Sorry for the great wait (I know I have a dearth of readers and this note is gratuitous, but I like to flatter myself that people actually read my stories). I have been withheld from writing by a certain Elizabeth Maria Swan (cough cough), to whom many treasures are hidden in the below chapter. And without further ado I give to all your eagerly swooning eyeballs... Chapter 4:
The last rays of twilight were slipping away through the cracks between buildings that littered the New York skyline, and dusty clouds began to encroach upon the city. A premonitory breeze had rustled up, and it stirred the loose bits of garbage that lay upon the streets near Monadnock Metallurgy.
Elliot and Olivia had found a secure position near the western wall of the facility and were currently waiting for the companions to arrive. Together they had decided that a stealthy approach was the best option, considering that Fin's open consultation had ended in his mysterious disappearance. Olivia shivered in the chilling night air as she remember the ominous image of Fin's squad car being dragged into that warehouse. She knew Fin was capable of protecting himself, more than capable actually. In fact, he had such a Spartan demeanor that one time a child ran away from him screaming when Fin had only offered him a cookie. It had taken Olivia a full ten minutes and the aid of a Doctor Seuss book to calm the poor child after that. Olivia laughed silently at the memory of it, but she was jolted back to the task at hand when a veiled man swiftly appeared to them from nearby.
John Munch nodded his head in greeting and crouched down next to them. Cragen appeared soon after and joined them.
"Elliot, I thought I told you-" Cragen began, but was cut off.
"No time for reprimands, captain," Ellliot said, seizing control of the situation. Olivia looked at him in quiet wonder, it was rare that he disregarded Cragen so blatantly, but Cragen seemed to note the urgency of their situation and let it pass, perhaps also leaving himself a note to deal with Elliot later.
"We don't know what happened to Fin, but we think that storming the factory as stealthily as possible is our best bet at finding him. John, did you bring the supplies?"
"I have it right here," John replied in a Byronic tone. Munch flipped open a thin briefcase that had hitherto been concealed at his side to reveal an assortment of darkly colored gadgets. Government conspiracies being his informal bailiwick, detective Munch knew state of the art espionage technology like the back of his hand.
"Good," Elliot said, looking them over. "Captain, no offense, but I think you will best serve as our base, relying information to us as we go in." Elliot pulled out one of the gadgets. "As we go through the factory we can place these where we see fit, they are cameras that will allow Cragen to monitor what happens around us. There are enough for us each to have three." Elliot distributed the cameras accordingly.
"Now," he said, handing them earpieces. "I think the best plan is to go up and over this wall, and for us each to proceed in three directions to reconnoiter the area. I'll take the grounds and the back warehouses, where we saw Fin's car, Olivia you take the main factory building, and Munch, you take the offices." They each donned their gear and prepared to scale the wall. Cragen sat down behind a bush and pulled out a slender computer through which he could remotely monitor the cameras.
When ready the three detectives vaulted themselves up the wall and landed quietly on the ground on the other side, immediately dividing into their allotted paths.
SVU SVU SVU
Casey Novak sat at her desk, weighed down by the laborious case she was working on. It involved a suit filed by a young lady against a wealthy businessman. The young lady had claimed the man had assaulted her on their first date, a claim the businessman vehemently denied. Whatever the state of the businessman's courting strategies, it seemed his business practices were more than questionable, which was making the case more of a quagmire of papers and records of business deals and financial transactions. But by now Casey was spent on such meticulous lucubration.
Casey dropped a hefty folder that recorded the time logs of the business' employees onto her desk with a thick thud, leaned back and sighed heavily. The large volume upset a nearby stack of papers which slid over, spreading itself out across her desk and disturbing a diminutive pair of bunny figurines that sat there.
Sometimes I just get so tired of cases like this.
Casey's streaming red hair flowed down past her shoulders, and the lids of her eyes drooped a little. It was 6:30, and she had been at her office nearly 12 hours.
Well, I've put enough work into this, I guess I'll go see how everyone else is doing and then reserve some time for recuperation.
Casey slid her chair back and heaved another stack of paperwork out of the way to clear a path for her departure and turned for the door. The doorknob rattled as she turned it, and she fumed quietly. It had been weeks since she had asked for that to be fixed. The loose doorknob did not impede the door from being opened, and that was the very problem. The door couldn't be locked. Casey knew that there was hardly anything to be stolen from her office, and hardly anyone in the building who would have the occasion and reason to attempt such a burglary, but it nonetheless made her uneasy.
Not to mention that maintenance in this building is really low rateCasey thought as sidestepped a puddle in the hallway.
The redheaded lawyer entered the main office to discover it empty, which she considered curious, because although it was late Special Victims detectives could be expected to be working late any day of the week. She thought she had even remembered hearing that Olivia had spent the night here working recently, maybe even last night. Oh well Casey shrugged, her wearied mind not wishing to pursue the reasons for the vacated room. She turned to go, but paused momentarily, her eyes lighting upon the grim mocking expression of Peter Iscanyth, his picture still tacked to Olivia's bulletin board.
Mhm, dreary fellow, I would enjoy haranguing him in court. Speaking of court maybe I'll call Alex. It's been a while since I've seen her, and it might be nice to have some company tonight after all. Besides, she would be able to understand my resentment of that legal suit. It's would be nice to rant for once, and the god damn maintenance!
Casey turned to take the stairs, the elevator was still out of order after some irate detective had thrown a desk into its operating panel.
SVU SVU SVU
Elliot trod carefully along the flaccid greenery that lay adjacent to the plain outer factory wall. His movements were absorbed by the growing shadows, and he crept slowly up to the first of a series of large storage buildings, the third of which contained Fin's car. Elliot found an old rusted door open at the first of these buildings, and slipped inside.
Elliot it's been a while since you've had a job like this. Probably not since the Marines, and never in this condition.
Despite Elliot's professed robustness, he was still fatigued and throbbing from the injuries acquired on the previous night, but he pushed them out of his mind and continued onward.
The interior of the warehouse contained towering stacks of crates, boxes, and containers of various sizes, all with various logos stamped on their sides. 'Hurley's Electrics,' 'Denton and Alton Industrial Parts,' 'Carn Motors' the tags read. Elliot continued through the looming isles, encountering nothing of interest. He tapped the miniscule button situated on the pale wire that ran up to his ear. "Nothing here so far, captain, any news from the others?"
"Nothing as yet, Elliot," came Cragen's laconic reply, a reply that required propinquity to be heard. Maybe Cragen was still ticked off by Elliot's stubbornness, but that was nothing new. Elliot continued on to the next warehouse, finding it equally boring, and then to the third, where he expected to at least find Fin's car.
Elliot opened the door warily, "all right entering third warhouse now," he said discretely. Elliot perceived a faint light in the far end of this building. The region near the front, where deliveries were processed, was illuminated and he thought he could hear the sound of voices. The bandaged detective approached surreptiously, peering between a pair of crates at the arrangement on the other of the isle. There sat Fin's squad car, unharmed, by the looks of it, but no Fin. Instead, four men stood observing it. Three of them resembled the three Elliot and Olivia had witnessed pushing the car into the warehouse, but the four appeared differently, and seemed to be commanding the others. He was dressed nicely and had an air of rotten distinction about him.
"Yes, you'll have to find a way to dispose of this," said the well dressed man. "We can't have an NYPD car sitting in here like this."
The others nodded dumbly. They were the kind of brutes whose raison d'état consisted of raw manpower and bestial strength waiting to be ordered around. They reminded Elliot of workhorses.
"Get to work on dismantling it as thoroughly as possible," the well dressed man scoffed to them. "We can have the parts shipped out individually to our connections across the country, and have them take care that no one notices them."
The three other men shook their heads dumbly again and said in thick voices, "yes sir."
The fourth man turned to leave and while walking out said causally, "besides, the police are going to be really interested in us when one of their detectives goes missing after paying us a visit."
This caustic remark evoked a cacophony of laughter from the three thugs, but Elliot stock still and felt shivers run down his spine.
Shit. Fin. He thought.