Chapter Twelve
The Lost and Found
"This is rescue team one. Holler if you can hear me!" Bailey shouted as she shone her flashlight around the debris.
Three other firefighters moved in after her and scoured the area. They walked in a row, mindful of where they put their feet, afraid they would accidentally step on one of the injured men and women.
"Please, John-," Bailey mused under her breath, "-please be okay."
"Fire engine 53 to rescue team one," the firefighter in charge called over the radio. "What's the situation down there?"
"Nune here, sir. It doesn't look promising. There is a lot of debris. The explosion must have been powerful to cause all this damage. So far, no contact."
"Keep searching. We've delayed long enough getting to where we are now. If they – by some miracle – are still alive, it might not be for long."
"Yes, sir," she replied and nodded at her team. "You heard the man. Keep up the pace, work faster. They must be here somewhere."
Bailey clipped her radio to her belt and frowned as there was another call.
"Get back out here, Nune. You're on the wrong side of the building," the lieutenant said.
"How can you be so sure?" she asked.
"Because your fiancé's badge just flew up in the air and landed in the grass."
'John', Bailey thought with relief. "We're turning around."
OOOOOO
"I've got something," Daniels said as she continued typing on her laptop.
Grey and Thorsen quickly made their way over from either end of the mobile center.
She pulled up a company logo on the screens above her head.
"Mastermind Media," Grey read aloud.
"Yes, even the smartest psychopaths are leaving bread crumps. Sometimes it's intentional, in this case I think it is. She really wants us to know she has planned the whole thing. Why not? We can't arrest a dead woman."
"But we can bring the living to justice," Grey pointed out.
Thorsen frowned. "The family is in the business; mum owns her own production company. I've never heard of Mastermind Media."
"And you shouldn't have," Daniels replied. "Mastermind Media has not produced anything but a commercial advertiser with clowns."
"Who's the founder?" Grey added sarcastically. "Don't tell me it's Rosalind Dyer or Oscar Hutchinson."
Daniels smirked. "No, his name is Christopher Sanford."
OOOOOO
ADA Sean Del Monte watched as Sergeant Grey walked into the DA's office flanked by two police officers and an FBI agent.
In the capacity of the most senior ADA at the office he walked out to greet them. "Sergeant Grey. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"You can tell me where ADA Sanford is," he said seriously.
"In his office. I tried sending him home earlier. He was pretty shaken up seeing the news."
"I bet he was," Grey replied coldly.
"Is there something wrong?" Del Monte asked, sensing the hostility in the other man's voice.
"If the intel we have is true, ADA Sanford is looking at a future in prison," he replied cryptically.
Del Monte chuckled skeptically. "That is absurd. You can't really believe Sanford has anything to do with the explosion earlier today."
"Assistant District Attorney Del Monte," Daniels began softly. "FBI have reason to believe that ADA Sanford has troubling connections to the incident. What they are I can't discuss any further with you."
"Agent Daniels-," he began, recalling her role in the arrest of Rosalind Dyer, "-behavioral expert at the FBI. I remember you and I am grateful that you aided Detective Armstrong - brought him the tools he needed in order to bring Dyer to justice – however, what I don't understand is why you would think Sanford has anything to do with Dyer, especially since she almost killed him a year ago."
"His office is this way," Grey said to Daniels.
OOOOOO
Thorsen walked into the mobile command center, the mobile phone in one hand and the radio in the other. It wasn't that he didn't rise to the occasion or stepped up to his game it just felt weird standing there as the man temporarily in charge. Grey and Daniels had left to talk with Sanford, Harper and Lopez had just reported they'd go to the last known address of Mastermind Media, taking Jan and Rex with them. Aaron would have volunteered to come with them if he could but as it was, he had enough on his plate with the LAFD, the reporters and news crews, the crowd outside and a shift change. While he had high ambitions of becoming a good detective, he realized he wasn't cut out to do what he was currently doing, he lacked the necessary training and experience for that. He would gladly give the reins back to Grey as soon as he turned up again.
He frowned as Bailey suddenly sprinted over the uneven ground next to the building while another firefighter crew began to set up their gear, getting ready to repel down inside the remains of the once proud two-story house. He heard the wailing sirens of rescue vehicles closing in on their location and then saw an ambulance pull up next to the firetruck.
Hope rose within him; they must have found them. Aaron turned and headed for the door, wanting to be amongst the first to reach his colleagues again.
"Officer Thorsen?" Officer Jacobs called as he began to jog away.
He cast a glance over his shoulder and stopped as he saw the worried look on Karla Juarez's face. "I think they've reached them!" he called.
OOOOOO
They pulled up the car across the street.
"Dispatch, this is 2331. We have arrived at planned destination, awaiting support."
"Dispatch – 2331 – acknowledged," the voice at the other end responded.
Harper turned around in the front passenger seat. "And here comes the cavalry," she said as two patrol cars glided up behind them.
"Dispatch – 7-adam-18 – have arrived at location to assist 2331," Jan reported as he parked the car.
"Dispatch – 7-lincoln-12 – arriving on location to assist 2331," Smitty drawled.
"Dispatch – 7-adam-18 and 7-lincoln-12 – acknowledged," the radio operator said.
They gathered behind Jan and Rex's shop, donning their vests, checking the weapons.
"What happened? Did you take a wrong turn somewhere?" Harper asked curiously.
Smitty lazily waved his hand in the air. "Was a bit crowded back at the house. Figured I'd be better off here as a backup, overlooking the premises," he reasoned.
Lopez smirked and nodded faintly. "You think so?"
"Smitty is going to look out for our shops while we are gone," Nyla smirked as she walked up to Rex and Jan who had moved up to the front of their car. Jan watching through binoculars for anything out of the ordinary.
"He's not coming?" Rex asked a little surprised.
Jan looked amused and annoyed at the same time. "You've been here for almost a year Rex. Haven't you figured out by now that Smitty is a coffee and donut kind of guy? He likes to chill wherever he goes. He even claims he is allergic to paperwork."
Harper laughed at the miserable look on Rex's face and slapped him on the shoulder. She nodded at her partner as Lopez joined them.
"Seeing anything?" Lopez asked.
Jan shook his head. "No activity," he replied. "But there's a security camera to the right."
Harper took the lead as the senior detective on site, the others following tightly behind. The four of them stealthily made their way over to a back entrance. They stopped next to an old and worn steel door. There was a padlock in place and a sign, warning anyone not to trespass.
'Why the extra security?' Lopez thought curiously. 'Trying to avoid squatters? Storing something no one was supposed to see?' It wasn't a very welcoming place to what was supposed to be the office of media production company.
"Now what?" Rex whispered. "We don't have a warrant yet."
"Now it's time for Smitty to check out the main entrance," Lopez said with a wicked smile.
A minute later the black and white police car pulled up on the other side of the large dilapidated factory and a lanky police officer got out on the driver's side. He pursed his lips and frowned as he glanced up at the sliding glass doors situated a few steps above ground level. Walking briskly yet relaxed he produced a flyer from his pocket and headed inside.
"Hello-," a young man dressed as a clown, said jovially as he walked up to greet the officer, clasping his hands together. "-how can I help you?"
"I got a tip actually-," he showed the other man the flyer. "-says here Mastermind Media offers a few bucks for a commercial. "Drive a car, dress like a clown, earn some money."
Smitty studied the man as he took the paper from him. "The job might already be taken given what you are wearing," he joked.
"I didn't think a police officer would come here for such a simple job?" the clown said kindly. "Taking a look at you, I see a middle-aged man - in his prime - having a good life and a good income."
"That is, since you are assuming I am actually a real police officer," he joked with a smile. "I like to dress up occasionally, today I felt like an officer."
The clown looked uncertain for a moment, not sure if the man was pulling his leg or not. "Why don't you wait here and I'll go find Bailey. She's the woman on everyone's lips around here."
Harper and Lopez felt their blood run cold as they listened in on the conversation.
"Oscar's name on the money transfers, Chris as the owner of the company, now the manager is called Bailey," Nyla said, her voice subdued.
"That's it, we're moving in," Lopez said resolutely. "We're taking the main entrance."
"Dispatch – 2331. We are entering the premises to question the manager."
"2331 – dispatch – acknowledged."
OOOOOO
Bailey's heart pumped loudly in her chest as adrenaline spiked. She stopped next to a colleague who was laying on all fours, securing a rope. Bailey lay herself flat on the stomach and shone the flashlight down through the pillars and columns of the structure and froze as the beam landed upon John. He glanced up at her, squinting a little at the bright light.
"John!" she shouted.
"Oh, thank heavens," he said with relief, a faint pale smile on his dusty face. He sighed and sagged against the wall. Finally, he could rest, his fiancée and her team would have them up and out of there in no time.
Bailey shook her head. "No, no. John!" she called. "You have to stay awake."
"Hurry up!" the lieutenant called out to her right. "Come on people, the boys and girls in blue needs some help. We're wasted too much time already."
Bailey dejectedly shone the flashlight around the cramped space below and took in the appearance of John's friends – their friends – she corrected. John's rookie, John's friend from the academy and his superior officer. She forced a smile on her face as she saw Bradford gazing up at her – looking more dead than alive.
"Tim?" she called. "My colleague and I are coming down what can we expect?"
The sergeant pursed his lips, he was so cold all of a sudden. He remembered a time when he, Celina, John and Lucy had been the ones standing above, looking down at the miserable Bailey when she was trapped in a tank.
"Tim," she said and he frowned as she suddenly stood beside him.
"How did you get down here?" he managed.
"It's not looking good," Barry said seriously as he turned to Bailey. "We need the EMTs down here stat."
Bailey swallowed as she saw the four of them up close.
"Officer Juarez has sustained a pretty bad concussion, Officer Chen is having trouble breathing, looks like she's broken a couple of ribs," Barry reported as Bailey sat down between John and Tim. "Officer Nolan has got this metal rod embedded in his calf. I don't dare to touch it. Sergeant Bradford has lost a lot of blood; he will be going into shock any time. I am surprised he's still with us."
Bailey tilted her head upwards. "Medics! We need medics and stretchers! Send Sarah and Jamie down here now!"
The order was confirmed as people started shuffling above their heads. Bailey refocused on those she had close. She gently reached out a hand to touch Nolan's cheek in a loving yet worried gesture. She then put two fingers under his chin, praying she would find a strong pulse.
Tim weakly elbowed Lucy. "Hey, sleepyhead," he called softly. "Your pillow wants to talk to you."
She moaned in reply.
"Lucy?" Tim called again.
She sluggishly opened her eyes and noted with delighted surprise that Bailey was there with them. "I am hallucinating."
"No, you're not," Bailey said softly as she reached across Tim to gently place a hand on Lucy's shoulder. "It will be fine now. We are going to get you out of here."
"How's Celina?" Tim asked, his voice no more than a whisper.
"She's unconscious," Barry replied seriously as the first paramedic freed herself from the rope and made her way over.
Bailey noted Tim's bloodstained hand was slowly gliding down his side. "You've got to keep pressure on that," she said seriously as the other paramedic put his feet on the ground next to them.
"I've got it," Jamie reassured her. "Help Barry get the first one rigged up for transport."
Bailey tried to give Bradford a reassuring smile but wasn't sure she had it in her. "You'll be fine, Tim," she said kindly.
"My fault," Nolan suddenly mumbled.
"No, John, it is not your fault," Bailey tried to tell him. "It's all on Rosalind."
OOOOOO
To be continued