Chapter 17
"Forty seven individuals and seven businesses containing the syllable POD in their names, it doesn't exactly narrow the field!" Ed Green complained as he continued checking them against police databases.
"We're looking for someone with a connection to Serena Southerlyn." His partner reminded him. "And, judging from the way she's acting, it ain't her first love or some long lost college classmate. Look for guys' she's prosecuted or someone unhappy with how a case turned out."
"If she's being threatened, why doesn't she just report it? She knows how seriously we take threats against D.A.'s and judges. We could be working on it 24/7, not just in our free time!"
"Yeah, I was wondering about that too!" Lennie Briscoe replied. "When we find the scumbag, we can ask him."
They worked in silence for a while until Briscoe spoke. "I think I got something! Melvin Zipodi, Apartment 4C, 244 E61 Street. Arrested in 2001 for criminal trespass and violation of a restraining order. He got two years probation and a fine of $2000."
Ed Green keyed in the name and studied the information. "But Hyatt was the ADA in that case!" he pointed out.
"Sure, but Zipodi described himself on the arrest report as a PI and look who his lawyer was, Jerry Shapiro. Now the attorney for Arvin Sloane! That's way too much of a coincidence."
Ed considered, "So you think this has something to do with the Selzer case. Could be; those Company guys play rough and dirty. But why work through some sleazy private investigator when you've got the entire CIA to call on?"
Bricoe looked at him. "Like I was saying earlier, let's go ask Zipodi." he said.
The two men shrugged on their jackets and overcoats and left the Detective Bureau.
"Mr Alvarez, you're a Chilean citizen, correct?
"Yes."
"You're also a communist, aren't you?"
"I am a socialist." The frail old man replied with quiet dignity. He sat on a hard chair in the corner of the motel room while Serena paced the floor between the door and the bed.
At the moment, this was the last place she wanted to be but on her way home, she'd remembered she'd arranged this prep session. She'd debated whether to cancel but decided against it. If she had, Jack McCoy would want to know why. The best thing she could do at the moment was to try to carry on as if nothing was wrong even as every nerve in her body was stretched tight with tension.
She continued pacing, "You came to this country in 1990. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"What is your occupation?"
"I am currently unemployed."
"I see… Have you ever worked since coming here?"
"No. My state of health prevents me."
"Ah yes, your poor health; the result of your alleged torture by the Pinochet regime. At least according to you!" Serena sneered. "But you were fit enough to violently assault and stab a man only a few months ago were you not?"
She could see Alvarez struggling to control himself but he answered factually as she'd taught him, "Yes."
She continued to press, "So, let's see if I've got this right. You're a left wing agitator and convicted violent felon who has been living on state handouts ever since this country offered you asylum and protection!"
Alvarez lost control. He spat out a stream of Spanish at her, his voice rising as he became angrier. Serena couldn't understand most of what he was saying but recognised some of the words as casting aspersions on herself and her parents. She waited until his outburst was spent, then went over, sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand.
"I'm sorry, Mr Alvarez. Please believe me when I say I don't want to insult you but the defence will go after you hard. These are the sort of questions they'll be asking and you have to be prepared to handle them."
The elderly man closed his eyes and finally nodded. Serena saw he was exhausted and decided to call it a night. She once again reassured Alvarez, said her farewells and walked out of the room into the parking lot. She had just reached her car when her cell rang. She checked the caller ID and saw it was Jenny, then hesitated for a long moment. Finally, she hit the call receipt button and listened as Jenny's cheerful voice invited her over for a meal and a few glasses of wine. What she planned for after was unsaid but understood by them both.
Serena glanced towards the briefcase, lying on the back seat of her car. "Jenny…I'm sorry." she said slowly, "but I don't think I can make it. You know I've got this big case on at the moment…it's taking every waking moment I have. In fact, I'm sorry but I'll probably be too busy to see you until it's over."
She heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end, Jenny knew a brush off when she heard one. Serena ended the call, got into the driving seat of her car and collapsed sobbing over the wheel.
Weiss stood watching as Nadia unpacked in her new hotel room. She was an experienced traveller and went about the business quickly and efficiently, only the banging and slamming of drawers and closets displaying her emotional state. She stopped and checked her clothing.
"I left my purple peasant's blouse behind. It was being laundered."
"I'll pick it up for you tomorrow." Weiss promised.
Nadia nodded and continued her unpacking.
He tried to re-open the conversation about her moving out, hoping she wouldn't bite his head off like before, "Nadia, you're sure about this? Syd was only trying to look out for you."
Nadia had obviously calmed down somewhat because she now appeared willing to at least discuss the situation.
"Sydney is obsessed with my father. She accused him of being behind the people tailing us based on nothing but prejudice and assumptions. I know he has hurt her but I cannot stay with her if she keeps insulting him all the time."
Weiss sighed, he'd agreed to try and mend fences but Nadia was as stubborn as her sister. "Whoever is behind this, isn't it better for you both to stay together and watch each other's backs?" he suggested.
"I didn't want to leave but staying would have been disloyal to my father. If Sydney apologises I will return." Nadia announced, disappearing into the bathroom with her toiletries.
Weiss gave up, "OK, but I'm staying here tonight."
Nadia popped her head out of the bathroom, her temper seemingly considerably improved by his offer. She gave him an impish grin. "I thought you'd never ask." she said.
Weiss gave her a surprised look which rapidly turned to ecstasy. "You mean? Wow!" The look remained as he carefully checked the security of the windows and doors.
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Jack slowly returned to consciousness and reconnoitred his surroundings. Good, I'm in the Infirmary! The lighting was subdued so he assumed it was late evening or even night time. There were four other patients, besides himself. All appeared to be sleeping. He recognised no-one except Sloane, who was in the occupied bed furthest from him, lying on his side with his head turned in Jack's direction. Although his eyes were closed, Jack didn't make he mistake of thinking he was actually asleep. The man he'd once known might have been buried by his obsession with Rambaldi but he remained a consummate professional. Jack fought down his feelings of loss. Sloane had been his closest friend and the best partner he'd ever had, their skills, abilities and personalities both overlapping and complementing each other. The months genuinely working together again at APO had been good, marred only by what he had done to Irina and his constant concern that Sloane was working to some hidden agenda.
He turned towards the nurse's station. It was staffed by a woman. Her desk lamp was on and she was busy writing. Pretty girl he thought, pity she's made herself look so severe. He mentally checked his condition. His neck was sore but he was breathing easily enough. His head ached but he'd completed missions feeling a lot worse. The pain seemed concentrated in one particular area and he tried to bring up his hand to feel it. He glanced down and saw he was handcuffed to the bed. He experimented with the other hand and found that to be free. He gently felt the area where the pain was concentrated, it was covered by a dressing and he winced as the ache increased as his fingers probed it. Strange, I don't remember hitting my head. I wonder how that happened?
His activity had alerted the nurse who was now looking in his direction. Time to confirm my return to the land of the living he thought.
"Water," he croaked, noting that the sound wasn't entirely put on. Probably best if I don't speak unless I have to for a while! "Water!" he called again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sloane's eyes open for an instant and look over at him, before they closed and he, once again, appeared asleep.
The nurse came over and raised his bed until he was in a semi-prone position. She poured some water into a plastic cup and held it to his lips. He sipped, grateful for the cool liquid which soothed his parched throat. She was silent as she performed the task but whether this was because she didn't want to disturb the other patients or wanted to keep her distance from a suicidal inmate, he couldn't tell. As he drank, his memory returned fully and he remembered why he was there and the urgency of what he and Arvin had to do. The fact that he was chained to the bed was a complication but Arvin would be aware of it and he trusted him to have worked out a solution.
"Thank you." He said to the nurse, his voice sounding more normal now.
She nodded and finally spoke, "OK." she whispered. "I'll leave the water within reach but try to get some proper rest now and don't wake the other patients."
Jack nodded his understanding and settled back as she returned to her station. Once she was settled, he turned his head and looked over at Sloane. His eyes were open, again and they exchanged a long look of mutual understanding.
Vaughn woke to find Sydney standing by the window staring out at the Manhattan skyline. He looked at the clock, "Syd, it's nearly one-thirty. Come back to bed!"
She turned towards him, "Vaughn, do you think I did the right thing?"
"I think you meant well." he answered cautiously.
"What does that mean?" she asked, harshly.
Vaughn considered his response; Sydney respected honestly, "I think it's premature to link Sloane to this. The reference to Novgorod 21 strongly indicates a Rambaldi connection but it points towards the Russians, not Sloane. The fact that Schirovsky was originally a Russian national tends to strengthen the case."
"My mother's dead, Aunt Katya's in jail and you took Doctor Lee out of the picture. Who else is there?"
"It was a big facility, Syd." Vaughn reminded her gently, "There were probably hundreds of people working there when it was at it's height, anyone of which could be behind this."
Sydney hesitated, "I hope you're right. It's just that I don't want to see Nadia hurt and with Sloane, it's like a ticking time bomb. Every moment I'm waiting for him to explode and for Nadia to get caught up in the blast."
Vaughn got up and took Sydney in his arms, "I know, I know." he comforted her.
She enjoyed his embrace for a moment, then pulled away slightly, "Maybe tomorrow we should ask Dixon and Marshall to make some enquiries about the current whereabouts and activities of the other senior and middle ranking personnel assigned at Novgorod 21?" she suggested.
"Yeah, that's a good idea!" He didn't tell her he'd already called and asked them to do just that as he led her back to the bed.
Sloane glanced at Jack through half closed eyelids. His friend and former partner was lying, apparently relaxed, in his bed but Sloane knew he would be ready to move when the time came. Jack was the only man in the game he respected as his equal. That was why theirs had been such a successful partnership and the reason his friendship with the man had survived the betrayal of his being a double agent within SD6. He turned his head to check the clock. Hopefully, it wouldn't be long now. Both the nurse and the guard from the previous night were on duty again. Judging from their behaviour, their rendezvous was a regular occurrence.
Sure enough, only a few moments later the muffled sound of a key being gently inserted in the lock could be heard, followed by the door being quietly pushed open. Sloane waited as the two lovers exchanged a preliminary embrace before disappearing into the supply room. Satisfied they would be otherwise engaged for at least twenty minutes, he reached out, extracted the picklock from its hiding place and deployed it in the handcuff lock. It opened with a gentle click after only a few seconds and he quietly swung himself up and off the bed. Jack was fully alert now, watching and waiting to be released and for their escape to begin. Sloane grinned broadly at him as he silently walked towards his bed.
T.B.C.