Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or ideas from The Killing. It's all just for fun.
Spoilers: Season 3, episode 7
On top of everything else, Linden is missing. Holder is at the station, feeling increasingly frantic. In another twenty minutes they'll lose their helicopter support for the search of the park. A voice over the radio tells them that someone with a Task Force ID number is parked on a radio channel, just broadcasting continuously. Holder can't believe it when he hears the broadcasting radio's number.
It's Linden.
He picks up a radio off his desk, changes the channel, and suddenly hears Linden's voice.
"…know you're angry, but you need to think about your options."
Holder turns around to the Task Force room. "Everyone shut up!"
"Like what?" Pastor Mike asks over the radio. Talking continues in the background of the Task Force room.
He doesn't care what anyone thinks, he just needs them all to stop talking. NOW. "SHUT UP!" Holder screams. The room goes silent.
Pastor Mike is talking again. "Beacon is gone. Everything I built is gone."
"Linden's with the Pastor," Holder breaths.
"When'd you last see her?" asks Skinner.
"With you, at the train station," Holder replies.
On the radio, Linden continues. "You have choices right now. But if my guys find out you're pointing a gun at me, I can't help you anymore."
Pointing a gun at her.Holder struggles to think straight. Then there's static on the radio. Holder had been leaning on the desk with both hands, over the radio. He pushes himself off the desk and walks a few paces.
"All units, this is Lt. Skinner. An officer's making an emergency broadcast on channel 7. All units, switch to L-Tac until further notice."
Linden
Breathe in, breathe out. Keep him talking. You can do this, you're trained for it.
Keep talking to him, keep the connection going. Breathe. Keep him talking.
Breathe. Don't think too much, just keep going. It's going to be fine. They're going to find you, he's going to find you. Holder. He will. Just keep talking and buy some time, and give him as many clues as possible.
It's going to be fine.
Holder
Goddammit, Linden. Of course that's where you are. Of course you're with the psychopath. Why would you be anywhere else?
Alright, keep talking, Linden. The radio was a great idea. Keep talking. Give me something to work with, something I can use. Dammit, come on Linden, just hang on.
…
Suddenly he knew where she was. "She's at the Biltmore Pier!" Holder exclaimed. The scene that Linden had just described to Pastor Mike had been the night that he had been pacing on the median on the bridge, not sure of what to do or whether he should just walk out into traffic, just jump off the bridge… just be done with it all, or if it was all worth trying again. But she'd shown up and ordered him to get back to safety on the sidewalk on the side of the bridge, and he so had, simple as that. Telling Pastor Mike that story of her "good friend," that was Linden telling Holder where she was. Pastor Mike was confused as to why she was telling him all that, but Holder wasn't. It was the break he'd been waiting for, and he was the only one who would have understood the clue that it was.
Holder grabbed his jacket and ran out of the Task Force room as the whole room scrambled to life around him. He tore down the hall, rounding the corner and almost colliding with several officers and one civilian who were in the middle of what appeared to be a serious conversation. Without stopping to apologize, without even a glance in their direction, Holder ran the rest of the way out of the station, nearly knocking over a newbie who was walking down the hall carefully balancing three cups of coffee, slowing only just enough to throw the doors open at the end of the hall so that he could get out of the building.
"Holder!" he heard someone yelling behind him. He slowed down only slightly as he reached the parking lot, looking over his shoulder to see Reddick attempting to catch up with him. Holder may not have been in the best shape, but Reddick had definitely fallen victim to a less than healthy lifestyle, exacerbated by stake-outs and far too many unhealthy snacks, and there was no way he was catching up to Holder unless Holder let him.
Holder, however, turned back around and sprinted for his car, cursing under his breath as the keys dropped from his fingers in the wet parking lot in his rush to find the correct one to open the door. By the time he'd seated himself and put on his seatbelt, Reddick had made it to the car as well, panting from the effort. He got in the passenger seat and closed the door only a fraction of a second before Holder threw the car into reverse, the tires kicking up pebbles, then turned the car around forward and raced out of the parking lot, lights flashing and sirens blaring.
"Jesus, Holder," Reddick said under his breath, still fighting to catch his breath. Holder didn't even appear to have heard him. He stared directly ahead, a scowl on his face. Reddick was taken aback by his partner's actions. They'd been partners for a year, and he'd never seen Holder react like this to anything. Yeah, he knew that he and Linden were close, though he couldn't figure out for the life of him why Holder'd want to be friends with someone who was as much of a goddamn pain in the ass as Linden. But this behavior? Okay, it wasn't every day that your friend was found out to be with a psychopath so it was hard to compare his actions to anything. Still it seemed a little bit extreme. Maybe he'd misjudged something between the two of them along the way…
Reddick glanced at the speedometer, which was reading well above the speed that even police officers general drove at on this particular road. He clutched the handle on the car door. "Holder, we're not gonna get there if we crash on the way," he muttered, wondering why he was bothering since Holder didn't seem to be listening to him anyway. He glanced at Holder's face, which was as unreadable as a statue as he stared straight ahead, looking away from the road only for a second at a time to check his mirrors. This wasn't the Holder he knew, this person was far more intense.
Holder was muttering something. At first Reddick thought he was talking to him, then realized it was more like something he was chanting to himself, almost a mantra. He strained to make out what exactly it was that Holder was saying before he finally caught it. Holder was repeating the same thing over and over, under his breath. "Come on, Linden… Come on, Linden… Come on, Linden…"
It wasn't a secret that Reddick didn't like Linden, never had in all the time he'd known her. He knew that most people at the station didn't either, with the possible exceptions of Ray and Holder. He'd also heard that she and Skinner had had a thing going on back when they'd been partners, years ago. Still, the point was that she wasn't popular. She was abrasive and seemed to completely lack social skills. Not that he wouldn't have gone along with the others to look for her now that they had a solid lead. She was a cop, after all, and one of their own. But what he was seeing from Holder right now? He didn't understand it, not one bit.
"Fuck!" Holder yelled vehemently as traffic came to a halt up ahead. He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel, hard enough that Reddick imagined that it had probably hurt. Traffic cleared, but only gradually, as the drivers seemed to just have noticed the lights and sirens of the police convoy behind them as they made their way to Biltmore Pier. "Come on, come on!" Holder growled at the cars ahead of them.
Please don't let it be too late, Holder begged silently as his destination finally came into view. He barely took the time to shift the car into park before he jumped out, surrounded by numerous marked police cars, officers spilling from their doors and leaving their lights also flashing. It would have been clear from across the water that something was happening, with all of the lights.
In the fog at the end of the pier he could make out two shapes sitting upright. Thank God, he thought, but knew it wasn't over yet. Still, at least they weren't too late… not yet anyway.