Anita stared at the phone after she hung it up. Apparently Jack McCoy was among the missing.
Son of a bitch.
The 27th precinct had been unnaturally lucky. Being uptown the 2-7 had assumed responsibility for traffic detail after the first tower was hit. As the day unraveled the precinct became responsible for flow of people and controlling public panic as people streamed uptown and across the bridges. It wasn't until well after the evacuation that members of precinct were called upon to help with the search and rescue effort. Anita had taken a sigh of relief when all officers, on and off duty, were accounted for; no one from the precinct had been downtown or caught in the collapse.
Apparently her relief had been premature. Not that he was the same as one of her officers but McCoy was a known entity around the 2-7 and despite the tendency for things to get tense on specific trials, he was generally regarded as one of the good guys. If not well liked, he was at the least respected by everyone in the house. Losing him would be another blow too close to home from a day that had already delivered too many.
Her stomach began to grow heavy with the dread which, until that phone call, had been slowly lightening as she heard about the safety of various friends and colleagues. She had not even thought to be concerned about any of the folks she worked with from Hogan Place or the Justice Department or even most folks at 1 PP. She had just assumed that they would all be safe behind granite walls with their administrative duties. She hadn't spared them a second thought.
She was interrupted from dwelling on her blossoming guilt when she noticed Lennie enter the precinct. She got up and motioned him into her office.
"Hey Lieu." He shuffled in wearily and sat on the arm of her visitor's chair.
"Lennie," she sighed, leaning back against her desk "Why don't you grab a couple of hours in the bunk room?"
He huffed. "I'm okay. The brass down there figured I'm too old for the heavy lifting, so I'm not busting my hump, just delivering water and playing chauffer. I've managed to grab a couple of hours here and there."
Anita scrutinized the senior detective before nodding her approval. He returned the favor, "What about you Lieu? I don't need to be a detective to notice you're still wearing Tuesday's outfit."
Anita grinned. "Thanks for your concern Lennie, but I'm covered." She nodded to the cot set up on the far side of her desk.
"Ahh, deskside accommodations. Don't let the chief see that; they'll want to make 'em standard issue." Lennie quipped.
Anita smiled.
"Well Lieu, I'm about to grab another dozen cases and bring 'em down to The Pile. Was there something you needed from me?" Lennie stood and stepped to the doorway.
Anita sighed and braced the palms of her hands back against her desk. "Before you came in I got a call from the DA."
Lennie snorted. "Did you tell her that all investigations are on hold?"
Anita smiled. "No, there was no need. She called about something else." She frowned pensively before continuing, "Lennie, in your time downtown have you seen McCoy at all?"
Lennie arched his eyebrows, "Jack? No, was I supposed to?"
Anita shook her head, "No. Lewin called because he's missing. He went down there after the second plane hit and she hasn't heard from him since."
Lennie blinked and blew out a slow breath. "You know, in those first few hours I hear it was pretty chaotic. Does she know if he actually ended up there? They guessed there might be some kind of collapse and were doing a lot to keep from people from getting close. Jack's got family out on the island, I bet he just got himself out of dodge and for once forgot about work."
Anita grimaced and shook her head slowly. "The reason Lewin called was because McCoy's brother stopped by Hogan Place. He hasn't heard from him either."
Lennie took a deep breath and leaned back, distracted in thought. "Shoot. Okay, well just because I didn't see him doesn't mean he wasn't there. It's a big place and there are a lot of people. I'm going to load up another carload of water and head back. I'll ask around when I drop it off and then I'll take a drive. There are a couple of different HQs and some volunteer tents and stations. If he's still down there that's probably where he's hanging out."
Anita nodded quietly. She glanced around the near empty squad room. "I'll come with you."
An hour later they pulled into the command post the 2-7 was working out of. A few officers approached to help Lennie with the cases of water as Anita slowly got out of the car, surveying the scene in front of her.
She hadn't said anything to Lennie but this was the first time she had been to ground zero or "The Pile" as it was being called by the response workers. The closer they got to the site the crisp September breeze was replaced by a warm, heavy haze and the smell of burning permeated the air. She could make out some camera crews along the perimeter. She knew nearly all the stations had become dedicated 24 hour news and the standing flight restrictions were the only reason that no helicopters were hovering overhead. Flood lights illuminated the lines of men moving three sky scrapers a bucket at a time.
A group of men, hair matted down and faces caked with dirt, sat on a curb next to a table that had a few cardboard boxes of coffee. Some were drinking bottles of water others were leaning against the fire truck dozing or taking turns with the O2 tank. She noticed most had blue dust masks hanging from their necks. A dog was laying out next to them, lapping water from an upturned fire helmet someone had laid out.
Despite the hundreds of people and the constant movement it felt oddly still and quiet. There wasn't much talk to be heard other than the occasional instruction or order, even Lennie remained solemnly quiet. Anita supposed the most upsetting quiet was from the half dozen dogs she could see from her position. They were trained SnR dogs and they would't bark unless they found something.
On the ride over Lennie had told her how Liz Rodgers had first arrived yesterday, offering her services as a doctor to those who were injured but she was back in the role as a coroner by nightfall because there simply weren't enough survivors. The ME had even speculated that the city would for once actually have a surplus of donated blood due to the number of well intentioned citizens and the limited real need because of the low survival rate. Anita found herself praying to hear one of those dogs bark.
She tried to remember what this place had looked like the last time she was here, just last Friday. Her insurance company had been on the 5th floor of the South Tower. Reggie, her agent was another one who previously hadn't been on her list of people she thought to worry about, but now she did. She tried to take a deep breath to clear away the realization that his office, and hundreds more like it, with all their contents, was simply gone. The dusty air made her cough and forced the tears to the front of her eyes.
Lenny came up beside her, "Sorry, I suppose I should have warned you about that. Try not to breathe too deep. Not only does it hurt but I guess folks are saying there are some nasty things in the air. They have masks in the tent if you want one."
She shook her head. "I'm fine. I just need a moment."
Lennie nodded but didn't say anything. After a few minutes she spoke again without looking at him,
"It's so absolute. I can't believe everything is just gone. It doesn't even look like New York. I can't believe this happened here."
Lennie nodded, "It was an act of war. You saw the papers this morning? They're calling this the second day of infamy."
Anita didn't say anything. Lennie dragged his hands across his face. "I asked around. No one here has seen McCoy."
Anita looked at him, responding in a whisper, "If he was here...I can't understand how anyone survived this."
Lennie turned around and planted his hands on the hood of the car. "But people have, and there are still more survivors under this rubble. Just a few hours ago half a ladder company came up. They'd been stuck in a caved in hallway on the first floor. All are not lost."
Anita nodded, "Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope."
Lennie smirked, "Sorry, I must have missed that day at Sunday school." The two cops smiled sadly at each other.
After a moment Lennie straightened, "Tell you what Lieu, I'm going to be doing some relief work out for the guys in the bucket lines, why don't you take the car and cruise around? There are at least a dozen stations like this one and I haven't even been to the North side. Proffacci's supposed to be coming in with the guys who were bunking at the station around 10. I'll take his car back when he shows up." Anita accepted the keys he held out for her and nodded her thanks.
"Oh, and Lieu?" He called as she was getting into the car, "When you find McCoy, do me a favor and smack him for me?"
She smiled, "Gladly."
She caught him watching her go in the rearview mirror and knew that despite his hopeful words that he was worried too. She was one of the very few who had a little understanding of the strange friendship between her detective and the EADA. She knew that if she couldn't find McCoy that Briscoe would not hear it well.
It was unfair to pile this on to him, e already had lost too many friends and former colleagues in the past two days; his old precinct was one of the ones initially called to the towers and she knew he had lost an old captain and an officer he had trained as a rookie. She figured that was likely the real reason he had been relegated to the busy work for the relief station. Standing in a bucket line left too much room to let your mind wander and dwell. She wondered how much loss a person was supposed to bear in a single instance. She only hoped she wouldn't have any more bad news to bring back to him.
It was nearly 11 o'clock by the time Anita pulled into the first relief station of the North tower. She had visited all of the stations around the South tower and had helped shuffle some supplies around but had yet to find anyone who could recall seeing the lawyer. She steeled herself for the same rote conversations as she pulled in and shut off the engine.
The station was much like the others; a couple of tables with dusty donuts and stands of coffee and water was off to one side and a pile of buckets, sledge hammers and other tools piled up in a corner. A group of brass surrounded a generator and a table in the middle which had papers and radio charging stations strewn across its surface. The expected group of exhausted workers was sitting to the side in various stages of wakefulness while others moved rubble to a dump truck idling not far away.
She approached the table with the officers but backed off when it became clear that tempers were getting high over something. She suspected that these men had not slept much or eaten well in the past two days, not to mention the emotional strain of grief and responsibility they were all shouldering. She didn't blame anyone for getting short over minor things, but she worried about the potential results if too many of the decision makers were pushed too much further to their limit.
She regarded the resting men while she waited for tempers to calm down. It appeared that this station was primarily a Fire Department position as most of the men were in blue and grey FDNY sweatshirts or the standard black and yellow jackets. Anita felt her heart speed up when she realized that in fact, all of the men were wearing FDNY apparel, all except for one.
A few men were lying in the mulch under what was once an ornamental tree. One of the reclining men was facing away from her, partially on his side, propped against the base of the tree. He was wearing dirty jeans and what was once a white dress shirt.
As Anita got closer she noted that unlike the rest of the boot clad men this one was wearing a pair of wing tipped dress shoes. The shirt was filthy and torn; one sleeve was missing in its entirety and appeared to be wrapped around his hand which he held clutched to his chest. She held her breath as she rounded the tree to see his face. The dirt and dust was caked on so deep that not a space of skin was could be seen and there was no way to tell the color of his matted hair. There were smudges where he had obviously tossed water over his eyes but the grime was so thorough that at first she couldn't be certain. She knelt closer and slowly released her breath when she realized that this indeed was the man she had been looking for. She lightly placed her fingers on the side of his neck and happily felt the strong steady pulse which confirmed for her that he really was just sleeping.
"Lieutenant!" startled, she jumped up and turned to see one of the officers calling her back to the table. "Was there something you wanted?" She spared a second to glance back at the sleeping lawyer, as if to ensure he wouldn't disappear before turning back and approaching the man who had called to her.
"I'm actually all set now, although if you don't mind I am going to kidnap one of your crew." The man, who appeared to be an engine chief, looked to where Anita had indicated.
"Who? Jack? Go ahead. The guys been here since before I showed up yesterday. Only just lay down a little while ago. Lord knows he's earned a real bed, I can't imagine sleeping on the ground is good for men our age."
Anita smiled for what felt like the first time all night. "I'm sure it's not. I'll actually be doing you a favor, you'll be spared his foul mood when he wakes up and refuses to admit that he hurts."
The chief laughed, "Friend of yours?"
Anita shrugged, "Let's just say I am well aware of how stubborn that man is."
The chief smirked and nodded his head. "Well we all know folks like that, don't we? So not a friend, huh? Who is he then? I get the feeling he's not a cop...even the more well dressed detectives wear more sensible shoes than that. I'm amazed he hasn't broken an ankle."
Anita shook her head, "Nope, not one of my guys. That there is Jack McCoy; the 'Executive Assistant District Attorney.'" She put his title in air quotes and smiled.
The chief looked surprised, "You don't say. You know I thought he looked familiar, wasn't he the one who convicted that Hollywood director a few years ago?"
Anita nodded, "The one and only."
The chief looked impressed, "Well damn. I certainly will have to hold a higher regard for lawyers now thanks to him. Go ahead and take the good counselor home. He needs his rest; we're going to be done removing this mess here in a few months but I have a feeling that Mr. McCoy and the courts are going to be busy cleaning up after this disaster for years to come."
Anita smiled sadly, not yet willing to consider the truth of the chief's words. She thanked him then returned to the sleeping DA.
She approached softly, not wanting to disturb the other sleeping men.
"McCoy...McCoy...Jack. Wake up Jack." He was out cold. She grabbed his shoulder and patted his cheek. "Jack!"
He started and relaxed, slowly blinking his eyes open. "Lieutenant?" He croaked.
"Yup." She smiled at him, "Come on with me, I've got a car."
He stared at her dumbly for a moment and she wondered if he had heard her. "Come on," she repeated, "This way."
"Okay." Was all he said before he accepted her hand up. He arched his back and rotated his shoulders and then lumbered in the direction she indicated without comment.
She nodded a final acknowledgment to the chief and followed Jack to the car. He was standing, head bowed at the passenger door.
"It's unlocked." He nodded and opened the door.
She followed him into the car and started the engine. She spared him a glance over her shoulder as she backed out. His head was bowed, eyes focused on his fidgeting fingers.
"You've got people worried about you, Counselor." Jack heaved a deep sigh and leaned his head back.
"Madeline?"
"Among others."
He looked at her, questioning.
"Nora Lewin called me after she received an office visit from a certain Patrick McCoy."
"Crap." He rubbed his face. "He's going to kill me."
Anita smiled, "Well, he'll have to get in line. I also have orders from Briscoe to slap you upside your smart-ass head. I can't say that wouldn't give me much satisfaction myself."
Jack huffed a chuckle which turned into a cough. Anita glanced at him worriedly but said nothing.
"I guess I lost track of time."
Anita nodded, was about to ask him what had happened to him but held her tongue when Jack shifted and coughed again.
"You know Counselor, I think I was initially going to drive you home but maybe it's not a great idea?"
She met his eyes looking for a response. He said nothing but looked ahead, unseeing. With his mouth down turned into a frowning pout he looked like a lost boy; upset but unwilling or unable to say what was bothering him.
She tried a more leading tactic, "Between that cough and whatever it is you did to your hand perhaps we should be going to a hospital?"
Jack shook his head and replied sternly, "I'm fine. No hospital."
The lieutenant considered arguing with him but decided against it. "The precinct then. You can wash up and grab a cot in the bunk room. We have first aid for your hand as well as O2, it may be a good idea for you have some nearby given you've been breathing that air for two days."
At first Anita thought the weary man would deny that plan as well but he surprised her when he remained quiet, mutely nodding his assent, keeping his eyes on the road.
Anita stole a glance at him, dirty, disheveled and shoulders slumped. She got the feeling that he didn't care about his racking cough or his injured hand but that the reason he agreed to come to the station was that perhaps he didn't want to be alone. She blinked back her emotion and decided that was alright with her, she didn't feel like being alone either and if he wasn't going to take care of himself she would drag forward her maternal instincts and see to it that he was ok.
"I have to take the long way back, why don't you see if you can catch a little shut eye?"
McCoy glanced at her and again nodded without saying a word. He closed his eyes and shifted until his forehead leaned upon the window. The change in position caused him to cough again and Anita to worry again.
He settled down quickly and they drove the rest of the way through the dark and deserted streets in silence.