Chapter Five: Off the Rails

Greg strode into Downsview Base, his face grim and a snap to his stride; there was no point in hiding his current state of mind from his team, particularly since he needed their help to keep his gryphon side under control. Even so, if he could, he did plan to keep Toth from figuring out just how close to the edge he was skating. Toth already had too many pieces of the puzzle for Greg's liking without giving him any more.

"Boss…" Winnie called, "I got Donna."

"Patch her into the team," Greg instructed. As the comm clicked in his ear, he added, "Go ahead, Donna."

"Okay, baby steps here," Donna admitted. "There was a mass theft of license plates about a week ago. The job is connected to a drug dealer named Neal Cavelle."

"Awesome," Wordy remarked, sarcasm reeking.

"I know this guy," Donna continued, her voice gaining a fiercer edge. "He's an up-and-comer. We tried to take him down when I was undercover at Drug Squad and couldn't do it."

A smart up-and-comer then, Greg mused, rolling his left shoulder; the pain in his left arm had finally died down to a level he could live with. The arm itself was still throbbing and numb, but he could once again use it. If his team had to go tactical, he'd have to forgo his 'team sense', but for now, he could manage.

"What's Cavelle into?" Sam inquired.

"Heroin."

"There's your Afghanistan connection," Spike opined; Greg nodded to himself at his bomb tech's conclusion.

"You think this is Cavelle we're after?" Greg pressed the ex-undercover cop.

"No," Donna replied at once. "Ed's shooter does not match the description, but it could be one of his guys."

"Okay," Greg accepted, "Lean on your contacts at Drug Squad."

"Yeah, I will," Donna agreed before signing off.

As she did so, Greg covered the last few meters between himself and his team, all of them looking worried for their team leader. "How is he?" Wordy asked before his Sergeant could speak.

"Couple broken ribs, lost a lot of blood," Greg led with. "He'll be good; Roy and his partner are going to keep an eye on him for us."

"What aren't you saying, Boss?" Jules inquired shrewdly.

The Sergeant debated, then opted to say, "Possible nerve damage in his arm; it's too soon to tell." But even as he spoke, his hands communicated that Healers had been called in and their team leader was, as he'd said, going to be fine. "So, drugs…"

Sam picked up the baton. "Smuggled in a dead soldier's locker," he confirmed.

"Sergeant Parker…"

Greg didn't bother to hide his grimace. Keeping his voice polite and level, he replied, "Yes, Dr. Toth?"

But for once, the good doctor wasn't trying to hinder his team. "I've worked with soldiers' families," Toth informed the group, "I know a thing or two about the chain of grief."

Jules pounced on the additional background info. "Well, how does a civilian get access to a soldier's belongings?"

"He doesn't," Toth returned, his voice matter-of-fact. "The delivery follows a strict chain-of-custody protocol. The deceased's items are examined, prepared, and inventoried overseas, transported by locker, under strict supervision, and then stored at the depot until they're released to a family member after a second inspection."

The Sergeant frowned, running through the chain mentally. By his count, Cavelle would need at least two insiders, one at each end, to facilitate the smuggling. Risky, but obviously doable.

Spike's train of thought was running a bit differently, as he observed, "So if you'd want to arrange a drug shipment, you'd bypass civilian border inspection, which is smart."

Sam, on the other hand, was focusing on the chain's end. "All you'd need is an accomplice on the inside."

"Let's check the duty roster," Jules agreed.

Greg watched the two depart, an uneasy feeling in his gut.

Ed was aware that Onasi had held Clark and Lance back and quietly approved of the maneuver. Better to nip any issues in the bud and start getting things back to what passed for normal. In the meantime, he focused on the room ahead of him where Sophie was. He could see his wife on the hospital bed, obviously in pain even as his brother opened the door.

"Eddie, what happened?" Sophie cried as she saw her husband in a wheelchair with bandages on his left arm.

"I'm okay," Ed soothed as Roy pushed his chair right up to the bed. "I'm right here."

Before she could reply, Sophie's face scrunched in pain and she let out a cry.

"Why is she in pain?" Ed demanded of the doctor tending to his wife.

"The anesthetist's on his way," the doctor replied at once.

Ed switched his attention back to Sophie. "Sophie…Sophie, you're gonna be okay." Leaning closer, he coached, "It's time for breathing, like we practiced, okay? Breathe in, breathe in…"

Sophie met his eyes as she obeyed, trusting him and using him as her anchor in the storm of pain, fear, and uncertainty.

"Hold," Ed murmured, watching carefully. "…out. That's it, baby. That's it. In…and out… That's it. Good, good. That's it."

Jules took the clipboard from one of the corporals behind the desk, scanning it even as she pulled it towards her. "Thanks," she told the corporal before moving away and holding the clipboard so both she and Sam could read it at the same time.

"All right, today is Meg Keefler's shift," Jules observed. "She runs it alone. She definitely knew that the locker was coming in."

"And they gave her Private Jordan to train."

Thinking out loud, Jules continued, "Keefler said to let this one go, but he wouldn't."

Sam finished her thought. "He's the reason things went off the rails."

"So the gunman didn't abduct Keefler for leverage," Jules reasoned out, "He took her 'cause she was wounded."

"Because she's in on it," Sam hissed. The pair traded looks and hurried back to their teammates; they had a new lead.

Wordy picked up their conclusion and ran with it as the team circled up. "So the gunman didn't fire at Meg Keefler, not on purpose."

"No," Sam agreed, "She got in the line of fire."

"She's wounded; he's probably looking for help," Spike offered as he inspected the crime scene one last time.

"He probably feels guilty for hurting her, too," Lou observed, "Even if she got in the line of fire, he still shot her."

"Right, Lou," Sarge confirmed, before directing his next words to the whole team. "Your partner gets shot, where do you go?"

"Not the hospital," Jules opined.

Wordy's words were slow, the constable thinking even as he voiced his two cents. "A colleague; a friend he trusted…"

The army medic nearby had been packing up as Team One brainstormed and he couldn't help but overhear them. As Wordy finished his thought, the medic spoke up from behind the group. "Captain Quadir."

The officers turned towards the man even as Sarge queried, "Who?"

The medic came over, immediately offering up the details. "Joni Quadir. She's a doctor. She and Keefler served together; they're friends."

Team One traded looks, then Lou asked, "Do you know her address?"

"Sophie, breathe in…two, three, four, hold…and out," Ed coached, all his attention on his wife. Roy hovered behind him, ready to help if he could, but Ed was barely aware of him.

Sophie, though, traded a quick look with her brother-in-law. "Eddie," she pleaded, "You gotta let them help you."

"I'm okay," Ed refuted. "I'm okay. Breathe in…two, three, four, hold."

As he kept coaching Sophie through the breathing exercise, a new doctor entered and Sophie's doctor started briefing him as quickly as he could. "She's still at five centimeters." Turning to husband and wife, the blue-smocked doctor announced, "Mrs. Lane? Sophie? We're going to do the C-sections, all right? Soon as the anesthetist has you set up…"

Something on the medical monitors went off as the doctor spoke, demanding attention and immediate action; the doctor darted a look, then snapped at his colleague, "On her side."

"What's going on?" Ed barked as Roy scrambled out of the way.

"We've lost readings on the baby," the doctor explained as he and the anesthetist moved Sophie to rest on her side. "We need to get the baby back into position."

Sophie's eyes locked on her husband as she bit back cries of pain. "It's okay," Ed soothed her, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Team One rammed through the small house's doors, Jules and Parker in the lead. The officers located two females on the lower floor of the house, in the house's small living room, next to a bay window. "Police! Hands in the air!" Jules yelled as she entered.

Right beside her, her Boss's temper was off its leash as he snarled, "Show us your hands! Do it now! Hands in the air!"

Outside the room, Sam and Spike charged up the stairs while Lou and Wordy swept the rest of the bottom floor, moving fast and in sync.

Jules felt her eyes widen in surprise and no small amount of dismay as Sarge closed in on the injured woman and roared, "The man who brought you here, where is he?"

If she hadn't been sure before, she was now; Sarge was out of control.