A/N: Thanks to those of you who are reading and reviewing.

Disclaimer: I lay no claims whatsoever.

Summary: Agent Danny Taylor has been seconded into another unit for an undercover operation. After four months he is now missing. As the final deal draws close the FBI plans its tactics and Danny's friends search for a way to help find him.

CHAPTER 6

No more. Danny knew he was near the end. He could no longer assemble his thoughts.. Couldn't hang onto images that flashed and washed and dragged through his head. A pressure that had started in his chest had spread now to envelope all of him. It was a smothering blanket. Like a wet sheet laid over him and tied tight around. Pressing against him, sucked into his mouth and eyes and ears, dulling every sensation. He'd fought it at first but now the weight was too much, the effort too great and he knew he couldn't beat it, couldn't gasp through it for air, couldn't see though it to light, couldn't even hear beyond its stifling muffling. Danny had had a religious upbringing, had seen enough violence and tragedy, come close enough himself before, to have wondered at length about death – what it felt like , what came just before. But now, as the heaviness became blackness, Danny was beyond thought.

FBI HEADQUARTERS PRESENT DAY

TUESDAY 8.30 AM

Jack Malone looked around the meeting room. All eyes were on the speaker or the screen he indicated, occasionally drifting to the copied dossier of notes and photos that had been given to each person as they had entered and found a seat.

These were all experienced competent agents and officers...Huh! Shame they weren't led by one.

Clive Morrison was clearly enjoying himself. At least, it was clear to Jack.

Others there may not see past the slick delivery. Maybe they didn't register anything but a professional presentation or no-nonsense replies. To Jack however, living for the past two days with an ever growing, gnawing anger, that light in Morrison's eyes was a little too eager, his body language a little too self aware, his words a little too defiant. In fact his whole manner was just too damned enthusiastic...With Danny missing, where's the concern?Where are the warnings? Pompous bastard!

The room was full. Most of the faces were recognisable to Jack – agents and officers he'd seen or worked with. Four members of the Bureau's own Tactical Operations team lead by Agent Brian Tolsen. Big, bluff and built like a linebacker, Jack had worked with him on several occasions and knew he could be trusted. It would be Tolsen who would head up the on-the-ground operation.

Seated alongside him, four members of NYPD's SWAT team and a Lieutenant who would be heading a team of back-up uniforms. They too were familiar from various crisis situations that Jack had been witness to, or part of, over the years. FBI Tactical and SWAT regularly trained together and there was a camaraderie amongst those tough men that reminded Jack of his time in the forces.

Seven agents from the Department for Pre-emptive Crime were there too. Al Morgan was the only member of their team...Huh, apart from Danny, but then he's not really their team... who was missing, still on leave to be with his bedridden wife. Jack knew three of their number, though trained to the standard of all agents, had been picked specifically for their skills in tracking computer crime. With the nature of the department's remit, their knowledge was imperative to trace how gangs or businesses built up their power base and with whom. He recognised their talents and respected them but he was a leg-man himself and felt most comfortable with agents who'd also worked the streets.

Pre-emptive's remaining four agents, all men, were just that. They were familiar. Jack had ridden in elevators with them, passed the time of day at the building's vending machines, walked with them into the downstairs car-park, but he'd never before worked with them. And since this operation had moved up a gear ...or four... none of them had wanted to speak to him. Avoiding him under orders he guessed.

As a group they shared a proprietorial air...Hey, it is their case, right?...Jack could sense their excitement...well, they had been working it for months hadn't they? ...Of all the people in the room, the department members looked around themselves the most, nodding occasionally at Morrison's words and glancing at others as though checking that they too were understanding.

Oh, Jack understood alright. Morrison had warned them that this was their big chance, their big moment, to prove themselves. Like an over anxious lottery syndicate, they weren't about to give away their ticket to success.

Jack sighed. He knew he shouldn't blame them. Maybe his own unit would be similarly protective of a case that began with them but, glancing at his team, he could see an entirely different look on their faces.

Martin, Sam and Viv were sitting alongside each other, staring at the images displayed with grim concentration. Behind their frowns and tired eyes Jack knew lay the fear that he himself felt...what if all this came too late for Danny?

"So these are the main players." Morrison had been outlining his expectations of the up-coming operation with preliminary timings for their plans. Now his voice carried through the room and interrupted Jack's thoughts.

Stills of four men appeared on the plasma screen beside him. With a flick of his wrist, Morrison clicked on his remote...could that be called a flourish?....and one of the images flew forward to take up the whole screen...man, all we get is a magnetic white board!

"Bare bones...This is Felipe Romano. He's been our main target. Already established in Florida, he branched out from a family firm to set up here two years ago and has moved fast with the usual stuff – drugs, prostitution, protection. But this is the deal that will establish him. He has a lot to prove and his next step is into the arena with some pretty big opposition. He has to pull it off."

"And he's the one your guy is in with?" The question came from Tolsen.

Morrison nodded. "Yes, we have good intel from the undercover operation. Our agent has been able to get very close in his crew."

Tolsen huffed in admiration. "Tough gig, judging by this guy's biog."

All those in the audience had had enough time to scan through the information provided. This meeting was something of a formality, an introduction to each other and a first look at their plan of action. It would be fine tuned during the course of the day with further intensive briefings involving all agencies..

Morrison nodded again and held up his copy of the dossier. "You're right. Romano is dangerous and, to be honest, he has become even more so. All the gory details of what this guy is capable of are in here – read it at your leisure, it's not pretty."

"Our agent inside believed he was getting real nervous about this deal. He was using more and getting pretty antsy over the whole thing, not surprising when you know the company he's keeping."

Another click of the remote ….Yeah, definitely a flourish – the guy just loves the drama ... and another face flew forwards on the screen. A rather grainy picture of a sharp featured man with eyes so deep-set it was hard to see their colour. Dark. The dossier said he was fifty two and outlined a back-story of crime supply and enablement.

"Emil Tati. French Canadian former mercenary. He's the guy behind the gun shipment. He's brought it together mainly from Eastern Europe we think. We can't track it all, can't hope to tackle things that end but the CIA are on it and want their shot at him too after we're done. If we can cut off his supply route this end we'll be doing the world a favour."...Great, now he's going global!... Jack pressed his lips together as he mentally chastised himself for the resentment he felt.

Much of the background information on Tati came from the Anti-Terrorism Unit at Homeland Security. He was an arms dealer who played for the highest bidder, with connections to many notorious organisations. They'd had him on their radar for a while but had never had enough proof for a prosecution.

Jack knew this case had long reaching impact but it seemed to him that while everyone was looking outwards, Danny was somewhere in the city, within spitting distance, and in need of help. And nobody seemed to be doing much about that.

"Romano is going to be paying Tati in drugs and cash. The drugs we believe are largely coming from this man." Another click, another face.

"Manuel Calderon. Member of one of Mexico's biggest drug cartels. There's been a steady supply coming in over the last two or three months. Romano took a small warehouse unit on the south dockside and has another a couple of blocks away. There are half a dozen other safe stashes he uses too. The addresses are all in your dossier." He waved his copy once again.

"The NYPD have kindly offered to take care of them when the time comes, but our agent has seen most of it is now going to the warehouse, stockpiling for the pay-off, and that's where Romano has focused his security. Our guy's been part of that since December."

Jack noticed Martin was tight-lipped and shaking his head slightly as if in some disbelief. He knew just how he felt....So this is where Danny had been all these months ...but still the same question, where is he now?

Morrison waved again at the screen with a broad sweeping gesture and his voice got a little louder and more strident ...Jesus, it feels like he's building to a finale!...Jack shifted his position andnoticed Deputy Commander Eleanor Brucknor had slipped quietly into the room and was now standing at the back watching the presentation....Ah yes! Got to impress the bosses.

"And finally, this is Marcel Eno. Head of a Jersey City gang, and buyer of at least part of the incoming shipment, we're not entirely sure what proportion. Also expected to pay in drugs and cash. You'll know about Eno. His crew are responsible for probably thirty percent of the drug and gun crime over the river and more and more of it in this city too."

The mug shot showed a thick-set man in his forties. The photographing and processing of villains didn't allow for portraiture but even in the blandness of the picture his dead looking eyes carried a glaring menace.

"So! These are our targets ladies and gentlemen!" Morrison was summing up, his body angled towards the AC, head held high in what Jack was sure was intended to be a grand posture of great leadership.

"You'll find further pictures of their respective crews in your packs and we're uploading some video surveillance footage onto the system too – you'll be able to access that with the operation code within the hour."

He looked around with a smile...Yep! The Big Finish..."Now, let's take them down!"

For an instant it seemed that Morrison actually expected some sort of applause. Maybe a marine style "Hoo-ya!"None came.

Most of those present nodded quiet affirmation and turned to the dossiers once more to ingest the background information they would need. The tactical units were already rising to study the detailed maps of the dockside area and surrounding blocks that were tacked up on the walls and duplicated on the laptops they consulted. Their priority was in their own planning for the assault and cover.

"What about the agent inside?"

Martin Fitzgerald's voice carried over the shufflings and murmerings that were just beginning.

Jack felt the room grow still as Clive Morrison looked up from the papers he was collecting. He looked for the speaker.

Martin rose. "You haven't mentioned anything about the safety of the agent inside...or your plan to find him once we get in there."

There was a brittle tone of accusation in his voice and Jack felt a glow of pride that Martin should raise the one thing that had been avoided. The subject was like the proverbial elephant in the room and Jack leaned back to see how Morrison dealt with it. He had a horrible feeling, bred from experience, that Martin would be disappointed.

"Agent ...Fitzgerald?" Morrison assumed the manner of a disapproving headmaster not quite sure which aberrant pupil he was addressing...Bastard! Someone like you would know just who Martin is... He leaned onto his podium as though suddenly weary. The room waited.

" Yes. I think most of you will have heard by now that, after four months, we have just recently lost contact with our agent on the inside."He dropped the tone of his voice and Jack noticed his eyes glanced to the back of the room, looking perhaps for recognition of the concern he was obviously trying to convey.

"We are hoping that the loss of communication is down to the increase in Romano's security...that our man felt it was safer to maintain silence. We all know it can be a dangerous job." ...Yeah, right! When was the last time you went undercover? ..."We have to rely on the agent himself to know what is best for the operation."...Did he just try to sidestep responsibility. Did he just try to lay the lost contact at Danny's door? Christ! He's a piece of work!.

Morrison straightened up. "We will of course be making the finding and recovery of our agent a priority. His photo is in your dossiers, please make all your personnel aware of it . We expect strong resistance and we don't want any casualties on our side."

With that Morrison placed his papers into his leather briefcase, took a moment to smooth his tie and headed for the door, greeting AC Brucknor on the way and leaving with her, heads bowed together in discussion.

Martin swung round to watch him go. Disbelief and anger showed in the rigid tightness of his jaw. A nerve jumped there and Jack spotted it and rose to intercept him.

Viv and Sam gathered at his side too and Jack could feel their tension.

"What the hell, Jack! He barely even mentioned Danny – he's only got an eye for the glory!" Martin's voice was low with disgust. "Christ, he didn't even give his name. It was like he didn't even register in the grand scheme."

"Al said he was ambitious but not that he was a complete bastard!" Viv's low voice held utter contempt.

Jack looked at her with sharp surprise. Viv was an experienced agent. Her manner, calm and controlled at all times. For her to allow her feelings to show quite so easily said a lot about the pressure they were all feeling.

"They've had a watch on the warehouse unit for weeks right?" Sam looked to Viv who had the inside contact with her friend in the Pre-emptive Unit. Viv nodded. She had managed to get more information out of Marcy although the poor woman was coming under great pressure from Morrison, who seemed to know it was she who might have contacted the MPU.

Sam continued. "Well, they don't have any recent shots of Danny there. He may not even be there even when we do go in." Jack noticed her voice was rising with anxiety.

"We have to believe what Al told us." Viv sounded as though she might be trying to convince herself as much as Sam. "Danny was part of the crew keeping watch over that stockpile of drugs. He told us Danny was still being used by Romano at the club sometimes but in the last couple of weeks it was becoming less. He was definitely based down there."

Martin nodded. "Yeah, Al thought Danny was becoming one of the few that Romano actually trusted as he got more and more wired about the deal. The fact that Danny wasn't a user seemed to help with that. Seemed to them that Romano wasn't entirely convinced the others wouldn't be trying to test the merchandise for themselves."

"Must've put Danny in an even worse position," Jack grunted. "Romano's second, that guy Eduardo was there too?"

"According to Al." Martin nodded. There was something still bothering him from the conversation with Al Morgan at the hospital. "You know, we still don't know exactly when Danny's contacts stopped."

Sam leaned in to keep their huddled conversation low. "I thought it was nothing since Saturday."

"Hm, well that's what Marcy told me originally."Viv looked and sounded dubious in her reply. "It seems there may be some confusion over who was acting as his handler in the last week after Al went off." She shrugged despairingly at the apparent lapse. "Marcy said they've been spread real thin since Danny gave confirmation of the date of the shipment and this whole thing swung into overdrive. Marcy and the others in the office weren't clear who was gathering the information from him."

Martin stood up and ran his fingers roughly through his hair in frustration.

"You know...Al said that Morrison told him he would take care of it. When he went off, I mean. Maybe he meant he would be taking on the handling himself." His mouth became a grim line. "He strikes me as the kind of guy who'd want to play it close at the end."

Nobody disagreed.

Jack stood up and the others took it as their cue. "Viv, I know she's worried, but see if Marcy can just take a look at some of the contact files. Sam, Martin, take a closer look at some of Romano's crew – some of the ones Al mentioned to you as being friendlier to Danny. Anyone he might have struck up a friendship with."

They all knew that in an undercover operation no friendship could ever really be trusted.

Undercover, you have no friends but the back-up team you rely on. If they were going to get ahead of the game when they were finally allowed to start their search for Danny, they needed pointers. If arrests were made, they needed to know who to target with their questions. With their deals.

"Jack!"

The group stopped at the door as Brian Tolsen approached them. He held a photo from the dossier in his hand. It was a close-up shot of Danny. Not from his FBI ID, this had been taken as he stood outside Carlito's. He was gazing down the street. The team knew it as the look of vigilance he wore when gauging trouble on the job. He wore street clothes and a heavy jacket with the collar turned up, but his handsome face, though a little thinner than when they last saw him, was clear and instantly recognisable.

"This is your guy isn't it?" Jack nodded.

"Thought so. I remember him from that hostage situation with the soldier and his wife."...Yeah we all remember that one. Danny on the inside, the rest of us just waiting and hoping on the outside...nothing new there.

Tolsen nodded and looked around at them. There was understanding in his voice and in his eyes.

"I'm real sorry."

MANHATTAN – LOWER EAST SIDE HOUSING PROJECTS

TUESDAY 11.00 AM

Martin eased out of the bureau sedan and gazed up at the grey tenement blocks ahead of him. Never an inspiring sight, in the winter damp and cold the development looked as threatening as its reputation. Despite City efforts this area was not on the tourist maps. Graffiti, litter and a general impression of decay combined to exaggerate an air of menace to the unwary.

He pulled his overcoat around him tighter as Sam joined him. Having locked the car, they headed east towards a street busy with shoppers and hawkers.

They dodged the flow of pedestrian traffic that ebbed and parted around them. The place hummed with energy and purpose but this was a place that quickly noticed outsiders and the two agents knew they would have been made as soon as they stepped from their vehicle.

Martin opened the door to a coffee shop that made one of the corners and held it for Sam to enter ahead of him. This was not one of the franchise chains that graced every other street in New York. In fact, this was not just a coffee shop but a dimly lit centre for all kinds of business that also happened to provide refreshments. And for the right price, information.

It was no real secret that Barney Zeigler, Babu to everyone who knew him, was an informant. Since the age of five when he took his first dollar for telling his mother's next door neighbour which little street menace had broken her window, Babu had recognised the value of information. And others had seen the value of occasionally allowing to have it and to pass it on.

Babu didn't care who he sold information to. Gang bosses looking for missing customers, late with their dues; street hustlers needing a tip off when the city would be choosing their patch to clear; cops needing to trace a weapon; or feds wanting background. It was his completely arbitrary attitude to information and those who sought it that had helped him survive.

Of course he wasn't popular with anyone but, in this little corner of New York City, he was considered something of a necessary evil. Generally, he knew so much about so many people, he was seen as a liability worth keeping around.

As Martin followed Samantha into the cafe, Babu raised his eyes from the whoosh of the espresso machine, handed a steaming cup to his waiting customer and quickly edged out from behind the counter. The three headed to the back where a small office lay behind greasy strips of hanging coloured plastic.

There was no need for ceremony. All parties knew the score here.

Martin pulled a small picture of Twist from his jacket pocket and held it up. Babu took it in his fat fingers and turned it towards the light. His sly smile revealed bad teeth and his small eyes lit up in eagerness.

Martin took back the picture. "What can you tell us?"

"Ahh, Orlando Drego - young master Twist. Used to be such a sweet boy." Babu closed his eyes as though reaching far back into his memory. "Until he knifed his cousin over a bag of dope." Martin nodded his encouragement.

"He grew up in the projects just over there." Babu indicated the outdoors with his head. "Joined one of those street gangs and is currently trying to swim with bigger fishes in a much bigger pond."

"We need to know about his family. Anyone he's close to?"

Babu looked from Martin to Sam, lingering over the blond with a slow down-and-up appreciation. He held out his hand. Sam drew out a $50 note and placed it in his palm. It was folded and tucked away in an instant.

"Mother a junkie. Father dead. His elder brother practically raised him...protected him from those who might have resented his somewhat ambitious ways. Know what I mean?" They nodded. "The brother was the only one who had any control over him. He was killed in a drive-by couple of years back. Twist don't come around here much anymore."

Babu shrugged and the conversation was at an end. There was no more to say.

The two agents left the cafe as quickly as they had come and headed back to their car. If they were seen, and they were, they were quickly forgotten. Babu's cafe saw a lot of passing traffic – a one-stop shop with tattle as its trade. Martin hoped thier investment would pay off later.

Forty minutes later, Martin dropped Sam at the front of their headquarters then drove down the ramp to the secure parking below. Three security checks later, including an automatic under-vehicle sweep, Martin left the car and stepped into the elevator to take him up the MPU on the sixth floor. As he leaned back to watch the numbers a hand slipped in between the doors and someone else entered. Clive Morrison would be riding with him.

Recognition was instant this time.

"Well, Agent Fitzgerald." It was neither friendly or surprised. Martin couldn't bring himself to give a response.

Morrison leaned against the side wall of the elevator and stared into Martin's face for a moment then took a small step towards him.

"You know ...that stunt you pulled at this morning's briefing ...didn't do you any favours." They were of similar height and Morrison narrowed his eyes as they came level. "Nobody was impressed with your grandstanding."

You've got to be kidding...Martin could not believe what he was hearing.

"The Assistant Commander is well aware of what has happened to Agent Taylor. It was not the place to raise the issue." His face registered a cold anger.

Martin's mouth felt dry with anger as he spoke up rather louder than he realised."I was under the impression that nobody knows what has happened to him." Martin returned the stare. "Which seems to me to reflect pretty poorly on the handling of this whole thing."

Martin's words hung in the whirring quiet as Morrison's face blanched with barely contained fury.

He stepped even closer to Martin, his compressed and whitened lips just inches from his ear. His voice was raw and so different from the one he'd adopted to impress just a few hours ago.

"You'd do well to remember that I am a senior agent. I am the head of a department. This is my operation and I will see it through how I see fit." He was practically hissing. Martin could feel his breath.

"Not all of us, Agent Fitzgerald, have the benefit of the privileges you've had. Not all of us have a father who will ease us up the Bureau ladder." He pressed his head further forwards, bitter contempt practically dripping from his words. Martin stood his ground while looking straight ahead.

"Some of us, Agent Fitzgerald, will succeed because of the work we do rather than the people we sit down to family supper with."

Before Martin could respond the elevator halted. A familiar ting sounded, incongruously light and cheerful in the charged atmosphere within. Three women entered, already well into a boisterous conversation and oblivious to the other occupants.

Morrison stepped back to allow them to stand between him and Martin but the two men continued to stare at each other in glimpses around the chattering heads.

At the next stop Martin pushed through them, exited and turned to watch the doors close behind him, finally shutting off his view of the man whose face he would now so dearly love to smack.

Slowly releasing a long held breath, he felt his stomach sink as the feeling of dread for Danny deepened within him. What chance was there for him if that was the guy who'd been watching his friend's back.

TBC

Next chapter - the shipment, the operation and the search....