Chapter 12:  The Meeting

(Friday, 25 July, 2003.  1000 hours.)

Steve walked into the meeting room and sat on the side of the table away from the door.  Gritting his teeth to avoid a smart remark, he raised his arms so Jesse could strap him in the chair.  He understood that it was being done for the Chief's safety as well as his own, but still, something deep inside him balked at the idea of being tied like an animal.

Once Steve was properly restrained, Jesse sat beside him.  "How are you feeling, buddy?"

"I'm fine, Jess.  Is the Chief here yet?"

"Yeah, he's just down the hall."  The silence grew for a while then Jesse said, "So, you're ok with this, huh?"

"I told you, Jess, I'm fine.  Just send the Chief in so I can get this over with and get on with my life, ok?"

Jesse frowned.  "You're sure you're not holding back on me?"

Steve sighed.  "Ok, ok, I am a little nervous."

"About what, Steve?"

"Well, Jess, let's see, I believe I tried to kill the man," Steve said sarcastically.  "Yes, I distinctly recall shooting at him, four times if I'm not mistaken." 

Steve could see the irritation spark in his friend's eyes, and he immediately felt sorry.  He knew people were taking great pains to help him, and he was being uncooperative.  It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the concern, but he was just so damned tired of feeling weak and needy.

"Look, Jess, I'm sorry.  I am nervous.  I'm worried about my future, whether I'll even have a future after this.  Did you see the Chief?  Did he seem angry?"

Smiling, Jesse put a hand on his arm.  "Steve, Chief Masters is the one who hooked us up with Dr. Lewis in the first place.  If it weren't for him, you'd probably still be in a padded room at Community General.  He didn't seem angry at all to me.  In fact, he seemed very concerned about you."

"Really?"  Steve had to admit, that didn't sound much like the Chief he knew.  As far as he could ever tell, the only time the man took an interest in his officers' well being was when something that happened to them reflected on him or affected an investigation.

"Yes, really.  In fact, just between you and me, I think he likes you more than he lets on.  Now, do you think you're ready to see him?"

Steve pressed his lips into a hard, straight line.  After a slight hesitation, he nodded.  Jesse gave him a pat on the shoulder and went to the door.  Chief Masters came in, took one look at Steve, and frowned.

"Excuse me a moment, Lieutenant," he said, and stepped back out in the hall.

Steve felt his stomach tie itself in a knot.  He gave Jesse a questioning look, but his young friend just shrugged and looked confused.  Wondering if the Chief wanted to see him bound hand and foot in addition to the chest and leg straps, he strained to hear the conversation that was being conducted in the hall. 

"Pardon me, Dr. Lewis," Steve heard through the half-open door, "why is Lieutenant Sloan in restraints?"

Steve slowly released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and waited for his heart rate to return to normal.

"That's for your protection, Chief, in case there has been some secondary agenda we have missed," Steve heard Kat say.

"Dr. Lewis," Steve heard the icy tone that struck fear in the hearts of many a cop, "Lieutenant Sloan is no more a threat to me than you are.  Remove the restraints."

"He did try to kill you recently, Chief," Kat reminded him, and Steve had to admire her pluck.

"Those were extraordinary circumstances."

"That's true," she agreed, "but until we are sure just what the circumstances are now, he needs to be restrained, for your safety."

"I see.  Come with me, doctor."

Chief Masters came into the room again with Kat in tow.  She looked at Jesse, somewhat bemused, and they shrugged at each other, but she was willing to go along for the time being.  Without warning, the Chief bent over, pulled a .38 from his ankle holster, and placed it on the table in front of Steve. 

"Pick it up, Lieutenant."

Kat watched tensely as Steve stared at the gun, and he saw her edge toward the door when he followed the Chief's order and closed his hand around the grip with his finger on trigger.  Then Masters turned his back, and put his hands on his head.

"If you're gonna do it, do it now, Sloan.  You'll never get a better chance."

"Are you nuts?" Steve shouted, and he put the gun back on the table and pushed it out of his reach.  He glared at Jess when his friend failed to stifle a guffaw.

For a moment, Chief Masters' backbone stiffened, and then he relaxed, turned, sent a cool, narrow-eyed gaze from Steve to the gun and back, turned the same look on Dr. Lewis, and said, "I believe we have just demonstrated that he is no longer a threat to me.  Remove his restraints, now."

As Kat breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly complied with the request, the Chief replaced the gun in its holster and sat down.  The table was no bigger than a card table, but rather than sitting opposite Steve, he sat at one of the adjoining sides.

"How have you been, Lieutenant?"  As he spoke, Kat and Jesse left the room, closing the door behind them.

Steve shrugged, doubting if the Chief was really interested.  "Some days are better than others, Sir," he said.

Chief Masters sighed, folded his arms on the table, and said, "That wasn't just polite small talk, Steve.  I really would like to know, if you are willing to tell me."

Steve frowned, nodded, and said, "There were some really bad days, Sir, especially at the beginning, a couple of times, it didn't look like I'd make it, but I had my dad and my friends here, and I got lucky, I guess."

The Chief nodded.  "Yes, Dr. Travis told me you had rather bad reactions to the medication a couple of times."  There was a brief pause, and then, "Well, I imagine you have some questions for me."

"Yes, Sir, I do."

The Chief waited a moment, but when Steve seemed hesitant to begin he said, "Look, Steve, what happened wasn't your fault . . . "

"I tried to kill you, Sir!"

Masters shook his head.  "No, Steve.  Alejo Mateo tried to kill me.  He just used you."

"Who is Alejo Mateo?"  Steve asked, confused.

"Alejo Mateo is a mercenary, a former Army Ranger," the Chief said.  "We've . . . been acquainted with one another for over forty years.  Ross Cainin wanted someone to take me out, and Mateo was happy to take the job.  It seems Cainin's another individual who doesn't like me much anymore."

"Cainin?"  Steve was growing more confused by the minute.  Ross Cainin was supposed to be the Chief's inside man with the Ganza crime family.

"Yes.  Cainin has decided it would be more profitable for him to go independent," Master's explained.  "You were right.  Putting him in charge of the Ganza family was a bad idea.  Mateo's daughter, Elena, infiltrated the LAPD as a civilian assistant."  The Chief stopped his explanation there and waited to see if Steve would make the connection.  Usually, Sloan was a quick thinker, but with all the drugs that had undoubtedly been pumped through his system, he might be a little slow on the uptake.

The room was silent for a little while, then Steve said softly, "Elaine Matthews."

The Chief nodded, pleased to see his officer was still mentally sharp, but saddened to see how disappointed he was.  "I'm sorry, Steve."

This conversation was beginning to get surreal.  In the past two minutes, Masters had expressed a genuine concern for his well being, confessed to a mistake, admitted Steve had been right when he had been wrong, and said he was sorry.  Maybe the drugs were still affecting him more than any of them expected.  Anxious to get the discussion back to more solid footing, Steve decided to let the revelation about Elaine go for now.

"Why me?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why did they use me to get to you?"

"Are you sure you want the answer to that?"  The Chief knew how personally Sloan tended to take bad things that were often beyond his control.  There was no way he could hear the truth without feeling somewhat responsible.  Still, if the man wanted the truth, Masters wouldn't lie to him.

"Yes.  I need to know."

Chief Masters nodded again.  "You had access to me, and . . . you made no secret of your . . . dislike for me."  Before Steve could start feeling guilty for that, he added, "I don't blame you, you know.  I can be a real bastard sometimes, but in a job like mine, you don't expect to have many friends."

Steve bristled at the implication.  "I have always treated you with respect, Sir."

"Oh, I know that, Lieutenant," the Chief said cooly.  "I wouldn't have tolerated anything less, but the fact that you dislike me made you an easy target for Mateo.  It made convincing you that I was a threat to your loved ones easier, and if his plan had succeeded, it would have been easier to dismiss your killing me as some sort of grudge for your own shooting and your father's murder conviction."

While Steve digested the information, the Chief told him,  "I have to say, the fact that I was your intended target aside, I am still very glad Mateo's plan failed.  Detective Banks is quite eager to have her partner back.  It seems she and Detective Archer don't get along terribly well."

Steve looked up in shock.  "Do I still have a job to go back to?"

The Chief appraised him with that cool, narrow-eyed look that always made him feel like a bug under a microscope.  "Yes, I think you do," he nodded.  "You'll have to requalify to carry a weapon and for pursuit driving, and I can't make any promises as to how soon you will be back on the streets, but when you convince your doctors that you are fit for duty, there is still a place for you with the LAPD."

Steve felt his heart doing somersaults.  "Thank you, Sir, thank you."

Masters remained very cool.  "Don't thank me, Lieutenant.  You're an asset to the force, and it would be foolish of me to let you go."  The Chief stood to leave, and out of habit, Steve rose as well as a show of respect.  "If there's anything else I can do to help you get back to work, just let me know, Steve."

"Actually, Sir, there is one thing."

Chief Masters raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"I want to talk to them, to Elaine and Mateo.  I need to see them."

Masters looked thoughtful.  "I'll see what I can do, provided your doctors approve." 

"With all due respect," Steve said, "I know what I need to get over what has happened to me, Sir, and one thing I need is to confront them."

"Like I said, Lieutenant," Masters said calmly, "I will see what I can do, provided your doctors approve."

Steve nodded, reluctant to accept anything less than a promise that he would see them.

"Well, then," the Chief said, "I guess I will see you later."

"Yes, Sir.  Good day, Sir."

The Chief paused in the doorway, and without turning round, he said, "For what it's worth, Steve, I really am sorry about what has happened to you."

Steve couldn't help but feel shocked.  Twice in one conversation, he had heard the Chief utter the words 'I'm sorry.'  Just before the door closed, he managed to get out the words, "Apology accepted, Sir."