In the entire span of their eleven years of partnership, Olivia believes the ride to meet McKinney is one of the most painfully awkward. It ranks higher than their first conversation at the coffee shop upon her return from Oregon, the first moment after Gitano suffered the fatal gunshot wound to his head after the intense stand-off and death seemed imminent, somehow more than finding herself between a rock and a hard place with the tenuous Stabler marriage. Definitely much more awkward than the minutes after any number of her and Elliot's infamous arguments when the entire squad falls dead silent and all eyes drop to them. Sure, extenuating circumstances make them less accountable for what happened last night, but tidbits of their encounter continue to rise up like an old, well-worn memory, and with the way he is avoiding her eyes and the severe way he is sitting, she is beginning to think he's recalling some of the events himself.
She knows what GHB does to people. Countless victims give the same accounts. It's more than blacking out and awakening with a memory full of holes—it's the thought, the audacity of letting someone gain the upper hand, remove their will, make them vulnerable. The drug does things to them in ways that goes beyond their typical personality. It makes the person lose their inhibitions, makes them feel energetic, talkative, unusually intoxicated. It also lets out the hidden sexual side of a person. God only knows what that means. She's almost too afraid to begin remembering exactly how she acted; not only is it embarrassing, but it could seriously jeopardize everything she holds dear to her life. Like the man she has called her best friend for over a decade.
They sit across from one another in the back of a white limousine, which had been dispatched by Lawrence's "well-to-do" older brother. Older brother and "Paulie," according to the kid, have audacious plans to take over the trade market on pharmacy drugs, open up shipments over the border and by sea, making friends with connections. They believe that New York is the most prolific location for business. There has to be a plausible explanation for the man's reckless travel over the borders. Lawrence explains the ease in which the older man has in crossing, implicating deeply-seeded corruption. Olivia is assuming McKinney's finding buddies in the Border Patrol and maybe various other law enforcement officials who want a little extra pocket money. The whole concept of such a far reaching operation involving a notorious drug-smuggling rapist is enough to make her feel a little fear—something that would make the more typical person wilt into submission—but she likes to toy with this emotion. It keeps her alert.
Olivia peeks over at Elliot, who is now staring intently at her. The eerie ambience created by the interior lighting of the vehicle illuminates his face, exaggerating the shadows and angles. It makes him appear more menacing, obscured. She notes that he looks better now in his own button-down and slacks and the dark purple blotches marring his neck which sharply contrast his appearance are nearly completely hidden by his shirt collar.
She looks down at her conservative pencil skirt, and runs a hand across the fabric to smooth the surface of any wrinkles. Not her normal attire; she'd never really been one to sport a skirt and only on special occasions wore a dress. The choice in clothes makes sense though. They'd dressed themselves to impress the drug dealer, who lives like he has all the riches in the world. If they want to sneak their way into his little haven, they'll need to look their best. She's not sure she remembers exactly what the back story is, but she's assuming they are pretending to be a wealthy pair of business people with attractive enough networking to catch McKinney's attention.
She hates that she needs to put on her most expensive outfit for a sorry excuse of a man with a complex who gets a kick out of making people submissive and taking advantage of them. A man who clearly desires control so insatiably that he must debilitate them with drugs in order to get his sickening sexual thrills. She knows that McKinney grew up in a seedy Bronx neighborhood with a single father and three siblings. They'd been poor and had little opportunity at their disposal. McKinney had used his size to intimidate people from childhood, then utilized it as he aged, flourishing in gang life and the drug business. It had seemed only natural for him to go this route; he'd grown up around the worst of it his entire life. McKinney has continued on to swindle as many people as possible, and treats women like objects. He does not understand or care about the core of morality—he would rather dehumanize someone than show them any semblance of compassion. A true narcissistic sociopath.
She's seen plenty of the same kinds of rapists with a similar type of barely-concealed resentment for authority and disregard for the opposite sex; men who will do anything to be wealthy, even endangering countless lives as long as it puts them on top. McKinney is unique in his outreach, though. He has been flourishing exceptionally well both in and out of America.
Her mind drifts to how susceptible they are to ambush, and she wonders what they are to expect when they get to their destination. She lets her mind drift to her coworkers. Where is Fin? Elliot mentioned something about Fin helping them get infiltrated and that was probably done with the aid of one of his contacts he established with his time in Narcotics. Will Fin be there? She will be relieved to see a familiar face and will feel much more grounded and confident about their position. Olivia's thoughts fall to their captain who is likely having an aneurysm right now over his missing detectives and the higher ups who are probably breathing down his neck. She contemplates the possibility that they were fully wired with electronics before, during and after the drugging. The terrors that the two face are innumerable.
Olivia is suddenly aware that she and Elliot have been virtually silent the entire time in the limo. Kim and Lawrence are squawking away at one another, but their voices have become background noise to her ears. She can't concentrate when her partner is engulfing her in such an intense stare.
Déjà vu hits her like a brick. They've been here before.
He's sitting across from her in the limo. His shoes come into brief contact with exposed toes that peek out from the tips of her sling-back pumps.
It is dark outside—she knows this because the black light makes the entire sitting area glow purple.
She still has a thin wine glass in her right hand with about a quarter of her drink left, but she has begun to feel fuzzy. Not a bad sensation, really. Actually, it's a pleasant feeling that makes her want to laugh and be irresponsible, and brings about a ravenous kind of yearning inside of her that desperately screams for attention.
Sensual thoughts fill her head, arousing a purely animalistic desire in places she usually keeps hidden for herself.
Elliot's features smooth out into a lazy grin as he shares her gaze. In the glowing darkness, he looks self-assured and sexy.
Fuck.
Olivia has never wanted anyone so much in her life.
The noise stops, and she finally looks away toward the back of the spacious vehicle like she's been caught doing something wicked. Sitting off to their right, the kids are looking at them with quizzical smiles.
Under their scrutiny, her head pounds with a renewed force. She definitely needs some Tylenol and a gallon of water.
"You awfully quiet over there, Rachel," Lawrence says, and she thinks to herself that nearly everything that comes out of his mouth seems deviously snide. "Feelin' all right?"
Olivia's smile feels more fabricated than ever. "Headache."
He shrugs, and then throws a wiry arm around Kim, who is sitting next to him calmly. The girl has decided to haul her dog with her and is brushing the creature's fur with a salon-style brush. Olivia has probably spent less on her own hair products than what is used for the dog. "That'll go away soon," Lawrence states evenly.
Elliot decides to exercise his vocal chords for the first time in the half hour they have sat in the limousine. "I'm curious, Lawrence." He is sprawled out across the seat he occupies, appearing completely comfortable. "When you handed us our clothes, our other things were missing. You have any idea what happened to them?"
She grimaces a little. He sounds every inch of the cop that he is. Lawrence either doesn't notice or doesn't care, unflinching. Olivia's not sure if his indifference is good or bad.
"Oh, you mean your purse and wallet? Paulie took 'em."
Olivia's eyebrows perk. "For what?"
Lawrence's demeanor transforms. He looks every bit of the criminal he is at that very instant and less like the amiable minion he once seemed to be. "Security purposes."
They steady their expressions, keeping their eyes completely focused to avoid appearing edgy in any way. To show weakness to the young man is allowing him to think he can manipulate them. Olivia responds, her voice sharp. "He always this paranoid?"
"He don't trust nobody. Not even his old woman under these kinds of situations. You understand? Can't afford to let his guard down for even a minute. You should know that."
She doesn't miss a beat. "We're careful in our own way, but he's being a little extreme, don't you think?"
"Got anything to worry about? Rachel?" Lawrence's eyes narrow.
Olivia preserves her stare, unwavering. "Of course not."
"Good. Then everything will be fine."
Elliot leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We're not used to needing to be as careful as Mr. McKinney usually. Luckily, we go through the same guy we've had for a long time. But last night was an exception. It's a little unnerving to know we were drugged and had our wallets taken."
Lawrence looks giddy again at the mention of their intoxicated, drug-fueled escapade. "Don't worry about the G, man. You two was way too tense, so Paulie decided to slip you some so it'd loosen you up and you guys could have more fun. Come to a party just to hang out in a corner? Naw. Anyway, right after he give it to you, you guys started laughing and all that. Removed the sticks from your asses. Relax."
Olivia seriously cannot wait to be alone so she can release all of the pent up pissiness inside of her into the surrounding air as a scream. "Well, it would have been nice to have remembered having a good time. All we did was wake up sick."
Kim bends to her right, and then digs around in a small refrigerator. She unearths a couple bottles of water. "Here. This will make you two feel better."
Olivia steals a glance at Elliot. "We'll pass."
"Come on," Lawrence says in disbelief. "The water will help with the effects of the GHB. Clean it out of your system."
Elliot clears his throat. "You sure it's not laced with something else? There won't be any surprises this time?"
"No," the younger man says, shaking his head. "What, you don't trust me?"
"You have to earn trust," her partner responds in a low voice.
Kim hands Elliot a bottle a little gruffly. "The seal isn't even broken. It's just water." Her voice is dripping with a new level of defensiveness. "It wasn't Lawrence's idea, anyway."
Olivia can't help herself from allowing words to spill from her mouth. "So the plan was to loosen us up? Are you sure it wasn't to make us so out of it that our personal items could be taken more easily?"
Lawrence holds his hands up. "A'ight. Let's be cool." He glances out the tinted window to his right and withdraws his arm from around Kim's petite form. The vehicle comes to a gentle stop. "We're here."