Ryan sat at the card table, rubbing the cold condensation from his whiskey and coke along his forehead, hoping that the burning taste of the alcohol would take away the bitter taste in his mouth.
He had already played several hands and lost all of them along with a fair amount of money, he needed the thrill of gambling though, it would help to take his mind off of the awful day that had transpired.
He nodded to the dealer that he wanted in on the next game as he threw back the last of his drink and ordered another, his thoughts returning to earlier in the day.
Flashback. Earlier today:
3pm. Interview room 1. The message read as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, recognising the number immediately.
His heart dropped at the thought of yet another meeting with IAB, he'd been through enough of them to last a lifetime. Was it wrong to hope that they weren't after him for some small transgression or another?
By the time his scheduled interview had rolled around he was more than happy for a reason to leave the glaring visage of Eric behind. The atmosphere between the two men had been frosty at best since the shootout in the warehouse.
He could understand Eric's need to protect Horatio and deep down had always felt slightly jealous of the close bond the two men shared. It was obvious that both of them would lay their lives down for the other but couldn't Eric see that Horatio was placing the rest of the team in danger in his current condition?
As he sat waiting in the interview room he pondered on what he should do, it took him by surprise when a familiar face entered the room.
"CSI Wolfe, so glad you could make it," Sargent Craig sneered as she placed a file down on the table.
It certainly wasn't the face he was expecting to see.
"Hillary?" he asked, disbelievingly.
"It's Sargent Craig to you," she replied dismissively. "I'm here to ask you some questions concerning two of your colleagues, CSI Duquesne and Lieutenant Caine."
He felt momentary relief that IAB were not coming for him, at least, not this time.
"What is this about?" he asked as he slumped forwards on the table, his head resting in his left hand as his elbow made contact with the wooden surface.
She asked him question after question about his colleagues, hoping to wear him down and force him into making a mistake that would give her the ammunition that would allow her to place the blame on at least one of her intended targets.
It came as somewhat of a relief to Ryan that she did not seem aware of the events that had transpired earlier in the day and for that he was extremely grateful. He wasn't even sure what he would do with the information himself, yet he knew the burden of carrying such a secret was likely to become too heavy to bear sooner rather than later.
He answered her questions as best he could yet found himself more than a little distracted by the IAB officer's presence. It made him question just what had happened to the young and carefree Hillary Craig he knew so well from the academy over ten years ago.
Flashback. Miami 2000:
"Hey, Hil, how's it going?"
Hillary Craig turned her head to the left and smiled as she saw her fellow officer-in-training, Ryan Wolfe amble towards her. She admired the way his uniform hugged his trim and athletic body.
"Ryan, good to see you," she replied as she gave him a friendly peck on the cheek.
"How was firearms training?"
"Good. What about your sensitivity training?"
She let out a small laugh as she saw the disgusted look on his face, he was clearly not pleased to be forced to take the training sessions but it was a required element for all male academy students if they wanted to progress to becoming a fully-certified police officer.
"I don't get why it's only us guys that have to do all that touchy feely stuff. Some of the female cadets I've met could sure do with a little sensitivity training."
A goofy grin crossed her face at Ryan's flippant remark, she'd almost felt sorry for him after he had been turned down by nearly all of the female members of their training group as he tried repeatedly to get even one of them to go out on a date with him, his efforts had remained fruitless so far.
"Maybe it's got something to do with you being such a small fry, Ryan."
He looked affronted by the remark.
"It's not size but what you do with it that counts," he retorted quickly as he folded his arms over his broad chest.
"Keep telling yourself that, Wolfe," she retorted as she patted him on the shoulder and walked away only stopping when she heard him call her name.
"You wanna go for a drink tonight?" he asked hopefully.
"Sure, little man, why not?"
Present day. Miami:
"What happened to you, Hil?" Ryan asked as he gave the IAB officer a concerned look.
She refused to make eye contact with him, knowing that if she did she would likely confess to the reasons why she had sunk so low as to be an agent for the department that all good officers despised.
She risked a quick glance at her former colleague and was dismayed when their eyes met. She didn't want him to see what she had become, how forces beyond her control had led her to take this path, a path that she had no real desire to be on.
No, it would be better to let Ryan think that she was no more than the hated figure her fellow officers had made her out to be. Hiding behind the image of a ballsy member of the rat squad made it easier for her to convince everyone around her that she was to be avoided. She didn't want them to see the stress and toll her job took on her, how it had taken her friends and loved ones away from her until nothing was left but a bitter shadow of the woman she used to be.
It was easier if everyone hated her, she could live with her image as a cold and unfeeling woman, as frigid as a cold winter's day in Colorado, for that was what she had become.
Flashback. Miami 2002:
Having graduated from the Miami Dade Police Academy almost two years ago, Hillary Craig was loving her time as an officer of the law. It was something that she had always wanted to be, her father and grandfather had both been cops and so it seemed like a natural progression for her to join the police force too.
Her mother and brother were less than happy about her choice of career, both knew first-hand the toll it had taken on her father, Phillip Craig had died at the relatively young age of 53 and his wife, Mary, was certain that the stress of his job had something to do with the massive heart attack that had killed the man she loved. There was nothing the paramedics could do when the ambulance arrived as she was told that her husband had likely died even before his lifeless body had slumped to the floor in their living room.
Still, Hillary wasn't going to let her family's displeasure at her vocation stand in the way of what she wanted to do. She had jumped into the training at the academy with both feet and ended up graduating her group with top honours and a reputation as an officer with a great deal of potential.
It didn't hurt her career that she was willing to do even the most menial of tasks that were often bestowed on rookie cops, she did it all with a smile on her face and a glint in her eye for she knew that she was here to learn from the more seasoned cops around her.
She thought she'd imagined it at first but the more she observed the detective the more she became convinced that something wasn't right about him. There had been several times when she and her partner had been the first officers to respond to incidents that Detective Miles would end up investigating.
She hadn't really liked him since the moment she met him, there was just something oily and distrustful about him. A rotund man in his fifties with a large belly and a receding hairline, Detective Nick Miles was a grumpy and unfriendly sort of fellow, not to mention his chauvinistic opinion of any female who had the misfortune to come across him. Not only was he a misogynistic old dinosaur, there was something about him that just didn't seem right.
Maybe it was the natural cop in her, but she couldn't let go of the feeling that there was more to Detective Miles than his outward offensive behaviour and offhand remarks. The more she delved into his cases and his past the more obvious it became that there was something dirty about him.
Her partner had warned her to leave well alone, that Miles was a man with a lot of friends in the force and that to get involved in any kind of attempt to bring him down would cause more harm to her career than to his.
She wouldn't listen though as her interest in Detective Miles and his extra-curricular activities began to border on obsession. When she felt she had enough evidence she took her concerns to her commanding officer, a man who was clearly siding with the seasoned detective, maybe he was on the take too?
People were unwilling to see what a nasty piece of work the detective was, a man unscrupulous enough to take backhanders from criminals and gang members alike, lining his pockets with dirty money and feeling nothing in the way of guilt for doing so.
It didn't sit right with her, the way that Detective Miles was getting away with taking bribes, perverting the course of justice and treating those around him as if they were nothing more than the dirt on his shoes.
So she made a decision, a choice that was likely to haunt her for the rest of her life.