Cooper had his orders, but wasn't entirely sure he could carry them out. The boss was adamant that neither detective was endangered, but equally determined that Selenia Ruiz be taken care of before she said anything.
He snuck as close to the window as he could without drawing either cop's attention, but was frustrated, as the male detective was blocking his shot.
It had occurred to Cooper that there was very little chance of accomplishing this mission, and even less chance of getting away afterward, but when he had mentioned these concerns to the boss, the message had been clear.
"Get it done, or die trying."
Presuming the latter was more likely than the former, he'd taken the time to move his car a few blocks away, throwing the registration and his ID down a storm drain before returning to Mrs. Ruiz' home. It wasn't good enough, but it would have to do.
He watched, and waited for an opening, relieved to hear the cops still questioning Selenia; she hadn't told them anything important…yet.
He panicked when Manny's widow started talking about helping to get him paroled, and the male cop pounced with his barrage of questions.
And then Selenia Ruiz earned his eternal loyalty; she stood up, and walked toward him.
He took the shot.
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As gunfire erupted around them, Alex tackled Selenia at the knees, knocking her to the ground, as Bobby drew his weapon and aimed at the now-shattered window.
The assailant had disappeared.
Alex checked Selenia for wounds as Bobby headed towards the front door. Their eyes met for an instant; then, each assured that the other was unharmed, they went back to the tasks at hand.
Alex was relieved to see that, though she was terrified, Ms. Morales had not been hit. She was assisting the woman to a seated position when she heard, from outside,
"Hold your fire!"
But it wasn't Bobby's voice.
Drawing her own weapon, she hissed, "Stay down," before cautiously heading towards the door. As she exited into the dusky light of late afternoon, she was stunned to see Bobby, holding both arms up in the air, facing a phalanx of armed agents.
DEA.
Holding her own weapon in an unthreatening position, she drew alongside her partner, seeing for the first time the face-down corpse on the lawn, just in front of the living room window.
An agent approached them carefully. "Detectives Goren and Eames?"
Together, they answered in the affirmative. The agent holstered his weapon as he drew closer, and Alex and Bobby followed suit. He pulled out his ID and extended it. "I'm special agent Jason Rice of the DEA." Gesturing towards the house with his chin, he asked, "She okay?"
Bobby, too, looked at Alex for her answer. "She's fine; didn't get hit. She's petrified, though."
Rice sighed, "She's had a lot of that, lately. I'm just sorry we couldn't move sooner, but we needed this guy," he indicated the corpse, "to do more than hang around watching before we could act."
Bobby spoke softly, "You've been watching the house?"
Rice nodded. "Yeah, we figured somebody might try and shut her up once Ruiz was killed." As he finished speaking, a stunned and now completely sober Selenia Morales exited her home, taking in the scene she encountered with a look of weary resignation.
Taking a step closer to Alex, she pointed a shaky finger at the dead body on her lawn. "D-did he try to k-kill me?"
Rice approached her gently. "He never even got off a shot, ma'am. We got him before he could pull the trigger."
Withdrawing further so that she was half-hidden behind Eames, she asked, "But that's what he was going to do, right?"
Nodding, Rice answered honestly, "Yes, ma'am."
Alex felt the woman grab her arm, as she gasped out, "My son!"
Rice spoke in what he hoped was a calming tone, "He's in protective custody right now, waiting for you to join him."
Her eyes narrowed. "For what?"
The agent, confused, asked, "I'm sorry? What do you want to know, ma'am?"
Her bravado at least somewhat restored, she said clearly and slowly, "You put my son in protective custody, you're offering me protective custody, and I want to know – for what? What do I have to do for you?"
Rice looked at the NYPD detectives for help, but as they both thought it was a valid question, they remained silent.
Realizing that Goren and Eames were waiting for his answer, Rice sighed, "Mrs. Ruiz…"
"Ms. Morales," she corrected firmly.
"Ms. Morales, while we would like to get your testimony, as a potential victim, you will receive protective custody whether or not you agree to talk to us." Gesturing towards the body, he continued, "If this guy is who we think he is, he won't be the last one they send." He looked at Goren. "You can ask Detective Goren; he worked Narcotics for a while. Am I telling the truth, Detective?"
Bobby paused. "It depends. I don't know who you think this guy is."
Alex smiled inwardly; typical Bobby, pursuing as much information as he could get his mind on.
To his credit, Rice was quick to decide to share what he knew. "We think, and our search of a storm drain about a block from here should prove, that he is Lyle Cooper, a lieutenant in the largest drug ring in the tri-state area."
"Do you know who he works for?" Eames wondered.
Rice shook his head. "Cooper's as far up the ladder as we've gotten, and we wouldn't have known who he was if one of his underlings hadn't come to us last month. We've been following him ever since, but until today, we've never seen him get his hands dirty."
"They're panicking," Bobby commented.
Rice nodded his assent. "They had a big operation underway, taking over for some of the locals, but Ruiz' murder has thrown them off their game."
Selenia, who'd been listening with wide eyes, spoke to Alex directly. "Detective Eames, do you think I need protective custody?"
Alex turned to face her. "I do. These are very dangerous people, and even if you don't know anything, it seems they think you do, which means they'll keep coming after you." She reached out to take the shaken woman's hand. "It could be a fresh start for you and your son."
Selenia considered this, then spoke to Agent Rice. "Even if I decide not to say anything?"
"Absolutely," he assured her, "we'll help you find a job, a good school for your son, and we'll keep you safe." He directed his next comment at both her and Eames. "These bastards have already killed, directly or indirectly, too many innocent people. We don't want you and your son to be their victims anymore."
Tears escaped her eyes, but it was clear that her decision was made. With a last, grateful look at Bobby and Alex, she allowed Rice to lead her back into her home to gather the belongings that meant something to her.
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Despite the presence of about a dozen DEA agents, Bobby felt the need to touch Eames, to assure himself that she was still here, safe, with him. He splayed his fingers across the small of her back and leaned down to whisper, "Okay, Eames?"
He was heartened when, though clearly upset, she reached a hand around to join his where it's settled on her. Though her eyes are clouded with grief and some residual fear, she meets his evenly, allowing him to see her emotions, trusting him.
They breathed in the moment together, but it's all too brief, as Bobby's cell phone buzzes and a man in a suit approaches to speak to Alex.
She waves Bobby off with a weary half-smile, and steps forward to deal with the man she assumes is the DEA commander.
Her theory proves correct when he introduces himself, then draws her to a quiet corner of the yard to speak privately.
Bobby's clearly in the middle of an interesting phone cal, and she's amused to watch him from a distance, an impossibly large man gesticulating wildly to the phone, as if the caller could see him. It's an endearing quality, and it reminds her of all the things she wants to tell him, so she makes a mental note before focusing her attention on the man before her. "What did you want to tell me, Agent Falk?"
He spoke softly, "Detective, we've been following Manuel Ruiz since the day he got out of prison."
Startled, her head jerks as she looks at his eyes to confirm what he said. The agent recognizes the gesture, and nods before continuing, "We are aware that you underwent a residue test this morning, but I wanted you to know that the DEA will provide any testimony you need to clear your name."
A sour anger building in her stomach, she spat out, "You saw him kill those two men?"
A nod.
"And you saw who killed him?"
"Yes," Falk sighed, "and though we have no idea who she is, we are sure she isn't you."
Barely restraining her fury, Alex lowered her voice, a sign that anyone who knew her would have recognized and run from. Falk had no such forewarning, so he took her words head on. "And not only did you stand back and watch three murders without intervening, you didn't bother to tell me or anyone a Major Case that you saw Ruiz' murder until," she checked her watch, "some 15 hours after the fact, and you're doing it on the sly! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Stepping back from her force, a grim look on his now-pale face, Falk hissed, "I guess you didn't come from Narcotics."
"No," she answered, walking away from him and towards Bobby, "I was Vice."
"Really? I don't see it."
Eames replied in her most false sweet tone, "Oh, gee, thanks, Agent Falk."
As he watched her storm away, he shouted, "You're welcome, Detective!"
"Bite me," she muttered, to the great but wisely restrained amusement of two of his subordinates.
Bobby had just finished his second call when she strode up, and one glance at her face told him her conversation with the besuited DEA commander had not been pleasant. But he had news to tell her, and he had no intention of doing it in front of a crowd, so, making an executive decision, he took her by the arm and steered her towards their car.
Though she walked in the direction he was aiming for, she peppered him with questions; "Where are we going? What about Selenia? Who was on the phone? What were you so excited about?"
He walked her over to the driver's side of the car, and, turning to use his body to block anyone's view, leaned down to plant a brief kiss on her lips. "You only need one answer for now, and I promise you'll get the rest later. We are going to dinner."
"But what about…"
"Eames! We. Are. Going. To. Dinner. Now please, get in the car and drive."
He walked around to the passenger door and got in quickly, before it could occur to her to drive off without him. The wicked smile on her face told him he'd been just in time. He told her where they were headed, and buckled up, sure she had a plan to make him pay for his uncharacteristic bossiness.
As she pulled away from the busy scene of the Ruiz residence, she said, never taking her eyes off the road, "If I'd known sleeping with you would make you willing to leave work early, I'd have done it years ago."
His laughter lasted for quite a few blocks.
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Not long after the NYPD detectives had left, one of Falk's agents called him over to the body.
"We've got something very interesting in this guy's pocket."
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A/N – I don't own nothin' and ain't nobody payin' me. Okay? Thanks for continuing to read and review.