Spoiler: Yeah, seasons 1 – 6 of NYPD Blue and random facts from CSI: NY and Criminal Minds.
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Setting: AU: SpeedBurn: Sunday, April 20, 1997: Chicago, Illinois and Wednesday, April 1, 1998: New York City (for about two months).
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Note: This is a three-way crossover between CSI: NY, Criminal Minds, and NYPD Blue. Keep an eye on dates and locales so you can follow the two cases.
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Setting: Sunday, April 20, 1997; Chicago, Illinois:
"Why us, Gideon? The Chicago unit can easily handle a kidnapping. Why call for someone from DC?" Derek Morgan's smooth voice sounded curious but not anxious as he turned the rental car off the turnpike.
Jason Gideon nodded, flipping to the first page in the file he held. Taylor – Suspected Kidnapping – April 20, 1997 was written at the top followed by a list of details concerning the crime, scene, victim, and other pertinent information. A photograph had been clipped to the page of text: a man with dark hair and an intense stare looked straight at the camera standing with an arm around a lovely brown-haired, blue-eyed woman with a playful smile. Jason stroked one finger gently down the photograph, as if touching something precious.
"The FBI didn't call us in, Derek. The victim's father called me in."
"Specifically? You know these people?" Derek didn't take his eyes from the road as he wove the car around the city traffic.
Letting out a slow breath, Jason closed the file. He didn't need to look at it to know everything it contained. "I served under him in Beirut."
Derek's eyes widened at the admission. "Wait . . . Beirut? Are you talking '83? The Marine barracks bombing? You were there?"
Jason looked at his trainee then back at the view through the windshield. His voice took on a faraway, lecturer's tone, much as it did when reciting the evidence and profile of their cases. "Lieutenant McKenna Llewellyn Taylor was severely injured and still saved others. He did surgery in the field . . . but he wasn't trained for it. Our Corpsman was swamped. I was a raw private first class and left the Corps shortly afterwards."
The senior investigator ran a finger over the edge of the case file without looking at it. He remained distant sounding, almost detached from what he said. "The lieutenant was in the hospital for weeks. I went every day to see him, but his nurse was more strict than a gunnery sergeant. She'd only let visitors in for a few minutes every three days." With the smallest shrug of his shoulders, Jason indicated a relaxed nonchalance separate from his lecturer attitude. "He lived; he healed; he stayed in and later served in the Gulf War; so she must have done something right."
"After he retired from the Marines, he went on to law enforcement. He met Claire Conrad around that time and they soon married. She works for Port Authority at Great Lakes; he's second in command of the Chicago Crime Lab." Jason finished talking, falling into an introspective silence.
Derek whistled low. He shook his head and pulled into a space in the hospital parking garage. "And they're calling in a favor with a buddy?" The young African-American investigator turned off the car.
Jason finally turned to Derek holding the file out to him. "This morning their first child, Magnolia Star Taylor, was born after a difficult delivery. Five hours ago, the doctors got Claire's hemorrhaging under control and the mother was allowed to hold her infant for the first time. After twenty minutes a nurse came in and told them Claire needed to rest and the baby needed to go back to the nursery for routine checks. She took the infant from the mother's arms, walked out of Mrs. Taylor's room, and no one has seen nurse or infant since."
Jason slid out of the car, looked over the roof at his trainee, and added, "so, yes, Lieutenant Taylor called in a favor from an old Marine buddy."
He closed the door of the rental car and turned towards the hospital entrance, Derek close on his heels.