Chapter Three: Servo Quod Pacem
Author note: According to the Flashpoint Wikia site, Sam's rank in JTF2 was Master Corporal. Now, we're never told more about Matt, other than the fact that Sam shot him in a friendly fire incident. I know that Matt's name also suffers from a bit of a continuity error; I'm just sticking with the first name that Sam brought up, way back in Season 1. Since we're never told more about Matt: his last name, rank, etc…for all intents and purposes, Matt is, beyond his name, an OC. Therefore, I've made him the JTF2 unit leader, which puts his rank one above Sam's: Sergeant. I've also given him a last name from another fandom I enjoy…see if you can figure it out without Googling it.
Spike scowled at his computer screen, wishing he could reach through it and strangle the jerk on the other end of the connection who'd just dropped one heck of a lead in Spike's lap…with no way he could call for backup unless he wanted to lose this one, slim lead to Sam's location. The bomb tech rose, pacing angrily as he thought. On one hand, his parents and his team would probably unite in putting him on a leash if he did this…on the other…as Ed had said once, "You want to spend the rest of your life thinking about what we should have done?"
Constable Scarlatti grimaced, turning back towards his computer and sitting down again. His fingers flew on the keyboard, inputting data, saving information, and leaving a message for his team. Then he dove into the duffle bag he'd grabbed from the 'special gear' locker, changing as rapidly as possible. He fingered his phone a moment, then programmed in a sequence he was praying the bad guys didn't know about and shut the phone down. The phone itself went in the inner pocket of his tunic, hidden under two layers of armor from detection. After a brief debate with himself, Spike opted to leave his sidearm behind.
As ready as he could be, the bomb tech stepped out of his room, a resolute look on his face and a glint of defiance in his eyes. He walked through his home's hallways, heading for the door, only to stop as his Mamá appeared, heading for bed.
"What are you doing, Michelangelo?" she demanded at once.
Spike faltered, but only for a moment. "My job, Mamá," he told her grimly. "My team is going to come here tomorrow. I need you to tell them everything's on my computer and to 'Keep the Peace'."
"No, Michelangelo," she cried, wringing her hands. "Do not leave us all alone…to grow old without our son."
Spike advanced, putting both hands on her shoulders and meeting her eyes. "Trust my team, Mamá. If I don't go, my teammate might die. I can keep him alive long enough for my team to find us and he can keep me alive, too." His grip tightened, squeezing her shoulders reassuringly. "I'm sorry Mamá, but I have to do this. Tell them, Mamá, tell them to 'Keep the Peace'." Without waiting for a response, he moved past her and was gone before she could cry out again.
Being awoken by the phone at two o'clock in the morning, with an angry Italian mother on the other end wasn't Greg's idea of a good wake-up call. Then he woke up enough to realize the angry Italian mother was Mrs. Scarlatti and she was accusing him of sending her son out alone to die. He cut her off with a brisk, "Spike's missing?"
Two worried pairs of eyes were already peeking in from the doorway, but Greg had no time for them right now. "He left, my Michelangelo left; he said his teammate would die if he didn't go," the distraught mother wailed.
"Ma'am, I'm going to call my team and we'll be there as soon as we can," Parker replied, giving her no time to argue. He hung up and grabbed his smartphone, then stopped, unsure of how to do what he wanted to do.
Lance swooped in. "Spike's house?" he queried briskly.
"Yes," Greg confirmed.
"Okay, one alert plus text message coming right up," Lance announced, fingers flying on the small device. "I can show you how later, Uncle Greg."
"No, you'll show me now," Greg countered. "You two have school and if you pull any stunts, I'll ground you twice as long as last time and find a few new activities for you two to do." He paused, just for emphasis, then added, "And after that, my team gets a crack at you."
Lance gulped; it was clear his uncle wasn't playing around and pushing him would be a very bad idea. So he meekly nodded and showed his uncle how to set up and trigger the alert and text message function of the phone. Then he herded his sister back to her room, with a quiet warning against trying any crazy stunts…at least for now.
Any passers-by to the Scarlatti residence could have been forgiven for thinking the home had been invaded; Team One hadn't even bothered to hit the station for their trucks, instead making tracks for Spike's home in their personal vehicles. Greg, who'd had to detour to drop his kids off at school first, was the last to arrive. That the Scarlattis looked unhappy was to vastly understate the case and Mrs. Scarlatti was railing at Jules in Italian, using language that left Greg wincing a little.
Greg stepped in, physically and verbally, saying, "Mrs. Scarlatti, I'm Sergeant Greg Parker, Spike's boss. I understand you're afraid for your son, but yelling at my constable isn't going to help. Can you tell me what happened?"
Mrs. Scarlatti pinned him with a death glare, hands on hips. "You send my son to risk his life and you want me to help you?"
Parker stiffened at the accusation. "Ma'am, I most certainly did not tell him to go off on his own. That's not the way our team works; my team doesn't pull lone-wolf stunts like this, not without consequences." He studied her, frowning deeply. "Now, could you please tell me what happened last night?"
"He left," she wailed, just as she had on the phone. "Why would he do that…why would he risk leaving us alone, with no one to care for us in our old age?"
Refusing to be sidetracked, Greg repeated, "Ma'am, what happened last night when he left; what did Spike say?"
It took several more minutes to sooth Mrs. Scarlatti to the point that she would talk sense instead of wailing, minutes that left Greg mentally clenching his teeth with frustration. But at last, she recounted Spike's words to her, mentioning that he'd said "Keep the Peace" twice. Puzzled by the emphasis on that one phrase, Greg promised to speak to her again before they left and departed for Spike's room. It did not escape the Sergeant's notice that Mr. Scarlatti had given his entire team the cold shoulder, hardly acknowledging their presence at all…even with his son missing.
Inside Spike's room, he found Ed growling over the fact that Spike had brought his armor home with him the night before while Lou stood over Spike's computer, uncharacteristic frustration on the less-lethal specialist's face. "Eddie?"
"Wordy's calling in a BOLO on Spike's car and Jules is looking for Spike's phone, 'cause we can't find it and Lou says it has to be off 'cause it's not responding to any 'pings', whatever those are."
Lou, glaring at Spike's computer, added, "I need a password to get in; Spike's changed it since the last time he gave me it to me 'just in case'."
A few pieces of the puzzle slid together and Greg suggested, "Lou, try 'Keep the Peace'."
Lou's fingers danced over the keyboard, but he looked back and shook his head. "Nothing."
Frowning thoughtfully, Greg strode over to Lou and the computer; the other man backed away to give his boss room. Leaning over the keyboard, Greg typed "Mantenere la Pace" and hit Enter. Both brows hiked at the small message that appeared under the text box, "Getting warm there, Boss".
"Italian?" Lou queried, looking over his boss's shoulder.
"Yeah, Spike told his mother to tell us to 'Keep the Peace'," Parker reported.
Out of the corner of his eye, Greg saw Lou frown thoughtfully, then the man's fingers flew on his phone, pulling something up and typing swiftly. Without being asked, Greg got out of Lou's way, watching over Lou's arm as the less-lethal specialist typed in "Pacem". The message under the text box winked out. Lou scowled, drew back, played at his phone a moment more. Greg's eyes widened as Lou tried again, typing "Servo quod Pacem" and hitting Enter one final time.
The screen changed, logging them in without hesitation. "Latin," Lou concluded, trading looks with his boss. "Latin for 'Keep the Peace'."
The three men looked at the screen; clearly Spike had anticipated that they'd figure out his password, the first thing they saw was a Word document with a message for them.
"Sorry Guys,
I gotta act on this fast or I miss the chance to back Samtastic up. I think I've been talking to a member of Sam's JTF2 team; he mentioned a few things only Sam's team would know. Anyway, I put together as much as I can; I've got my phone with me, but it's off so they won't find it. I know you guys; you won't stop till we're both safe. Keep the Peace,
Spike"
Lou scrolled through the document Spike had put together for them; expressions tightened the further he went. Finally Greg gave his verdict. "Let's get Spike's computer to the station; we need to get this information to Onasi as quickly as possible."
Giles had been up most of the night, searching feverishly through the library for information about what he suspected had been in Braddock's apartment building the night of the abduction. He was, therefore, not happy to be summoned to SRU Headquarters without so much as a nap after his all-nighter.
He arrived in a rather surly mood, only be taken aback by the fact that Team One had dark circles under their own eyes, marking a rather long night on their end, too. Scarlatti's absence was explained by Young as he briefed all of them on what Scarlatti had managed to dig up before vanishing himself.
"I don't know what gave Spike the idea, maybe this mystery guy we haven't managed to ID yet; the chat traced back to an all-night cyber café, so dead end there. But if Spike's right, Sam's abduction has to do with his old JTF2 team and what happened before he joined Team One."
Giles cleared his throat. "What happened before Constable Braddock joined Team One?"
"Friendly fire incident," Lane filled in, grim and closed. "I made a few assumptions when I found out about it; we didn't know at that point that Sam's JTF2 team knew about magic and worked magic-side missions. Sam told us he thought his best friend got hit by the Imperious and ended up right in Sam's range when he was cleared to fire."
As Giles absorbed the information, Young took over again. "Sam was transferred out of the military right after that incident, but his wizard handlers also managed to overdose Sam with Veritaserum before they discharged him." Onasi gaped in horror at that tidbit.
A sigh, then Young continued. "After Sam's discharge, the unit fell apart. Spike's contact said most of the unit either blamed Sam or weren't sure what to think, 'cause he got booted so quickly. Ryan Peck, one of the wizards who worked with the squad and Matt Peck's brother – Matt's the soldier who Sam shot – tried to step in and take over, but that didn't go over all that well with the unit. According to Spike's contact, Ryan recently became obsessed with the idea of using the 'Old Religion' to bring his brother back to life. Spike's theory was that Ryan seized on the idea of using Sam's life as a trade for Matt's; I'm not sure what I think about that idea, but if Spike's right, then Sam's in even more trouble than we thought."
Onasi cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself. "That would fit with a few things I managed to uncover. I wasn't aware of Constable Braddock's past with JTF2, but now that I am…well, it explains why Madame Locksley went out of her way to inform me that Ryan Peck's last known location was Toronto. Where in Toronto, we don't know. What I'm more concerned with is the tape of Braddock's abduction."
"What about it?" Wordsworth inquired, tilting his head in curiosity.
Rubbing his forehead, Onasi elaborated. "You saw how the tape's quality degraded as soon as Braddock's abductors arrived at his apartment building." Silent nods. "Obviously, the magical world isn't as current as I might wish when it comes to how magical beings or states might affect Mu…non-magical technology. My best working theory had to focus on beings or states that might affect their environment; sadly, there are quite a few that can. But I believe I've narrowed down who, or rather what, was in the atrium."
Team One gathered around as Onasi laid out his prior night's long labored for fruit. The tome was ancient, its spine crackling as he opened it, and the pages looked as if they might flee the book at any moment. Only the layers of preservation spells on the tome kept it from crumbling to dust right in front of them. Gingerly, Onasi leafed through the tome to the page he'd found. When he reached the page, he turned the tome so Team One could see the skeletal figure on the page opposite the description.
"This is an account, written by Gaius, the Court Physician of Camelot, of the history and his ward's encounter with a Shade. 'The old legends do speak of such creatures. They call them "Shades". Poor, tormented souls summoned from their rest by the necromancer's art. They possess the physical form they had in life as well as knowledge of their own skills and name. Beyond that, they are mere shells of what they were before and can be forced to betray everything they were in life. Though Sir Lancelot was an honorable man in life; in death, he was forced by the Witch, Morgana, to seduce Lady Guinevere and thus come between her and King Arthur. After being caught, the Shade committed suicide on Morgana's orders, taking the truth of what had occurred to its new grave. Even after the Shade's death, the soul remained bound to Morgana until freed by magic equal to the dark magic used to raise the Shade.' "
Grim looks were exchanged, though it was Callaghan who spoke first. "You think what distorted the film was a Shade?"
A nod. "There are other undead beings," Onasi admitted, "But none of them would possess the same physical form they did in life. Zombies and inferi use a dead body, sure, but at the same time, it's obvious that they're dead. Vampires use a dead body as well, but the victim would have to be sired right at the moment of death; I don't believe that's the case here. I don't care how bad the tape is, we'd have spotted a zombie or inferi on it if it was there. Vampire, I'm not completely sure about; they don't show up in mirrors…not sure if that applies to a tape as well. But a Shade? It's supposed to look alive, to look human. And it would fit with the theme of the Old Religion. What I don't get is how Ryan thinks he can trade Braddock's life for his brother's…no magic is capable of truly bringing back the dead."
"Could he be that insane?" Wordsworth questioned, a worried look in his eyes. "Could he actually believe he can do it?"
Onasi shook his head, not in denial, but in bewilderment. "One thing I have learned, Constable Wordsworth. Never underestimate the lengths a desperate man will go for his goal…no matter how impossible that goal might be."