Vegas Blues: I See a Darkness8

"You were a hero. Saved the world several times over."

John sat in the car. Not his car. His was too recognizable, too visible. No, this was a derelict wreck that was sitting along the street with some others. Abandoned. Even the wheels were gone. The interior was dirty, rusting. A perfect hiding place as the setting sun sent shadows along this side of the street. Concealing both him and the team lurking. All waiting. Waiting for the suspects to take the bait. To round them up before anyone else got hurt. Or worse.

Hendricks had put John in charge of the whole operation, surprising both him and everyone on the squad. This was a big chance the captain was taking. A big risk. A big opportunity and John could feel his palms sweating at the thought of it. Especially if something went wrong. But John couldn't let any self doubt assail him now. He had planned this out as best he could. The time. The location. The position of the squads of policemen. Of himself. Of Rodney who was in another car, waiting.

John had given the orders. Apprehend all suspects. Deadly force only if necessary. Aiden was to be arrested along with the rest. If there was a secret sympathizer in Rodney's organization the guy would be here. The spy would be revealed. So John waited. Waited. LVPD all around, unseen. Unheard. Waiting for his express command, and his only.

Inside Vincent's the bait was positioned. Visible from the grimy window of the office. There was only one way in and one way out. A pastiche created by Evan from the scan of the creature's skull. A 3-D rendering of the sketch he had made. What he had imagined the creature to look like when it had been alive. It was pretty close to the actual thing, from what John could dimly recall. John was forced to admire the other man's skills.

The model moved a little. John had positioned it as if the creature was sitting, waiting. Making it slightly wobble as if alive. In no distress. The added white wig was a snarl of tangles and only added to the illusion of motion.

"Motion. Three o'clock," sounded a voice in his hear.

"Acknowledged. Do not engage until all targets are acquired. On my mark," John quietly ordered. Wiped his sweaty hands on his thighs. Felt the solid surety of the gun at his hip.

"John? When–"

"Soon. Wait for my mark, Rodney," John stated. Cutting off the scientist.

The long shadows obscured them, but then they were visible. Gathering in twos and threes, all clad alike in black hoodies and jeans. Trying to move surreptitiously but appearing so obviously suspect that John almost laughed. Amateurs. He watched them converge on the office. Talking, gesticulating. There was some argument as another one joined them. They began to enter the building. Nervous glances darting all around them.

"Now," John said quietly. Got out of the car. Immediately policemen emerged from their hiding places. Rushing towards the building. Flashing badges, waving batons.

"LVPD! Everybody down on the ground!"

There were shouts, yells. People scattering but they were trapped in the only doorway leading in and out. Rounded up easily and lined up, on their knees, hands on their heads. Hoodies drawn off them to reveal stunned, angry faces.

John walked along them, but to his disappointment Ford was not among them. He turned as Rodney approached. "Any of these yours?"

"I told you, there is no way we have a moll in our..." Rodney's strenuous objection fell into silence as he stared at one of the suspects. She was a young woman. Blond hair messed by the hood. Wide eyes locked in surprise, then anger. She stared as Rodney moved to her, utter disbelief on his face. "It can't be...you...you?" John eyed the woman. Recognizing her suddenly.

"Yes, me!" Jennifer Keller moved to her feet. "What we're doing is wrong, Rodney! They are superior beings from another galaxy! We should be learning from them, not torturing them! Learning about their superior technology, not persecuting them!"

John winced at the whiny tone, the grating voice. The only thing worse would be nails on a chalkboard. Others were staring at her outburst, her outlandish words. "Take them away," he ordered. "Some insane cult about space aliens. But we got 'em now."

"Jen? You can't be serious! They feed on us!" Rodney exclaimed, shocked. Forgetting they had an audience, however disbelieving.

"Is that any different from what we do to our own?" she challenged.

"Take her away," John snarled, as Rodney seemed frozen. Incapable of making a decision. "What a piece of work that one is. And she works with you?"

Rodney blinked. Watched her being herded into the van with the others. "It's worse than that. She's my, my wife."

"Wow," John commented. Surprised. "I never would have imagined that. I could picture you with someone else, say like that botanist in that diner, remember? You'd be good with her."

"It was, once, before the...huh?" Rodney blinked. Met John's gaze. "And all the ascended women want you but you ended up all alone in the end."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I don't know why I said that."

"Well, there's your spy. And your facility is safe now."

"Yes, thank you. Have you considered my job offer?"

"Yeah, I was thinking of quitting my day job and becoming a honey tycoon."

"What?"

"Nothing." He looked round. The street was emptying. The suspects all locked in the police van. The police moving to their cars. John entered the building. Grabbed the model and carried it under his arm. Having no idea what to do with it. He joined Rodney in the street and the two men strolled along the shadows. "I just wish Ford had showed. I still need to find him."

"He'll contact you again. Now that he knows you know you may be his only lead to get more enzyme, or so he thinks."

"Let's hope so. I hate having loose ends."

"Or sappy endings that make no sense at all," Rodney commiserated. "San Francisco?" he muttered under his breath.

The two men parted. John headed for his car. Whirled hearing someone following him. He relaxed as Hendricks stepped out of the shadows. Stepped to him. "Sir?"

"That was good work, Sheppard. If you're not careful you might be up for a promotion."

"Me?" John scoffed. "Not likely."

"You never know," Hendricks said with a smile.

John shrugged. Resumed heading for his car. The bust was a success. Not a shot had been fired. The spy had been revealed. Things were going well. Why then did John feel so glum? He felt trapped like a bee in amber, unable to move until he could fully remember the events six months ago. Unable to make a decision. He smiled at the comparison. It made him think of Moira. He wanted to see her. But something prevented him. Certainly not Evan's warning but something else. Indefinable. As if taking this one chance would alter his life irrevocably, but in a good way for a change.

It bothered him, this gap in his memory. On which everything seemed to hinge. He sighed. Looked up to see Chuck near his car. He inwardly cursed. "Why am I not surprised?"

Chuck smiled. "A big bust went down, but what exactly was it about, detective? No one seems to know. I want the scoop, Sheppard. Like, for instance, what the hell is that under your arm?"

John had forgotten about the model of the head. Lost in himself. He scowled. Unlocked his car and threw the model onto the back seat. "None of your business, Campbell."

"Come on, Shep! Word is you rounded up a bunch of drug-addicted religious nuts who were in some kind of cult worshiping endangered species and space aliens, of all things? Care to comment?"

"That's true."

"What? Really?" Chuck stared, amazed. "Wow. What was the cult? Who was the leader? What was the target? Is this related to the Vegas Vampire?" He held out a digital recorder. Eager for the story, the scoop. Envisioning his name on the cover, under the headline.

"Your source is under arrest, yeah, that Keller chick, so the story is over, Chuck. Go back to writing obituaries. Better yet, go back to telemarketing. That was your first job, wasn't it?"

John smiled. Drove away, leaving a stunned Chuck to stare after him.