
"Climate mostly. Most links can't tolerate it. And some just can't stand all the tourists and snowbirds." Ryan looked at his boss. "What're we tracking in Miami?"
At this question, Jackson sat up straighter in his chair and pushed some stringy blond hair from his face. "Harpies. Well, one Harpy as far as we know."
"What's a Harpy?" Morgan asked.
"Well in Greek mythology, they had the body and speed of a bird, but the head of an old lady. Pretty ugly, too. They supposedly snatched people with their claws and took them to the underworld, leaving behind a nasty smell. About twenty years ago, SU2 caught some in Chicago and found out that the Harpies disguise themselves as a beautiful man or woman to lure their victim, then they eat their victim and the smell is from . . . what's left."
Kate raised an eyebrow. "What's left?"
"Uh . . . Harpy excrement. Basically, they puke the victim's bodily fluids after eating."
"Charming," Morgan muttered in Ryan direction.
"I could think of a few better words," he replied.
"So," the Captain broke in, "are you two up for it?" After sharing a look, they nodded. "Alright then. Best get home and pack – you leave tonight."
Ryan, who had been studying the file, looked up in surprise. "Wait – we're actually going to Miami?"
"Of course. Also, I want you to run liaison with the local police department. Hopefully they'll be more cooperative with a familiar face."
"Yes, sir." Inside, he let out a frustrated scream.
Morgan stopped on the steps of the Miami-Dade crime lab, shielding her eyes to study the building. She took her time, enjoying the feel of the warm Miami sun soaking into her skin. A content smile played at her lips. She sensed, rather than saw, Ryan step up beside her.
"Thawed yet?"
She wiggled her toes in her shoes. "Just about." She turned towards him, her hand dropping from her face. "Impressive building. Must've been nice to work here."
He shrugged. "It had its moments." His gaze wandered over the glass-walled floors. "Despite what happened, it was hard to leave."
"I'll bet. What's on your mind?"
"I had to leave because I was lying to these guys." He gave a sad smile. "Now I'm back to do it again."
"You know you can't tell them the truth. It's safer for them if they don't know." She reached down and gave his hand a brief, reassuring squeeze. "C'mon. It's time to face the music."
Horatio Caine sat at the conference table, twirling his sunglasses. He was flanked by Eric and Calleigh, the latter's face carefully blank and the former's filled with guarded curiosity. Placing his glasses carefully on the table, Horatio looked across at his guests. "Let me get this straight: You two are tracking a killer from Chicago and you want me to hand over my case files and just stand aside while you run around Miami to catch him?"
Ryan cast a desperate glance at Morgan. With an internal sigh, she sat forward. "It's not quite as cut and dry as you make it seem, Lieutenant. Special Unit 2's operations are extremely classified. Local PDs, including our own Chicago PD, only have clearance for the need-to-know details of our cases."
Ryan laid out a file that Jackson had doctored up for them. "We believe the suspect is an escalating serial killer."
Calleigh peered closer at the fake crime scene photos. "We haven't had any unsolved cases with brutalized bodies like this."
"But you do have some recent unsolved cases?" Morgan prodded. "Little of the body is left, correct?"
"I just worked one with Alexx this morning," Eric said. "How'd you know that?"
"Jackson, our . . ." Ryan paused momentarily, "profiler, believes that the killer is cannibalizing the bodies. He predicted that by now the killer would be leaving behind little more than a blood pool and some innards." He locked eyes with Horatio, trying not the break contact with the piercing blue eyes. Even now, he felt as if they could see right through his lies.
Eric, on the other hand, laughed. "A cannibal? Seriously?"
"Actually, they could be right." Calleigh glanced across the table. "A last week back, Alexx and I were processing a murder at the Bal Harbour Marina. Even at the time, it felt like the killer got interrupted and left half-way through. Along with some sharp force trauma, we found some bite marks. We weren't able to match them to any animal at the time; I never thought to compare them to a human."
Horatio steepled his hands and kept his gaze on Ryan. "Eric, your scene this morning. It was on a dock at Bal Harbour, was it not?"
He nodded. "Yeah, actually, it was."
Morgan and Ryan exchanged looks and she leaned towards him. "Jackson said modern Harpies prefer to hunt by water," she muttered.
"The Marina has to be its hunting ground." They both straightened up and Ryan took a deep breath. "We really appreciate you sharing this information with us. I think we have enough to get him tonight. All we're asking of you, is too keep the Marina free of civilians tonight."
"And what, you two are going to set a trap?" Eric scoffed. "Something like that takes more manpower."
"I assure you," Morgan replied heatedly, "we know what we're doing. Agent Wolfe and I are trained to handle this type of situation."
"Be that as it may, I'd still like at least one member of my team present," Horatio said.
"Okay." Morgan shot Ryan a look. She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to silence her. "I'll tell you what: I will call my Captain and see if we can come to some kind of middle ground. Until then, your only concern is keeping the perimeter clear."
"Very well then, Mister Wolfe." Horatio held out his hand. "You have a deal."
"I cannot believe this." Morgan leaned against a post, pulling the collar of her coat up. "How in the hell did you get the Captain to agree to a dumbass idea like this?" She shifted again, with the slightest glint of silver as the moonlight hit the gun concealed underneath her clothing. "He doesn't even have any kind of clearance!"
"Y'know, I can hear everything you say." Eric's hostility carried easily through the earpiece.
"So? I'm the one putting myself up as bait. I think I deserve to vent a little."
"Would you both just shut up?" Ryan ground out. He shot a glare at Eric, who was crouched next to in the shadows of the warehouse. "We supposed to be quiet, remember?"
There was silence for a bit as Morgan continued to pace by the water.
"Hey, Ryan, you hear something?" Eric whispered.
He listened, and then there it was: a slight woosh and a flutter. "It sounds like . . . wings. It's behind us." Ryan whipped around just as the Harpy swooped down. He dove out of the way, grabbing Eric's arm on the way down.
"What the hell was that?!"
Ryan ignored Eric's panicked questions and shouted into the communicator. "It's here, Morgan! Get over here, NOW!"
He stood, pulling Eric along with him. They both fired several times, but the bullets just pinged off the Harpy's feathers. "Damn it, it's like armor!" The Link let out a loud screech before diving at breakneck speed at the two men.
"Run, Eric!"
They took off in the opposite direction. Morgan waved them towards a dumpster near another warehouse. They were nearly there when it swooped down on them again. Ryan fell to his knees, feeling Eric fall beside him, as Morgan fired at the Link over their heads.
As the Harpy flew back up to repeat it's dive, Ryan scrambled to his feet and sprinted towards the dumpster. Morgan yelled his name and pointed over his shoulder. He turned to see Eric still on his knees, clutching a bleeding shoulder. Yelling in frustration, he turned back. He hauled his former co-worker to his feet and raced to the dumpster.
He slid into the small space between the dumpster and the warehouse wall. The two of them settled Eric against the dumpster. "What the hell is that thing?" he asked between gasps of pain.
"That's classified information," Ryan quipped as he peeked around the corner, firing off several shots.
"I knew it was a bad idea to bring him." Morgan yanked off her jacket and pressed it to Eric's bleeding shoulder. "It's shallow. You should be fine." One of Ryan's shots connected, but the Harpy just growled in frustration and clawed at the dumpster. "You said they don't go after groups!"
"They usually don't!"
"And naturally we find the exception to the fact!"
There was a deafening thud and the dumpster slid a few inches closer to the wall. Morgan tossed aside the standard issue gun that the MDPD had lent her and pulled out two SU2 blasters. She held one out to Ryan who gladly accepted it. "On three?"
"On three."
"One . . . two . . . THREE!"
They both leapt from their hiding spot, firing off several shots at the Link. One connected with its head and with a piercing screech, the Harpy fell to the ground.
Eric staggered out from behind the dumpster. "Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on?"
Morgan smiled. "Don't worry about it. After the hospital puts you pain pills, you're going to think this is all a delusion anyway."
Captain Page finished reading Ryan's report and leaned back in his chair. "Not bad. Not bad at all."
"Thank you, sir."
"And the Miami-Dade police . . . ?"
"Believe we wanted our ME to do the autopsy, which is why we shipped the body to Chicago right away."
"And Detective Delko?"
"He got put on strong pain medication. He doesn't remember much about that night."
The Captain regarded him critically. "How was it being back in Miami?"
"It . . . it answered a lot of questions, sir. I know where I belong now."
"Really."
"Yeah," he said with a smile. "I do."
