Chapter 2: He said WHAT?
Why was he even surprised by this outcome?
He knew that if anything, John Munch, was always a man of his word.
In all of their years together in the unit as partners and now outside of the workplace as real life-partners, the Jewish man had never failed to amaze Odafin Tutuola; a veteran cop from narcotics who had been saddled with the conspiracy shouting lank of a man. He had left the surprises behind when his son came out to him in his youth and much to his own chagrin, coming out as well.
'The apple never really does fall that far from the tree' John had laughed at his grown son, Ken Randall's, reaction to admitting they were in fact living partners.
The news had his son congratulating though seeming almost not trusting his own word; but could he be blamed? The elder could hardly be found truthful or trustworthy to his own child growing up and even less to accepting his preferences in partners.
Yet Fin did know someone who would always cover his ass. It was the one man who, even taking a bullet to the ass, would not die.
It was almost cliché that they winded up tangled in this lifestyle together. That snarky mouth only making him want to shut it up and only thing possible was with his own seal: a kiss.
It would never last. His victory.
John always had a way of convincing him or others to see things his way. It was an endearing characteristic that replaced the stern expression on his normally neutral face to one of gentleness that most hardly saw at recalling the man.
The look was really reserved for John one would say. He would never have the patience to let anyone else push all of his buttons to a point he would shoot them out of annoyance.
It was this very expression that garnered him a look from his new Sergeant who just strolled into the precinct.
Fin's first impression of this man: A spoiled 'daddy's' boy that would lean back on his father's tailcoats and parading around like a peacock. Perhaps it was old age or just his own stereotyping that blinded him, yet if he had to say, Mike Dodds was far from his father.
A strapping young man with so many prospects he, himself, had long given up; including the Sergeant status both Olivia and John had pushed him to pursue.
What was the use of a title? If he arrested the man who killed an old woman for her medicines or the pedophile molesting five-year-old girls on the playground and made them feel safe, that was his reward. His purpose of being.
The young man with the clear eyes, head-strong personality and can do attitude could conflict at times with the rest of the way the team ran but it blended in their mesh.
His musings pulled away by said fellow's amused voice and curious expression.
"You seem to be in a good mood this morning, Fin."
"Well Sergeant, what can I say? It has been a pretty good morning." The New York native mused in return and dimming his screen to black.
A small sigh and a black satchel settled onto a chair almost exasperatingly. The material made of the very best, not a scrounging poor fellow in the slightest Fin noted lightly to himself.
"I told you to call me Mike."
"Sorry Dodds, you haven't been here long enough to earn first name stats." And promptly turned back to his phone to re-read his text message from John.
JM: -Morning!-
FT: -….What is it?-
JM: -Aren't you so damn cheerful.-
FT: -…..You know mornings ain't my style….-
JM: -Much like a lot of things that most natural humans would consider a GOOD thing.-
FT: -Did you NEED something DARLING?-
JM: -Okay okay, no need to go all 'darling' on me, geez.-
That point Fin had to stop and laugh with a shake of his head. They were definitely of an older sort. To use pet names was to be almost insulting and insinuating anger or frustration; it basically was never used between them in terms of affection but the opposite. He supposed it definitely made them compatible.
He recalled once when he had confronted John about his feelings and love was more than a workplace partner, he had confessed: "Where have you been all my life?"
"I've been here all along, you Dumbass, you just gotta open your beady eyes and wipe the smirk of your face." The smirk had been from not denying him and letting them share in a moment that was a fond memory.
Back to reading the messages to make sure it was not a mistake or figment.
JM: - ANYWAY! Yes, I got what you need. –
FT: -….You know, I could totally make that NSFW with that set up. –
JM: - For you to know what "NSFW" means at all makes me expect that comeback now.-
FT: -Reading an hour of a teen's text message and having to look up all that shitty lingo guess it stuck. –
JM: -I plan to take full advantage of that. LATER. Fin, focus.-
FT: - You texted me, you focus.-
JM: - I swear, why do I stand you?-
FT: - You can't see my face but that's MY line!-
JM: - Anyway, back to it. I got Barba to agree! It was insane, I didn't even think my powers of persuasion would be enough. You owe me big time!-
This was where Fin had stopped responding to process the surprise.
A quick glance around to see that Olivia had not come in yet, probably taking her son Noah, to daycare personally and lingering like a doting mother she was. The elder man took to his feet swiftly as he trailed to grasp onto Dodd's arm to yank with him.
"Carisi, come!"
The young Staten Island native was just stepping foot off of the elevator and into the room when he heard his name spoken. He knew very well how quickly their line of work needed to be and did not even move to question as his feet detoured his desk towards one of the squad rooms used to debrief victims or their families.
Closing the door behind him, Sonny Carisi turned to gaze over to his seniors and commanding officers as he set his own bag and coffee down onto the table.
"Morning guys."
"It was a decent one till Fin dragged me half-assed in here. What was that about anyway?" Mike had a confused undertone as he rubbed his left bicep. It seemed the man had a good grip; probably years of tangoing with perps and suspects.
The African-American would wave his hand for them to speak in lighter tones considering this was only between the three of them.
It seemed that the blue-eyed man who just got into the picture was more on the ball than his counterpart on the other side of the room who stood with crossed arms.
"You got news on Project Heaven, Fin?"
This statement had Mike Dodds full attention back. Both pairs of eyes gazing unwavering and needing details.
"Yeah. Munch said he got the last piece we needed."
"Wait seriously?" Dodds chimed in disbelief at the firm nod he received.
The trio of troublemakers as so affectionately named by Olivia when she caught them whispering over a box of pizza. She only believed them to playing rock, paper, scissors for the last slice and only thought the three men childish; when in actuality they had caught wind of this case from a friend of Fin's in narcotics.
The case was a band of socialites: from lawyers to CEOs of thriving stock-bond companies attending this club called, 'El cielo en la tierra' – Literal translation of "Heaven on Earth" which catered sex slaves and bondage of underage boys of Hispanic descent. These boys were abandoned once they crossed the borders from their homeland in South or Central America only to be picked up by traders. Narcotics caught wind of the slave trade through a fledgling with a very loose tongue. He spoke of these boys, whose ages ranged from 5-15, spoke little to no English, and trained from the beginning to obey only the masters of the club – basically its patrons.
Their meetings would be secret and only by invitation would one be able to attend even an initiate consultation to see where preferences lied.
It was so nauseating to believe men of wealth and privilege had nothing better to do than to squander said spoils on poor unfortunate children who were tossed to America for a better life.
Fin recruited Dodds for his cover and his credentials to pull strings if they needed higher up and Carisi for his passion to help the victims without giving away his humanity. He always played it up well when undercover so he would be useful. Amanda Rollins, who just returned back from maternity leave about a week ago; was catching up on her reports on an otherwise slow start of this week and it was best to leave her to them. So they had to organize everything to present to Olivia to get the true clearance of what they were about to unfold. After all, half of the men ensnared were men of prestige or diplomatic ties that would cause scandals.
It required a finesse that they knew they all lacked. Sonny had a mouth on him not to mention the accent of a true New Yorker and Dodds who was headstrong and had to stray from the pack to prove a point.
So when Fin took this folder home, Munch looked it over and ever the profiler, surmised the reasoning of getting someone who knew the ins and outs of the "fancier folks" and knew how to seem inconspicuous. It would not hurt if they spoke Spanish to communicate efficiently.
The list of who they could refer to had been even shorter than the first…that is until John suggested their recently assigned ADA, Rafael Barba.
He fit the profile like a glove!
His Cuban heritage and poor upbringing gave him perspective of a victim, his language skills clearly noted and of course the fact he now traveled in social circles of the New York's finest; it gave him the edge no one else had.
The problem was – they had to recruit him. The Hispanic attorney had the tongue of a viper sometimes and sharp as a knife, he would outright call them crazy.
So he had sent his partner in crime and life to do the deed. Fin honestly believed him to be a failure in getting the man who was known to make grown men hyperventilate on the witness stand agree to such a scheme and plan.
A hope was presented to them that he was not going to pass up.
The gleam reflecting in his smile that was jagged and crooked as came with age, peeking to them and showing the text message as proof.
"We got 'im. We got our 'winning card' in the deck."
Sonny blinked his eyes in surprise as he knew that the attorney was many things; but definitely not one to really dirty his hands and go out into the field. It seemed that Mike mimicked his thoughts as his mouth opened agape.
"He said what now?"
"The plan is in motions fellas, no more time to waste." His hand clapped onto Dodds' shoulder to pull him from his musings before laughing at them both from the surprise. After all, neither of them knew John Munch as well as he, himself did; and it seem their ADA was not falling that far from the tree.
To be continued…..