"People tell me to be cautious,
People tell me not to lose my self control,
People tell me to be flawless,
People tell me not to let myself evolve."
"Congratulations Stillinski. I'm surprised you even made it in today."
"Please don't yell at me." Stiles managed to cover the entirety of his face with both hands, and it still wasn't enough.
"No ones ever drunk Ennis under the table before. You should be celebrating." He felt the hard pat on his back, and grunted in response. For the first time, he'd been invited out with his squad for a drink. Only his version of 'a drink' was distinctly different from there's. In his version it'd be one beer, maybe two if they felt like it and then they'd tap out. In their version, it was shots until you couldn't walk and then beer kegs Stiles still didn't know the origin of. Seriously where did they get beer kegs? He wanted them desperately to like him, so stupidly anything they asked of him he did. And that included picking up the tab. He'd be eating beans for weeks. On the plus side it seemed to have worked so far.
"Please let me on desk duty today." Stiles moaned from the sweater he was hiding under. Even though the dress code was business wear nobody actually paid attention to it.
"Sure, maybe you can actually make some progress on those files."
"They aren't files. It's just one massively oversized coaster for my coffee that you may be so kind to fetch."
"Nice try Stillinski." He didn't need to see Theo's face to know he was enjoying this. Bastard.
"What's wrong with him?" He could hear the shuffling of Clarke making her way over to him, "is he sick?" He was forced to raise his head when she began prodding his shoulder.
"More like hungover, guy really went for it last night." Theo lent on his palm looking at Stiles amused.
"I'll get you a coffee. You might wanna straighten up before the captain comes in." She gave him a sympathetic smile before walking into the direction of the coffee maker. Clarke was his favourite detective. She was assigned to the Copper Rose case at the same time as him, and was equally annoyed. The case was a dead end and had been for years. The girl just wasn't supposed to be found. They had practically nothing on her. Just speculation of different cold case homicides they could (if they stretched) link to her general vicinity. The captain had tried sending undercover cops in to at least get a glimpse of her, but they'd either come back empty handed or in a body bag. The girl didn't give any half measures.
He checked his phone and immediately turned the brightness down to as low as it could go. His head was pounding too much to debate whether having another load of aspirin an hour after the last would kill him. The brunette visibly perked up at the scent of coffee wafting up his nose. Clarke placed it on his desk and took her seat opposite him. He envied her lack of paperwork so much. The liquid was a little too hot to be drinking but he couldn't care less and drank as much as he could before it burned his tongue.
The conversations grew quickly around him. Brett arrived unusually late, but he didn't have the energy to comment on his tardiness. Captain Finstock was 15 minutes late as usual so he had time for an extra coffee. The noise in the precinct was extra loud today, and that wasn't just because of the rum. A guy a little older than Stiles was found dead last night in his home. The boy had a bullet wound just above his ear. Stiles had scanned the file right after his first coffee. This would be all they were focusing on for a while until they either figured it out or the case went cold. His money was on the latter. Bullet wound to the head at close range meant this was a professional hit, he wasn't killed - he was crossed off. People who did that never left traces, ever. Even if they had DNA, chances are it wouldn't be in the system.
"Stillinski, my office!" Finstock boomed across the squad room. As always he'd couldn't just politely ask, he had to yell as if Stiles wasn't a mere two metres away.
The boy mumbled cusses all the way to the door. The captain was sat at his desk, pen in one hand and stress ball in the other. "Morning, Cap." Stiles saluted him as he plopped into the leather seat opposite his superior.
"Do I look like Steve Rogers to you? Captain, OK? Or is that too much for your little brain to comprehend?"
"Sorry, Captain." Stiles rubbed his eyes, trying his best to wake up for this.
"Did you read the file on the dead boy?"
"The Whittmore kid? Yeah, but that was in Chicago, that's not our jurisdiction."
"I'm not asking you to investigate. They aren't gonna find anything anyway, we both know that."
"You think it's related to the Copper Rose case?" Stiles squinted, half in confusion, and half because the sun peeked out from behind a cloud.
"I looked into it, the guy was a street dealer until last November when we think he started climbing the ranks. Some money was transferred into his account, $200,000. It came from an off shore account, we can't trace it back, and I highly doubt we will."
"He was working for her. Probably means he was killed by her too."
"Probably." Finstock nodded along cautiously. "She's been out there for 7 years Stillinski. She's made us look like idiots from the start. We're no closer to figuring out who she is than we were 6 years ago."
"What do you expect us to do." Stiles squeezed his eyes shut. He was tired and in pain, and this pointless conversation was of no help. They'd had similar talks before and come to the same conclusion, they had to wait for a slip up. As of yet they'd been sitting ducks.
"I wanna send someone undercover."
Stiles raised his eyebrows in response. 5 detectives had gone undercover after Copper Rose. 2 had come back after a year with absolutely nothing. Apparently Copper Rose was nonexistent. The other two... One was found in a dumpster outside a Chinese restaurant. And the other was poisoned while he was at home. Both cruel and ruthless murders.
"Do you think we have a way in?" Stiles frowned at his Captain. Unless something had surfaced, undercover work was pointless.
"Some of the guys Jackson dealt with, Jacob Arith and Holly Underwood. They're still on the streets in Chicago and selling. They could be a way in."
"Sir, with all do respect, it seems like a reach. Even if these two would talk, there's no guarantee they know who Jackson's in was. And on the odd chance, they know and we find this other person, they're probably not gonna talk easy. And even after that there's gonna be other connections before we'd get even close to her. The only way this could be worth the risk is if it was a direct in. Anything else is just playing with fire."
"Stillinski, risk and reward remember." Finstock leant forwards on his desk and did that creepy eye contact thing. "If you wanna earn some respect around here, you've got to take some risks."
Stiles sighed and looked at his hands. His head was hurting too much to make such big life decisions. He needed to land some bigger cases if he wanted to become more essential in his team. Then again, Copper Rose wasn't just some bigger case. It was the biggest. At least behind terrorists and stuff. It was the biggest he could get his hands on. The pay off would be huge. But the risk of death is just as big. She could put him down before he even gets the chance to meet her. That is definitely an important aspect. If he got in with her gang, he might actually meet her. This mystery he's been reading about for the same amount of time a mother carries her child, longer in fact, could be in arms reach. He always pictured her with red hair, that's why she was known as Copper Rose, at least that's what he thought. He also pictured her as in her late 40s, 50s maybe. Sat in some big chair in an underground dungeon with men surrounding her looking stoic and untouchable. He didn't expect the reality to be the same. In fact he had an inkling it would be a man with a thick foreign accent that had been living in the Bahamas for the last year. Maybe he'd just never know.
"OK." Stiles winced as the word left his lips. He tasted a bitterness on his tongue.
"You need to know what you're getting into here Stillinski. You'll have a new identity, a new apartment, new clothes. If we're going to do this we want you to have the best chance possible. That means deep cover. Deep." He stretched the word out long enough for Stiles to fidget in his seat. "We're talking no contact for months. This goes down with the big guys and them only."
"I understand, sir." And he did. This was either the beginning of his career or the end of his life. Either way he didn't have that much to lose and he had so much to gain.
XxxxX
"You Holly?"
"That depends who's asking." The girl gave him a once over before returning her eyes to the road.
"I'm looking for someone I thought you might help." He pulled his black hoodie further around him.
"What's the name?" She kept her eyes firmly fixed on the road, but Stiles didn't let that deter him.
"Jackson."
"I don't know any Jacksons, sorry." She barely took a second to think.
"I think you do."
"You can think what ever you want."
Stiles could feel his hands start to shake in the cold, and he grew impatient. "He was doing business with someone. I need that persons name."
She took another hard look at him. He could see the word 'cop' blaring in her head with a question mark after it. Shit.
He could tell by the heavy bags under her eyes she was far from clean. Her hair looked knotty and was in a ponytail on the back of her head but slightly to the left. She had a cigarette hanging loosely from one hand and her lips were big and full. He reached into his pocket and felt around for the thing he knew he'd hate himself for. Her eyes zeroed in on the little white bag as soon as it entered her vision.
He closed his fist around it with a smirk, "I just need a name."
She sighed and looked away. "Scott, Mc-something. I don't know if he's who you're looking for but Jackson was, for months he looked for him."
She reached for his fist but Stiles drew it back quickly, "c'mon Holly, you can do better than that."
She scoffed and slipped her tongue out to wet her lip. She was about to cave, it was written all over her face. One, two and...
"Jackson said he tracked him to a bar in New York City. I think it was called Deaton's? Yeah. He went to NYC and we didn't hear from him until he was on the news last week. The fucking bitch killed him. I hope she rots in that cell, painfully."
He bit the inside of his cheek and released the packet into her hands. He'd made sure the amount was enough to pique her interest, but not enough to be fatal. Luckily it had worked.
Deep cover meant he had no contact with his partner or his colleagues. He had to figure this out on his own. The Internet was pretty much his only resource but it was enough to track down the dive bar Holly spoke about. There were three 'Deaton's bars' in the world. One in Japan, one in California and one in NYC. It wasn't hard to figure out.
XxxxX
The strong smell of marijuana was heavy in the room. A sickly sweet scent he wasn't as accustomed to as he maybe should be for this. He planted himself in a barstool up front. There weren't many people in, 3 heavily intoxicated and 5 slightly buzzed. One as high as a kite, but he ignored that.
He lent on the bar only to feel a stickiness and pull his hands away in disgust. What the hell had people spilt on this? Did they not clean the surfaces? Then again they were allowing people to smoke pot so who knows.
"You're not from around here, huh?" A deep voice addressed him from behind the bar. Stiles looked up to see the tanned man, probably in his forties laughing silently.
"No, not really." He wiped his hands on his jeans and noticed gum stuck to the wood.
"You just wanted make a pit stop or something?" Stiles ran his hands through his hair and took a glance around. No one was close, he doubted they were listening anyway.
"I'm looking for Scott."
"Scott..." The bartender bent down and picked up a beer from the fridge.
"Mc...um, crap." Stiles bit on his thumb in pretend concentration.
"I think I know who you're talking about. He's in the back, can I take a name?"
"Yeah, Stiles. He won't recognise it." The man nodded slowly before disappearing behind a door, leaving the beer in front of Stiles. He knew it was bad to drink on the job but he needed something to settle his nerves. He tipped it back and re-surveyed the room. There was a back door to his left and the toilets further round in that direction. This was always important in times like these.
After a few more minutes a young tanned boy emerged from the wooden doors. He was young, likely the same age as Stiles. He seemed pretty psyched to have a visitor and not at all annoyed or threatening looking.
"Hey dude, your Stiles right?" He hesitated over the word, trying it out for the first time.
"Yeah, you're Scott?" The conversation felt rigid, like a business conversation between two lawyers.
"You requested my presence." He could hear the irony in Scotts voice and laughed. This guy was alright.
"I need to talk about some business, can we go somewhere more private?" Scott looked him up and down intensely, like he was sizing him up for a fight.
"...OK." After a moment or two of awkward silence he agreed and Stiles followed him through the mysterious bar doors.
There was a narrow corridor that went along some stairs, at the bottom were two wooden doors both with locks. He was expecting to go upstairs or possibly into one of the rooms. But no. Scott stopped at the foot of the stairs and spun on his heel to look Stiles in the eye. He was a little startled at the sudden movement but managed to conceal it quickly.
"You wanna buy something?" Scott tilted his head curiously.
"Not exactly." Stiles let his eyes slip from Scotts to the door next to him.
"So what do you want?" He raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"More like who." Scott raised his eyebrows again. "You're boss, the redhead."
Scotts eyes narrowed instantly before he caught himself and visibly relaxed. It was only a split second but Stiles caught it. It was the hair reference. Risk and reward, right. "I don't know who you're referring to, do you have a name."
Stiles but his lip and looked away again. He knew that Scott knew he didn't know the person he was looking for, just knew of her, but he wouldn't let Scott use that. "Copper Rose? I believe that's what the kids are calling her these days."
Scott sighed and looked at his shoes then back up at Stiles. There was a finality in his voice when he spoke, "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm gonna ask you to leave now."
Stiles almost took a step back, almost. "I just wanna talk to her, you can kill me after if you think I'm a threat." He sounded desperate now. Scott was his only lead if this fell through he'd have to return to the precinct empty handed and the worst undercover cop they ever had.
"Get out of my bar." Scott enthused each word carefully.
"Please I ne-"
"Last chance."
Stiles saw the look of impatience in his eyes. He pursed his lips, him mum always did that when she had to admit defeat in a fight with his dad. He wasn't getting through to Scott. He started backing away quickly, "I'm gonna be back." He called when he was a good metre away. "I'm gonna keep coming back till you hear me out OK." He wanted to say more but he could've sworn he heard Scott growl.
XxxxX
Stiles shut the apartment door behind him. The car drive was tiring and coming back to an apartment he refused to think of as home was no kind of relief. Today hadn't been what he hoped. He didn't expect Scott to offer him a ride to her house or anything, but he expected something. A phone number, a person, a place. Anything that he could hold onto. He had every intention of driving back down again tomorrow and asking the exact same thing of Scott again. Maybe he could wear him down until he gave up.
Stiles approached his pin board solemnly. He set up the mystery boss at the top with a question mark. He used red string to join her to four other question marks below. Off of those 4 were two more red strings. These ones actually had names attached though. Erica was one and Scott another. He'd also connected Jackson to both of them and Holly to him. He'd hoped to have something else to add but this Scott may turn out to be a lost cause. Maybe he could use Erica. Find someone through her.
He would stay up to figure it out but he'd be getting nowhere. He had nothing to go on. So instead after a quick wash up he got a couple hours sleep.
XxxxX
Stiles was dreaming about his mum when a loud banging pulled him from his peace. Instinctively he reached under his pillow and pulled out his handgun. Being slightly unsure he tucked it into his waistband of the jeans he hadn't been bothered enough to change out of. Stiles approached the door slowly and pressed his face up to see who it was.
Scott.
Scott?
What the fuck? He moved his hand from his gun and quickly unlocked the door to let him in. He was slightly flustered and not really thinking about the fact that he last saw him was when he told him he refused to leave him alone until he was taken to his boss. Maybe Scott was here to kill him. Shit.
Stiles felt his hands clamming up and pretended to smooth down his bed worn t-shirt. Scott hadn't spoken a word, instead he strolled in and began wandering around his living room.
"Um, hi." Stiles tried, feeling incredibly out of place despite this being his territory. Scott was the intruder, not him.
The Latino (?) boy jumped the tiniest bit. Like he just forgot for a sec that Stiles was there. Stiles frowned at him for a moment before Scott noticed his board and he suddenly felt a whole new kind of nervous. The kind of nervous that brought his hand to rest on his gun lightly. "You've got quite the investigation here." Stiles swallowed. Did he sound...impressed?
He followed Scott's hand as it trailed over the two red strings from the top question mark, all the way down to his name.
"It's all just theorised." Stiles moved his hand back to his side.
"You think I'm two strings away?" Scott spoke with laughter on his tongue.
"Are there more?" He took an involuntary step towards the tanned boy. The desperation he felt seeped into his voice.
"Oh, you have no idea, Stiles." He felt taken aback at the name reference. Even more at his words. Perhaps the girl was more than she seemed. Maybe she didn't exist. Perhaps she wasn't a rose but a rose bush. More than one person working collectively. Stiles started feeling incredibly small in that moment. "Stiles? That's right isn't it?" Scott turned to face him again.
"Yeah..." The boy swallowed again.
"Stiles..."
"Billinski." Stiles finished for him.
"Stiles Billinski, you were born in California, went to public school, dropped out of high school, skipped college moved away from your family to New York, and then puff. You disappeared." Scott pointed at him accusingly.
"And yet here I am." Scott gave him a look which Stiles though seemed a lot like respect.
"You won't be here for long." Scott folded his hands behind his back like he'd rehearsed this a hundred times.
"What are you talking about?" Stiles felt his nerves doubling and his gun was burning a hole in is back.
"In about an hour, a car will pull up outside your house, you're going to get in it and do whatever he tells you to do, OK. It's gonna be a while so you don't wanna get on his bad side. That's a little tip from me." Scott winked as he headed for the door.
"Wait, what am I-?
"Just bring enough for a week, you'll be fine. I promise." Stiles sighed loudly as Scott opened the door and headed out.
He fucking hated undercover.
XxxxX
Exactly an hour later Stiles heard the rumblings of a car parking. Sure enough a black Chevrolet was pulled up outside his home. He glanced at the half assed duffel bag that probably didn't have his phone charger or his passport. Something wouldn't be there. He looked back at the car outside and headed down.
"You? You were in the bar?" Stiles pointed to the man in the drivers seat excitedly.
"Your very observant Stiles." The man's tone was just as rich as before. He climbed in, all legs and arms, and threw his bag into the backseats. Once the door was shut behind him the car started and they pulled out. "Now, I'm going to give you some tips for a healthy journey where no one ends up with a black eye, OK. My name is Chris, that's all you need to know. Right now we're driving into the city to see someone I'm told you really want to meet, you should take this time to prepare yourself. I hate small talk and when I get annoyed I get violent. And I love silence."
Stiles opened his mouth to reply, but decided against it and gave a firm nod instead. This was going to be a long car journey.
XxxxX
"Stiles." He was greeted by Scott as the car rolled to a stop. It was in an underground parking complex, and even though Stiles had never been this far east in the city before, he was pretty sure he could find it again.
"You gonna blindfold me now?" He took a long look around. The ceiling was high and there was nothing but flat concrete. No cars were parked here, which meant he was probably on private property. Scott seemed fairly casual in his cargo pants and tee. It was unnerving that nobody appeared to think it was as big of a deal as Stiles thought it was. If he met her, that meant he'd either take her down or she would him. There was no way she'd ever let him out alive and there was no way Stiles would ever let her get away from him, not when he was this close. She'd have to kill him.
"Nah, it'll be fine." Scott wafted his hand in mid air. "Follow me." Stiles gave one last look to the Chevrolet. Of course the car journey with Chris was easy, he didn't have to say a single word. This was different.
He trailed after Scott into a small white room with an elevator. He felt out of place on the tiles as Scott used his fingerprint to open the doors. Stiles felt his senses heightening, every nerve ending in his body was on high alert.
"Smile for the camera." Scott pointed to a small white lump in the wall. Now he saw it, there was a plastic semi sphere. He looked up at it for a while before coming to the conclusion someone was probably looking back. Mildly embarrassed, he drew his eyes away and followed Scott into the metal box. The boy watched the brunette type in four buttons on the keypad 0452. He had to remember that. They began moving up. He didn't know what floor they'd be coming to but Stiles suspected the top one. "I'm gonna warn you now, 'cause I'm a nice guy." Stiles' muscles tensed up and he quickly realised his gun was in his duffel which was in the car. "You might wanna prepare yourself. I wish someone would've told me that before I met her."
Stiles' gulp literally echoed round the elevator. Scott chuckled without an inch of shame. "I don't even know her name."
"Her name? It's Lydia."
XxxxX
So, I have so many ideas for this story and have pretty much planned out completely what's gonna happen. I'm way too excited for it which means I'm feeling pretty impatient and really wanna get into the plot. I love when writing things making the story really intricate and putting in lots of hints as to what will happen, and I love making it super unpredictable but realistic at the same time - so that's really what I'm going with for this story. There's gonna be quite a lot of mystery so please feel free to make predictions or whatever, I'd love to see what people are thinking. Thank youuuu for reading so far tho, comment and vote. Mwah ?
