Chapter 19: The Guardians
Author's note: I think I gave enough detail in this chapter to explain the crossover between Law & Order: SVU and my G.I. Joe AU. If you haven't by now, or if the brief explanation given here intrigues you at all, most of the details about how Alex Cabot and the SVU first got tangled up with a government black-ops project is explained in G. : Special Missions—and it's a roller-coaster ride. If Tom-Clancy-type global government black ops novels aren't your thing, feel free to give it a pass and just enjoy this story. Thanks for the mountain of reviews-I totally did not expect such an outpouring of support for the world I see behind my eyes, my 'substitute reality' to the one presented by the current POI storyline.
And for the reader (you know who you are) who figured out the origins of my pen name—Per Anne Bishop's Jeweled ranking system, I see John as a Red-Jeweled Warlord Prince, and Joss as a Gray-Jeweled Queen. Sam's a Sapphire-Jeweled Black Widow and Healer, and Zoe's a Tiger-Eye witch. Harold is a Green-Jeweled Warlord. Jessica would have been a Sapphire-Jeweled black widow.
It was called, quite simply, 'Ettienne's'.
A little Cajun restaurant and bar, small and intimate, at 2787 Broadway, only a couple blocks away from the 16th precinct at 3280 Broadway, shared by Manhattan North Homicide and the Manhattan Special Victims Unit. Finch thought it rather appropriate, given the close connection the proprietors of Ettienne's shared with the SVU Captain.
He'd done some research into The Guardians before asking Shaw to arrange an introduction. Ex-military, all of them; and what he could find on the Guardians' personnel dead-ended into the blackness of military confidentiality. He hadn't had to dig into the darkness beyond that wall, however; there was plenty about them in regular public databases.
Manhattan SVU's ADA (their prosecutor) Alexandra Cabot had taken a sabbatical to go and volunteer her skills with the International Criminal Court. While working for them, she'd been captured and nearly killed on the orders of a Colombian cartel head named Cesar Velez. Dashiell Faireborn, currently the Strategic Lead at The Guardians, had been a Warrant Officer then and had spearheaded the search and rescue of Alexandra Cabot, then his black ops unit had taken Cabot under their wing and kept her safe as she recovered. But the head of that unit, then-Major General Clayton Abernathy, had contacted Olivia Benson, then a detective, at Manhattan SVU, to let her know that their ADA was still alive—and when Velez kidnapped Olivia Benson in an attempt to flush Alexandra Cabot out of hiding, somehow Major General Abernathy had been personally involved in rescuing Benson. Cabot, along with a Marine Gunnery Sergeant named Ettienne Lafitte (who also happened to be a part of that military black ops unit—apparently it crossed military disciplines) had gone to Colombia and killed Cesar Velez. There had been quite a lot of media attention at the time it happened, and it took Finch a little time to sort out facts from rumors, and he still wasn't sure he had the complete picture.
Ettienne LaFitte had mustered out of the Marines and opened 'Ettienne's' as part owner. Alexandra Cabot, the restaurant's other owner, had taken a position as an associate professor at NYU law after retiring from the DA's office; apparently the couple maintained close ties to Olivia Benson, who had, in the years since that deplorable incident with the Colombian druglord, worked her way steadily up the ranks from Detective to her current position as Captain of the Manhattan Special Victims Unit. Olivia herself was a longtime partner—they'd never married—of Clayton Abernathy, who had retired from the Army and now lived in a house on Long Island with Benson, and they raised a son together—August Abernathy.
But rumors on the street were that the Guardians were themselves guardian angels; they did work for pay, that was true, but they picked and chose their assignments. They never got involved in anything illegal or unsavory, never hired out to criminal or underground elements; their choice in assignments was impeccable, and Finch more than half-suspected that Dashiell Faireborn's wife, Chief Warrant Officer Allison Hart-Burnett (currently training recruits at the Army's West Point Military Academy in Western New York) used her connections and resources to do a thorough check on any prospective 'clients' before they signed any contracts. And rumors on the street were that if you wanted to get in touch with the Guardians, you left a message at Ettienne's.
Finch had his doubts about them, about the wisdom of hiring a group of mercenaries to find John and Joss in the middle of the New York wilderness and bring them home, but Shaw had seemed certain that they could help; and Finch was just desperate enough by now to try anything. It had been more than twenty-for hours now since they'd heard from John, they had no idea if he'd found Joss yet, and the Machine hadn't been able to track either of them. He didn't think this was going to work; they weren't going to find out anything about him or John, and so there would be no way that they could verify he wasn't a 'bad guy'.
All he had, as he walked into 'Ettienne's' at midnight beside Sam Shaw, was desperation, hope, and a briefcase full of cash.
Shaw led him straight through the restaurant and to a booth in the back. Quiet, private, in a shadowed corner, it looked exactly like a place you'd meet a couple of mercenaries to hire them, and his guess was confirmed when he saw two men sitting there. One with hair that had originally been blond, now edging more to silver—Clayton Abernathy. The other man, Dashiell Faireborn, had dark brown hair, not a single strand of gray. Both men sat toward the back of the booth where they could keep an eye on the door and the rest of the room, and there was a certain wary, cautious look in their eyes that Harold had become familiar with—because it was the same look he saw in John's eyes when entering a new place, new situations. And half-hidden under matching ubiquitous black leather jackets was a silvery glint of dog tags.
Sam slid into the booth first, appearing perfectly at ease; Harold slid in next, uneasy and wary. For a long moment there was silence as the four people regarded each other.
Shaw, with her usual predictable bluntness, broke the silence first. "So have you given any thought to my request for your services?"
"I have to admit, I was a little surprised," Abernathy drawled, the softness of his tone contrasting sharply with the piercing intensity of his blue eyes. "You and I haven't always…had the same goals."
"But we've never been enemies either," Shaw said, leaning forward, elbows on the table and keeping her hands visible. "And I'm not asking on my behalf."
"Yes, we got that," Faireborn said, shifting his big frame in the seat. "Don't think we haven't seen the news headlines about the suspected serial killer who kidnapped a cop and shot her son." Finch shot the big man a glance, but his expression was unreadable. "We also have heard about the 'Man-In-The-Suit' chatter on police radio frequencies—and the rumors that the cop who was shot had at least a passing acquaintance with the Man-in-the-Suit." He leaned forward, drilling Harold Finch with his eyes. "You'd be the best one to tell us how that connects, aren't you."
Finch couldn't think of a single thing to say.
"We value honesty." Abernathy leaned forward, drawing Finch's gaze. "Above everything else, we need our clients to be honest with us, because hiding anything could get our people killed. Since they volunteer for this gig, we don't put them in a situation where they don't know everything that's going on." A shadow in the blue eyes. "So I'm giving you exactly one chance to be honest with me about what we're getting into here. I've done my homework on the circumstances, but the decision I make about this assignment is going to rest on what comes out of your mouth next. Think about that, very hard, before you speak."
"Detective Carter is a very dear friend of ours. She's helped us with a number of...things. Whatever you may have heard about her or her motivations isn't true—there's an organization of dirty cops just under the blue surface of the New York City police, known as HR." Neither man looked surprised. "Detective Carter—Jocelyn Carter, Joss to us—came too close to exposing them. They killed her boyfriend and set her up for a murder, got her demoted and, broken back down to a beat cop. It hasn't been easy for her. But we are her friends—myself, and the man you call the 'Man-in-the-suit'. His name is—"
"I don't need his name," Abernathy interrupted. "His reputation precedes him. We've seen what he is and what he's capable of. As you all obviously want to remain nameless, I'm going to respect that—I certainly don't want to find myself on the wrong end of his fists. Just tell me how you ended up here?"
"Carter arrested a suspect she believed was the Crucifixion Killer, an ex-Army Ranger from Fort Benning named Tony Walker. The Detective in charge of the case made her release him. She believed he was the serial killer, and I surmise that Walker wanted to get rid of the only person who knew what he did and had the ability to take him down for it. He broke into her house yesterday evening and kidnapped her, shooting her son in the process."
He took a deep breath, tried to keep the fear and desperation out of his voice. "Every minute that passes increases the chance that something bad happens to Joss. It's been twenty-four hours with no word from either of them. I don't know if she's…dead…by now, or if John found her in time. I don't know if they're lost up in the Catskills.
"I don't know what Walker is capable of; the only thing I could find in his military record was his conviction after a court-martial for rape, assault and battery of a fellow soldier. I couldn't find any details. But I know what he did to the two women he killed, and that tells me what he's capable of doing to Detective Carter. And John cares about her deeply, even though he hasn't admitted that to himself, and if something happens to her I can't predict what that will do to him. So if you're not going to take the assignment, please just tell me so I can try to find someone else."
"Clayton, you're scaring him," came a new voice, female, soft; he looked up and saw a woman standing there—two women; both tall, taller than Joss; one with brown waves, the other with a long straight blond ponytail. "Take it easy, we are going to help you. You don't even have to pay us."
"Olivia," the blond man protested, looking up at the brown-haired woman—Captain Olivia Benson—with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. It was, Finch noted absently, the same look John gave Joss in some of their more playful, quieter moments.
"He's terrified that we won't," said the blond woman standing next to Olivia. Finch recognized her from the photos in his research as former SVU ADA Alexandra Cabot. "He doesn't know that Fin's been worried about Joss since she disappeared and he's already asked you if the Guardians can go look for Walker upstate."
"Why do we even get involved?" Faireborn threw up his hands as he looked at Abernathy. "Why don't we just let the girls handle negotiations?"
"Because we like watching you guys try to be mysterious and intimidating," Olivia said as she slipped into the booth, followed by Alex Cabot. "It's cute."
"I'm not 'cute'." Abernathy glared at Benson.
"Sure you are." Benson said cheerfully, then turned her attention to Shaw and a bewildered Finch. "All right. Since you've taken the step and given us your trust, we'll return that trust. One of my Detectives, Fin Tutuola, has met Joss, a few times, over the years. When he heard that Detective Carter's—yes, Fin knew about her demotion, said it was bullcrap and refuses to call her 'Officer', just like you did. That's how I know you really are her friend—anyway, when Detective Carter's son was shot and she was kidnapped, he asked if The Guardians could look into the matter—and The Guardians agreed once we heard who the suspect was." A hard edge crept into her voice. "Tony Walker."
"His court-martial file is classified by the military, so you wouldn't have been able to find out anything. I can tell you, however, that the soldier Walker assaulted and brutally raped was one of my soldiers. Cameron Arlington. I was the one who preferred the court-martial charges against Walker." There was barely-disguised rage in Abernathy's voice.
Finch just barely stifled a gasp. So the Guardians knew, very well, what Walker was capable of. The realization must have showed on his face, because Abernathy and Faireborn both nodded grimly to him.
"And I was glad he got Leavenworth." Alex Cabot. "I walked in in the middle of that assault. And I was sitting as co-Trial Counsel during Walker's court-martial. I can't get into details because it's still classified, but trust me, we know what he's capable of. We've seen and witnessed it first-hand." There was ice in her blue eyes, and suddenly Finch could easily imagine this determined woman gunning down a druglord.
"So you'll help us?"
"Yes," from Abernathy, Faireborn, Benson and Cabot.
"Here." He put the briefcase he was carrying on the table—only to have it, very firmly, shoved back by Benson.
"Liv…" Abernathy. "That's enough to start Auggie's college fund!"
"Ignore him," Olivia said cheerfully as she nudged the briefcase a little further back over the table to Finch. "The Guardians don't do manhunts, as a rule, but there have been a few exceptions. And we don't take payments for manhunts. Clayton's just kidding."
Abernathy glared at Olivia…then broke into a reluctant smile. "We don't do manhunts because we never know if the person we're hunting is definitely guilty. There are always circumstances, and it's hard to know if you're ever getting the full story. Only once before have we done a manhunt and that was because the biological child of one of my soldiers was kidnapped by his father after he killed the boy's mother. It's complicated," he said dismissively at Finch's startled look. "I don't need to get into it here. If you want details, ask Sam Shaw." Finch shot her a startled glance, but she gave him a tiny, negative headshake. Not here. Later. "Let's just say at that time we knew beyond doubt that he was guilty and what we did was justice.
"And that's what we're doing now. We know, beyond any doubt, that Walker is guilty. Justice has tried to take care of the problem—he did time in Leavenworth—but he hasn't learned his lesson and now we're going to make sure Justice's scales tip even." Faireborn said quietly. "We've heard plenty about the Man-In-The-Suit—Liv's a cop, after all—and while I can't say I agree with some of his methods, I can't argue with the results. There are a lot of innocent people walking around today who might not otherwise if it hadn't been for the man you call John. Now, we're known for our transparency—our clients know that when they sign the contract, they commit to being open to questions about us and our methods from other potential clients down the road. That's why we never take on an underground client. And that's why we aren't taking payment, or signing a contract, with you—we kind of get the feeling you don't want to be available for that kind of scrutiny." A hint of a smile. "But the job will still get done."
"And on that note, we're heading out. I don't think either of us needs to hear the rest of this," Alex spoke as she and Olivia slid out of the booth. "We'll let you four work out the details."
Olivia started to walk away, then took a quick step back, touched Finch's sleeve quickly. "We'll get Detective Carter back. And when we do, have her give me a call. I've been aware that there was something going on under this thin blue surface, and I'd heard it was called HR, but it sounds like she's closer to it than I am. Maybe I can help. My unit, and my detectives, are clean." And she slipped a card into Finch's hand.
He slipped it into his coat pocket, then looked up, only to see Abernathy watching him. No longer hard or inscrutable, those blue eyes were amused but sympathetic. "You look like you've just fallen down a rabbit 're not what you expected?"
"Definitely not what I expected." Finch said fervently.
"Good. Let's keep you off balance." He waved a hand. "Ettienne!"
A big man wearing a large white apron liberally splattered with food remnants came up to their table. "Good evening."
"Ettienne, we're going to go hunt down Walker. So meet our new client."
The big man's Cajun accent grew thicker. "Alex said you were t'inking 'bout it. You going to hunt down de bastard, den?"
"Yep."
"You not going to take payment, right?"
Abernathy sighed. "No, we're not. Let's call this a 'public service'."
"Should have killed de bastard after he was convicted of what he did to Cam. Dat would have been a public service." He looked thoughtful. "You going to call Charlie and Cam?"
"Honestly, at this point, I don't know. They're my best navigator and tracker, and Cam would certainly be familiar with the landscape—I imagine her reservation has similar terrain—but do we want to let her near Walker again? She could kill him in a fit of pique. There's temper under her quiet exterior."
"Why not?" The Cajun accent disappeared in Ettienne's intensity as he leaned over the table. "Clayton, there's not a single jury in the world would convict anyone of murder if he dies during this manhunt. We've all seen what he did to this cop and her son, and Cam would know, better than anyone, what he's capable of. At least give her a chance to say no." He grinned. "Now, since you're all here, anybody want anything to eat?"
"No, I couldn't. I really have to be going…" now that the deal had been struck, Harold needed to get back to the Library. Maybe John had called while he was here.
"All right, then." Clayton nodded. "We'll be onsite in three hours. My navigator and tracker, Cam Arlington and Charlie Ironknife, are coming in from the Cattaraugus Reservation in Western New York, they'll get there about the same time we do. If your Detective Carter is anything like Olivia and Alex, she'll hold out too. Your man John will hold out too—I've seen footage of the Man-in-the-Suit on the news, and if he wasn't already on his own personal crusade—with you—I would have asked him to join our personnel roster." He patted Harold's shoulder. "We will get them back for you. I promise you that."
Harold wished he could be so sure.