Sarah vs Fulcrum

by Steelejay

This is the continuation story of Sarah vs. Asking Chuck Out. You should read that first. I marked that story complete because I felt like they'd made it through the first part of their journey. This will be a more plot driven story but still with the all the Charah you can handle. It's marked at T but be forewarned, it's a hard T, with an asterisk. Adult interactions do occur.

6. Chapter 6

A/N: While I have classified this story with a T rating overall, some chapters do have overt sexual content. Additionally this chapter contains Adult Themes relating to rape and prostitution.

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The meeting with the Deputy Chief of the LAPD was scheduled for one o'clock at an upscale seafood restaurant downtown, not far from LAPD headquarters or the federal building where Coburn's office was located. She and Coburn had agreed to meet at the bar about twenty minutes early to talk things over before the meeting. She was running just a couple of minutes ahead of schedule, but noticed that Coburn was already at a small table in the bar, nursing a beer when she walked in. She ignored the host and walked to Coburn's table.

Coburn cocked his head to the side and said, "Everything OK? You look a little tense around the edges."

Sarah shrugged as she sat down. "I'm not sure yet. I definitely have a wrinkle to iron out but it's too soon to tell if it's going to take regular iron or a fucking steamroller. I'm aggravated about it, no question, but we're still digging into it." She could tell Coburn had other questions when her phone rang, and she saw it was Chuck. It had only been about a half hour since she had tasked him with looking into the property owner, so she wasn't expecting a call this quickly. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"Hi Sweetie," she said.

"I've got some preliminary information for you," he said quickly.

"That was fast," she said relieved.

"Well, I know you don't just love me for my pretty face," he said with a chuckle. "Ok, the property owner is actually a woman. Her name is Rebecca Wright. Last name sound familiar?"

"Yeah, Andrew Wright was the City Inspector. Tell me they're related, and I've potentially got them on conspiracy to commit fraud right out of the gate." She knew it was a stretch as the words came out of her mouth and realized she was getting way ahead of herself.

"They're cousins. I don't have his call logs yet, but I hacked into the Middleton Property Management system and it's really just a management company for Rebecca Wright's properties. They don't manage any other properties that I've found so far. And from what I'm seeing, she's hurting. She owns a number of strip malls and apartment complexes that are all leveraged to the hilt or beyond with many of them being upside-down, and most of them have low occupancy rates. There appears to be a separate LLC for each property, and then another one for the management company, a maintenance company and a janitorial company. I'll send you a text with all the phone numbers I've captured so far, and names associated with them."

"So her cousin sees the request come in that the Feds want access to the bomb shelter under her property, see's that we're meeting with a contractor, puts two and two together and realizes that the only way we can get down there is through the strip mall. I fucking knew it was a shake down."

"What now?" Chuck asked.

"Keep digging. Get me everything you can in the next two hours. Build me a portfolio of her property holdings and get me those call logs. Also, get access to their email if you have time," she said. "And Chuck?"

"Yeah"

"This was great work. Thank you," she said sincerely.

"You're welcome, Sarah. But just so you know, this was easy. I'm still waiting for you to give me a challenge. I know this has you a little stressed out. Hopefully you can use the information to negotiate a deal."

"Thanks, Chuck. I'll call you after my lunch meeting. I love you."

"Love you, too!"

A few moments later, Sarah's phone dinged with the text from Chuck that had all the appropriate phone numbers. She saw that Rebecca Wright's cell phone was in the list. She looked up at Coburn and smiled. "Chuck came through in a pinch."

"A shake down, huh?"

"Yeah, the city planner that got us down into the bomb shelter is a cousin of the woman who owns the strip mall we need to use to get access. Yesterday I indicated that I was interested in buying the property and now not only is the property not for sale, the empty storefronts are off the market as well."

Coburn grunted. "Yeah, that's a wrinkle all right. But I don't see it as a conspiracy to commit fraud. They haven't actually asked for anything. And as the property owners, they can do what they want with it, as it pertains to keeping it empty or whatever. The thing with the cousin could be perceived as a conflict of interest with the city, but other than that, you're up against a bit of a wall. Legally speaking, I mean."

"Yeah, I know. That was mostly my frustration talking. Chuck says that they're in trouble financially. All the properties are heavily leveraged or worse, completely under water, and they have low occupancy rates on top of that. This could just be her seeing a potential lifeline, but it sounds like she needs millions, and I'm not an ATM."

"You got a plan?" He asked casually, taking a sip of the amber liquid in his glass.

"A month ago I would have dropped a nuke on her head and taken what I wanted when the dust settled," she said.

He grunted what sounded like approval. "And now?"

Sarah sighed. "Now I guess I'm thinking I should try to actually negotiate first, but not with my back against the wall. I'm willing to listen to reasonable requests but I need to let her know that I can use the nuclear option if she forces my hand."

"Well, it sounds like you've got a handle on it, but let me know if I can offer assistance. And our date just walked in," Coburn said as he stood up and acknowledged a grey haired black man in his fifties talking to the maître d. He was wearing a nicer suit than Coburn, and had a more refined look to him, but still had a military bearing in his posture. Sarah had done a little research on him and knew he had joined the LAPD 25 years earlier after a six year stint in the Air Force. He'd climbed the ladder steadily and made the number two spot just a couple of years earlier.

He saw Coburn coming and smiled. "Alex, how's the head ballsack for the LA FBI these days," he said with a laugh, extending his hand. Sarah noted that he had a deep melodious voice and thought he could make a killing in radio.

Coburn grunted. "You're really hanging in there with that joke, huh, Deputy Dog?" he laughed as well, shaking the other man's hand. "It's good to see you, Norm. How are Emily and Norm Jr. doing?"

"Great!" He said with a smile. "Junior just got his master's in biology from Penn State and is going into a Phd. program. Emily is still working for Beyond the Bell* here downtown. How are Cathleen and Alexandra?"

"They're doing well, too. Alex is pre-law at UCLA and Cathleen is a partner at Willis & Blake." Coburn said with a genuine smile.

"That's great!" The Deputy Chief said. He looked a question at Sarah. "So who is this lovely young woman you've invited to join us today?"

"Well, she's the one who asked for the meeting," Coburn said. "This is Sarah Walker. She's recently joined my office to head up a Special Task Force. Sarah, this is Norman Davis, Deputy Chief of the LAPD."

Sarah shook his hand and smiled. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Davis. Thank you for taking the time to meet with us today."

"Not at all," he said. "I'm always up for a meal when this grunting jackass is buying," he tilted his head to indicate Coburn, who grunted a laugh. He looked closely at Sarah. "Aren't you a little young to be heading up a Special Task Force? No offense but you don't look that much older than the typical new recruit!"

Sarah smiled. "As the saying goes, it's not the years that count, but the miles. Why don't we get our table, and I can answer that and any other questions you might have?" Sarah offered.

Coburn and the Deputy Chief together had enough influence to request and receive a table in a small private dining room so they could be separate from other tables.

After they were seated and ordered a round of drinks, Sarah picked up the thread of the conversation. "So, Chief Davis-"

"Call me Norm, please. This is an informal meeting," he suggested.

"Of course, and please, call me Sarah," she said, earning a nod.

"So, Norm, you are correct, I'm admittedly pretty young by FBI standards to be heading up a Special Task Force, but just to give you a little context, this is actually the third one in my career that I've led, and I've seconded four others, so even though I'm young, I'm fairly seasoned," she said with a smile. "And just to get the formalities out of the way, by law I'm required to tell you that you cannot mention the topic of this meeting to anyone,"

He nodded. "I understand. Those other task forces that you led, were they also with the FBI?" He asked.

"No, sir, they were not. I'm actually a fairly recent addition to the FBI family. I transferred from CIA specifically for this investigation. All I can really say is that I have knowledge that gives me an advantage as it pertains to this investigation and the President agrees with that assessment," Sarah said. She was taking a risk mentioning the EO this early on in the conversation, but she got a pretty good read on the Deputy Chief.

She saw Norm's eyebrows go up as he looked at Coburn, who grunted and nodded. "So this is a special Task Force formed by Executive Order?" He asked, receiving nods. "Well, that is surprising. As are your claims of past assignments," he looked at Coburn. "You're familiar with her work?"

Coburn grunted and nodded. "I've read her file," he said plainly. "The parts of it that weren't redacted anyway. In her case, appearances couldn't be more deceiving. She's been there and done that."

The Deputy Chief paused and gave Sarah a meaningful look. "That EO very likely makes you one of the most powerful women in the country at this moment."

Sarah couldn't help but laugh. "If only that were true, Norm. Yes, I do have the EO signed by the President, but given our mandate, I have to be exceedingly careful how I use it. The Task Force itself is code-word secret so if I ever have to use the EO to get something, I'm forbidden from actually saying why and you can imagine the questions that would leave in my wake," Sarah shrugged a little, and the Deputy Chief nodded thoughtfully. "It takes away a lot of the power, if in most situations you can't actually assert the authority you have."

"I see your point," he conceded. The server came into the room with their drinks and took their orders. They waited until he'd left before continuing. "I have to admit that I'm curious how the LAPD can assist you."

"Well sir, we find ourselves in a rather unique position where we need to go outside the Federal government to obtain the personnel resources we need. Specifically we need experienced investigators with a strong foundation in both surveillance, counter-surveillance and undercover work. We would like to poach at least two of your experienced Vice squad detectives for a six-to-twelve month assignment to our Task Force."

Sarah saw the Deputy Chief actually wince a little and frown. "Sarah, I'm not going to lie. That's a huge ask for the department right now. The timing couldn't be worse. We're coming into what looks to be a long, drawn out recession and our Vice unit is understaffed as it is. Recessions always make the Vice division that much busier."

"Yes, sir. I completely understand. That's one of the reasons we wanted to meet with you. Last year, one of your senior captains submitted a grant proposal that was geared specifically towards the training of new officers for the Vice unit. It would allow approval for twenty new trainees that you wouldn't otherwise have access to. Your Vice unit seems to have a catch-22 problem, applications to move to the Vice unit are low because promotion out of Vice is low. You've got good officers in there who have been passed over for promotion because the Vice unit can't afford to let them go," Sarah explained. "Since Vice officers are being passed over, no one who's interested in career advancement wants to work there."

"You're right about the promotion problem, but I'm not sure that's the extent of it. The Vice unit takes a special breed. They only accept about a third of the applicants they do get. Also, that grant proposal was denied," he said. "I don't see how it helps us."

Sarah didn't hesitate. "I can get it approved. That was a Federal Grant application and I believe that's one area that I can exercise some of my authority without creating too many questions. If you have other Federal grant proposals that are being held up, I can look into those as well, but obviously with limitations," Sarah admitted.

The Deputy Chief looked at Coburn and smiled then looked back at Sarah. "I'm impressed. You came prepared knowing exactly what I would need to get on board."

"Norm, in my line of work, preparation often means the opportunity to keep on breathing when you otherwise wouldn't," she said plainly.

He nodded appreciatively. "Sarah, I'm not going to twist your arm. If you can get that training grant approved, you can post your task force openings. That's more than a fair deal for us but please limit it to two officers."

"Understood. In addition to posting the jobs internally, I'd like someone from my team to come in to roll-call on Monday morning and actually make the pitch," she said. "We'd also like to make some contractual guarantees to the applicants we select."

"Such as?"

"That when they return, they automatically qualify for whatever the next step up is from their current rank, as well as placed on a fast-track for whatever assignment they qualify for within the department. This isn't necessarily a Golden Ticket for them, but we want their service recognized," she explained.

"That's perfectly reasonable," the Deputy Chief admitted. "I'll call the Vice Division Captain and let her know. She'll be pissed, but the grant will go a long way to soothing her ire."

"Ok, then, Norm. We have an agreement. I appreciate you working with us on this. I can only hope that my upcoming negotiations go as smoothly."

He looked the question at her. "Upcoming negotiations?" He asked.

"I need a team of at least twenty veteran officers. I'm going to be having this same meeting ten more times in various cities. You're the first because the task force is based out of LA."

Norm shook his head. "It sounds like you've got a long road ahead of you."

"Yes, sir, we do," she admitted.

Once their agreement was in place, the conversation drifted on to personal events between Coburn and the Deputy Chief. They were obviously good friends, just those who didn't often have the opportunity to get together very often. Once the meal was complete, Sarah excused herself from the meeting, making sure to pay the tab as she left, leaving a generous tip.

She'd only been in the meeting for about an hour, but she figured it couldn't hurt to call Chuck and see how things were progressing.

"Hey, sweetie," she heard him say.

"Hey. Just got out of the lunch meeting and figured I'd give you a call."

"I got the call logs and it's just like you thought. Andrew called his cousin right as he left the bomb shelter late Tuesday morning. We can guess how that conversation went – hey cuz, the feds want to build out the bomb shelter underneath your strip mall in Burbank – then lo and behold, a mystery company shows up and wants to buy the building."

"Have you found anything I can use to leverage them?" Sarah asked.

"Everything seems to be run by the book, they're just getting screwed by the recession like a lot of people. There's lots of little things with all the various properties. Overdue fire inspections, complaints about common area maintenance issues at the commercial properties, questionable permits and out of date business licenses, some tax concerns with some of the properties. I'm no accountant but I'd say she's right on the ragged edge of insolvency. The properties seem like they might be worth around forty million under normal circumstances, but with the recession the commercial properties are dragging her down and the residential ones aren't doing much better. She's looking at about twenty-five to maybe thirty million tops in value right now, but her debt on them is a little over thirty million."

"I can't imagine you've had a chance to dig into the various interest rates on the loans?"

"A little, but not in depth. I basically ran all the contracts through an OCR program and pulled out the pieces I was interested in. I can tell you that nearly all of them are at least a point above current market rates, but she can't refi because of the loan-to-value issues."

"How much would it help her if she could refi and consolidate the loans to current market rates?"

"That might just be enough to get her through. My rough estimate says that would save her close to fifty grand a month, give-or-take?"

"Any other information that might be helpful?" Sarah asked.

"Well, it turns out that Rebecca Wright is only 24 years old. She inherited everything from her Uncle last year. It seems he became her legal guardian when she was about five years old after her parents were killed in a plane crash. The portfolio of properties was a mess when she got it and she hasn't been able to do anything about it because the economy went in the shitter."

"Ok, I guess keep digging and let me know if you find any skeletons."

"I've got my meeting at corporate at three o'clock. I have to head out soon for that," Chuck reminded her.

"Shit, yeah, sorry. Go to your meeting, we can pick back up on it later."

"Are you sure? I can reschedule with corporate," he offered.

"No, it sounds like you found pretty much everything there is to find. This girl inherited a mess, she's drowning, and we look like a lifeline. I'm hoping we've got just enough carrot and just enough stick to negotiate with."

"Ok, if you say so. I should be home around five. Love you!"

"Love you too, good luck at your meeting!" She heard him make a smooching noise before he hung up and had to smile.

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By the time Chuck got home that evening, Sarah had just gotten off the phone with a bureaucrat who's ass she swore she would kick if she should ever encounter it in person. Getting the training grant pushed through for the LAPD had so far been one of the most aggravating things she'd had to deal with, but it was now approved, so she was satisfied with the outcome.

She met Chuck at the door, jumping into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him deeply. She pulled out of the kiss and smiled at him as he carried her into the apartment. "Hi, honey! I'm home!" He yelled.

"How did your meeting go?" She asked as she peppered his face with little kisses.

"Uhg, have I mentioned how happy I am that I'm not a lawyer? I mean it takes a special kind of fortitude to read and write contracts without falling into a coma. It's pretty easy to stifle one yawn, but it gets exponentially harder with each one after that," he said, kissing her back. He sat down on the couch with her now in his lap and the kissing got serious.

Sarah pulled back after several long minutes and let out a sigh. "Ok, that ramped up quicker than I meant it to," she admitted.

"You stopped right as I was about to rip all your clothes off with my teeth, just so you know," Chuck said breathlessly.

"Can I give you a little moment of raw honesty?"

"Of course," he said. "You never have to ask that question."

"So, I've spent the last hour dealing with the world's most obtuse bureaucrat, so I was super frustrated like just five minutes ago, and on top of that I've been running around a lot today and I skipped the shower this morning, so I feel kind of kind of sweaty and gross. Then you walked in and I was so happy that I jumped on you and started in with the making out, and I totally want to have sex, just not like, right at this moment," she gave him an apologetic grimace.

"How dare you not sex me immediately upon entering our 1950's domicile! And where's my scotch and my dinner, woman?" Chuck exclaimed. "That's it! I'm moving back in with my sister! Where's my suitcase?" He moved his head back and forth dramatically, looking around the room as if it should be nearby.

Sarah couldn't help but laugh at him. "Is that your way of telling me I'm being silly?"

He grinned at her. "No, you're not being silly, but it feels like you're sort of walking on eggshells a little, which is really more my thing," he said. "I get it, you feel like you ramped up the sexual tension and then had to pull the rug out from under me, is that it?"

She nodded. "Yeah, maybe a little. It felt selfish to mack on you like that then stop the train so to speak."

"You never have to feel selfish about macking on me, like, ever," he said, leaning in to kiss her again. "These lips are here for your kissing pleasure."

"Ok, consider me reassured," she said smiling at him.

"If I may make a suggestion, or perhaps more appropriately, a sex-gestion?" He said, dancing his eyebrows up and down.

"Oh, God, that was bad. I don't think I want to have sex with you any more," she said giggling.

"It couldn't have been that bad, if you're laughing!"

"Yes, but I'm laughing at you, you humongous nerd."

"When I tell you my sexgestion, which is totally a new word by the way, I think you'll change your mind."

"Let's hear it, stud," she said, still giggling.

Her eyes got wider and wider as he leaned up and whispered in her ear, then started sucking on her earlobe. She jumped up off his lap and grabbed his hand, dragging him to the stairs. "You're right. I want to have sex with you again. That's the best sexgestion you've ever had and we're doing it right now!" She demanded.

"Technically it's the only sexgestion I've ever had, since it's the first, but it's certainly not going to be the last!" He shocked her by scooping her off the floor and carrying her up the stairs on his shoulder, tickling the backs of her knees while she squealed.

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"I want to ask your opinion on something," Sarah said. She poured each of them a glass of Merlot as she watched Chuck gathering the ingredients for their dinner. Her hair was still damp from the shower part of Chuck's fabulous sexgestion, and she smiled to herself as she wondered if the word suggestion was ruined for her now.

"Ok, ask away. And chop these veggies while you're at it," he said, setting some potatoes, onions and peppers in front of her.

As she started chopping, she said, "I think I have an idea on how to handle Rebecca Wright, but it's a wildly different approach than one I would have taken a month ago."

"What would you have done a month ago?" He asked as started seasoning steaks he'd taken out of the fridge.

Sarah winced a little. "Coburn asked me the same question and I told him I would have dropped a nuke on her and picked up the pieces I wanted after the dust settled. He seemed to approve of the plan."

Chuck barked out a laugh. "Yeah, I mean she's playing a game she doesn't really understand the rules to, right? She thinks this is a straight FBI play and that their need for the strip mall will force them to pay a premium for it, right?" Sarah nodded as she chopped. "If that was the case, how much do you think she could squeeze the FBI for to get the property?"

"That's a tough question to answer. They have pretty strict rules about this kind of thing and the FBI has very tight budgets. They might go ten percent over the last selling price? She might get three and a half million for it, tops. If she held out for more, it would just stall the project."

"She obviously doesn't realize that, otherwise she would have simply started negotiations right away, when you first called to make an offer, right?" Chuck asked.

"That would seem to be the case," Sarah admitted. She pushed the chopped up veggies across to him and he dumped them into a skillet.

"So rather than dropping a nuke on her, what's your wildly different idea?"

"Actually try to help her," Sarah sighed. "It's tough for me to admit, but it goes against my instincts. She's messing with my shit, my instinct is to… well, like I said… fucking nuke her. Take her completely out of play, bankrupt and out of my hair. Once the banks get wind of what was happening, I could step in and tender an offer to buy the note on the strip mall for a fraction of the actual value."

Chuck nodded obviously thinking the process through, but not looking upset or judgmental, which Sarah was extremely grateful for. "And you could with her, too. Like I said, she's already on that ragged edge. If you could get a few state agencies to schedule some inspections, get a couple of banks to call some of the loans that are in arrears, the whole house of cards would come tumbling down."

"Yep, that's sort of what the process would look like, just more aggressive. I could have the IRS send audit notifications, and that's a bell that can't be unrung. Once you sic the IRS on someone, they follow it through to the bitter end. Every tax bill that's late is a potential lien, every permit that's out of date is a building closure."

"Instead of the nuclear option, what does helping her look like?" He asked as he stirred up the potatoes and added seasoning.

"I have a way that I could get every property consolidated into a single loan and get that loan probably in the three-point-five range, on a five-year ARM," she said.

Chuck's mouth dropped open at that. "Holy shit! That's a couple of points below prime!" She saw him doing some quick calculations in his head. "That would save her somewhere between seventy and eighty grand a month! How the hell can you do that?"

"Use a bank that has close ties with the Company. They do hundred million dollar deals all the time and they get special discounted rates. Tagging her properties on to one of those deals would be pretty easy. Her current lenders get bought out, all of her property LLCs become wholly-owned subsidiaries of say, the management company LLC. I don't know all the ins-and-outs of the legal stuff, but the financial stuff I could probably push through in a couple of days. The rest is just paper work."

"Well, I can tell you, that would do it. That would turn things around, at least if she's not completely inept," Chuck admitted.

"Well, whether she's able to turn it around or not wouldn't be my concern. Only that she agrees to sell me that strip mall at a reasonable, market driven price if I do this for her. Otherwise…" Sarah put her fists together in front of her and made the exploding hands gesture "…Boom!"

"Do you have a plan on how to approach her?" he asked as he put the steaks in the broiler.

"Yeah, it's another part of the wildly different approach," she said. "I was thinking I'd just call her up and invite her out for lunch tomorrow. Try to have a genuine conversation about it rather than starting out confrontationally. I would need you to really educate me regarding what she's got going on, so I'll know if she tries to bullshit me."

"I can do that," Chuck said. "It looks complicated at first glance, but when you break it down by property, it's not so bad, though it's a lot to memorize."

"I don't necessarily need to have everything memorized, just some averages on rates, payments and what she would save if we come to an agreement."

"Ok, that should be pretty easy. I've already got the information pulled into a spreadsheet. We can go over it after dinner," Chuck said as he continued prepping their meal for the evening.

"You know, she has you to thank for this deal," Sarah said as she watched him preparing their meal.

"How so?" he asked.

"You've given me a new perspective on things, Chuck," she said honestly. "I've come to realize that not everything has to be a battle. That doesn't have to be my go-to response. I don't think I would have even considered negotiation as an option a few weeks ago."

Chuck smiled. "I guess, you're welcome?" he said hesitantly. "But just so you know, if this does turn confrontational, I understand the thinking behind… I guess annihilation is the word that most readily comes to mind. Like, this isn't a war or a battle, it's simply her being annihilated. Completely removed as a factor of consideration. I realize that if you can't get her cooperation through a negotiated agreement, that the gloves come off and it's game over for her. In my mind it comes down to choices and consequences. If she makes the choice to make this a confrontation, then she has to live with the consequences of that choice," Chuck talked as he worked on the meal, opening the broiler and flipping the steaks over.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Chuck. I hope it doesn't come to that, but we need to be prepared if it does." She munched on a slice of bell pepper as she talked.

"So, tell me about the contract negotiations with corporate. Are you comfortable with how things are shaking out?" she asked as they sat down to enjoy the meal he'd prepared for them.

"Yeah, I feel really good about it. We've got all the financial stuff ironed out, and I'm very comfortable with how that came together. A lot of the other contract language is geared around the structure of the pilot program at the Burbank store specifically, what defines a successful pilot program versus a failed one."

"So you feel pretty comfortable you'll have things wrapped up early next week?"

"Yeah, I'm hoping we can sign the contracts late Monday or early Tuesday. I sent it over to that lawyer I mentioned before for him to review. If he doesn't have any significant changes, we should be good to go."

"When does it officially kick in after you sign?"

"The end of the month if I can get all the Nerds on board by then, which I'm confident I can do. If not then the end of next month."

"How are you feeling about it? I mean just a couple of days ago it was this sort of abstract idea and now it's almost a reality," she asked.

Chuck let out a nervous laugh. "I'm really excited but also freaking out a little, if I'm completely honest."

"That's perfectly understandable. It's a pretty big deal. Not just for you, but the other Nerd Herders as well."

Chuck nodded. "Yeah, I had a moment yesterday where it occurred to me that I'm really redirecting the path of their lives without them even knowing it. I'm sort of pushing them in a new direction, regardless of whether they sign on or not."

"How are you going to share the news with them?"

"I was thinking we could maybe have a little get together here actually. Like a pizza party or something?" Chuck admitted hopefully. "Maybe next Tuesday night?"

Sarah smiled. "Sure, we could do that."

"At first I was thinking we could go to Bennigan's but I decided that while I want to make it comfortable for them, I don't want them too comfortable."

"Ok then, here it is," she said with a smile.

"When were you thinking you were going to call Rebecca Wright to see if she can do lunch tomorrow?" he asked.

"I'll call after dinner," she said. "You make a mean steak, Chuck. I thought you said you didn't cook?"

"Pff, broiling a steak isn't cooking."

"Yeah, but you also made potatoes and veggies, and they're delicious. You're a little too good to be true, Chuck," she said with a smile.

"Says the woman who conspired to get me my degree and a million dollars!" he exclaimed around a mouth full of potatoes.

Sarah shrugged. "That ultimately just came down to a single phone call. I'm betting it's one you would have made eventually. I think maybe I just sped things up for you."

Chuck gave her a flat look. "You see this expression?" He twirled his hand around his face. "This is my dubious face."

She couldn't help but laugh. "I'll file that away for future reference."

They cleaned up from their meal and Sarah put her feet in Chuck's lap as they sat down on the couch together, groaning deeply as he started rubbing them. "Oh my God, Chuck, that feels so good."

"Well, I have to stop because you can't talk on the phone making noises like that unless you're charging three ninety-nine a minute," he said with a grin.

"Speaking from experience, Chuck?" She asked with a laugh, his subsequent blush making her laugh harder.

"I guess I set myself up for that one," he admitted ruefully, shaking his head.

"Yeah, ya did. Ya nerd," Sarah said, still laughing as she picked up her phone. She pulled up his text with the numbers then dialed the number listed as Rebecca's private cell phone. She didn't really expect a wealthy twenty four year old woman to answer on a Friday evening and was prepared to leave a voicemail. She was surprised when a gruff, angry man answered her call.

"Who the fuck is this?" The voice demanded.

Sarah sat up straight on the couch immediately. She made her voice high and nasally as she answered, "Yes, may I speak to.. Rebecca Wright, please?" She heard what sounded like a muffled scream in the background, then the guy on the phone covered the receiver. Sarah heard him say, "Shut that bitch up!"

He came back on the line. "No, answer my question, who are you?" The voice demanded again. Sarah could hear activity in the background but couldn't identify it.

"I'm calling regarding a time-share opportunity on the beautiful Florida Gold Coast," Sarah said, continuing with the nasally voice as Chuck looked extremely confused.

"Don't fucking call this number again," the voice said angrily, then disconnected.

She looked at Chuck. "Shit."

"Uh, yeah, that's not how I expected you to handle that call," he said.

"I don't want to jump to conclusions, but my gut is telling me that this just got more complicated than I originally thought it was," she said as she dialed Coburn's cell number from memory.

He answered on the third ring. "Coburn."

"How quickly can I get a location trace on a cell phone?" Sarah asked.

"Call the main number for the LA field office, press star then enter your ID number from your badge. That will get you to the Operations Center for LA. You're on the senior staff list who are authorized for requests like that. They should have a location for you down to twenty-five feet within a couple of minutes," he explained quickly.

"Ok thanks, I'll call you back to fill you in," Sarah said, then disconnected. She did as Coburn instructed and was told she'd get a call back within a couple of minutes with a location. She immediately called Carina.

"What's up Walker, you up for a night out? I can third wheel it with you and your orgasm machine."

"No, and neither are you. Is Larkin around?"

"Yeah, he's in his room."

"I need you guys to put your game faces on. I want to look into something that smells off. It's tangential to our assignment, but important nonetheless."

"OK," Carina replied.

"Both of you start heading towards Bel Air. Drive separately. I'll text you an address shortly, but don't approach directly. We'll need to meet nearby. I'm heading to my old office to check out a surveillance van," Sarah explained.

"Ok, we'll be on the road in five," Carina said.

A few moments after she hung up, her phone rang. The duty officer gave her the address that the phone was currently located at and it wasn't Rebecca Wright's listed residence in Bel Air, but one of her apartment complexes in Boyle Heights. They had it narrowed down to one of four apartments across the first two floors of the four-story structure. Sarah knew this was one of the more crime ridden areas of LA. She called Carina back and gave her the address.

Sarah looked down and realized she was only wearing a robe and her hair was still a little damp. "Shit, I've gotta get dressed," she said as she jumped up and started making her way quickly up stairs as Chuck followed.

"Sarah, hon, you still haven't told me what's going on. I only heard your half of that call with someone that obviously wasn't Rebecca Wright," Chuck said sounding concerned.

Sarah talked as she got dressed. "Yeah, a very rude, angry man answered what's supposed to be Rebecca's private cell phone, and it didn't sound like an angry boyfriend. I don't know what it is yet, but my gut is telling me there's something else going on here." She pulled her hair back into a damp ponytail. "The part that didn't quite add up is shutting down any negotiation on the building. She could have countered with five million or seven or whatever she wanted, but she didn't. This might not be a shakedown after all."

"Ok, so are we going to Boyle Heights?" Chuck asked.

Sarah looked up and realized that Chuck had been getting dressed as well, having been in pajamas to cook dinner. "No, Chuck, I'm going to Boyle Heights," she said firmly.

He looked at her sharply. "What? No, Sarah if I missed something today, that's on me. I won't be excluded from this. I'm your tech expert, you said you're picking up a surveillance van. That's literally my part of this job," he said.

Sarah found herself conflicted and more than a little nervous. He was right that he was her tech. He probably knew more about the stuff in the van than she ever would. She was suddenly genuinely afraid. "Chuck, the idea of taking you into the field is scaring the shit out of me right now. I mean I knew this day would come, I just thought I'd have more time to get used to the idea and get you some baseline training."

Chuck put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Hey, it's ok. This isn't us going up against Fulcrum. This is just us going to see what's up with some angry dude who answered a phone he maybe shouldn't have," he smiled at her. "This is a perfect training op for me."

"Ok, Chuck, you can go, but you stay in the fucking van or I will kick your ass, do you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, without a hint of humor.

"Fuck," Sarah said with a heavy sigh. "You might want to stay home when I tell you we're taking my new car and playtime is over. I'm genuinely in a fucking hurry."

Chuck's eyes got wide. "No problem. It'll be fun," he said unconvincingly.

A little more than a half hour later, Chuck was belted into a seat in the back of a surveillance van similar to the one Sarah had used to entrap Professor Fleming a week earlier. She had called Carina from the car and instructed her and Bryce to do some up close reconnaissance to see if they could identify the apartment where Rebecca's phone was currently located. Chuck had pulled a picture of her off the internet and texted it to them so they would know the target on sight. He was inventorying the items in the van and was extremely impressed. Everything was at least one generation newer than what they had access to on the consumer market and was insanely expensive. With Friday night traffic, the drive to the apartment complex took nearly an hour.

Carina called her while they were on their way. "Yeah, up close recon is a no-go. Somebody is using the apartment complex for nefarious purposes and we saw an unusual number of men in the vicinity. I'm thinking the entire building has been repurposed for a prostitution ring. They've got muscle at every door into the complex. They look comfortable, like they've been at this for a while and don't expect trouble. They know all the comings and goings. We wouldn't get inside without taking one of them down."

"What about exterior windows?" Sarah asked as she creeped along in traffic.

"We have line of sight to the front of the building, but the back side is up against an alley that drops down below the first level of apartments, and then a fifteen foot tall retaining wall across the driveway. There's a line of parking spots under the first floor apartments off the alley, mostly empty except for a late model BMW, what looks like a couple of low riders and several bullet bikes. They're all parked with the fronts out but only the BMW has front plates. It's registered to a Rebecca Wright."

"She's our target. I think we can call that confirmation that she's here with her phone. The sun is setting soon. Any cover of darkness advantage?"

"Hard to say without knowing the objective. Can you give me any details as to what this is about?" Carina asked. Sarah proceeded to summarize the issue with being locked out of the strip mall, her suspicions regarding a shake-down, calling Rebecca to talk, then the angry man on the phone that put a twist on the situation.

"So it sounds like the objective is to find out exactly where Rebecca Wright is in that apartment building, and if she's there by choice or under duress."

"That is correct. We'll get pictures of the muscle when we get there, run them through facial recognition, then get known associates from there. I want a better understanding of what we're up against. Find somewhere nearby to lay low and sit tight until we get there."

"Got it, will do." Carina said, then disconnected the call. Sarah called back to Chuck and told him where to find a digital camera and several high powered telephoto lenses. She had him start taking practice shots to get a feel for the weight of the camera and how to find the target at such high magnification.

They eventually met up with Carina and Bryce at a gas station convenience store around the corner from the apartment complex. The two white Crown Victoria's stood out as police cars, so Sarah had Bryce get in back with Chuck while Carina took the passenger seat up front. They spent a few minutes talking about options for getting eyes on the building.

"We can't park on the street anywhere close enough to see them. They've been here a while, they know the street. This van will stick out like a neon sign if we park it close enough to do us any good. Same with our Fibby Fords," Carina complained.

"We have a small video camera with a transmitter. As long as we're within a mile of it, we'll be able to get the feed. We could plant the camera and transmitter somewhere across the street maybe?" Chuck said hopefully.

"Bryce, think you could find an inconspicuous place to plant it?" Sarah asked.

"I guess we'll find out," he replied. Chuck gave him the equipment and explained how to activate it. Fifteen minutes later the live feed popped up on one of the many monitors. The camera appeared to be in the shade at ground level but had a good angle so that they could see two of the entrances and the guards loafing around. Unfortunately, the resolution wasn't high enough for a good picture of their faces. Bryce knocked on the van a few minutes later.

"I was able to slip it under a car with flat tires across the street from the complex. It's invisible under there."

"Good job," Sarah said from behind the wheel as she started up the van. "Ok, Chuck. I'm going to make a pass. Get as many pictures of the guys at the entrances as you can."

"Got it!" He yelled from the back of the van.

After they drove past the apartment complex, Sarah returned to the gas station and parked on the side of the building. Chuck loaded the pictures onto the dedicated computer in the van then spent several minutes hacking into the LAPD booking system and started the facial recognition process using the booking photos to compare against the ones he took. In less than an hour they had a pretty comprehensive list of local gangsters known as the Soto Street Motorcycle Club. Their territory seemed fairly expansive around East LA and their forte seemed to be drugs and prostitution. And maybe now kidnapping if they had Rebecca Wright in there against her will.

"Chuck, do you still have access to her phone logs?" Sarah asked.

"Sure," he said.

"Ok, go in and look at her phone logs after her cousin called her to when I called her number tonight then compare it to activity from last week. Also, check the cousins phone logs again too and let me know who else he called after he called her."

"I'm on it," he said as he started tapping away on his laptop. She could hear Bryce and him talking quietly while he worked, occasionally laughing. After a few minutes, Chuck yelled out, "I got it. Her call volume was pretty consistent up until this past Tuesday afternoon, then it dropped to nill. Lots of inbound texts and calls, but nothing outbound," Chuck explained.

"Tuesday afternoon, right after the FBI was poking around in the basement of one of her properties," Sarah observed.

"It feels to me like she was rounded up, brought here and her phone was taken away. Somebody got spooked," Carina said.

"I agree, and we'll operate from that assumption," Sarah said.

Sarah tapped her fingernail against her front teeth as she considered the situation. She couldn't figure out how a young woman who inherited millions in real estate could get caught up in a gang like Soto Street. Except that she didn't really inherit millions in real estate, she inherited millions in debt and all the headaches associated with managing and maintaining a lot of real estate but no cash flow to do it. And on top of that, she was only twenty-four years old. Just a couple of years out of college probably.

She looked at the picture Chuck had found online. She was a very pretty brunette, on the petite side at just five-foot-four, slim build, with makeup that was tastefully applied. It was fairly recent at less than a year old, so not long after her Uncle died and made her life a lot more complicated.

"What are you thinking?" Carina asked.

"I'm thinking pretty much what you said earlier. That however she ended up here it wasn't by choice. She just inherited all these properties less than a year ago. I think she's caught up in something. She's only twenty-four. Who's the last twenty-four year old you met who had their shit even halfway together?"

Carina laughed. "You," she said.

"Pff. I'm an outlier. Who else?"

"No one."

"Exactly," Sarah said. "My gut is telling me she's in there and that she's in trouble. You think it's a front for a prostitution ring after all. What worse trouble is there for a young woman who looks like this?" Sarah asked as she held up the photo of Rebecca Wright.

"Not much comes to mind," Carina admitted.

Chuck called from the back of the van. "Hey, I've got something here."

Sarah leaned over and looked back. "What's up?"

"I noticed something else on the pictures I took. They've got video surveillance on the doors of the complex," he said.

"That's not surprising," Sarah said.

"Yeah, but I'm familiar with the system. It's WiFi based. If I can get close enough to the signal, I can own their cameras in like ten minutes. Maybe less."

"How close do you need to be?"

"Pretty close," he admitted. "Basically on the property, very close to the building itself."

"Not happening, Chuck," Sarah said adamantly.

"It doesn't have to be him," Bryce spoke up. "He could slave his laptop to the van computer, I could sneak around back and hide it in the shadows of the covered parking area or somewhere else. There doesn't seem to be much activity back there."

Sarah considered it for a moment and looked at Chuck. "So if Bryce were able to get your laptop stashed by the building, you could use your laptop remotely from the van to hack their security feed?"

"Yes, that's correct," Chuck said.

"How long will your laptop last before the battery dies?"

"If I put everything into low power mode except the WiFi and the WAN connection, maybe five hours with the lid closed and the display off."

Carina looked at Sarah and said, "I'm betting they've got cameras throughout the building. He gets the feed and that's the intel we need to storm the place in the middle of the night and find your girl. This van come with stun guns?" Sarah smiled and nodded. They talked for the next few minutes with Bryce, putting together a plan.

Things didn't seem to settle down until much later than expected but Bryce was able to situate the laptop behind a garbage can near the side of the building and discovered that Chuck had already hacked the video feeds in the few minutes it took him to walk back to the gas station. Chuck seemed offended for some reason, cursing and gesturing at the screen.

"What's wrong with Chuck?" He asked as he climbed in.

Carina was laughing. "His Nerd sensibilities have been deeply offended. Apparently whoever installed the cameras just left everything at factory default. Passwords, IP addresses, settings, everything. There's enough recorded data on the system to put all these guys away for years. They're literally recording themselves in an ongoing criminal enterprise. It's a RICO prosecutor's wet dream."

"How many guys are we looking at inside?"

"Looks like maybe ten including the door guys," Chuck said. "Yeah, ten. The three door guys and then two guys on each floor, one at each end of the hallway, except for the first floor where there's only one guy. They all look pretty bored."

The video feed showed a consistent stream of men who would walk up to the main door, give the guard there something that Sarah thought looked like a poker chip. The man would say a name, then be directed to a specific apartment. They started to build a list of names and associated apartment numbers and it seemed that there were probably at least two women in each apartment.

"That complex has what, thirty two apartment units?" Sarah asked.

"That's what it looks like. There's a central hallway with five units per floor on the front side facing the street and three on the opposite side facing the alley. Then there's two elevators, maintenance shaft and stairwells on each end," Chuck said.

About an hour after Chuck hacked the security cameras, a black Cadillac SUV with massive wheels and a stereo that could be heard blocks away showed up, then several guys riding motorcycles arrived a couple of minutes later. "Guys, I think we might be seeing a shift change," Chuck said, alerting everyone else who'd been dozing in their seats. They all crowded into the back of the van and watched the monitors. All of the new guards that showed up were already in their file of known members of the Soto Street gang. The two groups spent several minutes talking with each other, and Sarah noticed something on the second floor. One of the new arrivals went directly to an apartment on that floor and knocked on the door. The door opened after a minute and there was a brief exchange, but no one ever stepped out from that apartment. Eventually the first group left, taking the cars and motorcycles that had been there all night, with the exception of one particular car, another custom low rider of some kind.

"There's at least one additional person we haven't seen and he's in that second floor apartment, next to the elevators," Sarah said. "That's probably a lieutenant or captain or whatever. Some kind of boss who they defer to. I think we can safely assume that Rebecca is in that apartment."

"How do you want to do this?" Bryce asked.

"I'm trying to ascertain our probable cause here," Sarah said. "We need to think about this like Feds."

"Didn't you say you heard a scream in the background when you called Rebecca? Couldn't that be our probable cause?" Chuck asked.

Sarah looked at Carina. "You tell us, DEA, you operate more like a Fibby than Bryce or I do. Is it enough?"

"So the scream and the scuffle you heard on the phone, and the fact that it was answered by someone else is probable cause to track her phone thinking she might be in trouble. Her car being here along with known gang affiliates. She's literally an heiress to a real estate fortune. Yeah, I think it's enough."

"Ok, good enough," Sarah said. "Here's what I'm thinking…" She then proceeded to lay out the plan and worked with them to make adjustments as necessary.

The arrival of men to the complex slowed to a couple per hour about an hour before sunrise and there didn't seem to be more than a few customers in the complex as few stayed more than about fifteen minutes or so. Sarah had decided this was the best time to go. She was hiding in the shadows of a tree across the street from the complex. She keyed her radio on. "T3, in position," she said.

A moment later she heard Bryce say, "T1, in position."

Then she heard Carina. "T2, in position."

"Eagle, loop the feed now," Bryce ordered. Since the men on guard duty were restless and moving around quite a bit, it had taken Chuck some time to create a consistent stretch of video feed that looked normal. They didn't want to risk someone inside watching the cameras on an internal monitor and see them coming.

"The feed has been looped. I have a live feed but they will see what I've spooled up. You're clear to go," Chuck answered after a few seconds.

"T1, we are a go on your signal," Sarah said.

"Roger that, Eagle, what's our status on the guards?" Brice asked.

"No change, all targets still in position," Chuck answered.

"Acknowledged," Bryce said. After a few seconds, Sarah saw Bryce walking down the sidewalk, then he was lost from her line of sight as he turned to approach the guard at the front door. After a few more seconds she heard, "GO-GO-GO," from Bryce, which meant he'd incapacitated the guard at the front door and was waiting for them to make his way inside. She sprinted across the street and down into the alley, where the guard at the back door had actually started to doze off in his chair. Sarah pressed the stun gun to the base of his skull, where it was guaranteed to knock him out and pulled the trigger. He convulsed in his chair and went limp. She slipped a set of heavy-duty zip tie handcuffs on him.

"T3, ready," Sarah said as she found and removed a Glock from the unconscious gangsters waistband. She ejected the magazine then pulled the slide back to find the chamber empty and scoffed. Idiot.

She heard Carina in her earpiece. "T2, ready." Which meant that her guard was also unconscious, disarmed and zip tied.

Sarah slipped the magazine into her back pocket and slid the gun under one of the cars as she made her way to the door he'd been guarding.

"Entering front door," Bryce said. After a few moments she heard him whisper. "First floor clear!"

Sarah opened the back door and slipped into the brightly lit stairwell at the north end of the building and made her way up to the second floor. Crouching low, she stepped up to the door. "T3, in position," she said.

Carina and Bryce teamed up at the south stairwell. Bryce spoke up over the comms, "T1 and T2 in position. Eagle, status."

"Both second floor guards are just sitting in their chairs," Chuck said.

"T3, prepare to go on 1…" Sarah put her hand on the door handle, prepared to open it quickly and smoothly. "3… 2…" Sarah turned the knob and pulled the door open in one motion, took one long stride and stunned the next guard the same way at the base of the skull. He twitched violently in his seat for a moment then his arms fell limp beside him. She saw Bryce and Carina at the other end of the hall as she zip tied the guard and searched him for weapons, finding another Glock. This one at least had a round chambered. She put the magazine in her back pocket with the first, the lone round in her front pocket. She put the Glock in her waist band and gave a thumbs up to Bryce at the other end of the hall.

"Second floor clear," she heard him say as she opened the door to the stairwell, quietly pulling the door closed then moving quickly up to the third floor.

They repeated the process on the third floor and as they were moving up to the fourth, Chuck came over the radio. "The fourth floor guard next to the north stairwell is antsy. He's walking around and stretching his arms and bouncing up and down on his toes. It's like he's trying to stay alert. He's about eight feet from the stairwell door."

That would be Sarah's target. "Acknowledged," she whispered firmly as she keyed her radio. "T1, T2, proceed as before, on 1, your count. T3, in position."

"T1, T2, in position, prepare to go on 1…" he paused for a moment. "3…2…" Sarah intentionally jumped the count by the barest split second and rushed up on the guard. He was facing slightly towards her stretching his arms over his head, by the time he overcame his confusion at a beautiful blonde woman running towards him, Sarah had stuck the stun gun in his armpit and pushed the button.

The battery in the device must have been drained because the guard grunted angrily but didn't fall. He reached out to grab Sarah and she ducked out of the way. She grabbed his fingers, twisted his hand over so his palm was facing up, then bent his fingers backwards hard towards his body. He yelled in pain as Sarah felt a pop in one of his fingers, at which point he started to fumble at his waistband for his weapon with his other hand.

Sarah dropped the stun gun and hit him hard in the throat with the webbed gap between her thumb and forefinger. His free hand involuntarily jumped up to his throat as he temporarily lost the ability to breathe. She yanked his weapon out of his waistband, flipped the gun in the air, grabbed it by the barrel and back-handed him with the butt of the pistol hard against his temple which left him staggered and barely upright. She stepped in behind him with one leg and used her free arm to sweep his body over her hip, slamming him to the floor hard on his back. He was severely dazed but still conscious as she rolled him over onto his stomach and zip tied him. She picked her stun gun up off the floor and replaced the battery with a spare in her other pocket, then zapped him at the base of his skull. His struggles stopped. "T3, clear," she said into the radio. She could see Bryce and Carina standing over the other guard at the far end of the hall, having watched her scene play out.

"T1, T2, clear. Proceeding to the second floor," Bryce said over the radio.

Sarah rushed down the stairs and met them at the apartment where they'd seen one of the guards talking to someone. She stood to the side and gently turned the knob. She wasn't surprised to find it unlocked. They each had their sidearms out, along with a small but powerful LED flashlight. She whispered, "Go on 1…" she paused. "3… 2…" She turned the knob and pushed firmly as Carina and Bryce rushed into the apartment. As expected, it was dark, but the flashlights lit the room like noon. Bryce cleared the living area and kitchen as Sarah and Carina each made their way to one of the two bedrooms. Sarah heard noises from the bedroom that told her what she'd see before she got there. She moved quickly into the room and found Rebecca Wright naked, straddling one of the Soto Street gang members, who was conveniently tied to the bed, hands and feet. "FBI, DO NOT MOVE!" Sarah shouted as she came into the room.

Rebecca screamed and put her arms around herself, while the man on the bed looked completely shocked.

"Rebecca Wright, are you under duress?" she said loudly. She felt Bryce and Carina behind her.

"The apartment is clear. You want us to start rounding up the john's and the girls, and move guards into one of the apartments?" Bryce asked quietly. Sarah nodded.

"What? What's happening?" Rebecca yelled. "Why are you here?"

"Rebecca Wright, are you under duress?" Sarah asked again, watching Rebecca's face closely. Sarah saw the realization of the position she was in occur to the other woman, saw that 'Oh shit' moment come and then be replaced by despair and relief.

"Oh, thank God!" She exclaimed as she started to climb off the man.

"Move very slowly, Rebecca!" Sarah ordered. "Keep your hands where I can see them at all times."

The man on the bed looked offended. "Becky, what? Baby, whatchu sayin'?"

She stepped onto the floor slowly, her hands trying to cover her nakedness. "Thank God you found me! I know this looks bad! He forced me! He threatened me!"

The man on the bed looked hurt for a moment, then just started laughing. "Oh, that's fuckin' next-level, baby," he said. "They gonna eat that shit UP! You play the damsel. You gotta cry tho, baby. You wanna sell it, you need to stir up some big ole crocodile tears!"

As if on cue, Rebecca started crying, tears flowing down her cheeks in a stream. "He's lying, he forced me! He raped me!" She cried.

The man just laughed harder and looked at Sarah, seemingly unconcerned with being tied up and naked. "She's good, right? Gotta give credit, FBI lady! Props is due!" He looked Sarah up and down, then licked his lips. "You know FBI lady, if you wanna go for a ride, I'm in no position to refuse," he said, rocking his hips side-to-side.

Sarah walked over and zapped him with the stun gun. Twice.

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A/N 1: Hmm. Interesting development. Which direction are we going with the young Ms. Wright? Our assumptions tell us a lot about ourselves. Mine included.

A/N: My fictional character, LAPD Deputy Chief Norman Davis mentions a real world charitable organization - Beyond the Bell - which provides crucial after school programs for youth in Los Angeles school districts.