A/N: I could make excuses for delays again, but I won't. But here's an extra-long chapter for your enjoyment. Dark themes contained within; you've been warned. This chapter delves into the events of the episode'The Perfect Family'. I have not put the episode dialogue in italics this time, as it would have made things a little too confusing. Suffice to say, I do have the characters' lines from the episode appear verbatim. However, a case from Donna's past as a Vice officer is interwoven in this chapter, and those events are in italics.
Kill Bill
Chapter XIII
Why did it have to involve a baby?
Her heart had been in her throat the instant Donna got the frantic command to stand down in her pursuit of the home-invasion suspects. With a baby possibly on board, ramming the stolen vehicle was in no way a viable option. She'd reacted as quickly as she could, slamming on the brakes while yanking the steering wheel with all her strength to avoid the collision she feared would be inevitable. In fact, Donna was mentally bracing for the jarring impact; her ears prepping for the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass. Miraculously, it never came to pass, and for a moment, she was in awe that she'd narrowly escaped a wreck.
"Sabine, you good to go?" Ed asked. His urgent tone broke through her mental fog.
"I'm on it," she affirmed, putting the SUV into reverse and finally getting back on track.
Doubtless the home invaders hadn't taken the time to secure the baby in a car seat, if indeed they had taken him. Their actions had been impulsive; brazen. Nevertheless, Team One wouldn't be bringing this chase to a stop by attempting to use forceful means again.
Babies were among the most helpless, precious, and vulnerable members of human society, and all Donna could think about was how close she had come to nearly ending the life of one of them. She tried to keep her mind focused on maintaining the standard pursuit formation with the others, but memories of squalid rooms and filthy crack houses bubbled to the surface. She strained to blank out the images of famished toddlers crying and screaming, left to sit in their own excrement; perpetually howling babies who were born addicted to whatever illicit substances their mothers had taken, the adults around them either too stoned or too mentally vacant to do anything to remedy the situation.
Get your head back in the game! Donna admonished herself fiercely.
Still, she struggled not to think of a particular case from early in her ten-year haul as a Vice officer. It was the kind of case that had made her blood boil and question her faith in humanity, and had nearly brought her to the point of quitting altogether. The story had even made the papers at the time, and the outcry from the public had been swift and damning when the details were splashed all over the front page of the city newspapers.
The drug bust was supposed to have been routine. Donna and her colleagues at the time had done their homework and secured the necessary warrants. Two drug dealers were occupying a home in a neighbourhood synonymous with drugs and shady businesses. Weeks of surveillance saw addicts coming and going at all hours of the day and night. Those involved were clearly unconcerned that their illegal activities were being paraded around, even in broad daylight. This sort of behaviour, a flouting of the laws and callous disregard for the safety of those around infuriated Donna, because she saw first-hand what a scourge the drug trade was on society.
On this particular case, she was in the role of an addict, her first time adopting the name 'Melinda'. She had been hanging out at the drug house for several days and evenings a week for nearly a month, familiarizing herself with the place and acquainting herself with the dealers and their hangers-on.
One dealer was called 'Wheeler': a tall, dark, taciturn guy in his early thirties who kept his head shaved, wore pricey business suits, and seemed to be the one 'in charge'. The second dealer, who went by the name of 'Monty', sported a variety of tattoos on his pale, sinewy arms, and usually had his girlfriend draped over him. Monty called her 'Babs', and like her boyfriend, was in her mid-twenties. Her green eyes were cat-like with heavy black eyeliner, her permed hair was cheaply dyed and streaked blonde, and she dressed provocatively. She and Donna barely exchanged a word, but Babs behaved very territorially, making sure every other female who ventured into the drug house knew Monty was hers.
Other 'friends' and acquaintances of Wheeler and Monty would spill about the house, occupying the rooms for their personal reasons; various drug paraphernalia left lying around.
Donna's team was preparing to execute the arrest warrants under the cover of darkness, having been given a green light to proceed. It was late afternoon on the chosen date when a skinny, wan young woman carrying a backpack on her hunched shoulders showed up at the house, looking to score a hit of something. Monty had slyly ushered her inside.
Even though Donna was pretending to be wasted as she sat in a dank corner of the house, she took careful note of the new arrival: she was probably barely out of high school, and her brown hair was long, stringy and in desperate need of washing. Her clothes, too, were filthy and ill-fitting. Maybe at one time they had fit snugly, but the girl had evidently lost a good deal of weight recently, so her jeans were loose at the waist and her hoodie almost swallowed her. Donna would soon discover the girl's dire circumstances, and the ensuing tragedy would haunt her.
"I need something good," said the desperate girl.
"Anything you want," Monty said, solicitous of his client. He withdrew a tiny baggie and shook it tantalizingly in front of her face. "It's yours, honey-buns… if you can meet my price."
The girl seemed to be dazzled by the drugs; her sad, empty eyes struggling to focus on the baggie. "I can pay," she said in a wheedling tone, "just not right now…"
"Well, then I guess I won't be able to give this to you 'right now'," the dealer replied with a 'tsk', and pocketed the drugs.
"But – I need… I – I'm good for it!" she cried. "I brought something else… it can be like… like collateral… like a down payment, okay?"
"Honey, I don't do charity, and this ain't no bank. Get lost." Monty had run out of what little patience he had.
The girl was undeterred. She slipped the backpack off her shoulders and rested it on the floor as Donna watched. She unzipped it and withdrew a sleeping, listless infant that was wrapped in a blanket and clothed in a soiled jumper two sizes too big.
"Here," the girl said, thrusting the baby at the dealer. "Take him. I gave birth like, a couple weeks ago, and I'm sure he's worth something. You could sell him, right? Aren't people always complaining that they have to wait so long to adopt a baby? You could find some people who want a baby, and that could be your payment."
She sounded so hopeful and pitiful, Donna immediately wanted to intercede.
"Do I look like an adoption agency?" Monty's face twisted in a disdainful sneer. He uttered a profanity and roughly shoved the girl towards the door. "Get lost, and don't crawl back here ever again."
Crestfallen, the girl tried not to cry right there on the threshold. The baby she still clutched had not stirred through all of this, and Donna silently begged the girl to just leave and be out of this God-forsaken place. She vowed that as soon as she was able, she would alert Child Services. The young mother was obviously still a minor, an addict and a runaway, which meant she was in no position to raise a newborn.
"Bring that baby back here!"
Donna made a massive effort to hide her surprise at the shouted command. She concealed her interest as best she could in what was happening as Babs, holding a lit cigarette in one hand, approached the girl and baby.
"I always wanted a kid," Babs cooed while stretching out a finger to stroke the cheek of the slumbering baby. She blew out a cloud of cigarette smoke.
"Babs, I don't want a baby in here," Monty growled. He put a hand on her shoulder to pull her back. "What do you know about lookin' after a freakin' baby, anyway? They're too much trouble, and they're bad for business."
"But they're so much fun to play with," Babs said with a grin, shrugging off Monty's hand, ignoring his obvious displeasure at the interest she was showing in the teen's 'offer'.
Something in the way Babs uttered the word 'play' sent a sinister sensation coiling around Donna's spine. There had been nothing in Babs' personality that Donna had seen over the past few weeks undercover that made her seem remotely maternal. What possible reason could Babs have for wanting a newborn?
"You can take him!" the runaway girl blurted out eagerly; desperately. "Fair trade. Gimmie what I need, and you can have the baby. You see? He sleeps real good and he doesn't cry much."
"Mm-hmm," Babs mumbled absently, a grin spreading across her face. "He's real nice, for sure. I'd like to take him right now. Monty, I want this baby. Got it?"
Monty realised Babs was not going to be dissuaded. "You deal with it," he grumbled, again tossing out a foul word to emphasize his irritation with the whole situation. "Stinkin' babies."
Babs dropped her half-smoked cigarette and crushed it underfoot. She took the infant from his mother and slipped a hand into Monty's pocket for the baggie.
"There ya go, kid," Babs declared, handing over the drugs. "Now scram. And don't come back lookin' for this kid, got it? He's mine now, fair and square. Go! Beat it!"
The teen scurried out of the house, not even bothering to collect her backpack as she left, chased by Babs' ruthless parting words.
Donna felt her fists curl almost of their own volition. She bit back a cry of anger and frustration while a spike of sorrow pierced her heart. The baby's mother hadn't even bid him goodbye. No "His name is"; no last kiss or caress; just dumped into the hands of a stranger in exchange for a few ounces of cocaine.
"Great, Babs," Monty whined while Babs rocked the baby in her arms. "Now you get to explain to Wheeler why we just got shit for a couple ounces."
Babs laughed harshly; derisively. "Me? Explain? You really don't know anything about Wheeler, do you?"
"Whatever," Monty griped. "Just don't come cryin' to me when he takes your head off. What if that girl does come back here beggin' for her kid? What if she goes to the cops?"
"She won't," Babs snapped, arching an eyebrow at Monty. "Anyone can see, plain as day, she was relieved to get rid of this kid. Besides, the cops don't believe druggie runaways."
Donna was torn. Her team was going to be busting into this house when night fell, and she was supposed to be swept up by the arresting officers in order to establish her undercover identity of 'Melinda'. But there was a baby on the premises now. She had to get the message out without blowing her cover that with this innocent infant, they would have to postpone the bust…
The chase was still in progress. All the members of Team One could hear the baby's cries over their comm link when Greg made contact with the kidnapping couple; uniformed officers at the scene of the home invasion having already confirmed that the baby had been taken. Back at SRU headquarters, Winnie was working feverishly to obtain as much information as she could about the kidnappers. The female member of the pair was named Jessie, and Greg attempted to convince her, along with her companion, to stop running, but to no avail.
"Let's go to Plan 'B'," Greg announced to the team.
Ed asked Lewis if he was ready to proceed with tagging the stolen silver BMW with a GPS tracking device.
"Yes, sir!" Lou confirmed, once again relegated to the role of taking less-lethal action.
Ed advised Spike to get into position so Lou could aim for the rear bumper; told Donna to get ready to distract the driver. If Lou was successful, Greg wanted the team to back off on the chase.
"Go now!" Ed commanded, and Donna reacted immediately. With a sudden burst of speed, she shot ahead of the stolen BMW, then slowed so she matched its speed while maintaining a slight lead. Unfortunately, the ruse didn't quite work. The fleeing couple caught sight of Lewis with his 'weapon' and panicked.
"Cover's blown, Lewis! You've got no time," Ed warned, seeing that Jessie had screamed and had ducked for cover.
His words caused Donna's mind to flip back to the old drug case again. She saw herself sitting in the crack house, caught up in the struggle she had of dealing with the new development and the role she had to play in the bust.
Do I risk blowing my cover? I have to. There's a baby at risk. I have to get out of here, now, and warn the team.
The baby was awake and fussing; its weak cries made Donna all the more frantic to get out of the house. Monty was in a foul mood, and Babs had no idea how to comfort the infant. She kept bouncing him on her lap without an ounce of tenderness, neglecting to provide support for his tiny head and neck. When that failed to placate him, Babs tried singing. Her voice came out in scratchy, off-key tones, and the lack of musicality seemed to further cause the baby distress.
"Hey, you!" Babs called out in Donna's direction. "It's Melinda, right? Grab that backpack over there."
Donna reacted lazily, as if she were still hung over. With deliberately slow movements, she crawled over to the backpack.
"Move it! C'mon, hurry up. Jeez!" Babs hollered, "I haven't got all day!"
"This?" Donna-as-Melinda asked dumbly as she knelt in front of the open pack.
"Yeah, that," Babs snarled with impatience. "See if there are diapers or baby food in there or something."
Donna peeked inside. "I don't see nothin' in here like that," she replied, looking up at Babs with a bewildered expression.
"Damnit," Babs swore under her breath. "This kid needs a change and he needs stuff to eat."
It was the opportunity Donna was waiting for, and she seized it. "Uh, I could go get stuff."
A look of surprise crossed Babs' face. She looked back at Donna with new interest. "Yeah? Really?"
Donna nodded. "Yeah..."
"Good. 'Bout time you did something else than sit around here on your lazy ass," Babs ground out. "I don't know why Wheeler lets you stick around here as long as you do, anyway."
"I-I just don't have any m- money to buy anything right now," Donna stammered.
"So steal it, dumb-ass!" she rejoined with scorn in her eyes. "If you can't be resourceful in this world, you're good as dead. Now get going, and don't bother to come back if you can't manage to get anything useful."
"Okay, I'm going," Donna answered meekly, bowing her head down as if she was fearful of being physically beaten.
She slipped out of the house quietly, aware that the sun was setting. In a little under an hour, her team would be ready to move in…
Lewis fired the GPS tracker at the fleeing SUV. He hit his mark, and the device held.
"Spike, I'm going to fall back," Donna advised her team mate, once Ed confirmed that the GPS signal was functioning properly.
"Copy that," Spike replied. They all decelerated, allowing the kidnappers the freedom to drive off. The SRU officers were confident the GPS signal would allow them to follow at a safe speed and distance that did not endanger the baby.
Moments later, Winnie announced that she'd uncovered disturbing information about the young male kidnapper, who was identified as one Terry Dornan. Not only did he have a record, but he'd almost killed another man two months prior.
Donna's insides seized painfully at this news. With a violent history, Terry Dornan was clearly not the sort of person anyone would want around a newborn baby.
Donna had just walked past the non-descript van a couple members of her team were using for surveillance of the drug house. She realised they must be wondering what she was doing leaving the house, but she could not risk being seen talking to them. As she ambled down the cracked, trash-strewn sidewalk towards a tiny strip mall nearby, she stopped suddenly in her tracks. Someone was trying to get her attention.
"Psst… Hey… Hey, Mel!"
She turned and saw Zeke, another one of Monty and Wheeler's acquaintances and drug-house denizens. He was probably twenty years old, skeletal and already balding. His ears were large, and he had several rotting teeth in his small mouth. Despite his ill appearance, Zeke was an energetic chatterbox whose manic movements were often a source of irritation for those around him when he refused to sit still and shut up.
"What do you want, Zeke?" Donna asked impatiently. She had to lose him, fast, or he would ruin any chance she had of making contact with her team.
"Mel," Zeke sniffed, "that girl who shown up earlier… What did she want, huh?"
"What do you think she wanted, Zeke?" Sarcasm coloured her question-as-an-answer.
Zeke bounced from foot to foot and grinned. "Heh-heh!" he giggled. "Right, right! Sure, we all know what she wanted, but… I know she had a kid with her when she went in. I saw her stuff him inside her pack a few blocks back."
"So, what?" Donna asked airily, feigning disinterest.
"She didn't have no pack when she came out!" Zeke clapped his hands together.
"Babs took the baby," Donna explained. "Why do you care?"
"Bet that made Monty pretty upset," Zeke chortled, sidling up to Donna, invading her personal space. She could smell his rank breath and unwashed odor, and she put on a burst of speed to hopefully outpace him.
Zeke, however, was not going to be left behind. "Wait up, sister," he called. "You wanna know why Babs wanted that baby?"
"No," Donna said irritably, getting more upset with herself that she was unable to make Zeke leave her alone. "All I care is that she doesn't make Wheeler cut me off if I don't get her the stuff she needs for the baby."
Zeke's grin broadened and he let out a giggle. "Ah, Wheeler! What a stupid name, you know? Like he's supposed to be some big 'wheeler-dealer', or something. But he's not just a dealer, y'know. He's something much nastier…"
Donna turned to him and fixed her gaze on his jittery form. When he noticed she was looking at him, he shoved his hands to his face to stifle another giggle. Then he made a zipping gesture across his lips; his eyes getting shifty and secretive.
Rolling her eyes, Donna once more tried to walk on.
"Wheeler and Babs – they're not nice people. Not nice, at all," Zeke stated. "Monty thinks he knows 'em, but he's just mush-for-brains. He doesn't know half of what they're into. Not half!"
Keenly aware that if Zeke knew something more about the drug dealers that she and her team did not know, now was the time to find out. Donna stopped, and seemed to consider what he'd said. "They're into more than just the usual stuff? Really? You could tell me, you know. Promise I won't tell a soul," she implored.
Zeke seemed to enjoy being begged, but still hedged. "Well, I dunno…"
"You're full of it," Donna concluded after a pause, a note of challenge in her voice. "Stop wasting my time. You don't know anything." She made a move to continue on, hoping Zeke would rise to her bait, not looking back once as she sauntered off.
"Okay, okay!" Zeke called out. "Hey, wait, sister! Come back. I'll tell you my secret. I'll tell you!"
"Yeah, whatever, Zeke," Donna called back, raising a dismissive hand.
Zeke grunted and ran to catch up to her. "You really wanna know, right? What I know could get me in trouble if they knew that I knew and was tellin' you," he said, with a conspiratorial whisper.
"So are you gonna tell me, or not?" Donna sighed impatiently. "Clock's ticking. If I don't get back to Babs soon, she's not gonna be a happy camper."
"Hey, screw Babs, and screw Wheeler!" Zeke retorted, his face suddenly turning dark as all prior traces of giddy playfulness vanished.
Donna raised an eyebrow at this unexpected outburst and flip in his demeanour. She hadn't realised Zeke could be so mercurial.
"Yeah, everyone knows that Wheeler deals drugs and can afford those fancy suits and those flashy cars. But he's also makin' a pile of money on the internet… Him and Babs… sellin' dirty pictures… of kids."
"What?!" Donna could hardly conceal her shock and revulsion.
"You heard me, sister," Zeke said sourly. "Now, I ain't no saint; I freely admit that. I'm no good to anybody, and I never claimed to be, neither… but that… that sort of thing's just wrong, sister. Y'know? Sick, sick stuff, I'm tellin' ya."
"Right… very sick…" Donna managed to answer feebly, her mind flying in a thousand directions at once, wondering if anyone in Vice was aware of Wheeler and Babs' other 'activities', because it was the first she was hearing of it. Their profile of Wheeler was obviously woefully incomplete if they had missed this crucial and disturbing piece about him… With this new information, Donna wanted to be sure their current warrants covered anything they might find related to these new despicable crimes Zeke was insinuating. But the more charges they could make stick to Wheeler, the better…
Team One had fallen back as planned, keeping careful watch on the BMW's location on their GPS scanners. Luck, however, would not be on their side. As Ed watched, the flashing orange dot representing their quarry inexplicably blinked out and did not re-appear. The tracking device either became dislodged, or was malfunctioning. Either way, they were about to lose the kidnappers, and with them, any hope of rescuing the baby.
Undaunted, Ed cast a discerning eye across several lanes of traffic. "I see him," he announced, "they're taking the off-ramp."
"Okay, team," Greg said, "let's take the next exit and look back."
Unfortunately, the 'next exit' was much further down their stretch of road, making a visual search for the silver SUV a very difficult task.
"Team: any eyes on the subject?" Ed queried.
"Negative," Lou reported despondently.
"Winnie, you still trying that number?" Greg asked the dispatcher.
"No answer last four times," she replied.
The SRU sergeant instructed her to keep trying, and also asked if she had any further information about Dornan. The whole team listened as Winnie gave a brief synopsis of what she uncovered regarding Dornan's sorry life; everything from being an orphan to being shuffled from foster home to foster home until he was eighteen.
"Let's keep looking, guys," Greg sighed, all-too-aware that they had probably lost the trail completely.
They'd been driving aimlessly for nearly ten minutes when Winnie finally managed to get through to Jessie's cell phone. When the girl answered, she immediately patched the call through to Greg.
Relieved, Greg once more tried to connect with Jessie on a personal level. "Jessie, hey! It's Greg Parker again. I'm really glad to hear that you're okay…"
In the background, the baby's babbles and squeals could be heard.
"So, where are you?" Greg asked casually.
"We're… we're in… we're safe, okay? We're gonna turn ourselves in; we just need to do this one thing," Jessie answered haltingly.
The baby's squeals took on an irritable edge again, a change not lost on Greg. "Owen's still hungry, huh? How're you coming with that formula?"
"I don't know how to make it," a chagrined Jessie confessed, obviously upset at her own ignorance. "I should know this! What am I doing?"
Greg saw an opportunity to treat the frightened and upset girl with tenderness. He would not allow her to berate herself any longer, and said kindly: "Jessie, you know who was born knowing this stuff? Nobody. Havin' a baby, that's one thing. Taking care of him, honey, that's something else. You can't do it on the run."
"Oh, yeah. Well, if I was a real mother, you know, I would have learnt," the girl emotional girl responded. She was on the verge on tears. "I wouldn't have just… given him up."
The girl's self-recrimination was stark, and Donna felt instant sympathy. She regrets giving up her child… Not like that other girl who gave her son up to drug dealers and child pornographers in exchange for drugs, she thought bitterly.
"Or," Greg countered, "or you knew what your baby would need, and you made sure he got it, like a real mother would... So, Jessie, why don't you tell me where you are?"
For a moment, the team feared she would not give in. They heard her sigh deeply, and then: "We're at the Northern Dream Park, okay? We're almost done, and then we're coming in downtown."
A thankful Greg said, "Okay, Jessie, just stay on the line-" but the girl cut him off urgently.
"I gotta go!"
The line went dead.
"Listen, Zeke, thanks for telling me about… you know… that stuff about Wheeler and Babs…" Donna said to the young drug addict, "but right now, I really gotta go grab what I promised I'd get for Babs at that little pharmacy down there in that strip mall."
"Oh, yeah!" Zeke said brightly. "Right, right. You want me to buzz off?"
"Pretty much," Donna replied, relieved he was getting the message at last.
"You got it, sister," he said with a grin. He saluted her and wandered off, disappearing into an alleyway to her left.
As soon as she was sure he was out of sight and hearing, Donna dug out her cell phone. She dialled Commander Brad McCrimmon's number hurriedly, knowing how vital it was that the team be made aware of the baby's presence.
When he answered, she wasted no time. "The team needs to stand down."
"What?" McCrimmon sounded perplexed. "Why? What's wrong? Where are you?"
"I've had to leave the house. There's been a complicating factor," Donna explained quickly. "There's a baby in there right now. A girl showed up about twenty minutes ago and pretty much sold him for the price of a couple ounces of coke."
"Damn," the Vice commander swore.
"Commander, there's more…"
"What is it?" McCrimmon pressed.
Donna sucked in a breath, then swallowed to combat the sour taste at the back of her throat. "One of the druggies told me that Wheeler and Babs are into selling internet porn involving minors. Was anyone aware of this side of Wheeler's 'business'?"
"No," McCrimmon responded after a thoughtful pause. "But it'll just add to the list of charges we can throw at Wheeler and his gang."
"The baby," Donna began slowly, "it's only a few weeks old. Commander, if anything happens to him… The mother just dropped him right into the hands of this terrible woman who has no idea how to care for him. I didn't get a name for her, or the baby. She's clearly a runaway, but the last place her kid should be is in a drug house just when we're planning to bust in there."
"I hear you, Sabine," McCrimmon muttered grimly. "Head back there. Do whatever you can to keep the baby safe for now. I'll make sure the guys on surveillance know about the situation. The team will stand down until we can figure out a way to get the baby out of there without tipping our hand. The raid is a no-go for tonight."
"Okay," Donna replied, heaving a sigh of relief. "But… Just a heads-up, Commander… I may need to use a 'get-out-of-jail free' card in a few minutes, here."
"Why is that?"
"Because I'm about to go shopping for some baby supplies," Donna stated, "and I'm going to be employing that old five-finger discount…"
Of all the places for the kidnappers to flee, the Northern Dream Park was the last one on Donna's mind. It was obvious they weren't thinking straight to begin with, and now they were breaking into an amusement park that was closed for the winter months. What did they hope to do? Run some rides for their own personal enjoyment? Nothing made sense.
Team One pulled into the parking lot without the sirens blaring to announce their presence. The silver BMW was the only other vehicle there, and it was devoid of occupancy. The kidnappers still had to be in the vicinity if they were moving on foot.
Ed called his own number for Sierra One; paired off Spike and Lewis as Alpha team and Donna and Wordy as Bravo team. He directed the Alphas to the west side of the park while the Bravos were to take the east. While this was going on, each officer was grabbing gear from the trucks. Wordy was the first to inquire about lethal and non-lethal tactics.
"Weapons?" the CQB specialist queried.
Ed reasoned that while Terry Dornan might be unarmed, he was violent and unstable. "Tasers if we can," he instructed.
"What about long-range?" Spike put in.
"Rubber bullets," replied the team leader. "That baby is the priority… If he gives us no choice, we do what we gotta do."
"Clear!" Lou stated.
"Clear!" Spike echoed.
Donna, however, felt a sudden uptick in her heart-rate as soon as Ed had spoken those last few words. If he gives us no choice, we do what we gotta do. It was a euphemism for 'use lethal force', and it left Donna nervous and unsettled.
With a baby in the mix…
"I don't think-" she raised her voice in protest, neglecting the use of the affirmative response expected of her after receiving an instruction.
Ed shot her a piercing look, and her objection died on her lips. She felt her stomach flip and her heart drop. Here she was, the team rookie, and she'd overstepped her bounds by challenging her TL.
Ed dismissed the others, and turned his attention back to her. "Donna, you got a problem?"
For a moment, she thought she would allow her misplaced indignation to rise to the surface, but instead of digging herself further into the trench she'd already started digging with her first infraction, she bit her tongue and kept her peace. "No, I'm good," she finally replied, averting her glance.
"You sure?" Ed pressed, steely-eyed gaze still pinning her in place.
"Yep," she replied, throwing a mask of dispassionate professionalism on her face to hide the fact that she was still churning inside. Being under Ed's scrutiny like that was an intensely uncomfortable feeling, and Donna was thankful he let the incident go without further questioning.
Had she been more aware of her surroundings, she would have noticed that Greg had observed the entire exchange.
The Alpha-Bravo teams went their separate ways, covering the park on foot. Donna jogged with Wordy past empty rides and snow-covered foliage, grateful they were conducting the search while the place was closed. Had the park been open for business, their chances of finding the kidnappers and the baby would have been considerably more difficult with hundreds of families with children and babies milling about the place.
"There's nothing in quadrant E2," Donna reported to Greg, as she and Wordy dashed along their chosen pathway.
"No dice at W4," Spike commented.
"Need a better vantage point," Ed stated, as he scaled the metal stairs of one of the rides. "Sierra One, in position. No sign… Hold on, hold on… At the carousel! Bravo team, that's closest to you."
Immediately, Donna turned towards the ride in question. "There it is," she said quietly, pointing to it. She and Wordsworth softened their footfalls and crouched so as to be as stealthy as possible in their approach.
"Alpha team, what's your approach?" asked Ed.
"Alpha team's on the move, but we're far!" Spike answered ruefully.
Donna and Wordy watched the pair of kidnappers for a few moments, trying to stay concealed while narrowing the gap between them and the carousel, when Ed's tense voice came over the comm: "He's escalating; he's got the baby."
Inexplicably, Dornan fled from the carousel with the baby, leaving Jessie behind even as she cried out for him to return. The young man hurried down one of the wet, icy paths, splashing slushy water as he ran. He paused momentarily to take quick note of his bearings, and in doing so, caught sight of Wordy and Donna.
"He's seen us," Donna said, moving out of their 'hiding spot' now that it was pointless to remain hidden.
"Cover's blown; we're in pursuit!" Wordy announced to the rest of the team, letting them know that they no longer had the element of surprise.
"I want my phone call," Donna-as-Melinda demanded, raising her voice to obnoxiously high levels. "I know I'm supposed to get a phone call!"
The pudgy, balding, plainclothes store security guy folded his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes. "You don't get anything until I say you do, missy. You're just gonna sit right here until the cops come. You can ask them for a phone call."
Donna let out a loud noise showing her exasperation. She squirmed in the uncomfortable, plastic chair inside the cubby-hole of a room that was used to hold people caught stealing from the pharmacy. "Okay, yeah, so I grabbed a bunch of stuff. But I was gonna pay for it… eventually. Look, mister," she said, taking a conciliatory tone, "you see the kinda stuff I was taking offa the shelf, right? Pampers and baby formula. That's all."
"I don't give a shit what you were taking, sweet cheeks," the security guard growled back, "you didn't pay for it. In this country, that's called 'shoplifting'."
"You're pretty heartless, you know that?" Donna said accusingly. "Y'think I was taking that stuff for me? That I like eating baby formula? Or- or that I need diapers? Are you that brainless? There's a baby out there, and he's filthy and his mama's not comin' back for him, so he needs food."
There was a slight shift in the guard's demeanour. His expression softened slightly, but hardened again a second later. "Honey, I've heard all kinds of sob stories before; real heart-breakers. Don't change the fact that you broke the law. If there's a baby that's needing diapers and food, well you can tell the cops all about 'im when they come and get you. Now you just sit right there like a good girl while I go make sure they're on their way."
The man left the tiny room, and Donna stuck out her tongue at his retreating form for good measure. She just hoped he really was calling the police. Donna knew that the longer she sat there waiting, the longer the baby was going to be at the mercy of Babs and Wheeler, and God knew what else. She shuddered involuntarily as she recalled what Zeke told her…
From his vantage point, Ed issued a few clipped commands to his team: "Wordy: on the girl; Donna: follow the male; Spike and Lou: get to the carousel!"
Wordy and Donna jumped into action. "I got him!" Donna declared, rushing after the fleeing Dornan.
"You got him?" Wordy confirmed as he saw Donna chase after the youth, and said, "splitting up!" as he changed direction to get to Jessie.
Donna heard the girl call out Terry's name again as she ran; heard Wordy order Jessie to stay where she was, in spite of her protests that she go after him. Seconds later, Lou and Spike made it to Wordy and Jessie. They tried to calm her while Lou told Wordy to go with Donna in her pursuit of Terry and the baby.
When is that store security guy going to bring the real cops in? Donna thought to herself. She'd been sitting for half an hour already; the clock mounted on the dingy wall told her as much. The second hand kept ticking by noisily, and she wondered if the rent-a-cop had forgotten about her. He'd confiscated her cell phone, so there was no chance she could call her commander to speed up the process.
Ten minutes later, Donna heard the sound of sirens, muted through the walls of the store. She counted several emergency response vehicles: police, fire and ambulance. Something big was evidently happening in the neighbourhood. She allowed another half-hour of waiting to tick by, but anxious to get back to the house for the sake of the infant, Donna started banging a fist on the locked door.
"Hey, come on! Lemme outta here," she called. "What's taking so long? You can't hold me here forever; it's a violation of my human rights! Lemme out!"
She kept up an insistent knocking, knowing that the noise would eventually grab someone's attention.
"Donna, wait on my go," Ed instructed, as she trailed the youth through a chain-link gate and enclosure that led to the roller-coaster ride. She complied and watched Terry continue to race for the stairs. As she stood waiting, she listened to the following exchange between her sergeant and her team leader, something she would remember for a long time afterwards:
"Boss, he's headed for the stairs and he's got the baby," Ed advised Greg, following every move through the scope of his weapon.
"Eddie, stop him!" came Greg's breathless command.
"He's too far to 'tase'," warned Ed, knowing the Taser's range would be woefully short from his location.
"Then go lethal!"
"Rubber bullets?"
"That might not do it, Ed! If he makes it up there, that baby could die!"
At these words, Donna went down on one knee to steady herself to take aim at Dornan.
"Copy that," Ed said. "I don't have a clear shot."
Donna brought up her weapon and tried to frame Terry in her sights.
"Sabine, do you have the solution?"
For a couple seconds, the young man carrying the infant filled her field of vision. She saw a flash of his blond hair and the hood of the baby's blanket.
Innocent infant.
"Sabine, you have 'Scorpio'," she heard Ed say, "take the shot."
The baby, she thought desperately, what if I hit the baby?
Nevertheless, she brought her MP5 up again, but saw Dornan slip past her range.
"Negative," she said shakily, "no solution." Part of her was relieved at the lost opportunity, while the other part warned that the lost opportunity might be costly.
Donna rose from her position to continue on foot after Dornan.
"The baby's in jeopardy. He's going up the 'coaster, but he can't go anywhere once he's reached the top," Ed said of Dornan, who truly was scaling the stairs up the ride.
"Yes he can," Greg interjected, still sounding out-of-breath. "He can go the way his father went, Ed: he can jump!"
Oh, no! Donna felt her gut react to Greg's words by clenching painfully. She didn't want to think that Dornan would actually jump with the baby… A fall from the top of the roller coaster would surely kill them both. She poured on the speed and heard Wordy not far behind. She had to catch up to the suicidal young man before he had a chance to harm the infant.
"Donna; Wordy, wait on my lead!" Greg commanded.
"Copy!" Donna called in reply as she ran.
"Copy," echoed Wordsworth.
Donna reached the base of the steps first. Above her, Terry Dornan continued his ascent, determined to reach the top. She began to follow but stopped on the first landing to wait for Greg. He reached her position seconds later, and she let him slide past her in order to try to make contact with Terry.
"I've been waiting here forever! Come on!" Donna shouted vainly. She kicked at the door in frustration.
Finally, her persistence was rewarded. She heard the jingling of a keychain. "Hold your horses, I'm coming," the rent-a-cop muttered. "Geez, you don't know how to shut up, do you?"
"What took you so long?" Donna seethed when the door opened. "I coulda been choking to death in here, y'know."
"Shut your trap," the store cop snapped. "I was distracted. Big fire down the road. Can't say I'm sorry to see it go up in flames. Good riddance to crack houses!"
It took every ounce of control Donna possessed not to react to the man's words. Every nerve was on edge as she contemplated what could have gone wrong in the time she left the house to the time she was caught shoplifting. Did everyone get out of the house? Would there be any useable evidence left for her team to recover? Most of all, was the baby okay?
"Oh, so that's what all those sirens were about, huh?" she ventured to ask, coolly masking her distress at the fact her drug case had just literally gone up in smoke.
"Yeah," the store detective replied. "That's why the cops are a little too busy to deal with you right now, see? They probably got druggies crawlin' out of that hellhole to arrest."
"How much longer are you gonna keep me here?" Donna groused loudly. "Come on, man. At least let me make a phone call, will ya? I want my cell phone back. It's mine; you had no right to take it."
The man contemplated for a few seconds, and finally dug into his pocket. "Fine," he muttered, shoving the device into her waiting hand. "Maybe you'll even call someone who cares!"
After asking for privacy, which was grudgingly granted, Donna quickly called Commander McCrimmon…
The debrief was agonizing, made worse when Donna saw the look of accusation mixed with disapproval on Ed's face, a look he channeled straight towards her. Greg had just finished recounting her failure to take the shot when she had been ordered to. When given the opportunity to speak up about it, Donna kept her silence, choosing to maintain that she never had the shot in the first place. But seeing Ed's reaction – knowing he was disappointed in her performance – sent her into an uncomfortable place of self-doubt and recrimination. Baby Liam was safe, yes, but Terry Dornan was dead. Had Greg not taken hold of the baby before the young man's final run at the pinnacle of the roller coaster…
Another half-hour elapsed before a pair of uniformed officers showed up at the pharmacy to 'arrest' Donna after she reached her commanding officer.
"It's about time you showed up," the store detective complained to the pair of cops. "I caught her trying to make off with all this stuff." He gestured to the couple tins of baby formula and the package of diapers on a shelf in the room.
"Yeah, we'll take it from here," one of the officers named Fulton said dismissively. "Thanks for the tip. We'll make sure she gets booked on charges of petty theft. Good afternoon to you."
Donna obediently put her hands behind her back while Fulton handcuffed her and led her out of the room to a police van in the parking lot. Waiting inside was a grim-faced Commander McCrimmon. He waited until Constable Fulton removed the cuffs before speaking.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, fine," Donna answered anxiously. "What the hell happened to the drug house?"
"We're not quite sure, yet," McCrimmon replied. "Our surveillance guys – Quinn and Epstein – they say that the young mother went back to the house soon after you left. A few minutes after she entered the house, a commotion was heard. Shouts; breaking glass, that sort of thing."
"And then?" Donna pressed him to finish.
McCrimmon sighed. "Then they reported screaming, and smoke started filling the living room. Three people fled the house, but by the time our guys had called the fire department and backup, the place was an inferno."
"Brad…" Donna started slowly, using his first name so he would know she was no longer in professional mode, "the baby… what about the baby?"
The commander shook his head. "When Quinn and Epstein saw the three people flee, they knew the girl and baby were still inside. Even with the smoke and fire, those guys still went inside that blaze to see what they could find. It was all very rushed, but they say they saw the young mother on the floor, out cold. Quinn scooped her up and brought her outside. Epstein found the infant… But… by then, it was too late."
Donna felt her jaw clenching. Fury built up inside her like a geyser waiting to break the surface, and she wanted to slam her fists into the side on the van. For several long minutes, she didn't know what to do or say. Eventually, she composed herself.
"Are Quinn and Epstein okay?"
"They're fine. Minimal smoke inhalation," McCrimmon responded. "Nothing to worry about."
"And the three who escaped the fire? Babs, Wheeler and Monty?"
"Yeah," McCrimmon affirmed. "They didn't manage to get too far. Found 'em holed up in another of Wheeler's places. We'll get to the bottom of what happened once they've been processed."
"Good," Donna said, though her voice was low and bitter. She felt no elation over the news that the drug dealer and his associates had been apprehended. Her heart was still too raw over the senseless death of the infant. Without warning, her eyes clouded, and she swiped at the tear that escaped down her cheek.
"Hey, what's wrong?" McCrimmon asked, somewhat mortified by this display of emotion.
"Nothing," Donna responded in a hollow tone, all the while knowing she was not at all fine, but she wasn't about to reveal that to the veteran cop in front of her.
"Er, what you told me about Wheeler and Babs… that intel about their 'extra-curricular' activities…" McCrimmon ventured.
"What about it?"
McCrimmon shifted uncomfortably. "Epstein said he also spotted a smashed-up laptop and one of those web cameras when he went inside… Um… and when he found the infant and carried him out, he saw burns on the body."
"Burns? From the fire?" Donna gasped, thoroughly horrified.
McCrimmon shook his head once. "Um… the coroner will need to confirm, but… Epstein says they looked like cigarette burns..."
For a long time after the debriefing, Donna sat forlornly in the locker-room, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her mind kept alternating between memories of the lost infant from that long-ago case and Ed Lane's words when he called her to task for her failure to take out Terry Dornan.
"The only thing more dangerous than a cop who shoots too fast is a cop who can't shoot when they need to," Ed had stated, his penetrating gaze cutting through her like a laser. "Now, you had the shot, and I saw it."
Still grief-stricken, Donna remained defensive about her inaction. "You saw it?"
"Yeah."
"Well, where were you, then?" she asked him indignantly. "Because where I was? I was pointing a gun at a scared kid with a baby in his hands!"
She took in a shaky breath, and Ed, realising she was on edge emotionally, eased up on the pressure by a fraction. His voice was not as hard when he spoke again: "We got an order-"
"You questioned the order!" Donna reminded him in a harsh whisper.
"Yeah, I did," Ed admitted, "but the boss had information we didn't have. Now, I asked a question, and then I did my job, like a member of this team is supposed to, alright?"
He looked at her intently, and Donna again felt pinned down.
"Are you a member of this team?" he asked.
She took a few moments before answering, because she knew a weed of discontent had sprung up, and it was choking off the response she knew she had to make. She knew her response needed to be an emphatic "yes". Not just to save face, or to prove she still had the skills to do the job, but because she had to remind herself that in spite of the nature of the job and all the unforeseen complications, she needed to be on this team, and the team needed her.
"Yes," she finally replied, assured that her answer was genuine.
Ed sighed in relief, seeing the truth in her answer. "That's good."
"Does this job get any easier?" she asked miserably, a pained expression etched on her tired face.
With a single shake of his head, Ed answered simply and honestly: "No."
After that, she departed for the locker room, not seeing that Greg Parker had been observing the exchange.
Donna waited until she was sure everyone from Team One had gone home before she herself made a move. The dispatcher named Ben was on the late shift, and she gave a half-hearted wave as she passed by the desk on her way out. She thought about baby Liam and how he had been reunited with his parents. His birth mother, Jessie, in spite of how much she had wanted to be with him and had tried to be protective of him, would be facing charges in relation to her actions that day.
And some babies don't even get names, much less a happy ending, she mused sadly on her drive to her apartment. The baby who had died in the fire had indeed been nameless, and coroner who performed the autopsy had also been able to confirm that the burns found on him had been deliberately caused.
Donna gripped the steering wheel tightly, all the while knowing it was particularly pointless to rehash the old tragedy. Still, the newspapers at the time used the case as an example of the failure of authorities to 'take a bite out of crime'; how more innocent lives would be lost unless drastic changes were made.
I sat there and watched a teenager give up her child for drugs. I let it happen, all because I wasn't supposed to blow my cover. The ends were supposed to justify the means. I wanted to quit so badly after that case… And now, today's case had to go and dredge up all those old, awful memories…
The clock on the dashboard read 7:58 PM. It suddenly occurred to Donna that it was Wednesday night.
"Ballroom Blitz," she said aloud, remembering the dance class from the week before. If she hurried, she reasoned could still make it for most of the lesson. Maybe that nice guy – Hank – will be there, she thought, and felt decidedly cheered at the notion she might see him again.
There's something about him, Donna thought. She was surprised by the strong pull of emotion she felt when she realised she would actually be terribly disappointed if he was not there.
She pulled into the parking lot of the community centre and screeched to a halt. By then, it was twenty minutes past the hour. Nevertheless, Donna dashed through the doors and practically threw her admission fee at Mary, the same volunteer she'd met a week ago.
"Thanks!" Mary called after her. "Have fun, now!"
Donna didn't pause to reply or to take another one of the stick-on name labels.
You're going to feel pretty stupid for running in here if Hank didn't come tonight, you idiot, Donna's inner voice mocked. Music was wafting from the gym: a lively jazz piece that caused her to think that tonight's lesson might be something swing-related. She pushed open the doors as quietly as possible and took in the dancers on the floor.
Doris and Lance, the instructors, were giving individual attention to struggling couples on whatever dance steps they'd been taught earlier in the evening.
Initially, Donna did not see Hank. Scanning the room further, she caught sight of two men in the far left corner who were laughing at something one of them had done. She recognized them instantly: Hank and Pete.
He did come tonight! An unconscious smile tugged at her mouth as she watched the pair of friends set up again to repeat the dance steps they had been shown.
The music was still playing, and it was evident to Donna that there was an even number of dancers tonight. Instead of interrupting the proceedings, she chose to take a seat and merely observe for the time being. Everyone was too absorbed in what they were doing to have noticed her arrival, anyway, and she quite frankly didn't mind the down time. She kept her eyes on Hank and Pete, and marvelled at how naturally the steps seemed to come to Hank. Pete, on the other hand, seemed to be cursed with a lack of coordination on his feet.
Presently, the song ended, and all the participants broke apart.
"Good job, everyone," Doris commended. "I think you're all coming along splendidly with the basics of the East Coast Swing. Now, we're going to show you how to vary the steps a little…"
Donna watched from her seat as the instructors counted the slow-slow-quick-quick basic steps into a clockwise rotation, and back to the basic steps once more.
"Think you can do it? I know you can!" Lance called out. "Let's see you all try."
The dancers paired up again, and the music played. Donna's eyes never left Hank, and she saw how patient he was with Pete's mistakes; how he encouraged him, and how he kept a positive attitude even when Pete got frustrated.
"When did you sneak in here, 'Ginger'?"
Donna started. She'd been so focused on Hank and Pete's progress, she hadn't noticed that Doris spotted her.
"Oh, just a few minutes ago," Donna replied, and smiled shyly at the other woman.
"No partner again, tonight?" she asked.
"Not tonight," Donna answered. "It's okay; I think I'll just… watch tonight."
Doris took a quick glance towards the left, following Donna's line of sight.
"Mm-hmm," she said, turning back with a wink of comprehension and a grin. "I see… Well, enjoy the 'view', then!"
Donna felt herself blush briefly as Doris hurried off to assist another couple.
Twenty minutes later, the lesson came to a close. Lance and Doris gave all the attendees some final encouragement, and then bid them goodnight, with the hope that they return for more 'Ballroom Blitz' the following week.
Several people, singles and couples alike began collecting their jackets and other belongings from their chairs. They filed past Donna through the gym doors, chatting away about how much fun the evening had been.
Hank and Pete were among the last to leave, and Donna stood up as they neared the gym's exit. Immediately, Hank broke into a smile as he saw her.
"Donna!" he said, beaming. "I didn't think you were going to come tonight."
"I was late," she said ruefully.
"Well, it's good to see you," Hank added. "You remember my buddy, Pete, right?"
Donna smiled at the other man. "Of course. Nice to see you again, Pete," she said kindly. "Think you'll be dance-floor-ready for your sister's wedding? Hank looks like he's a great coach."
"Ehhh…" Pete hedged. "I'll never be a pro, but I think I'll be able to fake it enough to fool the rest of the guests."
"You know, you could have cut in," Hank said to Donna. "Pete got way more attention from me tonight than he deserved… and you wouldn't have stepped on my toes."
"Ouch," Pete said, pretending to be hurt by his friend's 'insult'.
"Thanks for that," Donna said, "but I had a long day, running around and chasing down bad guys. It was actually nice to just sit and watch the action for a change."
"Sorry you had a rough day," Hank commented. "Listen, I know you barely know us, but Pete and I were going to grab a drink tonight; would you like to come with us?"
Donna paused for a moment. After the kind of day she'd experienced, she told herself she definitely deserved the outing… And it would certainly give you an opportunity to get to know Hank better, she thought.
"Yes, alright," she answered, warmed by the delighted reaction she read on Hank's face.
Hmmm, she thought, as the three of them exited, I could get used to a face like that… Who knows where this could lead?