A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! It's so weird being back in Texas... too hot! So as an Independence Day present, here's the next chapter. Everything will be revealed in this one. And yes, I am still working on the sequel to this one. This chapter is dedicated to all those brave men and women who fight for our freedom, past and present. Happy Independence Day!
Chapter 5
Interrogation Room 1
Precinct 16
Elliot turned one of the chairs in the room around and straddled it, lowering his bulk into the chair to rest his arms on the back. "O'Brian, I hope for your sake you didn't hurt Casey."
Jack fixed his blue eyes on Elliot's. "I wouldn't hurt her," he whispered.
"You lied to her. You lied to us. We looked you up in our database. There's absolutely no record of a Jack O'Brian anywhere until three years ago. Care to explain that?"
He turned his blue eyes toward the metal table. "I'd like to make my phone call."
"Listen man, you can, but if you don't talk to us now, we can't help you. We know you know Connor Miller. And if we have to arrest you for obstruction of justice, we will."
"I wanna make a phone call."
Elliot sighed and motioned for Jack to stand up. "Let's go." He led Jack through the door to where Captain Cragen, Olivia, and Casey stood watching in the observation room. Casey refused to even look at him as he passed.
Five minutes later, Jack and Elliot returned to the interrogation room and to their respective places on either side of the metal table in the center of the room. "So," Elliot began. "Let me start with what I know."
Jack said nothing.
"You work for Philip Sullivan, who's under suspicion for racketeering and other sordid crimes. You obviously know Connor Miller. The guy that murdered at least two families that we know of. Two kids, that we know of. Did Sullivan order the hit?"
Silence.
"Okay." Elliot pulled out some photos. "If you're not involved, you at least have some knowledge of these crimes. You know what that makes you? An accessory to murder, to start with."
A knock on the mirror stopped Elliot cold, and he quickly got up and went out the door. Cragen, Casey, and the rest of the squad stared at a tall man in a black suit standing by the door. "What's up?" he asked, confused.
"Elliot, this is Agent Andrew Russell," Munch said, motioning to the man in the suit. "He's with the FBI. He gave us those lists on Sullivan."
"Why is the FBI interested in O'Brian?" Elliot asked.
"He called me," Russell said simply.
"Why would O'Brian call you?" Casey asked, her arms folded in front of her.
"Why don't you let me talk to him first?" Russell replied with a smile.
Cragen nodded and motioned for Elliot to step aside so that Russell could enter the interrogation room. The entire squad watched as Russell and O'Brian talked animatedly.
"I can't believe it," Casey said so only Olivia could hear.
"Casey, he fooled you. He was good-looking, charming…"
"That's not it, Liv." Casey turned to look at Olivia, but a knock at the window interrupted her.
"Are you coming, Casey?" She turned to see Elliot standing by the door, waiting for her to make a move.
She sighed and moved toward the door. Elliot held it open for her and filed into the room after her. "I think you'd better explain yourself, Agent Russell," Casey said as Elliot pulled up a chair for her, a hostility creeping into her voice that startled even her.
Russell leaned back in his chair. "Jack is one of ours," he said.
Elliot's jaw hit the floor, and Casey's eyes widened. "What?"
Jack leaned forward. "My name isn't Jack O'Brian. It's Jack Calhoun."
"Jack Calhoun?" Elliot asked incredulously.
"I've been deep undercover for the past three years trying to build a RICO case on Sullivan and his cronies." He caught Casey's eye and tried to hold it. "I would have told you if I could have."
"How do we know he's telling the truth?" Elliot challenged.
"Call headquarters in Washington," Russell answered. "Jack's a decorated agent. I can provide you with the full case file when the trial starts. No surprises." Russell tossed a black I.D. holder onto the table. "This should hold you over until then."
Casey reached out and opened the wallet. Sure enough, the card had the name Jack Calhoun, FBI emblazoned on it with a picture of the man sitting across from her and a badge on the other side. "It's real," she whispered.
"What exactly is the McHale Company?" Elliot asked, sneaking a glance at Casey's shocked face.
Jack sighed. "It's a pyramid scheme. People put the cash into the company, and Sullivan funnels some of it to the IRA and keeps the rest himself. The families are left out in the cold. The Callahans figured it out and were going to go to the cops unless Sullivan paid them their share plus ten percent interest."
"And Miller?" Elliot asked, keeping his eyes fixed on Jack.
"Miller came down from Boston to take care of them."
Russell leaned forward in his seat. "Jack can give you his location, but he won't testify."
"There's no way to get a conviction without his testimony," Casey said icily.
"There's no way he'll live if he testifies," Russell argued.
"No!" Jack held up a hand, effectively cutting Russell off. "I'm testifying." He turned to face Russell, who shook his head in warning. "Sullivan'll kill me anyway for even talking to the cops. And he's been uncertain about me since I questioned the hit on the Callahans." Jack turned to face Elliot and Casey. "Miller told me he did it. And I know his location."
Elliot shoved a piece of paper and a pen toward him. "Write it down."
Jack scribbled an address on the paper and pushed it back toward Elliot. He silently picked it up and walked out the door, leaving Casey to stare at Jack dumbfounded.
Russell stood and clapped Jack on the back. "Let's go, Calhoun," he said quietly.
He shook his head, his eyes never leaving Casey. "I'd like to talk to ADA Novak alone."
"Jack, we've got to get you into cust—" Jack interrupted him with a glare. Russell held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, fine. I'll be waiting outside." He quietly left the room, closing the door behind him with a resounding bang.
Jack reached his hands across the table to take hold of Casey's, but she flinched and pulled away. He sighed resignedly. "Casey, I would have told you if I could. I couldn't risk it."
She bit her lip and allowed her eyes to finally meet Jack's. "I know," she whispered. "I understand that."
"You've got to believe I wanted to tell you everything."
"I wasn't exactly forthcoming about my profession either, was I?"
That got a smile out of him. "No, you weren't."
"Was any of it real?"
Jack sat back in his chair, startled. "What?"
Casey stood up and turned around to face the one-way mirror. "Was anything you told me real? All the stuff about growing up in Kentucky and playing ball and those stories from college?"
"Yes," he answered, slightly confused.
"Then the only thing you lied to me about was your name and profession? Or did you lie about your feelings for me too?"
Jack pushed back his chair and stood up, watching Casey's reflection in the glass. Was it just him, or was there a tear glistening on her cheek. "I never lied about my feelings for you," he said quietly. "Casey, I was going to call Russell tomorrow and tell him I was going to the cops with everything. I couldn't tell you tonight because I had to make sure they were going to provide me with protection."
"And the Callahan murders?" She whipped around to face him, eyes brimming with moisture.
"I swear I had nothing to do with them." He slowly started to walk toward her, fully expecting her to sucker-punch him in the face. God knew he deserved it. "Casey, I knew about them, but I swear I didn't do anything. I couldn't do anything." He sighed again. "God, I screwed up."
Casey couldn't resist a chuckle. "Yeah, you did."
He smiled at her. "At least we agree on something." He reached for her cheek, to wipe away the tear, but she moved her head away and slowly shook it. "I know you can't forgive me now. But I'm going to testify, in open court, to prove to you that I am not that guy that lied to you. And I'll never lie to you again. I care too much about you."
Finally she looked up, taking in his remorseful expression. "I've got a trial to prepare for," she said softly.
Jack nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. Casey couldn't hold back a laugh. "What?" he asked, confused again.
"You always put your hands in your pockets when you're nervous," she replied, giving him a small smile. "It's endearing."
A wide grin broke across his face. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he asked.
Her smile disappeared. "We'll see. After the trial."
He nodded again. "Fair enough." Jack moved toward the door and hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. He turned his head to look at the back of Casey's head. "You know why I was going to call it off?" He paused, waiting for a response, but Casey didn't even turn around. Finally, he whispered, "Because I was falling for you."
1897 W. Broad St
Queens, NY
Elliot, Olivia, and a dozen armed officers swarmed the tiny abandoned warehouse. Elliot held up his hand and whispered loudly, "One, two, three!"
On three, the closest officer kicked the door in, and it flew off its hinges into the room. Elliot rushed into the room, Olivia on his heels, and shouted, "NYPD!"
Olivia glanced around and saw a shadow dart toward a door on the other side of the room. "Miller! Police!"
Elliot dashed past her and out the door behind them. A couple hundred yards ahead, he spotted Miller sprinting toward another building nearby. "NYPD!" he shouted again. "Freeze!" Behind him, he heard a car roar to life and peel out away from him. He willed his powerful legs to keep moving, and he quickly gained on his subject.
Miller glanced back and picked up speed. But Elliot was too fast for him, despite Miller's larger size. He let out a loud oof as Elliot jumped forward and tackled him, tumbling the two of them to the pavement. Miller brought his fist forward in a powerful roundhouse, but once again, Elliot was too quick. As Olivia screeched to a halt next to them, Elliot blocked the punch with his right arm and socked him hard in the gut with his left. Miller doubled over, gasping for breath.
Breathing hard, Elliot dragged Miller up by his shirt as Olivia approached them with gun drawn. "Connor Miller," he panted, roughly turning him around so his back was facing Olivia. "You're under arrest for rape and murder." With that, he slapped the cuffs on Miller's wrists.
"Detectives!" A uniformed cop ran up to them, holding a large plastic evidence bag. "This was under the mattress in the warehouse."
Olivia took the bag from the cop and held it up in front of Miller's face. "Oh, look at that," she said. "A six-inch serrated blade. Same as the murder weapon."
"Never seen it before in me life," Miller said softly.
"Yeah? And how much you wanna bet we'll find your fingerprints all over it? Wonder if you'll be singin' a different tune." Elliot shoved him toward a couple of uniformed officers. "Get him outta here."
Olivia placed her hand on her partner's heaving back. "You okay?" she asked quietly.
He nodded and bent over at the waist, putting his hands on his knees. "Yeah. You know, he was right where Calhoun said he'd be."
Olivia looked at him sharply. "Are you ready to forgive him that easily for hurting Casey?"
He shrugged. "It's not like he had a choice. You've been undercover, you know how it goes. Besides, forgiveness is Casey's choice." He looked at his partner pointedly. "Not ours."