Holly's in trouble.
We'd better save her, huh? Yeah. Look, don't worry. Holly is just fine. In fact, let's start there.
The doors opened. ETF came out. An officer was in handcuffs with a black eye. And Holly Stewart was pissed off.
Gail had never seen anything more glorious in her life.
Across the road, their eyes met and Holly relaxed, visibly, and then looked away. Someone nudged Holly and gestured for her to go over to Gail.
"Hey," said Holly, almost sheepishly, as she walked up. "Hey," replied Gail, fighting back tears and smiles.
"So. Yeah. That was interesting." Holly glanced back at the ETF agents. "Is it always that chaotic?"
"More or less." Gail reached up and cupped Holly's cheek with one hand, looking into the beautiful brown eyes.
She didn't ask if Holly was okay. God knew Gail knew that answer. She didn't ask what Holly needed either. She knew it. As soon as Holly actually looked at Gail, the wall built of anger and frustration crumbled.
Gail exhaled a deep sigh as Holly stepped into her chest, arms around her, head pressed into Gail's shoulder so hard it hurt. And Gail didn't say a damn thing. She just held her wife close, letting Holly get out the feels that weren't tears, not yet, and the anguish and the fear and the terror.
All Holly needed right then was for Gail to be there. So she held Holly close and said nothing.
Over Holly's shoulder, Gail spotted a familiar figure pulling off her helmet. Vivian's hair tumbled down and the girl shook her head. Someone near her flinched and whinged about sweat. Someone else shoved her shoulder. And Vivian smiled in her quiet way.
Then she looked over at Gail and made the sign for dove.
Gail closed her eyes slowly, carefully, nodded, and then opened them again. Her daughter nodded in understanding. There was no way Holly was okay, but she would be.
They all would be.
Several hours earlier ...
Some days were absolutely hell.
"I should have pulled you off the line," muttered Sabrina, as they rode the few blocks to the forensics building.
"We don't have enough officers for that," pointed out Vivian. "Besides, I know everyone."
"Yeah but your mom works there."
They both looked up, as if they could see the building through the van sides. "And she's either already out or sheltering in place. Come on, it's probably a false alarm. Maybe Gerald dropped his nightstick on a transformer."
The newly minted Sgt. Saun grimaced a smile. "When did you become an optimist?"
"About ten seconds after you said the nerd HQ was on lockdown and no one knew why."
Truth be told, yes she was worried. More worried because Gail hadn't answered her phone. And ultimately she was worried because dispatch had told them Dr. Stewart herself had reported the issue, via a land line, and had not been heard from since.
Really Vivian hoped someone was sitting on Gail, who was no doubt freaking the hell out. Hopefully Chloe, who was good at that sort of thing. Maybe Traci.
But she herself was calm.
This was the job. It was the life and the job she'd always wanted. Even if it wasn't the configuration she'd dreamed up as a child. Because, yes, Vivian had dreamed of being a detective. For about five minutes. She'd had the fantasy of solving crimes with her mothers. And then. Then she'd thought of Oliver and Andy and saw the merit in the work they did. The uniform they wore.
When Gail first put on the uniform, when the power was out and the city rioted, Vivian had finally seen the strength in that uniform. Gail Peck, born and raised to be a police officer, radiated competence and calmness. So did people like Noelle and Frank. They were officers who put their lives on the line. Who cared.
That was the kind of person Vivian wanted to be.
She knew she cared. She knew she had empathy. She knew it was okay when she didn't have perhaps as much empathy as Oliver or Noelle. She knew it was okay to be snarky like Gail or more intelligent like Holly or awkward like ... well ... herself. What mattered at the end was she was trying to do the right things for everyone. That she was helping.
So knowing that, knowing that and being comfortable and confident in her goonishly awkward way, helped her. She could be calm because she knew what she was about. Vivian knew what she was doing, what she was going to be, and what it all meant just then.
Beyond herself, she had faith in her crew. She believed in her fellow officers, that they knew their jobs and could achieve miracles. Vivian truly believed her mother was going to be just fine.
The van radio crackled to life. The calm voice of Sue Tran spoke. "Okay, folks. Saun is in charge of Red Squad. Blue Squad, you're with Weston. Burr, you're babysitting on Red."
Mel looked across the aisle at Vivian and flashed her a thumbs up. As much as Vivian hated it being called babysitting, her job was to be head in the clouds with tech. "Copy that, Boss," said Mel, loud enough to be heard.
"The whole building has minimal power. Kotone, Peck, if you can hack in any which way, do it. But we're probably flying blind. I want you on comms only. Roll out."
The van stopped. It was a damn short ride. Usually Vivian walked from Fifteen to the forensics building. Everyone did. Taking the van was sensible as opposed to lugging gear. Sabrina led her team out of the van, ordering them and getting Vivian into the systems (as much as possible) ahead of time.
She was nervous as hell.
"Hey, Sarge?" Vivian settled her visor into place. "We're gonna be okay."
Sabrina looked a bit green. "Why does this have to be my first run as sergeant?"
Vivian smiled. "We really don't do any low pressure situations, Sabrina."
Her friend and sergeant nodded. "I know, I know." Sabrina took a deep breath. "Are you just faking this because it's your mom?"
"Absolutely not," promised Vivian. "If we don't get my mom out and safe, you're first on my shit list." She paused. "Gail's too."
That seemed to break the tension. They all laughed at the mental image and got their gear ready. Vivian and Kotone (from the Blue Squad) tied their Heads Up Displays in with the building security system. There wasn't much to be connected to this time. While the building had emergency power, the cameras weren't working except in secure areas.
"Red Squad, take the top," ordered Sue. "North stairwell."
Fuck. Vivian sighed and began the trek up to the top, in the middle of her squad. With the lights out, it was incredibly disturbing. Once, Vivian had opined that it was murder central. She'd been nine.
"This place is super creepy," said Mel. "I wonder if it's always like this with the power out."
"I wasn't allowed in the stairwells last time. And it was the old building." And to be honest, Vivian had mostly been excited about the air conditioning. "Could be worse though," she mused as they passed the fourth floor. "I think the original design for this building was twenty stories."
"Ew. How many dead bodies do they even have?"
Back in 2010 or so, Forensics moved to a building by Humber River hospital. It was a half hour drive from the police HQ (which itself was only minutes away from Fifteen). Barely a decade later, they'd moved to the older Humber River location because, as Holly put it, she didn't enjoy spending all that time looking at the continent's first digital hospital.
Vivian wasn't sure why that was an insult. Still. The brunt of the lab had moved back to the city for convenience. Probably that was more due to Holly's unique position as head of Toronto and Ontario Forensics for so long. Ontario had already begun to move back to the old building, which was nearer where Rodney taught.
That left them in a, thankfully, under ten story building. It wasn't terribly tall or hard to navigate but it was clinical and boring. The lab within was state of the art, mind, but still.
Ten stories was quick work, and they were on the far side away from Holly's office. Pity. It was probably for the best, seeing as they knew nothing. This way, Vivian could freely concentrate on the issue at hand.
First. What had happened to the power? Second. How to fix it? Third. Who the hell was doing this?
That last one was really someone else's bailiwick.
"Signals are still dead," she told her Squad. "Even with emergency power, I should be seeing something. A ready to boot signal."
At the front of the squad, Weston jiggled the door. "Well we're locked." Stuck in a stairwell.
"Is the keypad light on?" Vivian reached for her toolkit.
"Negative. Wanna show off your skills, kid?"
She flipped Weston off as she joined him on the top step. "Suck it, old man." Using a flat head screwdriver, Vivian popped the cover off the keypad. The emergency lights were on, which meant power to the keypads had to be flowing. The catch was that, in a real emergency, the only proper exit was downstairs, not upstairs. Once a person made it to the stairs, they were expected to head out.
Naturally that meant the doors to other floors were disabled. All Vivian had to do was trigger the lock to the override, use the code, and they'd be in.
It took her just over ninety seconds.
"You're slipping," teased Weston, and he led the squad in.
Sgt. Sabrina, at the end of the line, gave Vivian a smirk. "Who's supposed to be on the top floor today, Peck?"
Vivian rolled her eyes and pulled up the card manifest. She'd already set it up to show her who had checked in and not out yet. "Dr. Stewart, Ruth Newburg, Dr. Jackson, Henry Boone, two visitors over twenty-one, one under. Both signed in by Boone."
"Who's Boone?" Mel frowned as she took her protective stance by Vivian.
"Modern religions expert. Has a PhD but doesn't use it in his titles. Said it confused people when he was here." Vivian remembered Holly's amused explanation of that. "He's on a month pass for the murders at the church."
Someone laughed. "Oh right. The Mass Murders." Everyone heard the capital M. That had to be Harris. He was such a dick some times.
He was right, though. The murders had taken place during a modern catholic mass, which apparently meant a priest could wear jeans under his dress. Robe. Whatever.
Vivian ignored him. "Names of the visitors, Xavier Kaplan. Jonathon Rodier. James Boone." She paused. "At a guess, the kid is his."
"Those other two sound hella frenchy," muttered Mel.
"Québécois as anything," agreed Sabrina. "The Doc's office is on the other side. Conference rooms in the middle. Guest labs are all on the middle floor. If Boone and company are still here, they'd be hunkered down in the spare offices."
"Probably Dr. Frang's old office," opined Vivian. "Dr. Chundray took the one with the better view."
"Rodney didn't want a better view?"
Vivian shrugged. She'd never asked that. Instead she pulled up the map she had. "It's down the West. Computer hook up is East."
"Right. You and Mel and take the East. Harris, take Donofrio and Weston and go West. The rest of you with me. We'll cross to meet Blue in the centre and loop through and down."
Mel and Vivian shared a look as they started down their assigned path. "You miss having Sabrina on your six."
"A little, but not much." Vivian tried to access the cameras again and was denied. Damn. "I'm supposed to be flexible about partners with this gig."
"True. It's harder for us, getting used to how you have to tune out to, ah, tune in." Vivian smiled. "I'm getting better at that."
And her partner grinned. "You are. You are." Then Mel added. "You get how I'm trying to get you used to my patter, right?"
"Right," agreed Vivian. "I'm pretty used to your voice, though. Just trying to get my brain to remember that my order comes from you and not Sabrina."
That was the hard thing. She'd gotten used to the way Sabrina would gently cut in to any work she was doing, just interject and then Vivian would know that she had to hustle, or not. So while Vivian didn't miss Sabrina, she did really miss the lazy ease of working with her.
The rooms on the way were empty. Good. "Peck. We've got the junction box." Vivian popped it open and stared. What the ...
As her silence hung in the air, Mel stepped up to look. "Oh. That was ..."
"Manually fried," said Vivian, grimly. She used her helmet cam to record the entire thing. "Sarge, the junction is trashed. Someone made sure we wouldn't be able to hook up. I bet it's like this on every floor."
Someone on the line swore. Weston told them to shut it. And Sabrina was calm as a ... well. Calm as Sue. "Okay, what're your alternates?"
Vivian closed her eyes for a moment and then pulled up the offline maps. "Junctions on every floor. I could hit 'em up on the way down. But we weren't able to tap in from the first floor."
"No, lets not waste you on that. Harris— no. Donofrio. Check all the floors, convene with Blue. Peck, send him the location of the junction boxes."
That was simple work. She quickly marked the places on the map and shared it with her Squad. "Done. There's also the POTS on the other side of this floor."
There was a pause. Then Weston swore. "What the hell is a POTS line and why is it here?"
"Plain Old Telephone Line. And because Pecks aren't stupid," drawled Vivian. The POTS was, for some reason, not on her map. She knew it was there, and where it was exactly, because of her mother being pathologically incapable of trusting cell towers.
Well. God bless Gail's paranoia. They came with blood and scars, but they served folks well. Vivian even had a POTS line at her apartment. That had been fun to set up.
"How do you even use a phone line to connect to the Internet?"
Their radio crackled. "Fuck off, you're all making me feel old," said Sue. "Peck, can you use it to break in?"
"Maybe as a dial in backdoor, ma'am. I'm hoping it's got some hardwire access. Otherwise we're waiting on whomever you sent to the basement."
"The machines down there are all powered off. Boot cycle apparently has to be done in order?" Sue sounded annoyed. "And it's not connecting to the rest of the network so it won't finish."
Vivian nodded. "SOP," she replied. Standard operating procedure.
All those interconnected systems sounded like a great idea until one went down. It caused a cascade chain reaction. In this case, the lab servers couldn't see outside the lab, they were isolated. Which meant authentication protocols didn't work, and no one could log in. Worse, without being able to connect to the auth proxy on boot, it would remain in lock down mode.
The theory, which wasn't bad necessarily, was that the absence of the network meant a hack. Someone had stolen hardware. It had a failsafe, to check that the ip was the right location, and the hash file on the passthrough servers matched up, and blah blah blah. The reality was, any time the power had gone out in the lab, the computers were down for a day. Holly hated it.
It was probably saving their asses right now, though. Vivian could only imagine the mess if people got into the databases. Yeeeeck.
Sue had heard enough to make her decisions, and she redirected the teams. Mel and Vivian went to the POTS location and Vivian quickly connected through the Ethernet. It wasn't a great connection, but using it as a piggyback, she got into the cameras. Those that were hardwired. It was only a 40% coverage, which was horrifying when she thought about it.
As she installed a wireless router, to be able to share the data with the team properly, Mel went to check on a couple cameras on their floor that should have been working.
Thus far, no one who wasn't supposed to be in the building was in the building. The basement team was collecting camera footage to see who'd rebooted the servers. Red Team had done the evacs, though Vivian was sure Holly was still missing, and they were getting the cameras online.
It was weird.
Mel pinged her on their private line
"Peck, how close are you to Harris?"
She paused and looked at the map on her system. Harris should be at Holly's office, literally around the corner. "Steps away. What's up?"
"He should have passed by this camera, and it's been ripped out of the wall. Something happened."
Vivian nodded and checked her HUD. The connection was complete. "Copy that, Mel." With the building electronics out, it was a strange view. Incomplete. Like there were spots of the world that didn't quite exist. It was as if the world hadn't fully rendered in her video game.
The thought amused her as she trotted down the hall.
Compartmentalization of her life was not the best coping mechanism, Vivian knew that. She still had a tendency to push people away until she'd processed, even Jamie. At the same time, Vivian was sure that her whole life was going to be a series of filing
situations into little boxes for her own understanding. Ironically, she hated to be codified like that.
Thinking of that, she nearly when she saw a man who wasn't Harris standing in the doorway to Holly's office.
What the hell?
Harris was tall, her height, and broad. This person was slimmer, only 5'10", and built solid but small. Donofrio.
Vivian blinked. Eric? He was supposed to be checking the junctions on every floor. By now, he should be at the ground. It made her hesitate.
Eric's words did not.
He lifted his gun and Vivian heard him say he was sorry. Orders.
Her body worked on autopilot. Vivian ran the command to kill his comm, sending it only to the van. He'd never notice. She was trained to do that if someone was hurt, but also if a comm unit was compromised. Then she turned her own comm direct to Mel. Finally she spoke. "Eric," she said as she brought her tactical pistol up and took aim. "Eric. Put your gun down."
He stiffened. "Peck. You should stay outta this."
"You know I can't, Eric." It was one of Gail's tricks, to repeat the person's name over and over, to humanize them. She took careful aim at the weak point in his armor — the back of his leg. "Put your gun down, Eric. Don't do this."
Her ear piece crackled. "Peck, hold on. I'm coming."
In front of her, Eric shook his head. "Peck, this isn't your business." "How do you figure, Eric?"
"This is Just business, not yours."
Okay. He was working for Galbraith. Vivian took a breath. "You think I don't know about Gally, Eric?" She let disdain drip from her voice. "Come on, man. I'm a damn Peck. But this shit, Eric, hitting family? That's not how we do things."
"Times change. We have to adapt." He paused. "You know that."
Oh, that was interesting. He'd heard her new legend. "I do know, Eric. But this, this won't end well for you. Okay?"
"You don't understand at all. Legacies don't."
"I'm adopted, Eric. I had to earn every step. You think they don't run me too?"
He paused. She could see the entire pause in his whole body. Oh god, please let this be working. Vivian could only bullshit for so long.
"It's not the same," said Eric darkly. "They gave me an order."
Vivian searched her brain for something to say. Anything, please, just don't be banal. "What if I gave you a different one?"
He froze, as if contemplating.
Come on, little fishy, Vivian pleaded. Bite the bait.
But she was saved by a voice in her ear, not the one in her head. "Peck. We're here." Mel was calm. And she'd brought reinforcements. Thank god. "Give him three, then we fire. You aim low."
"Okay," said Vivian aloud. Not to Eric, but he probably wouldn't be able to tell. "Eric, I need you to put the gun down and raise your hands."
Eric still didn't turn. His hands didn't move.
"Eric," she said gently. "You know I'll do this. I'm going to count to three, and then you need to have the gun on the ground and your hands on your head." She prayed he wouldn't be able to tell she was bluffing. Oh sure, Vivian had a way clearer shot than when she'd taken out Keith, but that was Gail.
This was absolutely not Holly's life. It was a hell of a lot more unnerving to do this sort of thing in front of Holly. Gail would stay perfectly still and not get in the way. Gail knew how to handle the situation. Holly wouldn't, she couldn't know the drill. So Vivian had to not take the shot. She couldn't risk her mother's life. She had to trust her crew.
"I'm sorry, Peck," said Eric.
So was she. "Three. Two. One."
Guns fired.
Holly almost screamed when the gunshots rang out.
She did end up hugging Ruth in a state of panic for both of them.
Only once before had Holly had anyone shot in front of her, and it was not a particularly awesome memory, as those went.
Here and now, gunshots echoed, a very familiar buzz rang out, and Eric went down. But he wasn't dead. He was screaming in pain and four ETF agents stood, their guns raised, all aimed at Eric. No. Two had guns.
The two women had guns. The two men had tasers. The other woman, shorter than Vivian, was announcing to her radio that the subject was down, and it was confirmed to be Eric Donofrio. To a one they were grim faced and tense. And they all stared at Eric.
The tallest woman, Holly's daughter, stepped to one side and holstered her gun. She pushed her visor up and looked at Holly, steady and calm as a rock. They shared a look of relief. Her daughter spoke first. "Doc, Ruth. You two okay?"
Doc. Not Mom. Doc. Vivian was absolutely in that zone. "I may need a change of pants," said Holly, reflexively.
Vivian smirked. "Copy. Inspector, our hostages are fine. Someone go tell the DI." That probably meant Gail.
The shorter woman was cuffing Eric. "Quit whinging, you baby. You've been tased before. Harris, safe his weapon. Hey! Peck, is this idiot's radio off?"
"Yes, ma'am. Shut it down before I looped you in."
"Clever girl."
"I'm not a fucking t-rex, Mel."
One of the male officers, his name tag said Harris, laughed. "Wasn't that a comment to the velociraptors?"
The joking should have been annoying, but instead it was helping calm and ground Holly. She was finally able to get a good look at Eric, who was being hauled up onto his feet. His legs were twitching a little, but having only been tased, he was perfectly fine. The gunshots were... for effect? Holly wasn't sure.
Huh. So that was what it looked like when professionals did their job. It was clean, simple, and remarkably safe.
How unlike Gail in a similar crisis, realized Holly. Her wife skewed towards authoritarian when it came to an emergency. There was no time to discuss, Gail just barked an order and expected it to be followed without question. And while Gail was capable of talking down an armed gunman, she preferred to delegate such responsibilities to minions like Chloe, who were better.
And then, here, Vivian had been an entirely different person. She was still different. She was calm, in control and, unlike Gail, seemed to not suffer the shakes.
"Hey, Peck?" That was the older man. Harris?
"S'up?"
"What was this idiot talking about?"
Vivian paused and then sighed. "It's a lot of bullshit, Harris." "But you offered an deal."
That was right. Holly dimly remembered that part of the talk. She'd been a bit more concerned with the gun.
"I did," said Vivian.
Everyone was looking at the girl. Oh.
Holly blinked. Just like that, she saw her daughter as the cop a Peck should be. Not Gail, though. Elaine. Vivian was just like her grandmother, thank god without the scheming nature and vanity. She saw evil and good, and she twisted both.
She was twisting right now.
"The thing is." Harris paused. "Eric can't be alone. You know?"
Vivian nodded. "Yeah, I know."
"And that means we can't trust each other, can we?" Harris looked at Mel and the other fellow, whom Holly still didn't remember.
"But you trust me?" Vivian was quiet. She was calm and precise about what she said. Holly realized Vivian wasn't offering a damn thing, but she was implying. It was classic Elaine.
And Harris nodded. "Yes."
Vivian took a moment where her face was still and quiet. She pursed her lips. "What do you know?"
Harris looked at Vivian, then Holly, and then back at Vivian. "Eric has a gambling problem. When he was seconded to the Ds at Thirty-Four, over that raid at the dogfighting rings, he worked with one of the guys..."
As the young man trailed off, Vivian nodded. "Road Sarge."
The name made Harris relax. "Is he yours?"
"Afraid not," said Vivian. She reached up and tapped her helmet. "Hey. It's me. I have a confirm on UnSub." Vivian listened intently and nodded. "Affirmative... Oh." A flash of panic crossed her face and Vivian met Holly's gaze. "I have the Doc and her secretary... Uh huh... Uh huh. Him too." Then she looked at Harris. "No, I can't tell you who. But I trust them."
Reflexively, Holly looked at Harris, who tightened his grip on Eric Donofrio's arm. Beside her, Ruth hissed. "Wait, is— are there more of these ... what are they?"
Holly sighed. "Dirty cops. And probably." She put an arm around Ruth. "We're going to be fine."
"You will," said Mel, assuredly. "We're waiting for a clear sign and then we're taking you out of here. If we're lucky, dumb ass there is the only hot head."
While that relieved Ruth, Holly wasn't so sure. Someone else had to have turned off her wifi and blocked the signal. And the power. It was possible one person did it, but... Actually. "Why isn't my phone working?"
Mel sighed. "Don't know for sure."
Then Vivian spoke. "It's a signal blocker. One of ours. Shaw is trying to override it, supposedly."
"Oh?" Mel looked amused. "Could you do it faster?"
Vivian smirked a little. "No. He's faster with that, but he's also not answering."
That prompted Harris to speak up again. "Y'all weren't answering me until Burr showed up."
"Hey, Peck and I were chatting just fine," snapped Mel. "I told you, I radioed you and so did Tran."
Holly watched her daughter stare off into space. That was something new. As a child, Vivian never zoned out unless she was sick. She always payed attention, as if her life depended on it. But, knowing that, Holly realized Vivian was seeing something they weren't.
"Eric, did you set up a blocker?" Vivian frowned. The man said nothing.
"Harris, can you shake him down." There was something in Vivian's tone that, again, spoke of Elaine Peck. Vivian was not asking, she was telling, and she wasn't going to take excuses.
And Harris? He did. While Eric complained, his pockets were emptied and Vivian checked every single item. "What's this?" Harris held up a fabric cased block, about the size of a phone.
Vivian sighed deeply. "Treat it hot," she said and seemingly absently flipped a neck guard up. As Vivian took the device, she moved so her body would block anything from the item. Like it was a bomb.
How absolutely strange to watch her own daughter perform those acts. Holly felt complete dissociation with her emotions and her intellect. Her mind was making connections. Like the fact that Eric had been running around with that thing, so it was likely stable. At the same time, he was clearly expendable to someone. Whomever had organized this. Would they, this nebulous and unknown them, give him a bomb?
And then there were the emotions. Fear. Abject terror. Holly knew she felt them, but they locked themselves away, just like they had when Gail had nearly blown up with the car. Like when Holly had been exposed to Luongo River Fever. Her heart just swallowed the feelings and kept them away from her ability to process.
There was going to be emotional hell to pay for it later, she recognized. And Holly filed that away. She watched Mel, who took a stance as Vivian's support. The role Sabrina used to have. Was that odd for Vivian? To rely on someone totally new?
"Safe," said Vivian, and the room relaxed. "It's a small range anti blocker. Basically, my radio worked when I was here because I was close enough."
"How come we could hear you out there?"
Vivian turned with a dry expression. "I've got the heavy duty broadcaster."
"Of course!" Holly spoke without thinking. A failing, yes. "You're the bomb and electronics expert, so your pack has to have a less hackable radio system. It probably acts as the relay hub for your team."
Her daughter gave her a bemused expression, similar to Gail's fond one. "More or less. That explains the weird background noises. Eric, are they all the same?"
"Dunno what you're talking about."
Vivian sighed. "We'll assume yes," she muttered. "I'm sending details on overriding the block. It's similar to what we use in training." Vivian turned and dialed up someone on her radio.
Similar. That upped the possibility that the organizer of this madness was a rogue ETF agent. Not a comforting thought.
It took serious, conscious effort to not listen in on her daughter. Thankfully Mel seemed to understand the situation and positioned herself to block Holly's line of site. "We'll see you out of here, Doc, right and tight."
More than once, Gail had used that phrase. Vivian had as well. "Do they teach you that in school? Right and tight?"
Mel blinked. "Good question. I don't know where I picked it up from."
"Tran says it," said Vivian. "Okay, we should be all back online and solid in a second."
And lo, every single one of ETF looked like there was a voice in their heads. A ragged rousing reply of 'copy' echoed amongst them and they immediately determined how to arrange themselves in an order. Holly and Ruth would be tucked in with Vivian, who was backed by Mel. In front was Harris, then Donofrio, and then the other boy-man whom Holly kept forgetting.
She kept wanting to call him Berry or Barry.
Holly swallowed and actually looked at his name tag. "Clarke," she muttered under her breath.
Her daughter glanced back. "It's okay, Mom," she said quietly.
"You're the one in body armour," Holly replied, acerbically by reflex.
"It's more likely someone would shoot Eric," Vivian pointed out.
Somehow that was actually comforting.
As Eric was hobbled past Vivian, he made one lunging attempt to do ... something. As if by reflex, Vivian's hand snapped up and connected with his nose.
He went down hard, his legs giving out from under him, and Vivian sighed. "I've really had it up to here with men," she complained.
Just from the way Frankie sauntered over, Gail knew it was all over. "Got him?"
"Oh I got 'em all, Boss," drawled Frankie, in her most self-satisfied way.
"We got all of them, Detective Crankypants," Chloe corrected. She too, however, was smirking. "As soon as word got out that your kid punched Eric, they folded like cheap suits."
Nodding, Frankie leaned on the wall. "He really thought, Gally did I mean, that Viv was gonna go all Peck on his ass."
Gail snorted a laugh. "Well. You two and Trace clean it up then, alright?" Her two friends startled. "But... this is your case, Gail."
She shook her head. "No. Once they tried to kill Holly it wasn't."
Chloe gave Frankie an 'I told you so' look. "Where is she? Holly I mean?" "Giving a statement."
It had been Holly herself who'd kicked Gail right out. She'd admitted to jangled nerves but that Gail would mean it was safe to fall apart, and she needed to get the shit down now. That was probably an artifact of Elaine's education on interrogation.
The more sensitive of the pair, Chloe shifted in her seat. "Is she okay? I mean. I know she's not. But..."
That was such a damned deep question to be asking. "I don't know."
After her exposure to Luongo River Fever, Holly had developed an intense, nearly pathological, discomfort with hospitals. Which was tragically hilarious for a doctor. The prospect of Holly feeling the same way about her place of work, however, was simply tragic.
That said, if Holly woke up tomorrow and announced to Gail that she absolutely couldn't go back to work, well. Gail would support her. Gail would move the god damned planet for Holly.
"I'm sorry," said Chloe. She hesitated and then hugged Gail.
"Okay, this is not how I communicate," whinged Gail, but she didn't fight it.
She would never in her life admit it, but the hug was nice.
"Price, stop manhandling Peck." Frankie sounded a little amused but also apologetic. "Gail. We've got this."
And the thing was, Gail knew they did. They all did. "I want two things," said Gail, gently shoving Chloe away. "I want to know who invented Crave, and I want to know why Galbraith was selling it."
To her surprise, Chloe bobbled her head right away. "Oh we know that already!"
"What?" Gail felt stunned, like the earth had moved five feet to the side. They already knew?
"The road sergeant flipped," drawled Frankie, in her most insufferable tone. "Gally lost a tonne in the housing market crash."
"Uh that was twelve years ago." Gail vague remembered since she'd been considering selling her father's condo around then, and it was a shit show. Which was why she still technically owned it. Frankie narrowed her eyes. That meant Gail was stealing her thunder.
Okay, fine. After the housing market crashed, thanks in massive global instability caused by the upheavals in the US government, brexit, Russian intervention, and the constant threat of nuclear apocalypse, that would have left Galbraith broke with three teenagers, headed to college.
How pedestrian. Money.
Which didn't explain why or how he tumbled on the Crave.
Except...
Gail cleared her throat. "Didn't Gally do that stint in Detroit? Counter terrorism?"
Naturally Chloe beamed and Frankie sulked. "See? I told you." Chloe slapped Frankie's arm with the back of her hand.
"Shut up, Muppet," growled Frankie. "Can we use Simmons to liaise with the States?"
"Savard would appreciate a heads up," Gail said carefully. After all, Marcel was still peeved she'd stolen his thunder and solved the money laundering and gang running.
Chloe nodded. "We caught him up to speed while ETF was out. He and the Martlet's cleaned house."
A lot had gone down in an hour, realized Gail. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "Corrupt cops, down for drug smuggling and embezzlement. Mounties for money laundering. Toss in a biochemist forensic expert from upstate New York to refine a drug. What a fuster cluck."
Her friends grinned.
"I'd be pissed off she figured it out that fast, but damn it's kinda sexy," said Frankie, a little reluctantly.
"She's married," replied Chloe, as if this had been a long standing argument. Which, ew. "And Holly could kick your ass."
Frankie made a noise of agreement. "Fine."
Opting not to think about her friends thinking about her sex life, Gail rolled her eyes. "Okay smart asses, why did they just fuck with Forensics?"
The duo paused. "She won't like it," said Chloe.
"I think she'll like it better than the other option." Frankie eyed Gail thoughtfully. "Maybe," growled Gail. "Maybe I'll hate both of you a little more. Spit it out."
The two inspectors shared a look. Frankie held her hands up. "Coward," said Chloe. "So Holly wasn't the target, she was a convenient bystander. Donofrio said his target was her laptop and notes. The data she doesn't upload to the cloud right away."
Gail blinked. The plan was to mug her? But that made no sense. True, Holly had a tendency to not upload her thoughts to the servers immediately. Any time she was deconstructing, she was a mess. Papers spread out across the office were common enough that Gail would tease her and move on. Normally, yes, Gail could understand stealing the data. Not this time.
"She's not even working on their case," said Gail, confused. "Holly kept herself off it because of Kincaid."
"But she'd worked on the Crave beforehand. And not everything was offloaded yet." Frankie stopped and stared at Gail, expectantly.
People always expected Gail to be clever now that they knew how smart she was. Her track record spoke for itself. Gail scowled and sat down on the corner of the desk. Okay. Holly had been working the Crave case. She'd been investigating the similarities on the deaths, and had been instrumental in finding out the effects of alcohol and the Crave were actually protecting each other.
Okay. Then Gail had tumbled on the bigger case and she and Holly set up a Chinese Wall, so only Gail might go to jail in a worst case scenario. Wait, no. Gail had set up the wall, gotten Holly to loan her Ananda, and kept Holly off the embezzlement and money laundering case.
Which meant Holly, being Holly, had still messed around with the chemical analysis of the drug. It wasn't her forte, Holly was a bone girl at heart, but she'd probably found it something fun and relaxing to study and play with. Which meant she had a notebook filled with scribbling and deductions and theories.
Yes. Ben had to have been the one to tell them. Ben would know Holly's habit. She didn't upload her wild ass theories. God, how Gail hated that. But if Ben told them, they'd know to crack the non-public secure data, the stuff they locked up in the basement to protect from hackers.
"They broke in to get at the closed system," said Gail softly. "To see if Holly's notes were there. Which was why ETF couldn't get the system back up. It shuts down and locks out if there's a physical assault like that. So the backup plan was grab Holly's notes. Which was stupid, because anyone with a brain would tell you she always grabs those in evac drills." Gail scowled. "What the hell is in her notes?"
Chloe shrugged. "That's what Traci's asking, I'd guess."
"Well. That's a son of a bitch," said Gail with a deep exhale. "Use John as much as you need. We need the mastermind behind Crave, and I really don't care who we piss off getting them."
Her friends murmured their agreement and left Gail's office.
What a mess. To have so many of the answers, and yet not the one that would actually solve the problem. Also to green light killing Holly, which was appalling on oh so many levels, had to be a last resort. It could also only happen if they were absolutely sure that Holly had taken notes.
And the only way that was true was if the documentation was from experiments Holly had run in the lab.
Was there another mole in the lab? Or was this just something Ben knew from before he was arrested?
Neither answer made Gail feel good.
She took a photo. Gail was stretched across the outdoor couch on the back porch, her head tipped towards Holly's, the slightly older woman using Gail as a body pillow.
Vivian had seen the scene a hundred times. Her mothers used to send her bed, tuck her in, and then make out or read or listen to sports out back. And Vivian had often come back down, unable to sleep, and sat with them until she drifted off, and Gail carried her back upstairs. Or, as she'd gotten older, she'd harassed them for being such weirdos and idiots.
But watching Gail hold Holly as they slept after the incredibly stressful day. Well. Vivian realized again how much she loved those idiots.
"Hey, Viv—" Jamie cut herself off as she stepped out onto the porch. "Oh. Sorry."
"Don't worry, they're out cold." Vivian smiled and shoved her phone into her pocket, ushering Jamie back inside. "What's up?"
"Where's a container for the salad? Or should I just use plastic wrap?"
"Wrap. It's next to the stove." But before Jamie could go, Vivian caught her waist and tugged her close. "Hey. Can I kiss you?"
Jamie grinned up at Vivian. "Yeah. Heroes totally get kisses."
Rolling her eyes, Vivian ducked her head to kiss her girlfriend. "I just did my job, ma'am."
Arms wrapped around Vivian's neck, holding her in place. "You saved your mom. And had a kick ass plan that got Jenny's dad's rep back. And? Punched out an evil cop."
"Not quite as cool as punching a Nazi," sighed Vivian.
Jamie kissed her again, slower. "In light of there being no known Nazis in the vicinity, this was an acceptable substitute."
They stood in the kitchen, kissing, for a while. Long enough that Vivian started to get a crick in her neck. Possibly Jamie too, as she sighed and stepped into Vivian's chest, tucking her head under Vivian's chin. It was nice. Comforting. "You okay with crashing here?" Vivian ran her fingers through Jamie's hair, brushing it back.
"Uh, hello. And eat Gail's super guilty breakfast?" Jamie snorted. "But yeah, totally okay with moral support."
"Thanks." Vivian closed her eyes, taking in the moment. "You okay?"
The question was asked without a pressing need for a deep reply. It was just a simple, gentle thought.
"More or less. Kinda sad."
"I thought Eric was a nice guy," admitted Jamie. "He showed me how to use the cross grip on the salmon ladder."
"That's the scary thing," Vivian said darkly. "They always seem like nice people. Same's true of serial killers."
"Can't trust white guys," Jamie muttered and squeezed her once more before letting go to wipe off the counters. "Do you get promotions based on how much shit you cope with? Because both your moms got held hostage and you shot the guys who did it!"
Vivian sighed. "I'm really glad therapy's covered by insurance."
She hadn't actually shot Eric. Not that it mattered. She didn't have a clear shot, with Ruth too close to her angle. The point Jamie was trying to make was valid. It had really been a screwed up year.
"Just a couple days off, eh?"
"Yeah. The rest of the week and probably desk next week. They take all this seriously." Vivian leaned on the counter. "We don't have to stay."
Her girlfriend rolled her eyes. "Babe, you may be weirdly close to your moms, but staying home after this kind of a day makes hella sense."
Unbidden, a smile ran across Vivian's face. "Home, huh?"
Jamie laughed, nervously. "Crap." Her cheeks coloured immediately. "I mean... it's kind of like my home too sometimes?"
It was adorable. Vivian reached out her hands. With only a small hesitation, Jamie stepped again. This time, Vivian easily hefted her pint sized powerhouse of a girlfriend onto the counter, making herself the shorter one for the nonce. "It's sweet. I know Moms like you."
"Hmm." With a less nervous laugh, Jamie looped her arms around Vivian's shoulders. "Your moms offered to adopt me."
"Oh? When was that?"
"Two years ago? Whenever you were being stupid about your aunt."
Vivian winced. "When I was drunk and propositioned you. Right."
"I really don't think 'Hey babe, wanna screw?' is a proposition as much as you seemed to," noted Jamie, teasingly.
"Jesus, and you stayed with me after that?"
"The subsequent pouting when I said no was absolutely adorable." Jamie grinned at her and tugged at Vivian's neck, clearly angling for another kiss.
Any further attempts at kissing were blocked by Gail and Holly laughing and the sound of a camera.
"Just so you know, I've got one of you two sleeping," said Vivian. She kept one arm around Jamie as they turned to look at the other women, and the fact that Holly's eyes lit up was not missed.
Did they always have to make such a fuss about it? It made her nervous.
Gail thankfully gave her a slight nod. "I want desert. And I want a shower. And I want to sleep. You two staying the night?"
"If that's okay," said Jamie, hesitantly. "This idiot would sleep better knowing you two slept okay."
"Well, I guess we did something right with her," decided Gail. "Ice cream."
"You always want ice cream in summer," Holly teased.
"It's hot! And I'm all sweaty because you were sleeping on me!" Before she could step to the freezer, Gail's phone buzzed. Everyone went still as Gail studied the phone and then tapped it. "Peck."
As Vivian was about to suggest they back away, her phone rang. "This is not good," said Holly, and she pulled out her phone, but it did not ring.
"It's Sue," said Vivian and she tapped to answer. "Peck."
"Good news. No one else on ETF appears to be related to the corruption. Care to tell me who you got your intel from?"
That was Sue. Don't mince words. However Vivian already knew her answer to that question. In fact, she'd been waiting for it. "No can do, Boss."
Sue laughed. "Right, thought so. Take the rest of the week off."
"It's Thursday," drawled Vivian. Not that she wasn't grateful. "Thanks." Sue laughed again, told her to get some rest, and hung up.
"That sounded anticlimactic," Holly grumbled.
Gail, still on the phone, was looking at the floor. A sure sign the conversation was deep. "I'll tell them. Thanks." And she too hung up. "Junior, you're off till Monday, right?"
"So says Sue." Vivian toggled her phone to silent and tucked it away.
"Holly, you won't get your office back till end of next week, at the earliest. We've got a lot of people flipping though, so that's alright." Gail grimaced and ran her hands through her hair before staring at Jamie, a little surprised. "Public info, which you will hear about online in about five minutes, is that ThirtyFour Division was running a money laundering and drug ring with the Squeaky Shoe Gang."
Jamie blurted a laugh. "It's — I'm sorry. That's was SSG stands for?"
While Gail smiled wryly and nodded, Vivian kept her mouth shut. About that at least. "How many tiers did they lose?"
"Uh. Well, I have to go in tomorrow and talk to Anderson." Gail's expression was chagrined.
Holly and Vivian caught it in one. Jamie was a moment behind. "Didn't Frankie just become Inspector? Or is there another Anderson?"
"Oh, no. She's brand new, and I'd just installed her as head D there." Gail scowled. "It works so much better when I have minions."
Holly gave Vivian a suffering look. Did she see what Holly had to put up with? "Zander can be your head D, and Frankie will still report to you since you terrify her." Holly reached out and brushed at Gail's collar, as if smoothing down non-existent lapels.
It was a comforting motion, something Vivian had seen Holly do a million times. It was a simple, honest, moment to tell Gail that Holly loved her. And Gail still, always, sheepishly smiled back.
Vivian sighed and smiled.
They were still lovestruck idiots, her mothers, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
Holly woke with a start, her heart pounding.
A nightmare. More like a memory. From just a few hours before. She was remembering the feeling, the moment when a young man held a gun aimed at her and said sorry.
But that moment was past. It was over and done and gone. Holly was safe. She was home, in her own bed, with a pale, pale arm across her waist, holding her close. Behind her, a soft, deep breath reinforced what that arm meant. What safety meant.
Holly exhaled deeply and tried to relax into that arm and warm body.
It was futile. Her mind was racing, spinning down the myriad paths of might have beens. Screaming at her, in fact, that she might have died. Could have. Should have.
Thank god their therapist was available for the next day, and had even been free for a phone chat earlier. That was Gail's insistence. She refused to let Holly linger after that kind of trauma, and Holly was grateful.
There was just no way she was going back to sleep.
Easing out of bed, Holly glanced back at her wife. Gail was sacked out. That was rare, seeing Gail sleep that soundly, and Holly was entirely loathe to bother or wake her. Still, she did kiss Gail's temple, tuck her in more soundly, and quietly left their bedroom. Maybe something warm to drink would help.
The kitchen light was on, to Holly's surprise, and Vivian was busy at the stove. Stirring something.
"Hey, Mom."
Well. Wasn't that a weird talent. Vivian just knew when people were up. "You know, if you have kids, they're never going to be able to sneak in."
"Hah." Vivian shot Holly an amused look. "I knew Gail was going to just pass out. All her terrified adrenaline dumps end like that."
"Oh and mine don't?" Smiling, Holly sat on a kitchen stool. There were two mugs on the counter. Clearly Vivian had a plan.
"If we count all the times I've seen you get your clock cleaned playing sports, no." Her daughter grinned, shaking her head. "You always get super energized and don't sleep."
Okay, fine. She had a point. "And you're up because...?"
"Because I punched a guy I thought was my friend, who betrayed us. And it kinda sits on you." Vivian shrugged. "Still processing that one."
Holly sighed. Gail had said much the same when she'd arrested people she'd come up ranks with, some her own family. It had been so incredibly hard on Gail, to bring down the law on people she had knows so well. "I don't envy that, honey."
Unlike Gail, Vivian shrugged somewhat indifferently. "Eric made his choice, Mom. I can't do that for him." She turned off the stove and poured the mixture into cups. The comforting smell of warm milk, cinnamon, and cocoa drifted through the kitchen. "That's the thing. All of this is a choice."
"This conversation feels backwards. Shouldn't I be comforting you?"
"I'm actually trained in stupid people with guns," said Vivian primly, and she handed Holly a mug of hot cocoa. With marshmallows.
Wisely, Holly sipped before she spoke. "Do you actually get used to it?"
"No." Her daughter took a seat. "Yes. Kind of..." Vivian stuck her tongue out. "I'm used to it, but I don't really like it. But ... someone's gotta do this, Mom. Stop abuse of power."
Holly smiled at Vivian. "You are definitely your own person, honey." Predictably, Vivian blushed. "Thanks."
That was her girl alright. A thought occurred. "Viv. There were two gunshots, but you took Eric down with tasers."
The young officer looked surprised. "Three shots. Eric shot twice, both at me more than you, but I think they were just gut reactions rather than, y'know, aiming. The third shot was Mel hitting his pack."
Someone shooting without aiming was actually terrifying. But... "You didn't shoot?" Vivian shook her head. "Why not?"
"Two reasons. My angle was bad, and I might have hit Ruth or you if you'd moved." Sufficiently terrifying, decided Holly. "Second reason?"
Vivian hesitated. "You can't take that kind of thing back."
For the first time, Holly saw something in her daughter that was pure cop, but which had never been seen in Gail. After all, Gail had never shot anyone in her life. But Vivian. Not only had Vivian shot and killed a man, but she'd seen people shot in front of her more than once.
And this time, Vivian had been in a situation where she didn't have to shoot. So she didn't.
She was the cop they'd hoped would grow out of the disasters of the latter half of the 2010s.
"You know... when you were about eight or ten, there was a lot of tension about cops and shooting people," said Holly thoughtfully. "We'd had riots and god, the US was a cluster fuck."
Vivian snorted. "I can't believe they elected that maniac."
"I can," Holly admitted. "Because people do weird, stupid things when they're afraid. And he fed on all of that." She sighed. "But for a long time, most of your growing up, people didn't like cops. They were the bad guys."
Her daughter nodded. "With good reason, Mom. Jesus, they shot students, protected armed Nazis in the streets. And did you read that study about how many White Supremacists are in the force and military? It's insane!"
"But you're not that cop."
Vivian blinked and then said, in a near perfect deadpan. "Mom, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not white."
They both laughed. "Sweetheart." Holly shook her head. "If anyone was going to pass for crazy white people, it's Gail and we all know it."
"Maybe Steve," muttered Vivian under her breath.
"Or Elaine." They both smirked. "The point is, you could be those people. We aren't the only influences in your life."
Vivian made a face Holly hadn't seen before. She wasn't quite sure how to interpret the expression as it crossed self-disappointment and dissatisfaction. "Mom." She sighed. "So. Part of why I didn't shoot was we kinda set me up as a bad guy."
"Excuse me?" And now Holly felt like her parents. No. Like her mother. Dear god, she sounded like Lily when Holly had declared her intention to pursue Forensics.
"You know how there are always stories? Like about how Elaine was evil and Mom's secretly corrupt which is how come we have money?" Hesitantly, Holly nodded. "We're trying to flush out all the crooked cops. So we made it look like I'm the rival."
There were more. And Vivian was planing a long con to take them down. Jesus. "How do you do that?" The question was out before Holly had a chance to think about it. "How do you just ... keep on going?"
Her daughter didn't flinch. "Because... I have to, Mom. It sucks, a lot of the time, and I'm scared a lot but... The trick of it all is that you keep going. Keep taking one more step and change it as you go." Vivian looked up at the stairs. "It's what Mom does, you know."
Of course. Intellectually Holly knew that. Vivian had always gravitated towards Gail because the woman showed her a path through the darkness. A way forward in the chaos and fear.
"I'm not as strong as you two," said Holly quietly.
And her kid, the little girl who hated touching people and showers and was uncomfortable around strangers, the teenager who shouted at them for making her believe she was normal, the young woman who put on a uniform and followed their footsteps, put down her mug and wrapped Holly in a hug.
"Mom, you don't have to be," said Vivian, with a gentleness Holly had never heard directed at her. "You've got me, and Mom, and granddad, and even Steve. Okay? We're all here for you. Always."
Maybe this feeling, the warmth and kindness of Vivian's hug, was why Gail liked Holly's hugs. It was safe right there. Calm. Holly closed her eyes and let her daughter hold and support her for right then. Because it was what she needed. And somehow Vivian knew that.
Holly sighed. "You're going to be a great parent someday," she blurted.
"Oh I don't know," laughed Vivian. "I'm pretty sure I can't accidentally knock Jamie up."
Even Holly had to laugh at that memory. "Dare to dream," she teased and gave Vivian a squeeze before letting go. "Thank you, honey."
"Anytime, Mom. Seriously." And Vivian didn't even look a whit embarrassed as she said it. She was serious.
For the first time, Holly was absolutely sure of one thing about being a parent.
She'd done a good job.
And we end season five here. There are still some questions, and yes, some horrible evil cops out there. Is there still a spy in the lab? Come back next season!
That was evil, right?
This season should leave you a bit unsettled, though. I mean, the thought of Frankie Anderson being the Inspector for ThirtyFour is terrifying.
