Chapter 14

The metal panel covering the narrow observation window clanged open. "On your feet, Bristow, the Captain wants to speak to you." the guard tersely ordered.

Jack rose from the poured concrete ledge that was the only furniture in the Special Housing Unit's cells and strolled over to the door.

"Yes?" he asked calmly.

Although the cell and the corridor outside were in semi darkness, he could just about make out the vague outlines of the man outside's features through the thick, reinforced glass. His rank insignia, however, gleamed brightly on his shoulders. Well, we've finally got O'Brien's personal attention he thought.

The other man paused, obviously carefully considering his words.

"Why did you beat up on your co-defendant? Before this morning the two of you seemed closer than an old married couple." he finally asked.

Jack's face remained an impassive mask as he replied, "Personal reasons."

Captain O'Brien gave a harsh bark, "They must have been! My officers tell me as soon as they appeared, you stepped back and let them 'cuff you and bring you down here."

"Sloane understands why I did it; he also knows that the matter is now closed." Jack said.

"And what exactly was this matter causing you to beat the hell out of a guy you've known for over thirty years?"

Jack's response was calm but determined, "As I've already said, it was a private matter between Sloane and myself that how now been resolved. I have no intention of revealing the details to anyone else."

"So when he gets out of the Infirmary and you get out of here, you're just goanna' kiss and make up? I don't think so Mister! This is a prison, MY prison. There's nothing private and personal in here, especially when it interferes with good order and discipline." O'Brien's tone was harsh, level and equally determined, "I've had my eye on the two of you since you came in and let me tell you this. You will stay here in the Hole, with loss of all privileges, until I get some answers!"

The Captain stood back and the panel crashed shut in Jack's face, leaving him alone in the bare, badly lit cell. Jack shrugged and once more went to sit on the ledge composing himself for a long wait. He wondered how Sloane was progressing with his part of the operation. Hopefully I didn't hurt him so badly as to interfere with his ability to carry it out!

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"Thank you Warden." Jack McCoy put down the phone and turned to Serena Southerlyn, his expression thoughtful.

"That was Assistant Warden Morrison from Riker's Island." he reported. "Apparently Bristow has just beaten up on Sloane, putting him in the prison Infirmary with a suspected concussion."

"A falling out?" Serena kept her face and tone neutral but inside her heart beat faster as she wondered what, if any, effect this development would have on her situation.

McCoy sat back and began tapping his pen on the desk. "That's how it looks." he said.

Serena tried to act naturally, as if this was just another case. "You think one may be willing to flip on the other now?"

"I don't know, Serena. The question is; do we need them anymore? After what they did to James Selzer I don't want either of them to get a walk and now we've got Rodriguez's testimony as well as Alvarez we can put them both away for twenty five to life. The only way I'd offer either a deal is if they were prepared to give me their boss and the fact they've fallen out with each other doesn't mean they've changed their mind on that."

He can to a decision, "It won't do any harm to find out. Contact their attorneys and make appointments for us to see them."

Serena pushed down her rising panic at the thought to facing the two men who were trying to blackmail her and nodded. "OK, Jack." she said. As she moved to comply, she wondered how Briscoe and Green were doing trying to trace the envelope.

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"Any joy, Doc.?" Lennie Briscoe asked.

"No fingerprints, either inside or out." 'Doc' Rawlings, who handled most of the 29th Precinct's crime scene work, responded. "The envelope is mass produced, cheap and available from almost any stationer's store in the city. No DNA on the flap or stamp. The postmark is Lower Manhattan, good luck trying to track it through one of the busiest sorting offices' in the nation!"

"So you got nada?" Green clarified.

Rawlings' face broke into a grin. "I didn't say that! I got a couple of our eager beaver trainees to work on it. One of them noticed some indentations on the back. Someone had used it to lean on when they were writing. We put it under a microscope and brought the words up. It was a partial name and address. Here's a photo. "

Briscoe looked down, "It looks like an address." he noted. "Pod… something or maybe something …Pod of something E 61st and something Street." he read. His voice took on a sarcastic tone, "Thanks Doc. Do you know how many places that could be?"

Rawlings shrugged, "Hey, you were lucky we got that much. If this trainee hadn't been so alert, chances are it would have been missed completely."

"You do good work Doc." Green assured him, "That's why we came to you with this. Lennie and I owe you one and remember, not a word to anyone."

"Yeah, but you've really got my imagination working overtime! As for the favour, I'll collect, Ed, believe me, I'll collect." Rawlings replied as the two detectives left the lab.

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Arvin Sloane lay on his bed in the Infirmary pretending to be asleep. Either I'm getting old or Jack hit a bit harder than strictly necessary - possibly both! he thought. He was relieved that the pain from the beating was finally beginning to subside and that the medical personnel had identified his allergy to morphine. Or maybe they don't think criminals deserve the luxury of painkillers he added cynically.

He was in a ward holding ten beds but, apart from himself, only three were currently occupied. A female nurse sat at a station at the far end. Although the lighting was subdued, it was bright enough for her to see any movement by her patients.

That's inconvenient; if we make our move from here we may have to subdue her. On the other hand, she must take a break sometime or just need to answer a call of nature. The other patients will also need to be neutralised. Alternatively, we may be able to use them to create a diversion he mused.

Another complication was the glass partition which reached halfway down the wall with the corridor, allowing the duty guard to check on the status of the ward and its inmate patients when he made his rounds. Sloane had kept an eye on the wall mounted clock and calculated that he passed by every thirty minutes of so.

Making our move during the day may be a better option he thought, more activity, more people. Our activities would go unnoticed for a longer period. I think I'll extend my stay to observe the day time routine fully.

Besides, he thought, spending another day in the Infirmary had other advantages. Soft beds, clean, freshly laundered sheets, better food and comparative peace and quiet, almost a vacation! He spared a thought for Jack sitting in the Hole. Oh well, I gave him the choice of which role to play. It's a good thing I was right, and he preferred hitting me to a couple of days of comparative luxury!

As he considered the implications of this for their continuing relationship, the sound of jangling keys turning in a lock interrupted his thoughts. He turned his eyes towards the door and watched as the guard slowly opened it and quietly crept in. The nurse looked up and greeted him with a smile before getting up and embracing him. Sloane watched as they kissed passionately, then, after casting watchful eyes towards the four patients, made their way towards the storeroom.

Well, well, well. he thought. A prison romance! He checked the clock and settled down to see how long it would take them to consummate their passion.

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Sydney and Nadia crept through the abandoned warehouse. Breaking in had been easy. There were only two watchmen on duty. It was a cold night and they were holed up in the warmth on their cabin, taking occasional pulls from their hip flasks.

As missions went, this was the equivalent of a routine training exercise and she would have enjoyed it more if the outcome hadn't been so personal and the relationship between her and her sister had been less tense.

Sydney remembered the discussion at the CIA Manhattan officer earlier in the day.

"…once he was relieved, we followed him back to a warehouse in the Red Hook district of Brooklyn." Dixon's tones came over the loudspeaker in Director Healy's office. "The warehouse and attached office space is owned and operated by an import-export business, Schirovsky Trading, specialising in dealings with the former Soviet Union. We're running a check on the company and its senior personnel now."

Sydney, Nadia, Vaughn, Weiss and Director Healy sat listening to his report.

"There's no need." Director Healy replied. "The outfit's already known to me. It's owned by a guy called Anatoly Schirovsky. He was a low level freelance operative during the Cold War. When that ended, so did his usefulness to us. Nowadays he concentrates on his legitimate business with a little smuggling of caviar and vodka on the side."

"With respect Director, I doubt he was following Sydney and Nadia because he was worried they'd interfere with his caviar smuggling ring. He's clearly still in the spy game." Vaughn pointed out.

Healy nodded. "Yes. But I doubt he's the person behind all this. If I know Schirovsky he's just doing the job for money. I'll have him brought in and interrogated but if the person who employed him is a pro,. they'll probably have dealt with him through cut outs."

Sydney frowned, "If we do that, it might alert whoever's employing him and make it more difficult to trace them. I say we break in and look around. There might be leads in his office or on his computer that we can follow up."

Healy played with his pen.

"I don't know." he said, "You'll be walking into the lion's den. For all we know, that's exactly what they want. What if you're caught? Your fathers would never forgive me. I know them both by reputation and, believe me, I was a field agent for over ten years but I do not want to feel the wrath of either Jack Bristow or Arvin Sloane! I'm not against the plan in principle; I just think it would be better to send in other agents."

"It's the weekend before the holidays." Nadia pointed out impatiently. "There's no evidence they know we're on to them and this close to Christmas, their security is likely to be quite relaxed. Sydney and I have carried out much more difficult operations."

"I'm sure you already know that Ms Bristow and Ms Santos are both trained and experienced agents." Weiss added. "Agent Vaughn and I will act as backup."

"Err... excuse me." Marshall's voice sounded apologetic. "But this is also an opportunity to bug Schirovsky's telephone. That's got to be a good thing."

Healy turned towards the loudspeaker, "Acting Director Dixon?" he asked.

"Let them do it." Dixon's voice answered. "If you don't, they'll go in anyway."

"Alright." Healy decided. "Go over to op-tech and get what you need."

He ended the call as the younger agents began to file out. As they stood in the doorway to the office, the phone rang and he picked it up. After listening for a moment, he called out.

"Ms. Bristow, Ms. Santos, please stay behind for a minute."

Nadia and Sydney returned to the seats they had just vacated and sat waiting while Healy listened, his face becoming graver by the second. Finally he said "Thank you, Thirly." and hung up.

He turned to Sydney, "That was your Father's attorney." he explained. Then he caught Nadia's eye and brought her into the conversation. "I'm sorry, there's no easy way of breaking this to you. Ms. Bristow, your Father is in solitary confinement with loss of all privileges after beating up on Ms Santos' Father. He refuses to explain why he did it to anyone, including his lawyer. Ms Santos will be able to visit her Father in the Infirmary at the prison, but I'm afraid, you will not be permitted to see yours Ms. Bristow while he remains under punishment."

T.B.C.