Chapter Two: Dr. Kroger Meets Lieutenant Parker

Troy Kroger was a bit put out – it wasn't cold enough in Toronto to use his parka. This was Canada…everything in Canada was supposed to be cold enough for a parka! But saying that would make him look even more like a tourist than the parka did, so he didn't say it. Instead, he left his parka in his hotel room and shivered all the way to where he was supposed to meet Dr. Toth. Not cold enough for a parka, but not warm enough for a native Californian, either. What kinda place was this, Chicago? Maybe – ugh – New York?

He had to blink at the meeting location – it looked like a police department. Why was he meeting his father's old acquaintance in a police station? Still, he mustered up his courage, slung his laptop bag a bit higher on his shoulder, and marched in, head high as he tried not to shiver. Inside, he hesitantly approached the desk, eyeing the black lady behind the counter. She looked worn around the edges and worried. As he came closer, her dark eyes lifted to him, but one hand gestured for him to wait as the other hand touched her headset.

"Police Strategic Response Unit." She listened for several seconds, nodding as the other person spoke, and reached for her keyboard. Troy jumped as an alarm went off, wailing loud in the whole station. "Team Four, hot call! Team Four, hot call!"

Two men hustled out of what looked like a workout room, reaching the desk in moments. "Winnie! What do we got?" one of them yelled over the alarm.

"Robbery that went south downtown," she called back. "Subjects are on the move with three hostages."

"Copy," the one man acknowledged, turning to his teammates. "You heard her, Team Four! Let's move!" Glancing over his shoulder, he added, "Details to my phone!"

"Copy." The dispatcher's hands flew over her keyboard; Troy hung back until the alarm stopped blaring and her rapid-fire instructions to the field team tapered off. Before he could edge in again, she glanced up, forcing a smile. "Hi, can I help you?"

"Yeah, um… I'm Dr. Troy Kroger, here to see Dr. Toth…?"

She blinked, then a real, relieved smile spread across her face. "You're here to help Spike."

He was? Who – or what – was a Spike? "If I can," he offered.

Tapping her headset, the woman said, "Team Four, stepping away. I'll be right back; Spike's new therapist is here."

Troy couldn't hear the responses, but the woman's smile widened before she took her headset off. Standing up, she walked around her desk, gesturing for him to follow her. He caught up in four strides. "I take it everyone knows what happened to, um, Spike?"

Her mouth tightened. "Everyone in the know," she replied. "Team Two thinks he got caught in a hot call off-duty, but they know better than to gloat."

He hiked a brow, scenting a juicy story.

"Lieutenant Parker threatened them with suspension if they said anything to Team One. Then Team Three preemptively pranked their snack cooler."

The psychiatrist whistled under his breath. An officer who was well liked by his whole unit. One who had clearly not been caught in a hot call – whatever that was – while off-duty, but that probably made a fairly decent cover story. For what remained to be seen.

The woman guided him to an office door and knocked. At the call to, "Enter," she pushed it open and peeked inside. "Sir, Dr. Kroger is here."

"Thank you, Winnie; send him in." There was a pause. "You can stay if you'd like."

"Team Four has a hot call, sir," she replied, genuine regret in those words. Backing away from the door, she turned towards Troy and held out her hand. As he shook it, she said, "Welcome to Toronto, Dr. Kroger – and thank you for helping Spike."

He hadn't – hadn't even met the man – but Troy had a feeling he knew why she was saying it. It was the only way she could plead for him to stay, to help her friend. So he nodded as if she was stating a known fact instead of a hopeful future. "Thank you for showing me in, Officer…?"

"Winnie Camden." Her smile was wistful. "Constable Winnie Camden, Doctor."

Then she was gone, back to Team Four and that…hot call. Turning to the still open door, Troy stepped inside, nerves twisting his stomach inside out. Two men were waiting, one wearing a black and gray uniform with bronze maple leaves on both shoulders and the other wearing a crisp, well-pressed suit. He'd never met his father's old acquaintance before, but he held out his hand as the silver-haired man rose nonetheless. "Dr. Toth."

"Dr. Kroger," the other man acknowledged. "Welcome to Toronto. How was your flight?"

"Not too bad, although TSA's gotten even worse since the last time I flew."

The stocky half-bald officer chuckled as he rose to his feet as well. "Makes me grateful I don't fly much."

Troy blinked at a sudden twinkle in Dr. Toth's eyes, right before the man drawled, "As I recall, Lieutenant Parker, you are actually quite fond of flying."

"Nope, talk to mio nipotes for that," Parker retorted. "Or maybe Eddie." Flicking a glance towards the silver-haired doctor, he added, "I haven't flown since the day I came home from Colorado."

Dr. Toth sobered at once, a slight frown emerging, though Troy wasn't sure what the man was unhappy about. Why would you fly if you were already at your destination?

"Anyway…" Lieutenant Parker turned towards him, an appraising gleam shining. "You flew in from the States?"

"San Francisco. That's where I'm from." And he was so not expecting the sudden darkening of the other man's hazel eyes.

"Larry." A world of displeasure, packed in one single word. Troy was abruptly reminded of his father.

"Lieutenant, have you any idea how difficult it is to find a psychiatrist willing to accept something they've never encountered before? Particularly since I myself have no way of proving anything."

The officer pinched the bridge of his nose, hazel sliding closed as he grimaced. "Why do you think I've never looked into this before?"

"A fair point," Dr. Toth murmured. "And one I had never fully appreciated until now. Certainly, there have been multiple situations which would've otherwise warranted intervention." He sighed, indicating Troy. "Dr. Kroger has only just finished his studies, Lieutenant, and he is not unfamiliar with unusual cases. His father's final years were spent with a very unique patient, one whose circumstances I had never seen exceeded until I was fully read in on your team."

"Adrian Monk," Troy filled in, trying not to bristle. "How come you told me to make sure he stayed away?"

He was met with two sets of blank eyes. "I did no such thing," Dr. Toth denied.

"The email I got with my travel arrangements sure did," Troy countered.

Parker blinked, then reached up and rubbed his face. "Can I see it, Doctor?"

Troy reared back, then shrugged and swung his bag off his shoulder. It didn't take long to boot the laptop and use his phone's mobile hotspot to get his email up and running. Once he had the travel itinerary on the screen, he turned the computer towards the officer.

Lieutenant Parker leaned forward, examining the email with a narrow, closed expression. His eyes narrowed further at the sight of the seal and bank name at the bottom of the email; resignation peeked through as he read the note. Grimacing, he pulled back, muttering, "Silnok," under his breath, exasperation evident.

"Lieutenant?"

The stocky officer shook his head. "Larry, I don't have authority to read an American onto the Act. You know that."

"That did not stop you when Scarlatti and Wordsworth were kidnapped."

"Three of their superiors already knew and we only did that after they saw the video. And had figured it out already."

Dr. Toth sighed. "Parker, our options are limited. You and I both know Scarlatti needs counseling, particularly in the wake of Constable Young's report. The longer he goes without help, the more precarious his mental state will become."

As Dr. Toth spoke, the stocky man's expression went rigid, hiding his thoughts behind a well-practiced mask. Troy fidgeted, unsure of what he could say or even what the problem was. If they needed help so desperately that they were willing to contact a kid just out of school, why would it matter that he was an American?

Even as he stared, Parker sagged, a hint of desolation peeking through the mask. With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand through his remnants of graying brown hair and nodded. Hazel shifted to Troy, weighing factors the young doctor could only guess at.

"This isn't something you'll be able to tell your friends and family about."

He bristled. "I know Doctor-Patient confidentiality, Lieutenant Parker."

A sardonic grin. "We've already gone way beyond that, Dr. Kroger. What I'm about to tell you does not fall under that, but it does fall under Canada's Official Secrets Act." A breath. "And from what I understand, America's laws are far, far stricter than Canada's when it comes to this particular subject."

Troy eyed the other men, rather skeptical. "A Toronto police lieutenant has clearance for classified information?"

Parker's laugh sounded bitter. "You're at the top of the rabbit hole, Dr. Kroger." Reaching down, he pulled a drawer open and flipped through the contents until he located a sheet of paper. He tugged it loose and grabbed a pen from another drawer. Laying both down, he said, "Read that through and decide if you want to go any further, Doctor. Neither Dr. Toth nor I will think any less of you if you say, 'No.' It's certainly not for the faint of heart." He paused, considering. "Or the shallow of imagination."

Dr. Toth snorted, belatedly attempting to cover it with a cough as Parker raised an eyebrow in his direction. Glancing between them, Troy recalled the older doctor's remarks about impossible and improbable and realized…the lieutenant wasn't kidding around. At all.


Troy had never signed a non-disclosure agreement before, but this one seemed fairly standard, all things considered. Nothing deep, dark, or mysterious about it in the slightest. He was a bit puzzled by the name – the Official Secrets Act. According to a quick search on his phone, Canada's Official Secrets Act had been replaced after 9/11. So why was he signing an NDA for something that didn't exist anymore?

Twirling the pen between his fingers, the young doctor looked up from the paper at his two hosts. "So…what's with this? I mean…the Official Secrets Act?"

"Most of it was repealed," Lieutenant Parker replied, nodding to acknowledge Troy's point. "As for the rest…" He considered, tilting his head. "Some provisions couldn't be repealed without a new agreement in place." His jaw pulled tight in a sardonic grin. "From what I've heard, the only thing both sides could agree on is that they still didn't want anything to do with each other, so they just left the Official Secrets Act alone."

One hand reached up, rubbing his chin and drawing a soft rasp from stubble he'd missed while shaving. Tapping the paper with his other hand, Troy said, "This really doesn't tell me anything."

"No, it doesn't," Parker agreed.

"Maybe you could give me a hint of what I'm signing onto?" He quirked a crooked grin of his own. "Rather not find out that I've just signed my firstborn away."

To his surprise, the other two men traded a solemn glance, as if his weak joke – hadn't been. Then the lieutenant sighed. "Dr. Kroger, one of the provisions of the Official Secrets Act requires that I only share what I know with those who are cleared to know. You make a good point, but this is the sort of thing that hints aren't going to do much for." A rueful expression spread. "Hints are too easy to explain away."

Oh. Troy gazed down at the paper, thinking hard as he realized. Dr. Toth had given him a hint, only it was really too cryptic to use as a clue. He'd looked it up, yeah, but what did Sherlock Holmes have to do with anything? Or was it more about the words themselves? When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. But what was impossible? What was improbable?

Then he remembered the way the black lady – Constable Camden – had looked at him once she knew why he'd come. The plea for him to help her friend. As if she was afraid of what might happen if her friend didn't get help. They were desperate. Desperate enough to recruit a psychiatrist just out of school who hadn't seen a single patient. It didn't make sense, it was impossible – Dr. Toth was a veteran psychologist with dozens, if not hundreds of experienced professional colleagues. Why couldn't he call any of them?

So. That was the impossible. What was the improbable? He didn't know – wouldn't know unless he signed the paper in front of him. If he walked away, he'd always wonder. He'd wonder what the secret was and he'd wonder about Camden's friend. He'd wonder if the man had survived, moved past whatever trauma he'd endured.

And he'd have to go back to California and keep looking for a residency that might not ever materialize, watching his and his mother's savings dwindle away, month by month. Thinking of his mother, how hopeful she'd been when she'd dropped him off at the airport, Troy Kroger screwed up his courage and signed the NDA.

Without letting himself think about it, he held the document out to Lieutenant Parker. The officer took it, looked it over, and nodded before signing just below Troy's name as witness. Then he tucked the paper away in his desk and rose. "Before we go out, please shut down your computer and put it back in your bag. Same with your phone."

"Why?" Troy questioned, suspicious.

The officer grimaced, thought for a moment, then perked up and strode to his nearby closet. He opened it up and dug through it for several seconds. When he turned, holding up an item, Troy blinked. It was an old handheld radio. Parker walked back to his desk, playing with the radio, though Troy couldn't quite see what he was doing.

As he reached the desk, Parker pulled his hands apart, revealing both sides of the radio's internals. Blue eyes widened at the sight of the blackened components, as if a small bomb had gone off inside the radio. Dr. Toth whistled low. "What happened to that, Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Parker sighed, old grief sliding through his eyes. "Giles is actually our third liaison, Larry. Our first…" He trailed off. "He was an arrogant jerk who treated us all like imbeciles; when Sam joined the team, he ran me in paperwork circles for weeks. Never did tell me Sam was already signed onto the Act. Not a single one of us liked him at all, but he was the only guy who'd volunteered for the job." The stocky man's shoulders slumped. "Then he died saving my life."

Troy gawked and Dr. Toth was rather taken aback as well.

Grief turned wistful. "Brian Wilkins. Good man, good cop. After he died, Commander Locksley went through his whole office, but she couldn't find the file he'd put together on who should be his successor once he retired. Took almost a month before we got a new liaison." Hazel darkened. "Julian Anderson."

"I recall that file," Dr. Toth drawled. "Though I wasn't aware your team had worked with him."

"For all of a day," Parker countered. Flicking a glance at the confused Troy, he explained, "Anderson kidnapped two little girls, both daughters of law enforcement officers. One of the fathers is on Team One. The other one worked with Brian. Long story very short, my constable was the one who found the girls first." Gesturing with the broken radio, the lieutenant added, "This was Wordy's radio at the time. Perfectly functional, with the range to connect him to the whole team, even across half the city. Right up until Anderson attacked him."

Troy eyed the device warily. "You're not planning on attacking me, though, are you?"

Startled, the officer laughed. "No, I'm not. But this is what can happen to any form of technology that's not specifically designed to withstand what we're about to show you."

"You need me to shut down my computer and my phone so they won't get trashed?"

"Yes," the officer confirmed.

Although he wasn't quite sure he bought that whole explanation, Troy Kroger shrugged and powered down both devices before tucking them away in his backpack. To his surprise, Parker gestured for him to leave the backpack where it was and guided both psychiatrists out of his office, locking it behind them.

Leading them out of the office area, he headed for the dispatcher desk. The black lady looked up from her computer, one brow rising. "Winnie, Team Two location check."

"Shift isn't till this evening, sir," she replied. "None of them have come in to do any off-duty workouts either."

"Copy. Let me know if that changes."

With that, the stocky officer gestured for the psychiatrists to follow him again and strode towards a ramp that led deeper into the station. Troy peered around, curious about the inner workings of a police station, but the hallways were plain and unadorned, just like any other institutional building. There were plaques and signs adorning the walls every so often, commemorating officers and keeping the station inhabitants up-to-date on current or upcoming events, but it wasn't until they passed an area labeled 'gun cage' and he heard a muffled shot from behind a door marked 'range' that he saw the differences between this building and his old high school.

Parker guided them to a door that led outside, behind the station. Outside, grass fields spread out on either side and in front of them; two buildings sat at a distance, both of them looking rather industrial. It wasn't until they got closer that Troy figured out what they were for – training. One was two stories and the other three, but if he had to guess, they were all open plan, easy to set up for whatever scenario the officers needed to train on.

Dr. Toth arched a brow as Parker headed for the three-story building, but said nothing until all three men were inside. Then he glanced at the officer. "I notice you didn't call Commander Locksley. Do you intend to do the introduction yourself?"

"Nope, don't need to," the lieutenant replied. Then he put two fingers to his mouth and whistled.

Above them, Troy heard something clatter – as if someone was running across tile or concrete on the second floor. Definitely not a person, most likely an animal with hard nails. One of his friends had a big dog in a home with hard wood floors and if she got excited, she made that exact same sound when she ran.

The oddity was that the clattering was getting closer, as if the animal wasn't running towards the stairs. The brunet looked up, spying a hole in the ceiling, probably meant for some kind of training, but the distance… Any animal that jumped through that hole was in for a world of pain. He glanced towards Parker, eyes wide – surely the other man was smart enough to know his animal was going to get hurt – but the officer only offered a wan smile.

Troy looked up again in time to see the animal dive through the hole in a flash of purple, yellow, and orange. Then small wings spread and the animal curved in midair, circling down towards them. His jaw fell open – was that a dragon? A baby dragon? But…but…dragons weren't real

The animal cruised through another circle, then folded its wings and plummeted the last few inches to land on all four paws. Big purple eyes rose to regard the three humans and those yellow-orange wings flexed upwards an instant. A yellow acorn thing waved in the air, attached to a tail just as purple as the animal's eyes. Troy's blue eyes widened as he took in the whole package. Four paws – with sharp talons. A supple purple hide, studded with scales here and there. Horns and a yellow fringe that resembled a saw blade. A lizard-like body, tail, and snout, plus the miniature fangs that flashed in the animal's smile.

"Hi, I'm Spyro; who're you?"

He yelped, jumping a foot and landing much closer to the door than he'd been before. "What the heck is that?!"

The animal rolled its eyes. "Hey, what's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a dragon before, bunky?"

Parker hiked an eyebrow, utterly unconcerned by the talking – oh, dear gawd, was that really a dragon? "Bunky?"

The fangs flashed again as the animal grinned up at the lieutenant, wings flexing and tail lashing around. "Dean showed us some of The Real Ghostbusters last night, Dragonlord Sarge! I like Peter the best."

Dr. Toth swallowed a chuckle and turned towards Troy. "Not, perhaps, the introduction I would have started with, Dr. Kroger. But quite effective, nonetheless."

"Larry, your introduction to magic was a lot better than mine," Lieutenant Parker countered. He glanced towards Troy and elaborated. "Wakeup call at 3 AM. Guy at my door with two kids. They come in and the guy essentially says, 'Magic's real, here's your orphan cousins who just saw their parents murdered two nights ago, and oh, by the way, you have to keep anyone from finding out they're wizards.' Then he takes off without letting me ask any questions."

"And how long did that last, pray tell?" Dr. Toth inquired as the little dragon let out an outraged squall in the background.

"Not even eight hours," Parker admitted. "By the end of the shift, my whole team knew." He flicked a glance at Troy. "I figured Spyro here would be easier than me trying to explain the whole mess." He nudged the dragon gently with the toe of one boot. "Hard to argue with magic being real once you've met your first magical creature."

Staring down at the purple dragon giving him a fangy grin, Troy was hard pressed to disagree.


Author note: I hope everyone enjoyed.

For those of you who have been praying for me, thank you very much. As a RL update, I have been trying to work with my company to get out of my current work project. While I love Pega Development, my client manager has, for the past year, been assigning me to administrative/managerial work (basically, he's been giving me his work to do!) I have been trying to endure, but the situation has reached a point where the stress of these admin activities is negatively affecting my entire life.

My company has agreed to pull me out, but first they need to find a replacement for me. So even though the wheels were turning, I was still stuck in the situation and I was very upset that the client manager would not give me a mere 30 minutes of his time to discuss my concerns.

This week, I was talking to a friend about what's going on with my work. She told me that I was beginning to act in a passive-aggressive fashion towards my client manager and rightfully admonished me that passive-aggression is not the right response to the situation. She advised me to reach out to the client manager again and lay all my cards on the table.

When I did so, the client manager immediately escalated to my company and demanded that I be replaced, claiming that I was refusing to complete basic work activities. I did make a compromise on one of the issues I brought up and that seems to have calmed the situation down again, but what is rather odd is that the client manager has not directly communicated with me since last Friday, when he essentially told me, 'You have to do what I tell you to do, because I am your boss.'

Please pray that the Lord's Will be done in this situation and that He would guide me through this situation.

Finally,

Happy 4th of July, my fellow Americans!