Hey everyone. In spite of my best intentions, I know it's been 8 days since I uploaded a new chapter... So sorry! Here it is. Hope to wrap this up in 2 - 3 more chapters. Enjoy.

Chapter 14

"Are we jus' gonna stand around an' wait for this asshole to strike?" Jesus! We know what that sick fuck's plannin' to do t'her. We gotta come up with a game plan here—and soon." Frank's usual cool demeanor was long gone, and Elliot found himself with their roles reversed.

"Frank, calm down! What exactly did Putnam say?"

"She said they found two more men on Delia's payroll posin' as agents… And whatever's goin' down's likely to happen in the next forty-eight hours."

"Fuck!" Elliot lowered himself into the chair across from him.

The older agent slumped back in his seat, drawing his hands down over his face. For the first time since Elliot had known him, Frank Barrett was showing every day of his sixty-something years. He looked over at Elliot, a rueful grin briefly lighting his face. "Jesus, I'm sorry… Guess I'm not used to carin' so much—usually it's pretty damned impersonal. But goddamn, Stabler… That woman a yours—she's somethin' else. She has a way a gettin' under a man's skin." He paused for a moment then nodded at Elliot. "An' you're no slouch either." Frank turned away, uncomfortable at his rare display of emotion. "I don't have a lotta people in my life to give a damn about, an' it jus' so happens I give a damn 'bout the two a you."

Elliot sat for a moment contemplating the man before him who'd just revealed a piece of his soul, and realized he'd become quite fond of him over the course of the few months he'd been with the FBI—and especially over the past week. "Then whaddaya say we figure out how to keep her safe, Frank." The two men made eye contact as a partnership shifted and a friendship was forged.

Saturday, December 8th

Elliot had folded up his sorry excuse for a bed and stashed it away, and now he sat watching Olivia—the woman he loved with every fiber of his being—as she finally slumbered peacefully. His mind replayed the conversation he'd had with Frank, and raw terror clutched at his heart, momentarily paralyzing him. He couldn't allow it to take hold: He knew if ever he needed a clear head, it was now. He hated to wake her—it'd only been a few short hours since she'd fallen into a deep sleep… The rest of the night he'd heard her tossing and turning fitfully. He called softly to her. "Hey baby, wake up…"

"Mmmm…" Olivia groaned and rolled over on to her stomach, hoping to hold onto the last vestiges of the sleep that had eluded her until the early morning hours.

"Liv… Wake up!"

She opened her eyes, and pushed herself up with one arm, before coming fully conscious and realizing it was Elliot who'd wakened her. "El...?" She rubbed sleepily at her eyes and sank back down into her pillow. "What d'you want…? Are you leaving? What time is it…?"

"I want you to come over here so we can talk, baby. Come on, sleepy head, wake up."

Olivia turned over and pushed the covers aside, raising herself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and dropping her feet to the floor. "I gotta pee first, El… Gimme a minute." She groggily made her way to the bathroom.

Elliot leaned back into the comfy cushions on the settee, appreciating the feel of something softer than his sleeping accommodations. If it wasn't so damn short, he'd be camping out on it. He listened while Olivia flushed, and then heard running water… He grinned to himself, knowing she wouldn't be leaving the bathroom until she'd washed her face and brushed her teeth, so he might as well cool his jets.

In spite of her ministrations, she couldn't wash the fatigue from her pretty face and her auburn waves were hopelessly tangled… It was beyond him how she always looked sexy as hell, no matter what state she was in. "D'you know it's only five o'clock, Elliot?" She lowered herself to the settee.

"Yeah… I'm well-aware of that fact," he snorted. "Believe me… it doesn't seem so early when you're sleeping on an air mattress."

She smiled as she settled in beside him, resting her head on his chest. "I'll trade your air mattress for my cameras. You can try to out-maneuver roving eyes while you're showering or trying to sleep… Do you have any idea how hot it gets when you sleep with your head under your covers?"

"So that's what's up with your hair," he smirked.

She half-heartedly smacked at his shoulder. "Okay, Agent Smart-ass… What is it you want? Is this a booty call?" she asked hopefully, as she snuggled into his arms—reveling in the feel of him.

"I wish it were… but unfortunately, Frank got some more information from Putnam late last night and we need to get together this morning. Frank's calling Porter, and we're gonna meet for breakfast a few miles out of town. Just wanted to give you a chance to get up and get going before Porter came looking for you."

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh… Thanks." She looked disappointed and he leaned down to capture her lips. "I'm taking you away for a few days when this is over," he growled, as he plundered her mouth. "…and I'm not lettin' you out of bed for forty-eight hours."

"Really…? You think that'll be enough?" she teased. "I have a better idea… Let's just stay home and lock the doors and turn off our phones. I don't know if I ever wanna leave home again after this."

An hour and a half later, the four of them were seated at a booth in a tiny, out-of-the-way dive, waiting for their second pot of coffee after polishing off a surprisingly good breakfast of eggs, bacon and pancakes. Frank looked no more rested than when Elliot had last seen him, but he seemed to have recovered his fighting spirit, and had kept the rhetoric lively this morning. He'd already briefed them on Putnam's latest information about the agents on Delia's payroll, and the possible forty-eight hour timeline. Now they were pouring over the Crestview blueprints Porter had managed to secure, hoping to find evidence of a hidden room or bunker.

"There's nothing here to indicate any area of the basement we haven't already checked out… And no secret rooms anywhere." Elliot exchanged looks with Frank. "Is there some way to check it out electronically, Frank?"

"I 'spect there oughta be," he speculated. "Let's see if we can get Morales over there later today."

"Wouldn't he already have detected something like that when he was there before…?" Olivia asked Frank, glancing sheepishly at Porter, knowing he was aware of their earlier suspicions that he'd planted the cameras in the Master Suite.

"Oh, you mean when he was there checking out the cameras in the bedroom?" Porter gave her a teasing grin. "I expect he probably did a quick scan of the area, but no one was thinking hidden rooms or bunkers in the cellar at that point, so it's worth checking in with him."

Frank grabbed his cell phone and quickly exited the table to make the call. After a brief conversation he made his way back, still talking into his phone. "Good! 'Spect to see you 'round ten o'clock, Morales…" He slid into the booth beside Porter.

"Sounds like good news, Frank." Olivia smiled over at him.

"Yeah." He briefly returned her smile, but his tone was somber. "He did pick up signals from all th'equipment installed by the FBI… Jus' figured the ones connected to the Suite would be off-site somewhere… Hell, that's what we were all thinkin' so he didn't pursue it. Says there're more s'phisticated devices he can use to check the grounds… ones that can tell th'difference b'tween the two. Shoulda had that done in the first place… Sorry guys."

Olivia sensed Frank was struggling this morning, and reached over to touch his arm. "No apologies needed." She hesitated, looking him in the eye. "We're all doing the best we can in a really crappy situation…" She held his eyes and her voice grew soft. "… and you've been a rock, Frank."

For a moment, the man was uncharacteristically at a loss for words, but he quickly recovered. "Goddamn, Stabler! I swear you don't take care o' this woman, I'll take her off your hands," Frank teased, as he smiled into her eyes.

"That won't be necessary, Barrett. I've got it covered," he assured him, grinning at Olivia—his own eyes conveying his appreciation.

"Hmmrp… If the 'I love Livvy' fest is over, can we get back to business, here?" Porter demanded grumpily. But when she glared over at him, he was grinning, too.

"God, I'll be so glad when this is over and we can go home." Elliot held her close while he buried his face in her hair, and nuzzled into her neck. They'd managed to steal off together to a bedroom on the third floor for a few minutes of privacy while the house was being swept for signals that might locate the source of the cameras in the Master Suite, hopefully leading them to Lamb.

"Me too, El..." Her voice betrayed her level of stress—her tension palpable. She was deliberately holding herself away from him… Not allowing her body to relax in his arms.

"Hey baby, try to relax, Liv…" He gently massaged her shoulders as he tried to get her to look at him.

She refused to meet his eyes, but she spoke in a whisper. "Elliot… Delia Wilson is ruthless and cruel—and vindictive. She has connections everywhere. And if she's set her sights on me, you can bet she knows everything about you—and your family." Elliot felt her tremble and tried to hold her closer, but she pulled out of his arms, and stepped away. When she turned to look at him, her eyes were stricken, and her face contorted with fear. "Elliot, what if she goes after the kids…?"

He quickly covered the few feet separating them and pulled her back into his arms. "I thought of that Liv: The Bureau has ordered a protective detail on Kathy and Eli, and Maureen and Turner are gonna stay with them until this is over. The twins are both gonna stay with friends, and not go to classes for the next few days. And Kathleen won't be back from her exchange program until a few days before Christmas… They're all safe, baby… They're safe."

Tears of fear and anger, mixed with tears of relief, and Olivia tried to push him away... When he wouldn't let her go she pummeled his chest in frustration, choking on the sobs she couldn't control. "Don't you think I should've known that…? Didn't you think I'd be worried, too? Why didn't you tell me Elliot?"

"Baby, I was getting ready to… You beat me to it. I took care of it just before heading over here. I didn't even think about it until after we left the diner this morning. Liv, I wouldn't keep that from you, baby. You're part of this family, Olivia; those kids adore you. And you're my partner—my life mate. And you know if I had my way I'd make you more than that, Olivia," he reminded her gently.

"I know," she whispered, finally relaxing into him, and allowing him to hold her. "I'm sorry, El… I just got so scared thinking about it." He tipped her face to his and tenderly kissed her lips. She looked up at him, the earnestness in her eyes breaking his heart, but her words melted him to his core. "I love them, Elliot." Her voice was low and still raspy with tears. "I know they're not my children… But they're yours—and I couldn't love you as much as I do, and not love them, too: They're an extension of you. And if something happens to them because of me…"

"Shhh, shh, Liv… That's not gonna happen, baby."

Once again, the weary foursome found themselves in ADIC Putnam's office. They sat around a small oval table, a carafe of coffee sitting in the center. The tempting aroma wafted from the spout as the assistant director picked it up and poured five cups. She passed them around, offering sugar and cream. Olivia felt guilty as she accepted it, knowing tea or water would be better choices… She'd found herself opting for coffee more in this past week than she had in the last several years—feeling the need for the quick brace from the caffeine. Putnam settled back in her chair as everyone sipped the rich brew, savoring a peaceful moment before diving into the business that'd brought them together.

Frank, never one to beat around the bush, cleared his throat before plowing in. "Olivia, Connie and me've been talkin' and I'm jus' gonna lay this on th'table…" He glanced at Elliot before continuing. "We think you should pull outta this op… It's too damn dangerous, and we don't have a good handle on how th'hell it's gonna go down…"

Olivia started to protest, but Frank held up his hand. "All we know for sure is you're the target, and the intention is to make this look like a country club murder." He hesitated for a moment, looking down at the table. When he raised his eyes to hers she saw a fleeting glimpse of desperation… When he spoke again his voice was soft… almost cajoling. "You know what that bastard intends to do to you, pretty lady… You saw those crime scenes, Olivia. You never signed on for this… This ain't right."

Olivia was touched deeply by his obvious concern for her, but this was her battle and there wasn't a force powerful enough to pull her away from it now. "Frank, I'm not just the target… I'm the whole reason this is happening. Because of me, Elliot and Dean are at risk, too—and god knows who else. And even if I pull out, I'm still gonna be the target. I wanna get this done… and done now. I'm not pulling out, Frank; so you and Stabler and Porter better help me figure out how we're gonna do this… because it's happening."

"Okay." Frank sent an 'I told you so' look in Putnam's direction. "I told you that's what she'd say, Connie… Th'woman's got more grit than sense." He shook his head, but risked a look in Olivia's direction, giving her a wink and a smile that warmed her heart. "Jus' had to be sure." He looked over at Elliot. "You okay with this?"

"Hell, no. I'm not okay with this." He turned to look at Olivia, fixing her with a proud smile. "But I know Olivia Benson… And short of cuffin' her and throwin' her behind bars—and I'd like to meet the man who could do it—I've got no say in this decision."

ADIC Putnam had listened to the dialogue between her agents and the SVU detective, allowing Frank to take the lead… But now it was time to take back the reins. She sat forward, her elbows on the table, and took her glasses off for a moment to rub wearily at her eyes. "Detective Benson… I applaud your determination. I don't need to add anything to what Frank said—but I'm going to anyway. May I call you Olivia?"

"Yes, please do..."

"Thank you. Please, call me Connie." Leaning toward her, she looked directly into Olivia's eyes. "Olivia. Don't minimize for a moment how dangerous this situation is…" The older woman paused, leaning back in her chair. "I was out of the country when this whole 'corruption, drug kingpin, escort service' thing came tumbling down…" she said, gesturing as she described the 'Delia Wilson' saga. "I heard about it, but until today I didn't know the ins and outs of it—or who the players were. It wasn't FBI business, and it didn't fall under my purview—so I didn't need to know." She leaned forward, intently focusing on Olivia again. "But now I do. I've got you and two of my agents who are apparently a target of this madwoman, and she's mobilized a small army to help her carry out her goal—from behind prison walls, no less."

Olivia shook her head. "I know… I'm so…"

Putnam waved her hand, effectively silencing Olivia. "I spent the better part of the afternoon familiarizing myself with the case—and Delia Wilson. Including your part in bringing her down…" She looked shrewdly at Olivia. "Impressive, Detective... But you've pissed off some mighty powerful people." ADIC Putnam leaned in closer to her, forcing her to maintain eye contact. "Now I'm gonna give you a speech I know you've made on many occasions—but you're not so likely to apply it to yourself. Whatever these corrupt and wicked people choose to do in retaliation—to you, or anyone else connected to you—will not be your fault." Putnam leaned even closer. "Do you hear me, Olivia?"

Olivia swallowed and nodded, tears briefly clouding her eyes. She lowered her head, but when she looked back up there was a grateful smile on her face. "Thank you, Connie. I'll try hard to remember that over the next few days." She spoke quietly, but there was conviction and strength in her voice.

"Good." The assistant director turned her attention to the rest of her team. "We're at war—and we need to come up with a battle plan." She focused on Frank. "What did you find out yesterday from TARU…? Anything to lead us to Lamb…?"

Frank rubbed a hand down over his face. "Jeez, Connie—inconclusive... It's likely somethin's there, but looks like it's prob'ly an underground bunker—with lotsa reinforcement. We don't got time to dig up the grounds to find it. Or get sidetracked tryin' to…"

"But it sounds like we can go with the assumption that John Lamb is on the premises…?" Putnam looked from one to the other of her team.

"Yeah… I think that's a safe bet." Porter had been quiet until now. "We figure we were infiltrated by two operatives from Delia Wilson's payroll... plus her sister. What's to say Lamb doesn't have more of his own…?"

"What're you thinkin' Porter?" Frank leaned toward him.

"I don't buy that this is some bid to retaliate against Benson and Stabler for something that happened to his nephew ten years ago. What power does Wilson have over him…? What's his motivation? We need to figure that out… It just might be a tool we can use."

Olivia sat up straighter as a light dawned in her eyes. "That's it, Dean… That's how she operates: She pulls people into her corruption until she can control them with blackmail! Is there any way to determine if Lamb used her escort services? Even in an undercover operation? Or as a means to bribe and control other agents…?"

"Best bet is to look at his expense accounts—but it'll take some time…" Putnam shook her head wearily. "And with his obvious wealth, he may have paid for it himself. Regardless, I'll put someone on it right away…" Putnam took out her cell phone and stepped away from the table.

"Good point, Liv." Elliot smiled over at her. "If that's the case, no telling how many other agents he's dragged into this—he can call them in for reinforcement. They wouldn't even need to know what he was planning… Just act as his eyes and ears. Jesus!" He slumped back in his chair, a fleeting air of discouragement in his stance as he stole a worried look at Olivia.

"We're gonna need some r'inforcement of our own." Frank turned his attention to Porter. "You an' Benson still posin' for the cameras…?" He glanced at Olivia.

Porter rested his gaze on Olivia's face, trying to gauge whether she preferred to answer this question, and darted a concerned look at Elliot. When neither responded, he looked back at Frank. "Yes. Every evening… we convincingly… make it appear we're going to bed together." He refused to shift his focus from Frank. "Obviously, Lamb knows we're staging it... But we're hoping he thinks we still believe we're being observed by the 'unsub' in the CC murders… I mean, he's got to know we refocused the cameras, so he knows that we know they're there."

ADIC Putnam came back to the table and wearily lowered herself into her chair. "They'll start immediately… but we may not get results before we need them." She addressed Olivia. "That was extremely insightful, Olivia… And Dean… thanks for taking us there. It's viable… so we're gonna go with it. We're going to assume that Lamb is on the premises and he potentially has other operatives doing his dirty work. I've just arranged to bring in our own army, and God help us… I hope it'll be enough." A worried look flitted briefly across her features before she composed her 'game' face once again. "Let's lay out our strategy."

Donald Cragen wasn't entirely comfortable with what he was about to sanction, but something in his gut told him it was the best bet they had of getting Olivia and Elliot the support they needed to come through this sting unscathed… And he didn't think he could take another minute of standing on the sidelines while two of the people he cared about most were in danger—more danger than they realized. He couldn't help but feel the burden of responsibility for Olivia being in Delia's crosshairs; so he gave his blessing when Sergeant John Munch revealed the plan he and Detective Fin Tutuola were about to launch. He watched as John talked earnestly to Nick.

"We won't think any less of you, Amaro. You might be putting your future with the NYPD on the line—maybe even your pension—so you've got to be sure. But once you commit, my friend, we do this Fin's way… No questions asked."

Nick Amaro had never seen Munch so serious—no jokes, no cracks, no conspiracy theories—the man was serious as death, and it touched something in him. "Yeah. I'm in. This is Olivia we're talking about—she's my partner."

"Okay… Rollins is in, too." The older man looked solemnly over at Cragen. "Our Captain will be covering for us."

Fin wasn't all that fond of skulking around in the woods… He'd grown up on the streets of the city where there were always lights and noise and people—no matter the hour. All this quiet wasn't natural… And it was cold enough to freeze his nuts off! Next time he'd dress warmer. He made a mental note to put night vision goggles on his list for Munch. His eyes strained to follow the movements of the man holding the cell phone to his ear—watching as he paced back and forth… He was visibly agitated. Fin crept closer, endeavoring to hear the one-sided conversation.

"Eleven o'clock? Yeah that gives me enough time to get in and subdue Benson, before Stabler shows up." I know, I know… Naked—spread-eagled on the bed. I'll sneak in earlier and have the restraints in place.

When he wasn't talking, he paced as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone.

"Don't worry… I'll keep her quiet. I want a little time with her myself… before we have an audience. What about the security system? ...and the security cameras?"

Pace… pace.

"So the whole system'll be disabled at ten-fifty-five? Jesus… I'm gonna' need to find a way to keep her out of the bedroom until I'm ready. No, it's gonna' take four minutes to rig the restraints… I've timed it. Is there anyway to disable just the system on the balcony for a few minutes…? They're usually gone until later in the evening… I could sneak in, and she'd never notice until she actually turned down the blankets on the bed."

Pace… pace.

"Okay. What's the plan for Stabler?"

Pace… pace.

"I understand he's Kundak's concern, and it's need-to-know, goddammit! But I need to know where that asshole Kundak's gonna be!"

Pace… pace.

"If the fucker comes near Benson, I swear I'll shoot his balls off…"

Pace… pace.

"No, I'm not protecting her!" I'm protecting what's rightfully mine," he snarled.

Pace… pace.

"Yeah. I hear you. What about Barrett? Who's gonna be keeping his nose out of it? He and Stabler are practically joined at the hip…"

Pace… pace.

"Where will you be? What's your plan for Porter?"

Pace… pace.

"So you're just gonna wake him up long enough to put a bullet in him after we take care of Benson and Stabler… What are you gonna do…? Drug him or knock him out?"

Pace… pace.

"It just makes sense… The more I know, the more effective I can be if something goes wrong."

Pace… pace.

"Who's gonna be out on the grounds keeping everyone else away?"

Pace…

"Yeah… yeah. I hear you… Sorry. I just sweat the details—feels like I'm more in control that way… You know—less likely to fuck it up."

Pace… pace.

"I'll be ready."

TBC

Thank you for reading! I'll do my best to have Chapter 15 up in less than a week...