AN: This isn't the halfway point yet but I wanted to thank everyone who has left reviews or talked with me about the story. I appreciate your words and your patience.
And to all the guest reviews you guys get a special shoutout of thanks since I can't respond to you in any fashion. So, thank you and XOXOX for reading this sequel.
"Detective Fusco…."
Lionel lifted his head at the summons and saw Agent Donnelly striding into the precinct much like he owned the place. Agent Donnelly was a good guy but was more of a stickler for the rules than Carter was which was saying something.
He arrived early because Agent Donnelly had agreed to meet him at the 8th precinct by 8AM. Lionel eyed his computer's clock seeing it was 7:59. The man was punctual.
"Thanks for agreeing to come by, Donnelly," Lionel said as he stood, picking up the manila folder. "You're going to want to see this."
Donnelly didn't respond verbally but nodded to one of the interrogation rooms they utilized in their investigation into Elias, Paul, and Marconi's deaths. After Donnelly pulled the plug Lionel hadn't heard squat about it since. Once they were enclosed together, Donnelly sighed. "I know you put feelers out with contacts in the agency to find out what is going on with the Elias investigation. I came to meet with you to hear what you wish to discuss but also to ask you respectfully to cease in your inquiry."
Fusco shrugged. "I'm sorry, Donnelly; I spent months working on that investigation only to have it pulled out from under me when you and the fellow FBI boys pulled rank," he grumbled in his defense. Besides, Carter was a friend and while she would never admit to it she was upset that she wouldn't be able to get justice for Paul. He might have been a human piece of garbage but Joss set that aside as always, and wanted justice. Lionel refocused on the man in front of him and then held out the manila folder he carried. "I think you need to take a look at this," he offered.
Donnelly took the folder and thumbed it open. His dark eyes narrowed as his brows pinched into a tight V in consternation as he stared at the copied emails. Donnelly flipped through the pages and pages, faster and faster, and then looked up. "How the hell did you get this?" he demanded.
Fusco kept his face neutral. "I can't oust my C.I., if I do then they won't ever trust me in the future and I think you'd want to know if they ever can get their meaty claws on such sensitive information again. All you need to know is that my C.I. is blowing the whistle on Mark Snow because of what he's doing."
Donnelly flipped through the pages of emails with damning information on Mark Snow. "You know I've met Agent Mark Snow of the CIA a handful of times, Fusco, and he always rubbed me the wrong way. Now I know why; he's selling secrets to the Chinese for a hefty price tag," Donnelly said and then looked up as he flipped the folder closed. "The FBI and CIA stopped fraternizing when the CIA began using underhanded methods that weren't legal or ethical. I always had my doubts on the legitimacy of the CIA in the recent years and with this I'll make an example of Mark Snow, and then we can launch an investigation into the CIA and perhaps we'll be able to clean up that agency."
Fusco shrugged. "I'm just reporting back what my C.I. got me. I knew you'd do the right thing,"
Donnelly smiled a little. "I appreciate the trust, Lionel. And I believe that you always do the right thing yourself. Please, if you gain any more information from your informant that could help me I'd like to have it as soon as possible."
"That's fine. But if I'm doing you a favor I'd like one in return," Fusco admitted. Donnelly's eyes narrowed. "If you get a search warrant on Snow or an arrest warrant can you just give me a heads up. I'd like to know that I helped bring down someone that is a traitor to the United States."
"Sure," Donnelly agreed. With that Donnelly left and Fusco felt good that he had just helped Carter out with her little rat problem. Soon enough Mark Snow wasn't going to be a problem anymore and while he wouldn't be in prison for the murders of Elias, Marconi, and Paul; he'd have to pay the piper for being a treasonous bastard.
"Carter owes me a falafel!" he muttered to no one but himself as he exited the interrogation room and headed straight for his desk with a smirk.
Joss sat on the couch, alone and miserable. John left just a little under a week ago and she missed him. She wanted to call him but refused herself because she didn't want John to break his word and leave because he didn't trust her to be careful. She needed to be choosy when she called him or showed up at his place. Root hadn't said a peep about what was going on with Martine which meant she didn't know anything or couldn't find her.
It was only a day after John left her place after finding out about Snow hiring Martine that Joss noticed her home had been disturbed. She had purposely straightened up to know if anything was changed. So when she had gotten home from work and picking up her son from his grandma's she noticed the subtle changes. Martine probably tried to put everything back the way she found it. But she wasn't about to tell a soul for fear John would learn about it and push her further away. Martine wouldn't be back and even if she did dare to break in when she was home than she'd shoot her ass! No one threatened her or her family.
Fusco had given Donnelly the information she got from Root on Snow though Fusco hadn't heard a word about a warrant for his work computers. No doubt, Donnelly was looking over the information he was given with a fine tooth comb and putting men out in the field to gather more intel on Snow before making their move. It wouldn't surprise her if they didn't make their move in months to come. Donnelly was, if nothing else, methodical and wanted everything by the book. Joss understood since she wanted Snow to pay for his crimes and not get out of things on some technicality.
But her more pressing issue was how the hell was she going to sleep at night? The days she filled them spending time with her little man who she loved and adored. But it had been awful these last several nights without John's strong arms to hold her; in the short time they spent sleeping together she already gotten used to them around her, and feeling his hard male body pressed up against her much softer one. Gotten used to the way his breath fanned over her ear and hair. The way his arm felt under her breasts holding her tightly. She pouted as she got up. Just thinking about how lonely and cold her bed was going to be again tonight without him in it made her want to go crawl off into her kitchen and eat herself out of ice cream. Especially since she had gone to her gynecologist, putting herself back on birth control pills so they wouldn't have to use condoms when he got back.
Turning to head for her phone, she decided to be productive instead of moping, and searched for Harold's number. Harold was John's longest friend that she knew of and deserved to be kept in the loop. He only knew of Root searching into Mark Snow and knowing John he didn't fill him in with this newest hiccup. Flopping onto her couch with the phone pressed to her ear she laid there waiting for the phone to be answered.
A hesitant 'hello' was all she was given.
"Hi Harold, its Joss," she greeted in return.
"Hello Joss, are you having a wonderful evening?" Harold asked sounding relaxed now.
"I've had better," she admitted as she leaned her head against the couch cushion. "John left."
"Give him time, Joss. Pushing people away is all that John knows. I knew the moment I met you when he brought you to us to help when you were very pregnant that you were something special."
Joss smiled. "That's not it. John agreed to live in the moment with me as we take small steps in our relationship together." she assured.
"Oh. What happened then?" Harold asked, though pleased that John was open to having a real relationship. It would be the first one in years.
She sighed, there was no easy way to put this. "Mark Snow happened. As you know I hired a P.I. to find a way to dig up dirt on Mark Snow."
"Yes, John asked me to look into her."
Joss frowned at his vague response but it didn't really matter at the moment. "Yea well Root followed him to a meeting where he hired an assassin to kill John."
"Oh dear god, do you have a name?" Harold asked panicked.
"Other than Martine, no, it's all Snow called her by. But I told John about the information I found out and he left."
Harold was quiet for several moments. "I'll try to find out more on my end about this mysterious Martine."
"Thanks," she said sincerely. "But just don't do anything that draws attention to you because we don't want people knowing that you aren't dead as you were thought to be." Harold silence was deafening. She smiled a little. "That's why you didn't hack into Snow's work computers after John bailed on me when Taylor was born, right?"
"I can go to Times Square or any number of popular New York sites that could offer me some cyber anonymity but, yes, I was hesitant to interfere because I know the lengths John had gone to protect me. And I don't want to risk Grace," he answered though there was a hint of guilt in his friendly voice.
"And that's why I turned to Root to help me. I won't place you or Grace at risk any more than John is willing too. So be careful, I'll text you a photo of Martine but other than that I have nothing else to help you." Joss murmured.
"It's not a lot but it's what we have to work with and I'm sure it will be enough," Harold tried to put a positive spin but she knew he was worried about the lack of information they had on Martine. So was she.
After a couple more minutes she hung up with Harold and then texted him the photo of Martine that she had from Root. Hopefully someone would have something soon because she missed John more than she was willing to admit. Joss climbed to her feet and went upstairs and took a detour into her son's room to fuss over him before heading for her room for another lonely cold night alone.
Zoe exited the apartment building as the doorman held the door for her. She smiled at him appreciatively and sauntered over to her waiting car. Zoe was instantly on alert as she frowned as she approached her car when Bill didn't immediately climb out and open the door for her. It was old fashioned but she liked the curtesy and he always did it. Change made her suspicious.
The back door opened and Zoe froze as she was held at gunpoint. The blond stuck her head out and smiled invitingly. "Come on in Miss Morgan, it's cooler in here," she offered with a pleasantness that didn't reach her eyes.
Zoe felt the stirring of panic but kept it firmly from reaching her face. She approached the car as though nothing was out of the ordinary knowing she'd be killed if she called for help. Zoe climbed into her car and closed the door. She didn't see her driver. "Where's Bill?" Zoe asked.
"He's in the trunk."
"Unharmed?"
The blond smiled and nodded. "Yes. He's not who I'm after. I don't go around killing people for fun, Miss Morgan," the woman assured, though Zoe wasn't sure to believe her or not.
"Just me, I hold a lot of secrets." Zoe commented trying to think of anyone who might try to kill her to cover up their tracks. Most of her clients knew she'd keep quiet and wouldn't reveal anything.
"No, I'm not after you. You're more a means to an end but move out of this car or attempt to call for help in any way and I will put a bullet between your eyes. So sit tight and let me drive us someplace that's a little quieter so we can talk." the blond spoke coldly. Zoe did as she was told as the woman climbed out of the car with the gun unseen by any passersby and climbed into the driver's seat. They pulled away from the curb and Zoe wisely remained silent as her captor drove them to god knows where. The blond stopped them in an alleyway, cutting the engine, and turned around to point the gun at her once more. "I'm looking for this man." the blond spoke again as she held out a photograph with her free hand. Zoe camouflaged her reaction when she saw John.
"And why do you believe I would know him?" she questioned.
The blond smiled. "It took some deduction. I've been watching the detective that Mark turned me onto as his only lead into John's whereabouts but it's clear that she holds no interest to this man other than she was just someone he helped. Mark did say that John was quick to get in and get out, and not make many attachments. But that got me to thinking, Miss Morgan, how did a man who has a death certificate learn about Carl Elias to help that detective in the first place? And who has their finger on the pulse of New York?—you do. Everyone that is someone knows that, myself included," she reasoned, almost smugly.
Zoe forced a sultry smile. "I'm glad my reputation precedes me," she purred, hoping she sounded confident.
"Yes, so that makes you very important to me. John needs to die for me to collect my payday but to do that I have to find him first, which brings me here. John is a former CIA agent and we both know they're all about collecting informants that can bring them information. And as we already ascertained that you have information on all the important players in New York, so it stands to reason that John knows you too." the woman stated. Zoe gave a curt nod not seeing any other option at the moment that didn't end with her dead. "I knew it. No one can stay hidden from me forever not even pathetic former CIA agents. I assume you have a way to contact him?"
"I do," Zoe answered, feeling guilty.
The blond grinned though it made Zoe shiver even with the car slowly warming up since she turned off the car so the A/C wasn't going still. Tonight was muggy and still warm outside. "Good, call him and have him meet us at 155th West Street between Fredrick Douglas and Harlem River at the underpass. Lie to him, figure out a way for him to come meet you there because your very life depends on it, Miss Morgan," she said as she pulled back the hammer of the gun.
Zoe swallowed hard as she pulled out her cell phone and quietly looked for John's number in her list of contacts. She never programed his name into her phone because she knew he wanted anonymity. Once she found his number without hesitation she clicked it, put her phone to her ear, and waited as it rang.
"So who is looking after you these days?" Joan asked as they stood in the encampment where John used to stay, and her cart full of bags not far from her.
John had decided to go speak with the woman that meant so much to him and had taken her under his wing when he needed it most. He brought her a vanilla ice cream cone while he ate a chocolate one. One day while she had tried to get him to talk to her she had admitted to loving vanilla ice cream cones.
"Someone new," he answered vaguely.
"Who is she?"
John looked at her startled. Then a little smile flickered on his lips. "Her name is Joss," he answered truthfully. "Impressive lady, honest to a fault, and I'm not entirely sure what she sees in me."
Joan chuckled. "An impressive man, loyal to a fault, and she probably doesn't know what you see in her,"she turned what he said back on him. John rolled his eyes as he bit into the cone as he worked his way down. "Men like you are hard to find, John."
"Women like her are even harder to find."
Joan sighed exaggeratedly. "You, my boy, are exasperating, so we'll agree to disagree," she murmured which he smiled at. They talked amicably about people he knew that were still in the encampment with her. When he tried to give her some money to get a hotel to sleep in a nice bed, with air conditioning, and a hot shower she declined. Harold every month put a ton of money in an account under his assumed name even though he asked the man to stop. At least now he had someone he could help with it.
"Please, you took care of me when I needed it. Let me pay you back," John whispered as he turned to push the money into her hands and she shook her head.
"I didn't help you back then to be repaid, John. I helped you because you needed it," Joan countered. "Now put that money away...it's insulting." John put the money back in his pocket. He'd find some other way to repay her if she didn't want to accept money. Just what? His burner phone began ringing. Joan grinned as he pulled it out. "Is it the misses?" she teased.
"No, it's a…friend." he said distractedly when he saw Zoe's number. He looked at Joan. "I'll be seeing you. I need to take this."
"Head home safe. And tell your lady love she's a real lucky one," Joan called out.
John wasn't going to do any such thing. But he smiled and waved a little at her and walked away as he answered it. "Zoe, what's up?" he asked. He hadn't talked to her since he called her wanting her to dig up dirt on Root. He wanted to oust the fact that Joss told him the truth but he wanted to see what Zoe was up to first.
"I have information on Root that you wanted." Zoe said. John smirked; cared about him, his ass. He was right and Zoe had only met with Joss for her own gain. Zoe was playing them both. But it was fine since he wanted to see what kind of information Zoe had on Root. Harold had found out a lot though he hadn't filled Joss in on any of it yet. He hadn't had the chance to. "I'll text you the address. I'm near a client's place, and I would meet you back at my place but I have another client I need to see afterwards. You know how everyone is, John, everyone has a crisis they need to avert."
To Zoe the night was always young. "Alright, text me where you want to meet and I'll be there," he agreed, not having anything better to do other than think about Joss and Taylor.
"See you soon…."
John hung up the phone and headed out of the encampment as the text came in. He read it and was relieved it wasn't too far away. John scanned his surroundings and didn't see anyone, before he joined the mix of men and women as they walked and headed to the address in the text.
AN: Zoe was kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Thanks for reading!