Chapter 2: Handling the Situation
Captain Adam Fuller was attempting to make a dent in the mound of paper work littering his desk when there was a knock on his office door.
"Come in," he said his head buried in a report. He didn't look up right away because whichever Jump Street officer entered would begin talking as soon as they stepped over the threshold. The drawn out pause and the casual throat clearing grabbed his attention causing him to raise his eyes.
Federal Agent Spencer Phillips stood just inside the door. Fuller was surprised to say the least. The last case he'd seen Phillips on was a kidnapping a couple of months ago.
"Captain Fuller," Phillips noted brusquely.
"Agent Phillips," returned Fuller his demeanor not exactly welcoming. "How may I help you?"
Phillips closed the door and walked over to Adam's desk. He handed over a case file and took the liberty of taking a chair. Fuller frowned briefly at the man then began reading.
Upon seeing F.B.I. Agent Phillips Fuller understood the unspoken rule of no details or talking, however the case file served only to confuse him.
"I don't understand." He allowed a pause to offer the man sitting opposite him a chance to speak. Nothing. "What does this have to do with Jump Street?" he asked bluntly placing the file on his crowded desk.
The case he'd read concerned a teenage girl named Jessica Reynolds who was at the local hospital. The file had scarce details on what had happened to the girl. Lacking real information Adam did not particularly see why Phillips was bringing him this case. If there was even a case here, and normally major crimes would investigate first.
When no further answers or explanations were forthcoming Fuller's patience began to thin. "Why would the chief send us something like this?" he waved his hand over the folder.
"He didn't," F.B.I. Agent Phillips commented. Shaking his head Adam was fast losing his tolerance for the insolent F.B.I. agent. "Have you heard of the Sullivan case?" Sighing heavily Phillips reluctantly handed over another case file. He then leaned back and settled his hands in his lap to await the other man.
"Yes, I've seen it on the news," commented Adam taking the other folder with some trepidation. He flipped through it as the Sullivan crime was laid out before him in ghastly detail including the crime scene photographs.
"Were they one of yours?" asked Adam interpreting the victims as witness protection. It would explain the brutality of the attack.
"Not that I'm aware of."
Puzzled Fuller glanced up from the initial reports. He credited himself to be a reasonably intelligent man, but this whole encounter left him bewildered. "Then why the interest?"
Phillips frowned. Under the forced bland exterior he was anxious about this meeting. He still wasn't a hundred percent certain this was the best alternative, but honestly he didn't have much of a choice. Ever since that night his usual motives for decisions had been skewed altering his normal course of action.
"The Reynolds case and the Sullivan case are related," he said.
"What does the Reynolds girl have to do with Sullivan? Was she a witness or..." his words drifted off.
"We don't know yet. We haven't been able to question her."
"Then how do you know it's related?" he snapped. He hadn't meant to, but the reins on his temper loosened. This man came into his office without first informing the chief and then presented him with a confusing mess of mumbo jumbo.
"All right. What I am about to tell you is classified and it cannot be repeated," he turned a stern look toward Adam. "It started with..."
Federal Agent Spencer Phillips careened around the curve coming to a screeching halt in front of the modest suburban home. Red and blue lights lit the area as men in uniform loitered.
The neighbors were staring curiously out of their windows surprisingly no one had braved the cold night air to watch any closer. Shaking his head he muttered under his breath as he flashed his identification to go under the police tape.
"Agent Williams?" he asked brusquely of the officer stationed at the front door.
"Right here," Williams interjected stepping outside.
"One of ours?" questioned Phillips.
"Not sure."
"Then why am I here?" his impatience firming his tone.
"Does the name Randall Sullivan mean anything to you, sir?"
"Oh shit. How bad?"
"It's bad," the other agent said pointedly.
"What happened?" He rushed into the house to inspect the damage. A trail of bloody footprints led him into the family room, but there were no bodies. Over turned furniture, rope, and blood littered the room making his stomach churn.
"Where?" he demanded.
"Down the hall in the bedroom," Williams indicated the direction his skin paling taking on a greenish tint. Looking up he saw his superior's face harden the only show of emotion.
Blood smears led the way. Phillips followed them at a brisk pace forcing his mind blank to take in the scene. Bile rose in his throat upon surveying the crime scene.
Two bodies were on the floor in front of a closet. There was another on the bed.
"What have you got?"
"Three bodies, those two are the parents; the one on the bed is the daughter." The medical examiner informed him as cameras flashed.
At the mention of a young girl Phillips eyes examined the room noticing it belonged to a teenager. The rock posters, picture frames, and other girly items that decorated the room were now splattered with blood. It made his stomach turn to see such innocence ruined. He stood wrapping his mind around the grisly sight before him.
"She moved," a surprised uniform announced startling the entire room.
"She couldn't have moved," the medical examiner exclaimed. "She doesn't have a pulse."
"She does now," confirmed the uniform after checking.
"Get the paramedics in here now!" bellowed Phillips. The uniform was beside the girl on the bed.
Paramedics rushed into the room. Phillips barked orders to the police and F.B.I. present before following the paramedics out with the girl. He needed to question her.
The ambulance ride was a harrowing event the girl never regained consciousness, and the paramedics almost lost her twice. Phillips' mind whirled at the possibilities.
The E.R. doctor met them outside. Phillips hurried from the ambulance to catch the doctor before he disappeared into a trauma room.
"Federal Agent Phillips," he introduced himself forcefully. "Declare her dead."
"She will be if you don't let me go," the doctor insisted trying to pull away.
"No matter what happens you declare her dead," instructed Phillips. "Find me after you're finished."
The doctor stared wide eyed at the man in front of him. The meaning of his words slowly took shape in his mind. "I understand."
"You declared her dead?" Fuller asked interrupting the narrative.
"Yes, and then had her transferred here."
"Jessica Reynolds is Caitlin Sullivan."
"Yes, but only you and I know this. Caitlin Sullivan is officially dead. There were no witnesses to the Sullivan crime."
"This was done to protect her?"
"It was necessary. The girl is being heavily sedated due to her injuries; we haven't been able to piece the crime together. We don't know who, or why anyone would even want to harm the Sullivan family. But from the injuries and the timeline we've established they were tortured before they were killed."
"Why didn't they kill Caitlin?"
"They thought they had, and if they knew she was alive they'd want to finish the job. We are going to stake out the funeral, we've interviewed the Sullivan's friends and family and we've got nothing. My first priority is to keep this girl safe until she can tell us what happened."
"When is she going to wake up?"
"The doctors want to keep her sedated until she's more stable. Another day or so and then they'll reduce the medicine."
Fuller mulled over everything he'd been told. Phillips had taken drastic steps in this case and he wasn't sure he understood the man's motivations for any of it.
"If they weren't one of yours then why are you going through such lengths to protect this girl?" questioned Fuller trying to make the pieces fit.
Phillips stared at Adam showing no signs of voicing an answer. Fuller considered all the reasons why the F.B.I. would take such actions. Aha, Fuller wanted to shout. The only reason Adam could fathom was that the F.B.I. might be somehow responsible for this.
"I still fail to see what Jump Street is going to be able to do."
"This girl is a teenager. Teenagers relate better to other teenagers," Phillips answered simply.
"That doesn't answer my question."
"When she wakes up she'll need protection at school, at home, you know the drill. We've been through this before. Only this time it won't be wise to have the agents sitting outside in a car."
"So she's not going to have any F.B.I. protection?"
"Not yet. Everyone thinks she's dead. That's the safest cover we can give her. When she wakes up she'll need help adjusting, need to be trained in how to maintain a cover. Your officers are effective in that regard if nothing else."
Almost a compliment, Fuller almost smiled. "But we can't do anything until she wakes up."
"That is for you to figure out."
"I didn't even say I'd take this case," argued Fuller.
"We both know you'll take it," Phillips stood as did Fuller. "I'll be in touch." The man whisked himself through the door before Fuller's objections reached his lips.
Fuller slumped into his seat. His day went from okay to difficult in less than ten minutes. Reaching for the folders he read them again taking his time, and taking his own notes trying to decipher how to handle the situation.
Thanks for reading and I hoped you enjoyed it. All reviews are greatly appreciated. Special thanks to my beta Alicia!