A/N - Sorry it's a bit late, odd weekend!

A/N II - Lots of lovely and heartfelt thanks to the great readers who've reviewed, PMed and emailed me this week. It means a lot. -x-

Chapter 13

Best Laid Plans

'You want to do what!' demanded Dennis Randall, gesturing at the folder on his desk. 'Bob, are you insane?'

The Chief sat in Randall's office, knowing this was going to be an awkward conversation. He'd given Dennis a quick summary of what had happened and presented his plan. It had been a close call, but Ironside had decided that getting Dennis on-side would be an advantage he could use to talk Murray into agreeing afterwards. But now, having seen Randall's response at hearing his suggestion, he suddenly wasn't so sure.

'You can't possibly think that I will agree to this!' Randall added.

Ironside paused for a moment. He might be the Chief of Police but that didn't mean he could do whatever he liked, not when it came to dangerous undercover work. He couldn't just order Murray or anyone in that division to fall into line. There were some rules even he couldn't circumvent. Not while keeping his job, at least. He gave a firm nod.

'I know you'll agree,' he said, not taking his eyes off his friend. 'Because it's the right thing to do.'

Dennis gave a loud snort.

'Bob, I know what you're…'

Ironside cut in, his voice soft but filled with conviction.

'I want to get a dangerous cop-killer off the streets. That's the important thing!'

'Well, I didn't read much in the way of evidence in there,' Randall pointed back to the file, 'so if we bring the man in, can we make it stick?'

The Chief had anticipated that objection. He nodded.

'Even if we can't get him for Carelli, there's a lot on him in New York. I'm sure they would love to get him back to the East Coast.'

Dennis scowled, but didn't reply. It was hard to argue with that. They glared at each other for another few seconds.

'And you think this is the right way to do it?' Dennis asked, his tone earnest rather than sarcastic. 'Using a young officer as live bait?'

That was also hard to argue with, even if it was an ugly way of putting it.

'Brown has agreed.'

'I don't care what Mister Brown thinks!' snapped Randall.

The Chief gave an angry huff. He fixed the Deputy Commissioner with his most ferocious glare.

'I've told you what happened yesterday,' he snapped back. 'Brown was attacked and searched,' he gave the word special emphasis, 'and one of the only reasons he's still standing is down to Sergeant Reese's quick response. We have to act.'

'Y-' started Dennis. Ironside ignored him and kept talking.

'Officer Brown is a target. He's in trouble, big trouble. And he needs the help of people I trust.'

Dennis was shaking his head, looking both furious and resigned simultaneously. It was an expression Ironside was very familiar with.

'You are an impossible man,' Randall said, rubbing his forehead. 'And you're going to get me fired!' He huffed again. 'Why bring it to me, Bob? Why are you here and not speaking to the Commissioner?'

Ironside gave a wry smile.

'Because I trust you,' he said. 'Someone in that office leaked the reward. I can't risk another leak. This is too important.'

'If you think I'm going to go behind the back of my boss, you are very much mistaken, Bob!'

Dennis crossed his arms and huffed once more, looking away. Ironside could almost hear the grinding of his teeth.

'The longer this goes on, the more dangerous it's going to get.' The Chief paused, trying to catch Randall's attention as he looked off to the side. 'I don't have time to plug the leak and to hunt the suspect before he has another try at Ed. We're running out of time.' Dennis didn't reply. 'If we don't do this now, it's only going to get more difficult. Officer Brown is a target. Are you going to put him into protective custody? For a few days? A week? A month?'

Dennis kept silent, still looking angry.

'And after? Assuming there is an after?' Ironside continued, relentless in his logic. 'Ed's confidence will be gone completely, you know how hard he's had it. He'll never get past this.'

Dennis still said nothing, but glared back, his face fixed with a frown. Ironside recognised that look. It was the one that meant: I know you're right but I'm damned if I'm going to admit it to you!

'He's a good officer,' Ironside said. 'And he's a good man. Are you saying we should leave him to deal with this on his own?'

'You know perfectly well that is not what I'm saying,' Dennis replied. 'But that doesn't mean you should be encouraging him to be reckless. You said it yourself, the man been through too much. You can't ask him, and you can't order him as he's still suspended.'

'It's not reckless,' Ironside said, deliberately focusing on the first part of the statement. 'It's carefully thought out.'

'By you?'

'Yes. And it's our best chance to get this killer.' He leaned forward again. 'The man has targeted Ed once, he'd going to do it again. And soon. But he won't be expecting a trap. But we have to act now, today, we can't risk this getting out. We don't have time to wait.'

Dennis said nothing, but gave the Chief a stern, angry look. Then he stood, and moved to stand by the window, crossing his arms as he looked out to the world beyond.

Ironside waited. Ed needed help, he needed the Chief to back him up. And to back Ed up properly, Ironside needed the Deputy Commissioner to agree. He trusted Dennis. They'd been friends since the first day he'd started on the force. If there was one man in the whole building he could trust to help, it was Dennis Randall. He knew the right thing when he saw it. With Randall's blessing he would take this to Murray and they could get on with it.

The office was silent for a long time. When Dennis came back to the desk, he picked up the file and took out the top sheet, and signed his name quickly across the bottom, and threw the pen back down on the desk as if it had burned him. Then he returned the paper to the file, closed it and handed it back to the Chief, his face impassive.

'Thank you, Dennis,' Ironside said, standing up. His friend gave a sigh.

'You know, one of these days you're going to be wrong, Bob,' Dennis told him. 'For all our sakes, I pray that it's not today.'

'You want to do what?' demanded Lieutenant Murray Simon. 'Are you insane?'

Murray stood at the other side of the desk in his office glaring down at the Chief, one hand on his hip and brandishing the file with the other. He was a small man, slim with a shock of white hair and an inscrutable, almost morose, air about him. Within the department he was well known for his honesty, his reliability and for being calm in any and all circumstances. Except, it seemed, when the Chief of Police suggested something like this. Ironside had never seen him look so upset.

'There's no need to be rude,' Ironside replied with a smile, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. But that made Murray more annoyed. He slapped the folder he was holding down on to his desk.

'You can't possibly think I'll agree!' Murray said with a snort.

'I know you'll agree,' Ironside said, not taking his eyes off the Lieutenant. 'Because it's the right thing to do.'

Murray gave a loud huff. He sat down heavily in his seat and crossed his arms.

'Chief, you're on th-'

Ironside cut in, getting a powerful sense of deja vu.

'I want to get a dangerous killer off the streets. You know I do. That's the important thing!'

Murray narrowed his eyes and didn't reply. It was still hard to argue with that truth. They glared at each other across the table.

'And do you think this is the right way to do it?' Murray asked after a pause. 'Using a suspended officer as live bait?'

Ironside liked that statement no better now than he had when Dennis said it. He bit back an unhelpful retort.

'Officer Brown has agreed,' he said calmly.

'He's still Mister Brown!' snapped Murray. 'And the fact that he's agreed is not a plus in this situation!'

'The Deputy Commissioner has agreed too.'

Murray shook his head, still frowning down at the Chief.

'The Deputy Commissioner? Not the Commissioner. That's a big difference.'

Ironside conceded with a shrug. There was a moment of silence, then the Lieutenant leaned back in his chair, elbows on the arms, steepling his fingers. He didn't take his eyes off Ironside as he spoke.

'You have a lot of explaining to do,' Murray said. 'This,' he gestured at the folder on his desk, 'says nothing. And I know what you're going to do, you're going to bluff and bluster and not answer any of my questions. But I'm giving you fair warning, that's not going to work with me today. You know something, and I want to know as well. Because there is no way, in Hell, I am going to sign off on this until I know what you know.'

The man made a fair point and the Chief had anticipated this. Murray was the best officer in Internal Affairs, highly regarded and fiercely protective of all the members of the police force. He'd never agree to anything like this without understanding exactly why it was needed.

But it was more than that, the Chief trusted Murray. He'd only been a Lieutenant at Internal Affairs for less than three months, but he'd never put anything above his honesty and loyalty to the force. The Chief had never met a man who was better suited at his work. The whole department knew it too. And Murray was the only one in the Department who had the skilled manpower to help him.

'I'm sorry for not coming to you with this earlier,' he said. 'At the start, I wasn't sure.'

As he explained about his suspicions over Carelli's death, Murray watched him without expression. When he came to the coroner's report, the Chief hesitated and for the first time, the other man smiled.

'You can relax, Chief,' he said. 'I saw the coroner yesterday afternoon. And I read his report. I know what's in it.'

'And?' Ironside asked.

'And I see where you are going with this,' Murray replied, arching his eyebrows. 'That was my conclusion too.'

'So Brown is…'

'Not so fast!' Murray said, pointing at him. 'Because I still have some questions. Brown's not back on the field yet.' He paused. 'And maybe he shouldn't be off the bench for a few weeks, considering what happened yesterday evening.'

That piqued the Chief's interest. He hadn't mentioned the attack on Brown yet.

'Yesterday evening?' he asked.

'There are four patrolmen standing outside your office,' Murray replied, giving a mirthless smile. 'All friends of Brown, all looking very sorry for themselves. It wasn't hard to find out what they did to him.'

'Oh,' Ironside said. He'd forced himself to "forget" about them for the moment, the four men whose thoughtless, selfish but suspiciously convenient actions last night had left Ed out on his own. His first impulse after leaving Carl's had been to go back to the office and tear them to thin shreds. Fortunately, his good sense had overridden his temper. It might have been a very unfortunate coincidence. And if it wasn't, then there was nothing to be gained from questioning them right there and then. None of them would have admitted anything, he had no proof and no leverage, and if he had let any hint of what he was planning out that would only serve to undermine their advantage and put Ed in greater danger.

Instead, he'd left them standing in the corridor all morning, in full view of everyone, and by all accounts they were still there. He'd told Bill from downstairs to check up on them discretely and send them home in disgrace mid-afternoon. He'd get back to them once they had the suspect in custody.

'And that's all you know about last night?' the Chief asked tentatively.

'What? There's more?' Murray demanded, scowling.

With a sigh, Ironside explained what had happened to Brown after being ejected by force from his house, how he'd been beaten and searched, and how he'd spent the night under the roof of the Reeses. As the Chief spoke, he watched Murray's expression change from concern to deep worry.

'And you're suggesting I let him go undercover?' Murray asked as he finished. 'After something like that? He's j-'

'I know what you're going to say,' Ironside said, interrupting before Murray could continue, 'but Brown's agreed.'

'Chief, that makes it worse. The man's not thinking straight.'

Ironside leaned forward. He had to convince Murray, he couldn't let this drag on.

'We both know that this suspect won't stop. Brown's in danger until we get the killer off the streets and into custody.'

Murray pursed his lips. Ironside could see he didn't like the way this was headed. The Chief couldn't blame him for that reaction, but they needed to get this done.

'Ed's at the end of the line, Murray,' he said. 'And I need him to know that we need him.'

Murray pulled a long face, shaking his head in despair.

'When did you speak to him?'

'First thing this morning.'

'Tell me,' he said. 'All of it.'

Ironside did. Well, most of it, at least. He didn't explain about how completely Ed had broken down, and sat shaking beside him in tears for almost an hour, overwhelmed by the terrible loss and sorrow that he was holding. Ironside didn't feel he had that right and Ed deserved some privacy after everything that had happened. Perhaps it was the wrong decision, but it wasn't his to make. The Chief understood the insidious nature of gossip, and although Murray was always the soul of discretion, he didn't want any of what had happened this morning to end up in a police report. There was no need for that.

When he stopped, he saw Murray looking shrewdly at him.

'I'd hate to think you were holding out on me,' he said, peering at Ironside, his eyebrows slightly raised. Murray was a smart man, he knew the Chief's history, and he knew all about the heartbreak in Ed's life as well. He had already put two and two together. But he didn't ask for more details, and the Chief appreciated it.

'I don't like this, Robert,' he said seriously. 'If it goes wrong, Brown could end up in deep trouble.'

'Someone will be there.'

Murray shrugged.

'Maybe, but if it does go wrong, will he be able to get himself out of it?'

Ironside was about to say that nothing bad was going to happen, but he stopped himself. Saying something like that was just like asking for trouble to descend. Besides, Murray was right. The plan was good, as good as he could make it, but it wasn't fool-proof. They were dealing with a cold, ruthless killer who had everything to lose. Who knew what he would do if pushed into a corner? That was exactly what they couldn't afford to do, for Ed's sake as well as their case.

Murray was looking back down at the file, his forehead creased, his expression tense. Ironside didn't speak as he read through the file again.

'It's a good plan,' he said softly. 'Thorough. Clever too.'

'We can't use the usual men from the department with this,' Ironside said. 'If it leaks out, Brown's in it deeper. I can only trust you, and the men that you trust without question.'

'I see Reese and Anderson are missing.'

Ironside nodded.

'The suspect was at the Rum Runner and he recognised Ed. I have no idea if he saw the other officers on duty. Reese and Anderson were both there that morning. I'm not going to risk it.'

'And you're missing too. Why are you taking a back seat?'

'I'm the Chief of Police,' he said stiffly. 'I can't risk being recognised either.'

What he wanted to do was a completely different matter. In other circumstances, only an order from the President himself would have stopped the Chief being out there, having his friend's back. But he didn't dare risk being recognised. It might have been a long shot but he wasn't going to bet Ed's life on that.

Murray gave a rueful nod.

'I don't like it, but I can understand your reasoning,' he said. 'And it's a good plan. But Brown?' Murray shook his head, 'I'm worried, Chief. I honestly don't know if he can do this. He's young and inexperienced, he's still grieving over his fiancée's death. He's been attacked. Injured. Robbed.' Murray paused, leaning forward and clasping his hand together. 'I think you're asking too much of him, Chief. I don't think it's fair.'

What had been fair in Ed's life recently? Nothing! Loss had been the only constant in his life for months. But Brown needed to know that there was still a place for him in the force and that, in spite of what had happened at the boarding house last night, there were still police officers out there who would look out for each other, and for him. He needed a reason to believe, or it would all go to waste. Anne's death might have been meaningless, but Ed had a chance to make it mean something and make a difference in the world.

Ed had talent. He was smart, diligent, honest, capable. But there was something else about him as well, a streak of absolute determination that the Chief had only seen before in a very few people. He had almost buckled right after Anne died, but he hadn't. Ironside had intervened in time and showed him there was still a reason to get up in the morning. And once Ed had seen that, he'd changed. He wasn't the same man he'd been the first time they'd gone out to Miller's Farm for a spin in the Ford. He'd glimpsed the possibilities, and understood that there was something more he could do with his life, to dedicate it in service of something greater. Few people could make that sort of commitment and carry it all the way, but Ironside knew, in the very centre of his heart, that Ed Brown was such a man. And he wasn't going to let Ed give up without giving him a chance to do just that.

'You're putting a lot of trust in one young officer,' Murray said.

'And he's putting a lot of trust in me,' the Chief replied.

'But he has nothing to lose,' observed Murray, arching his eyebrows. 'If he's pushed to the edge, he's got nothing to keep him from stepping off.'

Ironside paused. They both knew it was true.

'He won't,' he said.

Murray looked doubtfully at him.

'I've got to say this, Robert,' he muttered. 'If you're wrong and the pressure breaks him, it's your career, and probably mine and Randall's that will go up in flames.' Murray leaned forward again, shaking his head. 'And I'm not talking about Brown's future in the department. I'm talking about his life. This goes wrong, all three of us will have his blood on our hands.'

'I know,' Ironside replied. 'But he can do it.'

'I'm not inclined to agree with you.'

'He can do it,' the Chief insisted. 'And he will.'

'You trust him that much?'

Ironside didn't hesitate.

'Yes,' he said firmly.

At that, Murray took a long slow breath in, closing his eyes for a few moments. Ironside waited, unsure how this would go. He needed Murray to sign on, he needed the men in this department. If the Lieutenant didn't agree, he didn't have much in the way of a Plan B.

'Okay, Chief,' Murry said at last. 'You win, I'll sign on. And you'll have my very best men.'

'Thank you.'

'I'm not sure you should be thanking me,' Murray replied with a deep sigh. He moved to pick up the phone on his desk. 'I'll get on it straight away.'

There was an awkward pause as the other man waited for him to leave. But Ironside didn't move. Murray looked at him, eyebrows raised.

'Is there more?' he asked incredulously.

With a slow nod, the Chief smiled.

'I need one other small favour,' he said.

What the hell am I doing? Ed said to himself. I must be insane.

This was the most dangerous part of the plan, when the most could go wrong. Even though he'd spent the afternoon preparing, going through all the details and contingencies, trying to get it all straight in his head, Ed still wasn't sure he could quite believe what he'd agreed to do. Hearing the Chief's plan had terrified him in a way he'd not felt before, particularly when he'd realised just how much trust the Chief was putting in him. The thought had made him feel sick, and for a few moments his mouth hadn't worked and he couldn't move. Then somehow, he'd given a stiff nod, and shut down the worry and the doubts, focusing on what Ironside wanted him to do.

So now he was walking along the main street close to the boarding house, retracing his movements from the evening before, feeling obvious, uncomfortable and still terrified. His clothes were torn in places, he was unshaven and looked as if he'd lost a bar brawl. The bruising round his neck was as colourful as it had been last night, the cuts on his face stung if he spoke, and his right hand was still bandaged.

Ed took long, measured steps, taking his time, just as the Chief had told him to. But even if he had wanted to rush, he couldn't. The pills from the doctor had helped take the edge off, but he still felt like he'd spent the night being tumbled about in a cement mixer, and if he turned too fast in certain directions there was a sharp bolt of pain to remind him not to do that again.

As he walked towards his front door, a dizzying rush of anticipation and a pulse of fear almost made him stumble. Earlier, Ironside had levelled with him: this was dangerous. And a huge risk. And he had very little in the way of backup if anything went seriously wrong, he didn't even have a gun. The suspect had killed Leo, and others before. He'd kill again without a second thought.

The plan was to get the man out in the open. All Ed had to do was get the suspect to follow him. It sounded simple when Ironside had explained it this morning, but now in the street alone, Ed couldn't stop the doubts as they flooded his mind. Was he up to this? Could he keep his emotions in check? Was he going to panic and blow the whole set-up?

And what if it went wrong? A cold shiver raced down his back. The Chief had trusted him before and that had gone wrong. Tonight, it felt like anything could happen.

Ed gulped at the thought, and looked nervously up and down the street, not sure what he expected to see. The night was pleasantly warm and dry, very different from yesterday. There were a few people walking around and no one paid him any attention, in spite of the state of his clothes. It must be at least ten by now, but with no watch he had no way to check.

Automatically, he reached to his left wrist, rubbing it, but there was nothing that could be done now. The bitterness and anger he felt was useless. And distracting. And pointless.

And distracting. Very distracting.

Ed scowled, annoyed at himself. Getting distracted by that wasn't helping. He had to concentrate on his job tonight. He was going to follow the Chief's plan, to the letter, and help bring the man in. That was all that mattered at the moment. Regret still bubbled just below the surface, along with a whole suite of complicated and difficult emotions, but he had a job to do, and he was going to do everything in his power to get it done. He could worry about the rest of it later.

On the sidewalk just outside the boarding house door, he stopped, still looking nervously around. The Chief had told him to relax, and look like he knew what he was doing, but it was next to impossible. He never felt less like he knew what he was doing in his life. Was undercover work always like this?

Last night, as well as finding him and helping him, Sergeant Reese had also retrieved his ripped jacket and, more importantly, his house key. Presumably the men who'd attacked him had no need of it. He had no recollection of that happening there had been too much else to worry about, and he'd not even thought about it until Carl had returned it to him this afternoon.

Truthfully, he wasn't sure if he was pleased or not, he dreaded what he'd find. The Chief had said his room had been turned over: "thoroughly searched" was the exact phrase, and he was sure that meant most of his belongings were broken.

Steeling himself with a deep breath, Ed climbed the steps, unlocked the door and went inside. No one was there. The place was still and silent as the morgue on a Sunday afternoon.

Ed gave a sigh of relief. They'd talked about what to do if someone challenged him, and Ed hadn't been looking forward to confronting any of his "friends". Larry, Jerry, Dalton and Sam: The four people he should have been able to ask for help. He'd thought they'd have his back, but that wasn't that way it had worked out. Tonight he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to speak to them again.

Back at the Reese's house, as he'd spoken to the Chief, a very unpleasant and nasty idea had occurred to him: That maybe his "friends" had thrown him out deliberately to set him up, and maybe they were part of this too. Ed didn't want to believe it, but for the previous few hours, from the moment he'd explained to Ironside what had happened here, he'd been dogged by the thought. It hurt almost as much as the bruises on his back, and though he tried, he struggled to ignore the feeling of betrayal. Yesterday, he'd known they'd been angry, but he'd still trusted them.

At the thought, Ed glanced toward the now-empty lounge, caught up in the memory of last night. He'd never imagined they'd actually throw him out. He could remember the look of fury on Sam's face and the cold, efficient way he'd been manhandled out of the door. Was it part of a conspiracy to get him outside? Or had it just been an unfortunate coincidence?

Ed had no answer, and he wasn't sure he wanted one either. It was bad enough that Leo had crossed the fence, without finding out that one or all of his other friends had as well. That thought also wasn't helping him concentrate. The Chief was adamant that Leo had tipped the suspect off and gotten a bullet in his back as a reward. He'd thought he'd known Leo, and he'd trusted him, just as he'd trusted all of them. He wasn't sure who to trust right now.

That wasn't true. He trusted the Chief, and Carl as well. He trusted that the Chief knew what he was doing.

He had to stick to the plan, and standing around listlessly in the corridor wasn't part of it, so Ed forced himself to move and stop dwelling on the past. He walked to his room, opened the door and stepped inside, expecting the worst. He wasn't disappointed. Staring in dismay at the mess, Ed let the door swing shut behind him with a click. "Thoroughly searched" felt like an understatement.

It took him a few moments to take in what he was seeing, the scattered bits and pieces of his life strewn over the floor. His clothes had been ripped, his mattress cut open, his books shredded, his furniture broken. Underneath the window, his suitcase was lying on its side, the letters, keepsakes and mementos it contained dumped and trampled over. Nothing in the room had escaped untouched.

Ed's gaze finally came to rest on the broken photograph frame. He knelt down beside it, pulled the picture itself out from under the shards of glass, and tried to smooth out the creases. Then he stumbled back to sit on the edge of the bed, and stared at it, running the tip of his finger over her face. He had no more tears today, the crescendo of grief had passed earlier when he'd broken down in front of his boss.

He felt uncomfortable at the memory, as much about understanding more about the Chief as breaking down. Ironside was clearly a man who liked to keep his personal life private. There had always been curiosity about Ironside's family, but there was very little gossip or backtalk about him in the locker room. He was married to the job they said, and most men assumed his wife had walked out, if he'd even had one in the first place.

But this morning, Ed had discovered the truth: that there had once been a Mrs Robert T. Ironside, a woman that the Chief had loved and cherished with all his heart, and that she'd died suddenly, just like Anne. He'd seen it in the Chief's eyes as they'd spoken, the grief was unmistakable. He didn't know the details, and one day he hoped he'd be able to ask. But it was enough tonight to know that the Chief could empathise with what Ed was going through. Because if Ironside could survive something as terrible as losing the woman he loved, then maybe, just maybe, he could as well. It wasn't much, but right now it was something to hold on to.

With a terse shake of his head, he reminded himself he was on a time limit. He had a job to do, and the Chief expected him to get on with it, not be distracted by things he couldn't change.

Ed put the photograph down on the bed. Then he stood, picked up his suitcase from under the window where it had been left, and began to pack his belongings into it as quickly as he could. The larger items he left behind, so it only took him a few minutes. Finally, almost ready to leave, he picked up the photo again and, after a moment's hesitation, he folded it in half and tucked it into his inner jacket pocket.

Leaving his room unlocked, Ed walked back to the front door, thinking about what he had to do next. He was going to be a target until the suspect was brought in. Once outside, there was no going back.

At the thought, a cold shiver raced down Ed's back. Did he regret agreeing to this? Maybe he did. But it was too late to change his mind.