In Pursuit of Justice (35 page)

Sloan took a long slow breath. “I love you. Everything is gong to be okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

As she lifted Michael’s hand to her lips, she closed her eyes and prayed.

*

An hour later, Sloan, Rebecca, and Avery Clark gathered in yet another unmemorable conference room at University Hospital. They had to meet there, because Sloan wouldn’t leave the building until Michael’s repeat CAT scans were done and Torveau decided if surgery was needed on her damaged kidney. Rebecca watched warily as Clark and Sloan eyed each other across the ten-foot space, ready to dive between them yet again if the tension in the air became physical.

“If I’ve got some reason to apologize,” Sloan said flatly, watching Clark’s face, “I will. But I’m not convinced that I do. You find out in the morning that I’m close to nailing someone and that evening a car tries to run me down. That seems just a little too coincidental.”

Clark looked from Sloan to Rebecca, judging the battle lines and allegiances. Shrugging as if to acknowledge that he was outnumbered, he then sat down and gestured with a hand for them to do the same. “Look,” he began resignedly, “I can tell you what I know, but I don’t have the answers you’re looking for.”


Any
answers would be a start,” Rebecca interjected sharply. “There are holes in this investigation big enough to drive a truck through. What’s the real purpose behind what you’ve got us doing?”

“This
is
a legitimate attempt to expose the child pornography ring that we believe is operating in this area,” he insisted. “We don’t know yet how deep or how far this kind of Internet crime extends, but it’s much broader and already more technologically sophisticated than we ever dreamed. And the dispersion of the actual pornography is just one small piece of it. It ties closely to child prostitution, and
that
ties strongly to organized crime. Because of that, it’s a priority with any number of federal agencies as well as your own department. We’re the advance team, in a sense.”

The two women waited in silence. There was more; there was always more.

“The situation in this city is slightly more complicated.” He hesitated, glanced at Rebecca, then shrugged. “We’ve suspected for a long time that organized crime had compromised local law enforcement at the highest levels. It’s a legacy that goes back forty years or more. It’s less overt now, but it’s still there.”

“Every city has that kind of corruption to some extent,” Rebecca remarked impatiently. “It’s a fact of life. What’s that got to do with us?”

Clark shook his head angrily. “Every time we get close to the syndicate in this region, our eyewitnesses disappear, our evidence gets lost, or some jurisdictional
oversight
results in the case being thrown out before we ever get to court.”

“So you’ve got a leak,” Sloan said through gritted teeth, frustrated with the typical circumspect vagaries she thought had been left behind when she’d left Justice. “Or else
you’re
the problem.”

“It’s not our leak.” Clark sagged slightly, looking suddenly drained. “We were close to getting names a few months ago. We had a good pipeline to inside information—an undercover agent who was putting together the links we needed to go right to the top.” His expression darkened. “And then someone took him out.”

“Someone was cleaning house,” Rebecca said grimly. “We lost cops then, too. My partner was one of them.”

“That’s something we have in common, Detective,” Clark said with a frustrated sigh. “Jimmy Hogan was one of mine.”

“What?” Rebecca exclaimed sharply, body tensing. “Hogan was an undercover narcotics agent for the Philadelphia PD.”

“He was also a United States Justice Department investigator.”

For a moment, the room was silent, and then Rebecca said quietly, “So Hogan was doing double duty, and he was going to help you make a federal case against the Zamora crime family. That was his ultimate agenda, and the narcotics angle was just a cover—right?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Screw that! Did you know he was going to give us the intel on the kiddie prostitution ring?”

“It was important for his cover that he function as a cop as well, and it seemed fair to feed you some information on that. We were only interested in the guys at the top.”

“But someone found out about it,” Rebecca said. “And took him down. My partner just happened to be with him.”

“That’s how we read it,” Clark acknowledged unhappily. “When we set up this task force, I wanted to keep it small so that something like what happened to Jimmy wouldn’t happen again. The fewer people who know what we’re doing, the safer I figured we’d be.”

“Any ideas about the identity of the leak?” Sloan asked grimly, her attention on Rebecca now. Apparently Clark had convinced her of his veracity.

“Theories, nothing more at this point,” the detective replied with a shrug. First and foremost, she was a cop. She didn’t indict other cops without evidence, and she had none. Avery Clark might be telling the truth; in fact, she thought that he probably was. But that didn’t mean he was telling
all
of the truth, and it didn’t mean he could be trusted. Until she had something concrete, and maybe not even then, she didn’t intend to share what she knew. Or even what she suspected.

“It looks like we’ll need to shelve tonight’s operation,” Clark said.

Sloan’s head snapped around to him. “Why?”

“We’re compromised,” he pointed out. “Someone clearly felt threatened—and they know your name.”

“I don’t think that means the operation is blown,” Rebecca disagreed. “If the leak is inside the department somewhere, they don’t know the details of the meet or who it’s with, just the general plan. They only know we’re getting close to
someone—
a connection which might eventually lead right up the ladder to the child procurers and video distributors…and finally to the money men. It makes sense that they’d go after the individual who was the greatest threat to exposing that connection, and right now that person is Sloan.”

“I say we keep going,” Sloan said, a cold hard rage filling her chest. “It’s my lover they put in the hospital. I want them.”

“I agree,” Rebecca added. “If we don’t move now, eventually they’ll get word to all their people to lay low, including these Internet entry men. We’ll never have a better shot at it than tonight.”

“They may be waiting for you,” Clark pointed out. “They missed Sloan. They might try again at the meet. With McBride inside, you’ll have a potential hostage situation.”

Rebecca’s face was unreadable. “That was always a possibility. We’ll be prepared for that.”

“You’re running the ground show, Frye. It’s your call.”

“Then I say we go.”

“I want my people on board for the arrest,” Clark stated.

“They can ride backup,” Rebecca countered flatly. “We have to go in fast to protect Jason and secure the computers before this guy has a chance to destroy the evidence. That means a small strike force. I’ll run it with my people.”
People I can trust at my back.

“You should bring in the TAC squad and a hostage negotiator. Just in case it goes bad.”

“No,” Rebecca objected. “You know those guys would bring in two dozen men and a half dozen armored vans, and we’d lose the element of surprise. We go small and quiet.”

He looked for a moment like he would argue; then, seeming to relent, he replied, “At least bring your team shrink. You’ll have a negotiator present.”

Rebecca’s jaw clenched. “No way.”

Sloan regarded her steadily, suspecting that she knew the reason for Frye’s resistance. When Catherine Rawlings was in the room, something softened in the detective’s hard eyes. She said quietly, “Jason could be at risk.”

Rebecca hesitated a heartbeat, then blew out a breath. “Okay. But she rides backup with you, Clark. And she stays
in
the vehicle.”

“Fine,” he said, rising. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

“We’ll brief at 4:30 at Sloan’s,” Rebecca said tightly as he made for the door. When he’d closed it behind him, she turned to Sloan. “How’s Michael?”

“In and out. She…” Sloan faltered, her voice breaking. “Ah, fuck…” After a minute, she continued, “She opens her eyes for a second every now and then, but she doesn’t seem to recognize me.”

“That’s to be expected at this point, I guess.” She couldn’t think of a single thing to say that would help. Had it been Catherine…even contemplating that made her stomach roll with dread. “Jesus, I’m sorry, Sloan.”

Sloan looked away, swallowed once, then found her voice. “Thanks.”

“Is there anyone you can call in to help Jason tonight? I’ll need Mitchell for the strike force, and I don’t know if she’s computer savvy enough to handle your job anyhow.”

“I’ll be there,” Sloan said sharply.

“Look, Sloan,” Rebecca said evenly. “Things have changed. This operation is hot now, and we don’t know what we’re walking into tonight. You’re in no shape—”

“I’m okay.”

“Like hell you are. You haven’t even been to bed for almost two days.”

“They tried to kill me. They nearly killed Michael instead,” Sloan seethed. “I’m
owed,
Frye.”

“I need to be able to count on you. You’ve got…” She glanced at her watch. It was 3:50 a.m. Sunday morning. “You’ve got fifteen hours until this goes down. If you don’t sleep most of it, you’ll be a danger to all of us.”

Sloan rubbed her face with both hands and sighed. “I’ll sleep here. You have my word.”

“I need you sharp tonight, Sloan.”

“I know what I need to do. I’ll do it.”

Rebecca took a chance and took her at her word.

*

“I just reviewed your chest x-ray with the radiology resident. It’s normal.” Relief clearly evident in her voice, Catherine informed Rebecca of the good news as she emerged from the conference room.

“Good,” Rebecca replied. “How do
you
feel? You look beat.”

“I feel about how I look,” Catherine said with a wry smile. “How’s Sloan?”

“Ragged, but calmed down a bit.”

Catherine sensed an uneasiness in Rebecca’s voice. “What is it?”

“Clark thinks it would be a good idea if you came along on the operation tonight. A precautionary thing.” Just saying the words made her chest tighten with anxiety.

“What do you think?” Catherine asked carefully.

“I think he’s right, and it’s exactly what I did
not
want to have happen,” Rebecca said sharply. A glimpse of Blake, his gun to Catherine’s head, flashed through her mind. “God
damn
it.”

“It will be fine, Rebecca. It’s nothing like the last time.” When her lover merely nodded curtly, she commented gently, “We’re both tired. Let’s talk about it later.” Again Rebecca nodded silently, and Catherine asked, “What are you going to do now?”

“Drive back to Old City and check in with Watts and Mitchell.” As if anticipating Catherine’s next words, Rebecca added quietly, “Just for a few minutes. Then I’m sending Mitchell home and leaving the follow-up to Watts for the time being. I’ll meet you at your place in less than an hour.”

“All right.” Catherine understood that Rebecca couldn’t rest until she had taken care of these last details. She understood it, and she tried hard to accept it. It wasn’t easy, seeing the deep shadows under her lover’s eyes and remembering the pain on her face just hours before. Then again, she doubted that any of them looked fit for public presentation at the moment. “I’m going to leave in just a few minutes, too. I just want to check on Michael one more time.”

Rebecca grasped her hand and drew her around the corner into the deserted alcove in front the elevators. Then she pulled her into her arms and kissed her, hard. Finally releasing her, she said fervently, “You were incredible tonight. None of us would’ve gotten through this without you.”

“If things keep up this way,” Catherine said with a shaky laugh, “I’m going to have to take an emergency room medicine residency.”

“It’s not always like this,” Rebecca assured her swiftly.

“So you’ve said,” Catherine murmured softly, laying her head against Rebecca’s chest, just enjoying the solid comfort of her. “Come home soon. I want to hold you.”

Rebecca kissed her forehead, then held her tightly, refusing to think about anything beyond the moment when they could be together. “Sounds like just what I need.”

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