New Chapter everyone. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for the interest and reviews to date. These are very much appreciated.

Chapter 12

Jack came out of the Correctional Officers Rec. Room and dumped the contents of the waste bin into the container on the trolley Sloane was pushing. He returned the bin to the room and re-entered the corridor. By the time he returned Sloane and the trolley had moved on. They were waiting outside the door to the Control Centre. Sloane glanced towards him, his eyes asking a question, Jack blinked quickly, an almost imperceptible gesture but one he knew Sloane would pick up on. Sloane moved to the door and knocked.

"Garbage detail, Sirs." he called respectfully, "Here to empty the wastepaper bins."

Jack watched as the C.O.'s on duty looked through the bullet proof, shatterproof plexi-glass that made up one wall of the Control Centre. Recognising Sloane and himself, one of the guards buzzed open the door. Sloane went in, picked up a waste paper basket and began to slowly move round the room emptying the others into it. Jack remained outside. As a security measure only one inmate was permitted to be in the Control Centre at any one time. As usual, the C.O. who was guarding them, Officer Magruder, also remained outside. There were three guards on duty in the Centre and he obviously felt his priority was to keep an eye on the inmate remaining outside.

Jack leant over the trolley and put his hands inside the container, pretending to push down it's contents as he slipped a match from his shirt sleeve and surreptitiously flicked his thumbnail against its' head, the sound of his activity covered the noise as the match catching fire. He let it fall into the garbage and waited. Soon smoke was rising from the container.

"Damn it!" He glared at Officer Magruder, "One of your guys has been having illicit smokes in the Rec. Room. I saw the butts when I was emptying the bins but I thought they were out. One of them must have been smouldering and now look what's happened, its set light to the rest of the trash! You've got to sound the fire alarm, then we need an extinguisher."

Magruder looked uncertain. Jack knew what was going through his mind; in fact he and Sloane were relying on it. If he raised the alarm or used an extinguisher as regulations required, he would have to make an official report of the incident and, if Jack was telling the truth, a fellow guard would get into trouble for smoking inside a city building, which was a disciplinary offence. Magruder wouldn't want that if it could be avoided. Jack waved his hand, fanning the smoke outwards. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the guards in the Control Centre get up and move towards the glass separating them from the corridor to get a better view of what was going on. Sloane gave him an approving nod as he faded back towards one of the abandoned terminals.

Jack piled on the pressure, "Mr. Magruder, if you don't do something quickly this could turn into a major fire. It'll probably cost the City a lot of money to repair the damage and all sorts of questions are going to be asked."

"Stay here; don't move until I come back!" Magruder came to a decision. He ran down the corridor, disappearing into the C.O's Rest Room. Jack could hear the sound of a tap being turned on and water pouring into some sort of receptacle. Magruder was out of the way for the time being, now he had to keep the other guards busy until Sloane was finished.

He turned towards the glass wall, "Aren't you people aware of the health risks associated with smoking?" he asked conversationally. Behind the three officers, he could see Sloane hunched over one of the terminals, calmly clicking the mouse as he explored the system.

Best to keep talking to cover any noise, "So, who do you think was careless enough not to stub out their butt properly?" he asked.

"That's none of your concern, inmate." one of the guards, whose yellowing index and middle fingers indicated a potentially guilty conscience, told him coldly.

Flames were now beginning to lap over the sides of the bin. This didn't come as any surprise to Jack, he and Sloane had made sure there was plenty of paper and other combustibles in there before it was set alight. The show had to have plenty of visual interest to keep the onlookers attention; otherwise one of them might get bored and turn round to catch Sloane in the act.

"Bristow, stand away from the trolley and try not to inhale the smoke. You don't want to end up in the Infirmary." another guard ordered sharply.

Jack suspected the order had been given more from a wish to keep the incident quiet than any concern for his health but he complied with pleasure; he had to admit he was becoming a little uncomfortable breathing in the acrid fumes. He saw Magruder exit the Rest Room carrying a plastic bucket, obviously used for cleaning.

"Ah, here comes the Fire Department!" he called.

It was the code phrase he'd arranged with Sloane who stopped, erased the evidence of his activity, picked up the waste bin he'd been using and strolled over to stand behind the guards. "Well, at least it's something to talk to our daughters about next time they visit." he observed genially as Magruder poured the water into the flaming container, "You have no idea how difficult it is to find new topics of conversation when you've been incarcerated for nearly three months"

The fire began to smoulder but didn't go out completely. Magruder went back to refill his bucket while one of the Control Room guards turned to Sloane.

"Haven't you finished yet?" she asked. "Well, get on with it and get out." She nodded towards the bin in his hand, "Once you've emptied that, leave it outside and one of us will bring it in later."

"Yes, Ma'm." Sloane replied meekly, only Jack picking up the tinge of sarcasm in his response. He emptied the last basket and was buzzed out.

He and Jack stood and watched as Magruder finished putting out the fire. Once he was certain it was extinguished, he leant over and examined the black-brown sludge that now filed the container. With a grimace of disgust, he put his hand inside and lifted out several half smoked and now water-logged, cigarette butts. He looked at his colleagues in the Control Centre for a moment and an unspoken agreement was reached between them.

Turning towards Jack and Sloane, he said, "OK. It's out now, so no harm, no foul, understand? If either of you mention this; I will make it my personal objective to send both of you to the Hole. That means lock down 23/7 and no visits from those daughters of yours. You're smart, why do hard time if you don't have to?"

Jack and Sloane looked at each other.

"If that's what you want Mr. Magruder." Sloane answered.

Jack shrugged, "As you observed, no harm, no foul." he replied.

When Magruder's back was turned, they exchanged a satisfied smile.

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Serena Southerlyn closed the door to her apartment behind her. She felt tired but content. She had spent the last few hours working with Eduardo Alvarez and was reasonably satisfied that he would make a credible and damaging witness for the prosecution. His memory of the events leading to James Selzer's murder was excellent, even after thirty years. He sounded sure of his facts and, try as hard as she could; she had been unable to trip him up on any of them. She was certain he would stand up well to cross-examination providing he could control his emotions when he described the torture he and Selzer had endured and toned down his tendency to blame the United States rather than Bristow and Sloane for their suffering. She wasn't sure how that would play with a post 9/11 jury but she was working with him on it and he was making good progress.

She stooped to pick up her mail and walked into the kitchen. A nice fruit tea, then bed I think. She switched on the kettle and popped an apple and strawberry teabag into a mug, leafing through the letters as she waited for the kettle to boil. Bill, bill, junk mail, letter from Aunt Caroline, more junk mail… hello what's this? She looked down at a brown, hard backed, large envelope. It was clearly addressed to her but the writing was in block capitals and she didn't recognise the handwriting. She inserted her fingernail under the seal and lifted it, then extracted the contents.

Serena stared in horror at the first of five 8''X61/2'' glossy photographs. It showed her and Jenny Gardiner, her current lover, in a restaurant. The two of them were reaching across the table to hold hands. She quickly checked the others, they were all of her with Jenny and, while none showed them being intimate, there was one of them kissing passionately and it was clear from the others that they were considerably more than just good friends. Somebody had been stalking her and taking pictures of her meetings with Jenny! She dived for the envelope and looked inside, it was empty, no note, nothing. She turned the pictures over and examined their backs. They were blank.

She sat back ignoring the kettle as it boiled and switched itself off. Who had sent these to her and why? The 'why' was easy, it had to be extortion. But, in that case, there should be a note. For a moment, she considered the possibility that she had been targeted by some radical organisation and this was their way of warning her to go public with her sexuality before they outed her. However, it was much more likely to be related to a case she was working. She ran through the possibilities, Mendes? A cheap street hood who didn't have the brains or the resources for this sort of play, a knife or a gun was more his and his associates style. The Wilmington case? No, Mrs. Wilmington had the intelligence and the money to arrange this, but she was impatient, that was why she got caught. She would have included her demands with the pictures.

In fact, she was currently working on only one case where the defendants had the intelligence, the resources and the expertise to exert his kind of subtle pressure, Bristow and Sloane. No doubt they learn this kind of thing at spy school, she thought dully and I bet they've honed their skills over the years flipping enemy agents and government officials. This is just a beginning. They'll follow up with other photographs, no doubt showing even more intimate moments between Jenny and me; then when they think I've been softened up enough, they'll make their demands.

I should report this, she thought. There might be fingerprints on the envelope or forensics might be able to lift some DNA from the flap if it was licked down, heck, even the postmark could provide a clue! She got up and was about to make for the phone, when she stopped. What's going to be Arthur Branch's reaction when he finds out I'm a lesbian? He's a Republican and a Texan. Neither are exactly big on alternative sexuality. Oh, he can't fire me, or even demote me because of my sexual orientation but there was that case last year in Nebraska, when a Republican D.A. fired an A.D.A. after he found out she was gay. He said it was because she'd screwed up on a case. When the woman sued, the court upheld the firing despite her showing straight A.D.A's had made similar errors and gotten away with formal reprimands.

But if I don't report it; they'll probably send the pictures to him anyway. The alternative is to compromise my professional and personal integrity and give in to the blackmail. What am I going to do? If only Nora was still DA or even Adam Schiff, I'd feel a lot safer in taking this to them. I could tell Jack but he'd have to report it to Branch so that's not a solution either!

Her head was still spinning when she got, up and went to her bedroom, totally ignoring the empty mug and rapidly cooling kettle. She lay beneath the covers but sleep wouldn't come.

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"What do you think?" Nadia twirled, showing off her new strapless black dress, lightly decorated in silver filigree.

Sydney looked up from the dressing table and gave her sister an appreciative smile, "You look great!" She stood up to reveal her own dress, classic black with a low but tasteful neckline, "What about me?"

Nadia grinned, "We'll be the belles of the ball!"

There was a knock on the bedroom door and Vaughn's voice called, "Are you ready? Can we come in?"

"Sure!" Sydney replied and Vaughn and Weiss entered; both were dressed smart-casual.

"Well." Weiss remarked, running his eyes over Nadia. "I'm going to be the envy of every guy in New York tonight!"

"WE'RE going to be the envy of every guy in New York." Vaughn corrected him, taking in Sydney's appearance. "Shall we go?" He offered her his arm, playfully.

"Just one more thing." Sydney said. "Comms check. One, two, three, four."

"Receiving you loud and clear Phoenix." Marshall's cheerful voice sounded over their earpieces loud and clear from L.A.

Sydney nodded, "Now we're ready. Let's go and play bait for whoever's been following Nadia and me."

"Remember, even if you see them, you're not to engage." Dixon's warm tones came over the comms units. "The purpose of this exercise is for our tails to make an I.D., then follow them. We need to know who's behind this."

"We know that." Sydney replied. She looked at the others, "Right. Let's go."

They followed her out of the room.

T.B.C.

Glossary

The Hole – slang term for punishment cells in a prison.