CTT
Headquarters: Security Shack
14
hours missing
Martin sat impatiently drumming his fingers on the hard plastic chair next to him. The contrast between the room he was in and the lobby was astounding. This was definitely not the area the public were meant to see. The paintwork looked years old, it was peeling and faded to such an extent it was impossible to work out what the original colour had been. The room itself was lit by a single bulb dangling from the ceiling. Every so often, when somebody moved about upstairs, the light began to swing in an unnerving fashion, casting flickering shadows around the room. The seat Martin was in was the only chair that wasn't broken in some way. But it more than made up for that fact by being exceedingly uncomfortable. Whether this was to discourage people from waiting or the fact that people didn't normally have to wait Martin wasn't sure. Irritably he checked his watch for what felt like the twentieth time. He'd only been waiting for thirty minutes but it felt much longer. But then thirty minutes was a long time to wait when you were an FBI agent. If someone hadn't appeared that second, Martin had been considering charging all concerned with impeding a federal investigation.
"Agent Fitzgerald, I'm Dave Hoskins, Chief of security. What can I do for you?" Dave smiled genially offering his hand. Seeing the balding middle-aged man in front of him, dressed in pseudo cop gear but acting like it was the real thing, Martin felt a hint of pity. Why did ex-cops always seem to end up with jobs like this, a pale imitation of their previous careers? Swallowing his annoyance, Martin shook Dave's hand, taking care not to show disgust at the cold clamminess of the grip.
"I'd like to see all your security tapes from yesterday, from all the cameras," Martin informed him succinctly.
"All of them!" Dave exclaimed, astonished. "You're going to be busy." Martin nodded following Dave through a dingy, narrow corridor to the security tape room. Much to his surprise Martin found himself looking at a very modern setup, while the decor could still do with some attention, the equipment was state of the art. Three large TFT monitors adorned the wall at the end, a large triangular desk wedged beneath them. A young man in his twenties, still with the scars of acne not long forgotten peppering his skin and dressed in the same uniform as Dave, albeit much smarter looking, sat in front of them staring intently. His hand occasionally moved on a roller-ball that was laying in an indent specially made for it in the desk. This movement, Martin noticed, changed the display, zooming in, changing angles or even cameras when appropriate.
"We had a spot of bother a few months back. That's when them upstairs decided to bring in Charlie and his baby," Dave explained. He'd noticed Martin's expression. It was the expression everybody got when they saw this room for the first time. Up till now everything had fit with their preconception of the place - dingy, aged rooms with old broken furniture and a balding, middle-aged ex-cop with a beer belly stretching his rent-a-cop uniform. The last thing they expected was state of the art technology. They probably expected state of the ark "Charlie, Agent Fitzgerald wants all of yesterday's footage," Dave told him. Charlie nodded and swiveled his chair round so he was parallel to the keyboard. He kept his arm over by the roller-ball until he'd completed the action. This configured one of the displays to a more recognisable windows setup. He then started tapping furiously at one of the three keyboards in front of him. A couple of minutes later he leant down and retrieved three DVD's.
"Double sided and dual layered," Charlie informed him, slipping the discs into wallets and handing them to Martin. He then swiveled his chair back round so that his attention was once again solely on the displays.
"Thanks," Martin said. He hadn't understood what Charlie had just told him but he'd pass it onto the tech experts the FBI kept for such occasions.
"Charlie doesn't talk much, except to his baby that is. Anything else I can do for you?" Dave asked. Martin, caught on the hop because of the speed of getting the footage, had to think for a moment.
"Do you have a way of checking who's in the building and who's not?" Dave nodded and leant forward tapping Charlie on the shoulder. A moment later, Martin was handed another disc.
"Logs of everybody who came and went yesterday," Dave explained "Anything else?" Unable to think of anything, Martin shook his head. The guard then politely gestured for him to leave.
"I may need to speak with you again," Martin added as Dave showed him out, anxious to cover himself in case he'd forgotten something obvious.
"Anytime, Agent Fitzgerald. Anytime."
CTT
Headquarters
15
hours missing
"Well thank you for your time," Sam finished, trying not to sound as discouraged as she felt. They'd only been interviewing for an hour but already she was getting frustrated.
"Who's next Danny?" she asked tiredly. Danny flashed her a quick smile of encouragement before looking back down at his list.
"Colin Masters. Viv says he's a good friend of Anthony's. Maybe he'll know something of use," Danny replied. At that moment there was an abrupt banging on the door, before Danny could yell come in, the knocker entered. Sam, who was studying her notes, could hear this and was about to remonstrate with the person when she felt a familiar sensation.
"How was Chicago?" Sam enquired, pointedly not looking up. Jack couldn't help but smile at that, she always had been able to tell it was him. He could neither explain, or comprehend, the happiness and relief that coursed through him, when he saw that she still had that skill. And not only did she still have the skill, she cared enough to let him know that. Danny looked from Jack to Sam and then back at Jack again. For a reason he didn't know, he felt that he was somehow intruding upon a private moment. Uncomfortably he cleared his throat.
"Chicago was expected," Jack replied, noticing Danny's unease and realising that he'd paused to long. He didn't want to make this a heavy emotional subject for round the office. It was already difficult enough as it was. Part of him wondered if that was him projecting his unease on the rest of the team. He wanted so much to be able to break down and confide in someone, Sam to be precise, all his hopes and fears and all his feelings and worries. The other, saner, part of him knew he couldn't and shouldn't do that. His problems were his alone, he'd chosen this path and rocky as it was now proving to be, he had to deal with it.
"Viv wants you upstairs to help her go over Anthony's office," he told Danny. The younger agent nodded. He'd long since ceased to wonder how Jack came by all the information that he did. Jack had only just arrived, after all, and already he knew more than he did. Shaking his head slightly he shot a questioning glance at Sam as he left. Sam ignored the glance, it held more questions than she cared to admit, let alone answer.
"Colin Masters is waiting outside," Jack said softly breaking into Sam's thoughts. Sam nodded, grateful for the interruption and distraction. Smiling slightly, Jack stepped back and opened the door, showing Colin Masters in. He too was grateful beyond belief for the distraction of the case. It seemed wrong to be relieved that someone had gone missing but relieved was the only way to describe the way he felt. The case offered his mind something else to mull over besides his impending divorce, Hanna's animosity and his own simmering feelings towards Sam.
"If you'll sit down just there Mr Masters," Jack gestured to the seat across from Sam pulling up a chair for himself and placing it next to hers.
"We've been led to believe that you and Mr Bates were good friends, is that so?" Sam began, staring intently at Colin Masters, a pen poised over her notebook.
"Yeah, Anthony and I go way back. We started here together seven years ago and been friends ever since," Colin told them looking directly at the two Federal agents, apparently entirely at ease. Jack frowned, he didn't doubt that what Colin Masters said was true, but something was off. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Did Mr Bates mention any problems he was having either at work or home?" Sam asked wondering slightly why Jack had decided to play the silent partner. That was normally a tactic he reserved for suspects.
"No." Colin Masters shook his head. "I mean Anthony had his share of problems, what with his mom and everything. But then I guess we all do."
"Would Anthony just up and leave," Jack butted in staring piercingly at him. Colin turned his head so he could look straight at the agent.
"No, he would have told me. I just don't understand
it," Colin replied. 'Aha' Jack thought. 'That was it.
That's what was bothering him. It was the level of sincerity that
laced every word Colin Masters spoke. It was like he was trying to
convince them of something. Why did he feel he needed to do that?
What did he have to hide? Something wasn't right here.'
"Did
you see Mr Bates yesterday?" Sam continued looking at Jack and
wondering what he was thinking.
"Yes on the floor. I didn't get much chance to speak to him though. We were very busy."
"No other time," Jack checked. He shook his head.
"Right. Well if you think of anything else don't hesitate to contact us." Masters stood up and firmly grasped the agent's hand.
"Will do," he promised, smiling sickeningly. Jack returned the expression somewhat sceptically as he showed him the door.
