Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order: SVU. It belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf. No profit is being made from this story.
Author's Note: I'm so sorry about the delay….for some reason, this chapter took forever. Elliot wasn't very cooperative….I think I rewrote this thing five times. Ugh…be patient, please. There is so much up my sleeve for this story…you haven't seen anything yet!
Elliot felt his heart hammering against his ribcage as he zoomed down the highway. He had spent almost a quarter of his career at the 3-5 precinct in Queens, and had many friends there.
"How bad is it?" he asked Olivia, zooming off of the same exit that he took home every night.
"Cap didn't say," she answered. "He had just heard about it on the police scan-"
"Holy shit," Elliot breathed, cutting her off. He sat up straighter and leaned forward to peer out the windshield, a horrified expression on his face. She followed his gaze and felt her breath catch.
Flames were leaping off of the top of the building, dancing and licking the wind. The entire top floor was engulfed and fire shot out of the windows.
Tires squealed as the two sedans screeched to a stop. The four detectives hopped out and stood next to the curb, careful not to get close to the building. The wail of sirens was in the distance.
Hearing about the fires was one thing, but seeing it in action was entirely another.
Olivia felt her gut twisting as she watched the flames engulf each floor of the building and continue downward in a ruthless rampage.
Munch felt sick. Dear Lord…don't let there be anybody inside. There was no way for anyone to get in that building, and no chance of anyone getting out.
Fin's eyes were stinging from the fumes of the thick black smoke that swirled in the air, and he rubbed them quickly. Where the hell are the fire trucks?
Elliot was standing still, wide-eyed. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the swirl of orange licking the air. His entire body was screaming at him to do something to help, but he was frozen.
"Elliot!"
Hearing his name, he whipped around fast. An older man came dashing across the street, and Elliot sighed with relief as he recognized his former captain.
"Tom!" he cried frantically, rushing over to him. "Are you alright? Did everyone get out?"
"Yes," the man said breathlessly. "I just did a final head count. Everyone's alright."
"Thank God," Elliot breathed. The man moved up to stand with the four detectives as they all watched the building in silence.
Two hours later, the four walked back into the 1-6. Hearing them at their desks, Cragen came out of his office.
"Was there anyone hurt?" he asked in concern.
Olivia shook her head wearily. "Everyone made it out before the place went up," she said. "The building's toast. No way is it going to be salvageable."
"Well, the important thing is that everyone is alright," Cragen said, seeing the somber looks on their faces. "That's all that matters."
No one responded.
The captain sighed. "Alright," he said finally. "Not to sound unsympathetic, but we've still got a job to do. So let's concentrate on what we have. What's the news on this morning's victim?"
He waited for the blank expressions to clear, knowing that the four of them were still in a bit of a daze. Munch snapped out of it first, coming back to focus.
"Warner said the body was found this morning in the East River," he said. "There were signs of tire tracks and scuff marks on the river bank…she thinks someone killed and then dumped her."
Elliot shook his head. "She had the same marks on her neck as the last one," he said gruffly. "Looks like she was choked."
The door opened and Sean came in. "Hey," he greeted. "I heard about the fire…is everyone alright?"
"Everyone is fine," Don assured.
"Good," he said with conviction. "Listen, I just spoke with Chief Pyatt in Staten Island…he really needs us to get down there as soon as possible." He looked at his brother expectantly.
Elliot had forgotten about that after all that had happened that morning. He was about to protest when he caught the sharp look that Cragen sent him, and sighed instead. He really didn't have the energy to argue right now.
"The rest of you," Cragen directed to the others. "start working on finding out the identity of our latest victim."
"Let's go," Sean said abruptly. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we get back." He walked out the door.
Olivia exchanged a glance with her partner before heading off to the file cabinet. He just shook his head in disgust and followed after his brother.
Silence blanketed the inside of Sean's blue Toyota Tundra. Elliot kept his gaze out the window and Sean kept his at the road in front of him. Neither said a word.
"What's your problem?"
Elliot jumped when his brother spoke and broke the silence. He turned his head slightly. "I'm not the one with the problem," he muttered, keeping his gaze on the window.
"Unbelievable," Sean said in amazement. Elliot didn't acknowledge him. He shook his head. "You're still bitching about what happened with the department, aren't you?"
That triggered a reaction. Elliot swung his head around, his eyes glittering dangerously.
Sean let out a dry laugh. "Jesus, Elliot," he said snidely. "It was four fucking years ago…get the hell over it."
Elliot was clenching his teeth so hard that he was surprised they didn't crack. "You son of a-" he growled. He cut himself off before he could complete the sentence, but Sean caught it anyway. He smirked.
"Hey, genius….you're my brother," he said. "If I'm a son of a bitch, so are you."
"You lied, Sean!" Elliot cried, ignoring him. "I put my ass on the line for you and you lied straight to my face…you almost got me fired! How the hell could you do that?"
"Survival of the fittest, little brother," Sean said curtly. "Obviously, you're not as good a cop as you like to think you are."
Elliot turned angrily back toward the window and didn't say another word.
Melinda was finishing the embalming of the body when Olivia and Munch came into the lab.
"Be with you in one second, guys," she said, keeping her attention on her task.
"Take your time," Olivia said, teasingly. "We're just here to enjoy the refrigerator." She walked over to stand next to the huge air-conditioning vent that was busily blasting out cold air and turned so that it would hit the back of her neck. She sighed in relief.
Warner smirked. The morgue was required by law to be thirty degrees below room temperature so that the bodies could stay preserved. It sucked in the winter time…but it was a real perk on days like today.
Munch picked up the cadaver lying on the small table next to the slab she was working on. He eyed the pointed end and turned a suspicious stare on Melinda. "Is that a body or a voodoo doll?" he asked.
She finished sealing the filmy coating on the corpse and turned around, snapping her gloves off. "Why?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Are you scared?"
"Ha, ha," he said wryly.
She smirked again as she snatched the tool from his hand and carried it over to the sterilizing basin.
"You didn't happen to find a driver's license on her, did you?" Olivia asked wryly.
"If it was only that easy, right?" Melinda cracked.
Olivia grinned and shrugged. "I can dream," she said.
"No," Warner said, turning toward her. "But I can tell you that this was definitely the work of the same guy." She walked back over to the slab.
That perked John's interest. "How do you know that?" he questioned.
"I found the same lighter fluid on her," she said. "From a blow torch. Only… not on her hands."
Munch looked at her, looking suddenly nervous. "It wasn't…." He trailed off, looking disgusted.
Melinda suddenly remembered that the girl had been a prostitute, and was quick to fill in the gaps of what he was thinking.
"No," she said quickly. "Nothing there, thank God. It was on her lips."
Olivia's eyebrows shot up as she walked over to where the two of them were standing. "On her lips?" She shot a shocked look at the medical examiner.
Melinda floated a hand over the mouth of the corpse, being careful not to touch it. "It's all over them," she said. "Here, see for yourself."
Reaching behind her, she flipped a light switch and plunged the room into darkness. Coming around John, she fumbled under the slab and pushed the button for the florescent lights. Blue light lit up the area around the metal table, making the detectives blink.
When she was able to focus, Olivia saw the stains right away. They stood out starkly, thanks to the embalming fluids. Warner hadn't been exaggerating- the entire mouth was covered.
Melinda reached over to turn the lights back on. She looked seriously at the two as they blinked again. Munch suddenly noticed that she was looking at them hesitantly, as if debating whether or not to say anything.
"What?" he asked.
She sighed in trepidation. "The pattern of the fluid is irregular," she said grimly. "I went further to see if I had missed anything…" She trailed off, shaking her head.
"What is it?" Olivia asked.
"Warner was silent for a minute before finally answering. "It's all over the inside of her mouth," she said gravely. "Back of her throat, too."
She looked grimly at them as they connected the dots.
"My God," Olivia said, horrified. She stared at the body, feeling nauseous. "He put the blow torch in her mouth."
Sean pulled into the parking lot of the Federal Department of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms an hour later. Elliot had barely taken off his seat belt before his brother was striding toward the entrance. He had to run to keep up, but slowed once he was about three steps behind him so that they wouldn't be walking beside each other.
"Agent Stabler."
He was surprised to hear someone call Sean's name as they stepped inside. Looking to the left, Elliot saw a man in a dark blue suit walking toward them, obviously waiting for them.
"I'm Agent Sam Kinnick," he said, holding out his hand. "New York Bureau."
Sean gave it a quick pump. "Sean Stabler," he replied. "New Jersey."
Nodding, Kinnick looked curiously at Elliot. Sean jerked a head in his direction. "My brother, Elliot," he said curtly. He didn't elaborate further.
Shooting him a disgusted glare, Elliot stepped around him and offered his hand to the agent. "Elliot Stabler," he offered. "I'm a detective with the Special Victims Unit in Manhattan."
"Sam Kinnick," he said again, shaking his hand.
"Good to meet you," Elliot said, winking pleasantly.
"Special Victims, huh?" Kinnick said, withdrawing his hand. He looked at him admirably. "That's some tough shit, isn't it?"
"It can be," he agreed, nodding. "It's never dull, that's for sure."
Kinnick smiled. "I'll bet."
Already liking the man, Elliot began to say something else, but Sean broke in before he could.
"Let's get down to business, shall we?"
The other agent blinked in surprise, his gaze faltering from Elliot to Sean. "Of course," he said, after a minute. He glanced at them both in turn quickly and gestured. "Follow me."
Sean began walking briskly in the direction he had pointed, leaving the agent and Elliot a step behind.
Kinnick looked to Elliot in question. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes in disgust. They headed that way as well.
"Well, we've got some interesting news," Munch announced, walking into the squad room behind Olivia.
Fin stood up from his desk. "Me, too," he said.
"You go first," Olivia said, cutting Munch's scoff of protest.
"I talked to the fire chief from this morning," he said. "They were wrong when they said everyone got out alive."
She looked at him in alarm. "Who didn't?" Munch looked interested now as well.
"Two janitors were found in a fourth floor maintenance closet," he said grimly. "Chicken wire was wrapped on the outside door handles."
She cringed. "That's horrible," she said softly. Munch nodded in somber agreement.
A minute of silence fell. "So what did you find?" Fin asked finally.
When Olivia didn't reply, John stepped in. "Warner found the same type of lighter fluid on our vic from this morning," he said. "Blow torch….it was in her mouth."
His partner pulled a horrified face. "Jesus," he murmured. "What a psycho."
Cragen had been listening quietly, and announced his presence then. "I just got off the phone with Elliot," he said. "They're wrapping up down there now." He looked at the three of them somberly. "There's nothing else we can do now. Go home…we'll regroup tomorrow."
The mood had darkened considerably for the trio, and they just nodded wearily.
The night was cool and clear, a refreshing change from the sticky heat of the afternoon. Elliot rolled the passenger window down as the Tundra hit the interstate back towards Manhattan and sighed blissfully at the rush of cold wind that hit his face.
After thirty minutes, Elliot was about to scream. The silence was driving him crazy. He turned toward Sean and ventured at conversation. "So, what did you think about their plan?" he asked, referring to the plans that the ATF had debriefed them on during the three-hour long meeting. "I'm impressed."
There was no response from Sean, not even a grunt.
Elliot rolled his eyes. "What…you're not going to talk to me now?"
Sean's only reply was to reach over and turn the radio on. He cranked up the volume, making his intentions clear to Elliot.
He scoffed. "Fine," he said. "Screw you." He turned and sighed, resigning to staring at the passing woods.
A vibrating in his pocket startled him. He reached down and pulled out his cell phone, checking the caller ID.
"Hey, Liv," he greeted. He reached over and turned down the radio.
"Hey," she said. "How-?"
Her next words were suddenly drowned out by the radio again. Shooting an angry glance at his brother, Elliot adjusted the volume again. Sean immediately turned it back.
"Hang on, Liv," he said quickly, pulling the phone away from his ear. He whipped his head toward Sean. "I can't hear, asshole."
"Cry about it," Sean cracked, and began beating the steering wheel in time to the music.
Elliot rolled up his window and turned the volume on his phone up. "Hey, sorry," he said into the phone.
"How was the meeting?" Olivia asked.
"Interesting," her partner replied. "They've got a hell of a task force in that place...the plans they gave us seem foolproof."
"Sweet," she said. "So, where are you?"
He glanced at the road sign as they flew past it. "About an hour from Long Island," he said. "I'd say about two hours before we get to the station."
"Don't bother," she said. "Cap sent us home for the night…said to rest up and start fresh tomorrow."
"I hear that," Elliot said wryly. His stomach growled suddenly, and he noted the time. 9:30. "Hey, have you eaten yet? I'm starving."
"Ooh….yeah," Olivia said regretfully. "Sorry…I grabbed some Chinese on my way home." She heard him sigh in obvious unhappiness. "But…hey, I've got plenty here. You're welcome to come by."
"Nah, that's ok," he declined, trying to hide his disappointment. "It'll be almost midnight before I get my car…I'll just see you in the morning. Thanks anyway."
She felt a wave of sympathy at how pathetic he sounded. "Tell you what," she said. "I'll bring the rest in tomorrow and we'll do lunch."
"Hey, cool!" he said enthusiastically. "Sounds good."
She smiled at the instant happiness she heard in his voice. "It's a plan, then," she said.
"It's a plan," he echoed, smiling. He paused and continued in a mock threatening tone, "You better have duck sauce."
"I do," she said. "Well…" She trailed off, her tone teasing. "At least, I did."
She laughed at his angry scoff.
"Oh, it's on now," he said, continuing to play along. "You don't mess with my duck sauce, woman."
"Oh, please," she said, laughing. "Bring it…I'll whip you're butt from here to Christmas."
"We'll see," Elliot chuckled. He shook his head. "Goodnight, Liv."
"Night," she said. "Sweet dreams."
She shook her head, laughing, and hung up.
Olivia walked into the squad room and was surprised to find that it was dark.
"Hello?" she called in confusion. "Guys?"
Scrunching her brow, she reached along the wall until her hand hit the light switch. Nothing happened, despite flipping it a few times.
"Guys?" she said again, her tone guarded. She drew her gun on instinct and looked around warily as she slowly came into the room.
A bone-chilling scream suddenly erupted behind her, making her jump. Whipping around, she aimed her gun.
"Who's there?" she said, asserting authority in her voice. "Come out, now!"
"Olivia!"
She recognized her partner's voice. "Elliot?" she asked in surprise. She looked around. "Where are you?"
He began screaming wildly, and she turned in circles desperately, trying to locate him in the darkness. "Elliot, where are you?" she cried frantically. "Where are you? Where are you?"
"Help me!" he begged hysterically. "God, Olivia…PLEASE help me!"
There was a sudden whoosh, and suddenly the room lit up. Olivia had to cover her eyes against the harsh light. Peeking out from under one arm, she suddenly saw a figure on the ground. It was Elliot.
Her eyes widened when she saw the figure standing over him with a blow torch. She screamed when the fire began shooting out over her partner.
Elliot was on his knees and attempting to crawl away from the flames as they engulfed his entire lower body.
"Olivia!" he shrieked. The terror in his voice made her skin crawl. "OLIVIA!"
"ELLIOT!"
Screaming, Olivia bolted upright. Looking around in a panic, she recognized the surroundings of her bedroom. Her chest heaved, and she began to sob while looking blearily at the bedside alarm clock. It was 3:30 in the morning.