Force- Chapter 4
Author's Notes: Hello! Guess what? Time for some angst! Yay! Thank you so much to all who have reviewed, you've made Wendell and me very happy!
Disclaimer: Do you think that if I was married to Dick Wolf I'd have some pull on what goes on in the episodes? Hmmm... the things I could do with Mike Cutter...and VDO...
P.S: I do not know whether or not there are actually warehouses next to the East River in Brooklyn, having never been there.
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At first Connie thought she'd imagined the sound of sirens. She kept her eyes closed, trying to fight the tears threatening to flow. When it appeared she was not imagining things, she opened her eyes and looked around hopefully. Her captors had frozen in their seats, straining to hear.
"Shit!" Jose yelled, climbing some of the crates up against one wall to peer out the thin windows near the roof. "It's the cops!" he jumped down to the concrete floor and ran over to Connie. Jose released her feet from the chair, keeping her wrists and ankles bound together. He then picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder, ignoring the shocked scream his prisoner uttered.
"Come on, I have an idea," one of the initiates called to his leader, holding the metal door open for Jose. They stepped out into the cold March air. Jose ran with the kid, still carrying Connie, over the gravel driveway surrounding the numerous warehouses. Connie could feel the biting wind coming off of the East River, the pungent smell assaulting her nostrils. Her eyes watered, and her shoulders hunched up against the cold. "What do you think?" the kid asked suddenly. Connie strained her neck around Jose, trying to see what this gang banger-in-training was asking about, but Jose's shoulders were too wide.
"I like the way you think, kid." She could feel Jose smile as he took a few more steps forward. Then she was flying.
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Bernard, Lupo and van Buren, sirens blaring, drove into the warehouse lot. Their sedan swerved dangerously in the gravel, making a large dust cloud that partially obscured the long line of cruisers that accompanied them. Lupo and Bernard hopped out immediately, making a dash for the metal door set into the wall. Uniformed officers flanked the detectives on both sides, weapons drawn. Lupo pressed the handle and pulled the door open for his partner, who led the procession of officers into the building. Van Buren waited outside for Jack and Mike.
"Nobody's here!" Lupo yelled, jogging up to his lieutenant. "There's some playing cars and coffee, still hot, on a table in there, and one of the officers found Connie's shoes in one corner, but that's it."
"Dammit," Anita muttered, looking around her. The area was deserted, not even one civilian. The warehouses were on the river, and the smell from pollution and, farther out, the sea, made her scrunch up her nose.
"Where the hell are they?" Bernard cried, his brow scrunched in frustration. They waited as all the uniformed officers streamed out of the building. Suddenly the wind kicked up, making everyone in the lot look up in surprise. A blue and white NYPD helicopter was making its way steadily toward the ground. Mike was hanging out of the open side, waving his arm in the direction of the East River. Van Buren motioned for all the officers to stay where they were and moved slowly toward the descending helicopter, shielding her eyes with one hand.
Mike jumped to the ground before the chopper had touched down, dashing over to van Buren and screaming over the noise of the helicopter. Jack descended a few minutes later, and the three of them turned and ran down the gravel drive toward the river. Van Buren gestured quickly to her detectives, intimating they should follow him.
Bernard and Lupo set off at a run, arriving at the river bank moments after their boss and the lawyers. There was still rippling in the water from something being dropped into its depths. Mike was staring in horror at the water. No one moved. No one breathed. Connie didn't appear. Suddenly, as if spurred on by their attention, the outline of a person appeared just below the surface of the water, the skin beneath the blouse prickling in the cold air.
Mike wasted no time; he jogged down the rough bank and charged into the water, set on brining Connie out alive.
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Connie had never felt cold like this; when Jose had flung her into the air, she hadn't registered that he was throwing her in the direction of the East River.
The frigid water numbed her every nerve, produced pain in places she didn't even know she had. It was chilling, right down to the bone. For a while she fought hard, but the pain was too excruciating; she was reminded oddly of the part of the film 'Titanic' when Leo DiCaprio tells Kate Winslet the freezing ocean water was like a thousand knives stabbing your body. Or it was something like that. She couldn't remember. It even hurt to think.
Connie thrashed wildly, trying to use her bound ankles like a mermaid's tail to kick her way to open air. Her lungs were burning, every cell in her body screaming at her to breathe. Just a few more seconds, she told herself, but she knew it was a losing battle. Just as she was about to open her mouth and let the icy water come barrelling in, she felt something on her back.
Air. Her back was becoming a mass of goose bumps from the wind whipping at her shoulders. Connie flapped her body again, trying to turn herself for a breath of air. She needed it. She was going to die if she didn't get it.
Then, miraculously, she was being towed up out of the water. Strong arms hoisted her up and into the freezing daylight, giving her that sought- after breath of fresh air. Then she began to shiver. She shivered violently, now much preferring the cold water to the colder air. Everything hurt again. Her lungs were once more aflame, and her heart was now pumping painfully in her chest, trying valiantly to get blood to her steadily cooling body. Someone above her yelled for blankets, and Connie opened her eyes, the daylight burning her pupils. She knew that voice.
"Mike?" she whispered softly.