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FAKE First Year Together: A New Day (May)	By : BrittColumbia Category: +. to F > FAKE Views: 14597 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own FAKE, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 34
- 35
- 36
Fake
First Year together: A New Day (May)

Chapter
35

Fandom: Fake

Pairing: Dee/
Ryo

Rating:
Worksafe. There's always
swearing, however.

Spoilers: To
Volume 7

Timing: Set in
May, directly after book 7 ended

Summary: Ryo is
coming to terms with his new sexual identity, as well as the changes in his
relationship with Dee. Meanwhile,
Dee and Ryo are trying to find enough evidence to expose a crooked cop. This
story explores homophobic attitudes, but is primarily a love story between two
men.

Disclaimer: I do
not own Fake or any of the characters created by Sanami Matoh. Detectives
Shaver, Mitchell and Palmer are mine, however, along with Officer Vic Bhalla,
the tech guy. All the bad guys are
mine too.

Author's notes: TARU stands for Technical Assistance Response Unit.
OPP is an acronym for Ontario Provincial Police. Detective Danes is Marty, who
was only ever seen once in Sanami Matoh's
Fake. I gave him a last name
because I though he kind of needed one.
And – here comes JJ!
Please read and review.

Thank you to Mtemplar
and Moontatoo for beta-ing this chapter, and thanks to loki-the-fraud
for finding the Brooklyn Navy Yard for me!

A New
Day (May)

Chapter
35

Ryo didn't relish being the one to have to tell the Chief that
there was a mole at the 27th, but as he had never been one for procrastination,
he went to see him as soon as he returned from taking Bikky and Carol to meet
their lawyer. It was every bit as bad as he expected. The Chief raged and
blustered, and even kicked one of the two guest chairs over. He told Ryo that
he would talk to the Precinct commander about getting the names of anyone at
the 27th who might have been investigated by IA in the last three years.
However, they both knew that if there were any staff members who had been investigated
at another precinct, even Captain Forsythe likely wouldn't be able to get that
information.

"But the Commissioner could," Ryo had said. "He
could request a list of names and cross reference it against the names of all
27th personnel who were on shift yesterday."

"Yeah, we could certainly set that in motion, Randy. But
don't go kidding yourself that his secretary will get to that little make-work project in less than
three weeks."

"Dammit, Chief, you know I'd be willing to do it, if I
could."

"I know that Randy, but you and I don't have clearance. We
just have to let it go and hope it doesn't take six weeks. It really burns me
to think of that joker having an inside guy here in MY home precinct, though.
We're all gonna have to be more careful from now on."

Ryo had left the Chief's office even more determined to catch
Abernathy. He hated the fact that Abernathy, criminal that he was, could break
the law whenever it suited him, whereas the police who wanted to catch him had
to observe every nuance of protocol. Well, at least Detective Shaver seemed to
be coming around. Ryo felt an urgent need to keep the man alive if he could.

On the stairs, he passed the diligent and dutiful Helen trudging
down with her purse over her shoulder and her arms full of files, no doubt
heading home to spend the evening working hard for the Commissioner. Seeing her
caused the formation of an interesting but outrageous idea, which he considered
for a moment, and then dismissed. But he found he couldn't let go of it so
easily.

He sat in his office, brooding about it for the next half hour.
His mind kept going back to his conversation with the Commissioner the day
before, wherein he had been told that his integrity was too hard and
unyielding. After going over the pros and cons a few more times, he finally
decided to take a most uncharacteristic course of action. He couldn't help
grinning a little as he headed back down the stairs. Whether his plan was a
success or a failure, at least he would have the satisfaction of surprising the
hell out of Dee.

The voice on the other end of the phone was deep and masculine,
yet the extra-clear enunciation that was partially due to a privileged
upbringing and partially, in Ryo's opinion, a bit of an affectation, tended to
give it a vaguely cultured sound.

"Rose here. This had better be good."

"Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you," Ryo said, holding his
cell phone lightly to his ear, "but this is really important."

"That's all well and good," the Commissioner said.
"But to whom am I speaking?"

Ryo's mouth tightened in annoyance. He was sure the Commissioner
knew very well who was calling him.

"It's me, sir... Ryo MacLean."

"Ah," said the Commissioner. "I can't tell you how
delighted I am to be talking to 'Ryo' for a change, instead of that stuffy 'Detective'
MacLean or even 'Randy' MacLean. What can I do for you, Ryo? I take it you
perhaps need
something from me?"

"Sir, we've had an important breakthrough. There's a big deal
going down in Brooklyn tonight involving Corporate America and The Stone Bloods.
Detective Shaver is an invited guest and he's willing to wear a wire."

"He is, is he? I'm delighted to hear that. I assume you
thought better of your rather delightfully stubborn stance yesterday and said
what you had to in order to get Shaver to cooperate?"

"No, sir," Ryo said firmly, hating the smugness in the
Commissioner's voice. "He's willing to wear the wire anyway. He says this
one is on him because he appreciates the fact that we were honest with
him." He hoped that would give the Commissioner food for thought, but his
hopes were immediately knocked flat.

"I'm disappointed, Ryo. If this is just a one-off, where will
we be tomorrow? We have a lot of other work for Detective Shaver, don't forget.
While I'm very happy to hear that Detective Danes, whom I'm guessing is lending
you a hand in this pursuit, will be able to make a little progress on the work
he's been doing with the 62nd Precinct in their investigation of Corporate
America, I fail to understand how Detective Shaver's presence at this meeting
tonight will be of assistance in the matter of your investigation of Lieutenant
Abernathy."

"Shaver thinks the Dyre Street Devils are going to crash the
party. According to our information, Lieutenant Abernathy is now working with
the Devils."

"According to Shaver, you mean, who may or may not be telling
the truth. However, let us proceed under the assumption that he is. Do you
think Abernathy will be there tonight?"

"No, I don't. If the Devils attend the meeting, there'll be a
shoot-out and there's no way Abernathy would let himself get mixed up in
something like that. But he'll be nearby, though."

"Skulking?" The Commissioner's tone was sardonic, and
Ryo rolled his eyes, trying to be patient.

"No sir. He'll be low-key, but he'll be there in his official
capacity, probably with at least one of his detectives."

"Oh?" The Commissioner's voice had sharpened with
interest at last.

"If anyone asks, he's following Detective Shaver," Ryo
said, "A man whom he personally investigated and acquitted at the
beginning of this year. Now he's 'wondering if he made a mistake', so he's
doing an undercover investigation of him again. I bet you anything he has
already cleared this with Chief Hennessy."

"How do you know this, Ryo?" The Commissioner asked in
wondering tones.

"That's not important, sir," Ryo said, because he knew
he could never explain to the Commissioner that he didn't know it for a fact, it was more that he knew it in his
bones. "What's important is that Detective Shaver survives this meeting,
come what may. You put me in charge of this case, and I've called up a
surveillance van, some equipment and a team to assist. Marty's Brooklyn contacts are also bringing a
van."

"Good work, Ryo. That's exactly what I would have expected
you to do," said the Commissioner. "However, I'm still waiting to
hear what it is that you want from me. I'm sure you didn't call me at home at
almost eight p.m. just to give me a progress report."

"Sir, I really did want to give you a progress report, but
you're right. There IS something I'm hoping you'll let me have."

"Well, tell me what it is, Ryo," said the Commissioner,
and his voice dropped a note or two and took on that husky, slightly oily sound
that made all Ryo's danger instincts come alive. He was glad he was across town
from the Commissioner, because there was no way he could have said what he was
about to say if he had been in the same room as the man.

The Commissioner continued. "You know how much I would enjoy
meeting your needs, given the opportunity."

           Ryo
took the plunge. "Well, I'm glad to hear that sir, because I'm standing in
your office and I'm looking at that vest you ordered from Pinnacle. I want it
for Detective Shaver."

"You...You're in my office?"

Ryo was satisfied to note that he had never heard the Commissioner
sounding quite so taken aback before.

"Yes, sir. And I'm in front of your open closet. That's a
nice set of golf clubs you've got there, sir."

There was a brief silence from the other end of the line, during
which Ryo wondered if he had gone too far, dared too much. If he had but known
it, his bold move had aroused a grudging sense of admiration in the
Commissioner's heart.

Every time Rose thought he had Ryo pegged, he went and did
something charmingly unexpected like this. However, he hoped Ryo would refrain
from searching through his personal belongings. There were one or two things in
there that he would prefer no one knew about, especially Ryo.

"Ryo," he said in a deceptively mild voice. "I'm
quite certain that I locked that closet."

"What can I say sir? It's not a very good lock. It yielded to
persuasion." Ryo knew he was taking a huge chance by admitting that he had
picked the lock to the Commissioner's personal closet, but his instincts told
him that it was somehow going to be all right.

He was correct. He couldn't see it, of course, but the
Commissioner's face was wearing an incredulous grin. He couldn't believe that
Ryo was being honest with him about his transgression. Could it be that the
beautiful detective was finally beginning to trust him just a little? If so, it
wouldn't do to quash him, much as he hated the idea of that vest leaving his
office. It was the best quality bullet-proof vest that money could buy and it
had cost the 27th a pretty penny. If anything happened to it in tonight's operation,
he wouldn't be able to easily get another one, at least not in this calendar
year.

"Sir? Are you there?"

Commissioner Rose struggled with an urge to draw out the silence
and thus cause Detective MacLean's confidence to start ebbing away. However,
that wasn't really what he wanted, tempting though the thought might be.

"Yes, Ryo, I haven't gone anywhere." He sighed in a
long-suffering way. "I'm just attempting to digest the information that
one of my detectives, in fact the LAST detective I would have expected such
behavior from, has illicitly entered my office and obtained totally
unauthorized access to my personal closet. You surprise me, Ryo."

Ryo could hear the smile in the Commissioner's voice and he almost
sighed with relief. That was a good sign. For once, he was also relieved that
the Commissioner was still calling him Ryo, even though it normally bothered
him that Rose addressed every other detective in the building as 'Detective'
this or "Detective' that, but it was only Ryo that he singled out by his
first name. And it particularly bothered him to be called 'Ryo', a name that he
preferred to reserve for use by family and close friends. If the Commissioner
absolutely had to address him by his first name, he would have preferred
'Randy', which was his non-Japanese name. But right now, it was significant
that he was still 'Ryo'. What usually happened on those rare occasions where
the Commissioner was displeased with him or otherwise in a bad mood, was that
he would address him as 'Detective MacLean'. That hadn't happened on this
occasion, so he guessed his job was safe for the time being.

"I didn't think anything could surprise you, sir."

"I'm only human, Ryo, a point I feel you sometimes
forget."

"That's not true, sir. I've noticed you being quite fallibly
human on a number of occasions." Ryo couldn't help grinning.

That elicited a laugh from the Commissioner. "Touche, touche.
I don't know what's gotten into you tonight, Ryo, but it's
most...intriguing."

"Sir, I'm just taking your advice and trying out the
flexibility of my integrity, that's all. Oh, and I'm also all fired up about
the case, as well. Now may I please borrow the vest?"

"May I ask what's wrong with the extremely expensive and high
quality kevlar vests we recently paid twelve million dollars for? Shaver should
have his own."

"He can't go home, sir. The Devils were following him right
up until the point that Dee helped him go into hiding. They're probably waiting
for him at his apartment in the Bronx. Dee and I thought about lending him one
of ours, but even though Dee's and my vests are concealable under clothing,
they aren't going to do the job. They'll stop .44 and .357 rounds from a
distance of 15 feet, but if the Devils arrive, they'll be packing heavier ammo.
Shaver is going in as NYPD undercover, so he's obligated to testify on the
events of this evening. I want him back in one piece, and your Dragon is his
best chance."

"Ryo..." The Commissioner sighed again. "If it were
anyone else..."

"Does this mean you're letting me take the vest sir?"
Ryo couldn't keep the excitement from his voice.

"Yes, you might as well take it. But I want it spotless when
you return it. Make sure you wipe
it down properly after Detective Shaver no doubt perspires in it during the arduous evening that
awaits him."

"Thank you, sir. I'll take care of that."

"And, Ryo?"

"Yes?"

"Bring it back to me personally, with breakfast and without Detective Laytner, at 0800 hours
tomorrow. I'll expect a full report at that time."

Wondering how on earth he was going to explain that to Dee, Ryo
paused briefly before he answered. "Yes, sir. Thank you for being so
understanding about this."

"I'm a very understanding man, Ryo. I understand all sorts of
things that would come as a surprise to those who think they know me. But you're
most welcome and I look forward to our breakfast meeting tomorrow. I hope
you'll be able to bring me good news."

"I hope so too, sir. Good night."

&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^

"Why does it have to be MY apartment?" JJ complained,
rubbing at a ring left on his coffee table by someone's coffee cup. "You
guys are making a mess! Ryo is the only one who bothered to wipe his feet, and
I just got my carpets cleaned on Monday. You really ought to be doing this at
the precinct."

"Sorry, JJ, but that's not - Did you say Ryo was here?"
Dee swiveled his head around looking for his partner.

"Yeah, he's talking to those Brooklyn guys in the
kitchen." JJ gestured with his cleaning cloth. "But back to me and my apartment, if you don't mind. Whose
stupid idea was it to drag the whole dog and pony show here?"

"It was MY idea, and it's a fucking brilliant one, if I do
say so myself. I mean, think about it. The precinct is really not an an option.
This is a top-secret operation and if we take Shaver to the 27th, he might be
seen by whoever that spy is. Ryo's place is out on account of the kid, and my
place is out on account of the fact that the main guy we're after has done some
checking on me and we can't take the chance that he might be having my place
watched."

"Well, why not Drake's place or Ted's place?" JJ started
working on a sticky patch on the arm of his leather armchair where someone had
spilled some cream and sugar.

"You've seen Ted's place. It's only slightly bigger than our
gear lockers. And Drake has a date tonight, so we can't go to his place.
Besides your apartment is bigger than everyone else's and we have to fit quite
a few guys in here tonight, plus equipment."

JJ turned shocked eyes toward Dee and his hand paused mid-wipe.
"Drake has a date tonight?"

"Yeah, didn't he tell you?"

"Obviously not!" JJ had gone from mildly peeved to
seriously pissy in the space of about fifteen seconds. "How on earth did
Drake get a date? I --I mean, aren't we all supposed to be gay?"

"I believe there was some begging involved," said Marty,
who had just walked up to them. "Dee, we're ready to--"

"Wait a minute! Do you mean to tell me that Marty knows about
this date of Drake's too? Does everyone know except me?"

"Uhh, JJ, let's talk about this later, okay?"

"No, it is not friggin' okay! I want to know who it is! Is it
anyone I know? And this date had just better be with a woman..."

"A woman?" Dee asked, and he and Marty looked at each
other open-mouthed. He could tell that even Marty thought that was an odd thing
for JJ to have said. "Do you know something about Drake that we
don't?"

"Come on," said Marty. "Drake's as straight as all
get-out. Of course it's a woman. It's that girl, Annette, from Records."

"Annette?" JJ practically screeched. "Oh my God!
That hussy will eat him alive! And she's so fat, too! What on earth does he see
in her?"

Dee and Marty looked at each other again, but in amusement this
time.

"JJ, I wouldn't call her exactly fat," Dee said.

"Just nicely rounded," added Marty with a grin that
flashed white against the darkness of his skin.

"VERY nicely rounded," put in Dee and both men laughed.

"Oh, I don't know why I bother to talk to you two. You guys
are a couple of pigs." JJ stomped off to the kitchen.

"Where's your guy?" Marty asked Dee.

"Bedroom. He thinks he's going to catch a few Zees. As
if."

"Well, we're almost ready to get him suited up, if you wanna
go get him."

"Suited up? I thought we were only doing a wire."

"Ryo mentioned there was some risk of shooting tonight, and
somehow he got the Commissioner to okay a Dragon System vest. It's always nice
if the guy with the wire stays alive to testify."

"The NYPD has Dragon system vests?" Dee was incredulous.

"Not exactly. The 27th has exactly one. It's mostly reserved
for his Royal Highness in case he ever wants to get his hands dirty and muck
about in the field."

"I can't believe the bastard's parting with it. But then if
Ryo asked him..." The wheels in Dee's mind started to turn and a grim
expression came over his face.

"Look, let's just get on with it," Marty said. "Go
get your Detective Shaver. I wanna have enough time to test the wire and make
sure all systems are go. It would seriously suck if we had a bad connection at
the crucial moment."

Just then, JJ marched up to them, his eyes stormy. "What's
that Shaver guy doing in my bedroom? He's actually stretched out on my bed, on
my NEW comforter with his shoes on! And he doesn't smell that great, I'll be
perfectly honest with you there. I want someone to get him out of there before
he..."

"Before he what?" Marty asked.

"Before he finds any of my personal, as in battery-operated,
belongings, one of which is underneath the pillow his grimy head happens to be
resting on," said JJ pointedly to Dee.

"TMI, man!"

"I'll get him," Marty said hastily, turning away. But
before he could even take a step, they heard a horrified roar from the bedroom,
and Ned Shaver wrenched the door open looking traumatized and disoriented.

Ryo, who had rushed out of the kitchen at the sound of the bellow,
was the first to arrive at his side. "What happened?"

Incoherent and wide-eyed, Shaver just pointed at the bed. One of
the pillows was wiggling slightly and emitting a buzzing sound.

"Out of my way!" JJ pushed past them and went into his
bedroom, slamming the door violently behind him.

"What the hell was that?" Shaver asked in a subdued
voice.

"It's a SEX TOY, you moron!" JJ shouted from behind the
door. "You clearly don't have a very exciting sex life if you've never
seen one of those before!"

"But...but he's a GUY," Shaver protested, trying to catch
Ryo's eye. Ryo just looked uncomfortable and retreated back to the kitchen.

"You evidently haven't heard about our precinct, dude."
Grinning, Ted slung an arm around Detective Shaver's shoulder and led him back
to the living room. "Come on, let's get that wire on you."

"Not yet," Marty said. "Hey JJ! Can you come out of
there for a sec?"

JJ yanked the bedroom door open and glowered at him.
"Marty," he said, "the next person who enters my bedroom, except
Dee, of course, gets a bullet through his left testicle. Am I making myself
clear?"

"Uh...Perfectly. Don't worry, I'll tell the guys to stay out
of there, okay? Now listen. The tape for the wire sticks better on skin that's
clean. We're gonna need to have Shaver use your shower."

Both Dee and Marty took an involuntary step backward at the sight
of JJ's face. They couldn't help but notice that his hand was creeping toward
the semi-automatic pistol in his holster. Dee belatedly realized that things
would go better if he turned on the charm. He flashed JJ a brilliant smile.

"Come on, JJ, don't be mad," he cajoled. "You're
doing us a huge favor tonight and we're all grateful. Right Marty?"

"Oh, absolutely!"

"HOW grateful?" Ignoring Marty, JJ looked challengingly
at Dee.

"Not grateful enough to wanna see your whole
collection," Dee warned, jerking his head toward JJ's bedroom, "so
don't go getting any ideas. But pretty damn grateful, nonetheless."

JJ folded his arms. "I want lunch tomorrow. Just you, no
Ryo."

"Sorry, JJ, no can do. I've got a funeral to go to in
Brooklyn at eleven."

"Breakfast, then. AND I want a hug," JJ said.

Dee glanced uneasily over his shoulder.

"Don't worry, he can't hear you. He's in the kitchen making
sandwiches for all these bastards whose parents obviously never taught them not
to laugh at other people's decor choices or put their feet up on other people's
coffee tables," JJ said bitterly.

"Okay, breakfast," Dee said. "And a very brief hug.
There will be NO kissing or leg humping! Capiche?"

JJ's eyes suddenly began to sparkle. "Oh, you and your
vanilla hugs," he said flirtatiously. His whole manner had undergone a
change. "I leave it up to you to surprise me with the details, Mr. Sexy.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna order a couple of pizzas." He walked
into the living room with the spring back in his step, thinking, And we
certainly won't mention it to Ryo until after the deed is done, because I
wouldn't put it past that dog in the manger to spoil everything!

Dee went and found Ryo in the kitchen, where he really was making
sandwiches, exactly as JJ had said. The better-looking of the two Brooklyn
detectives who were to accompany them tonight was standing next to him,
pretending to help by holding a loaf of bread. Dee didn't like the way the guy
was checking out Ryo's body.

"Detective Mitchell, there you are!" he said. "Your
partner was just looking for you in the living room." Dee jerked his thumb
in that direction.

"Are you sure? He told me to get out of his hair and help
with the food," the man replied, a confused little frown on his handsome,
freckled face.

"Well, he wants your input on pizza toppings. JJ's trying to
order double anchovy garlic, but your partner thinks we should get something
that won't make the closed atmosphere of a surveillance vehicle a stink bomb on
wheels. He needs you to go back him up."

"Oh, I see! Yes, there's no way we want double anchovy garlic
pizza. Randy, can you spare me for a few minutes?"

"Sure, Bill. I'm fine here, really."

The minute Detective Mitchell was gone, Dee swooped in and kissed
Ryo's neck, muttering, "Fuck off already, 'Bill'." Ryo swatted him away with a
sound of annoyance, and a swift glance around to make sure no one had seen. Dee
gave him a rueful grin and backed off a couple of paces to lean against the
stove.

"How'd it go with Lindsay Masters?"

"Pretty good. He's a really high-powered, tough talking guy,
even to his paying clients. Bikky was impressed, and kind of intimidated. He
decided to forgive me because he didn't want to be alone with his own
lawyer."

"I'm sorry I couldn't go with you. You know I really wanted
to be there."

"I understand, but you did the right thing. Business first.
This is a great opportunity we've got with Shaver. We couldn't let it slip by.
I'm hoping it'll lead to more cooperation from him. Maybe this freebie he's
giving us is sort of like an icebreaker."

"Maybe. If he doesn't stop a bullet, that is. Hey, I hear you
got the Commissioner to okay his Dragon. How the hell did you get him to agree
to that?"

"Oh, I got Julian the cleaning guy to let me into his office
and then I picked the lock on his closet door to make sure the vest was there
before I asked him for it."

Dee's mouth dropped open for a moment, and then he burst out
laughing. "You...You picked the lock? You? I don't fucking believe this!"

"I'm a man of many talents," said Ryo modestly, blushing
with pleasure because he had managed to surprise Dee. "But don't tell
Bikky, okay?"

"You certainly are," said Dee, shaking his head in
admiration. "And I wouldn't want Bikky to know the half of them."

At that moment, Detective Mitchell returned. "I'm back to
help you, Randy," he said with an enthusiastic smile for Ryo, and a
challenging look for Dee.

"Excellent," said Dee, grabbing a plate and tossing some
of the assembled salami and lettuce sandwiches onto it. "Why don't you
take these sandwiches to that hungry bunch of animals in the living room?
Pizza's likely to take 45 minutes at this time of night." He thrust the
plate at Detective Mitchell, and turned back to Ryo, saying, "What did the
lawyer recommend?"

Detective Mitchell pressed his lips together in a hard line and
left the kitchen. Dee smirked at Ryo, who in turn scolded him for being rude.

"Rude, schmude. I'm just staking my claim. That guy was
looking at you like he wanted to introduce you to a different kind of
salami."

"He was?" Ryo looked at Dee in shock. "I'm sure
you're mistaken, Dee. He was just being friendly. Besides, he was wearing a
wedding ring."

"Yeah, I saw. Guy's really got a problem, huh? He wants a
salami, but he's married to a cannelloni."

"Dee! You are such..." Ryo's voice trailed away and his
lips twitched with the effort of looking serious and disapproving.

Ted cocked an ear at the burst of laughter that came from the
kitchen, and then smiled to himself.

"What the hell are they laughing about in there?" said
one of the surveillance guys in a petulant tone. "Don't they know we've
got work to do tonight?"

"Oh, Dee always gets Ryo laughing," remarked Ted and
took another bite of his second sandwich.

"Who the hell is Ryo?" asked Detective Mitchell.

Ted shook his head dismissively. "Nefugh mind," he said
with his mouth full.

&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^

Ned Shaver stepped out of a taxi a block from the restaurant he
had left his car in front of. He looked back a little uncertainly at Detective
Laytner, the man who knew all his dirty secrets. He knew that Laytner looked
down on him, although he was politic enough not to show it, and Ned didn't
blame him one bit. When it came right down to it, Detective Shaver looked down
on himself. He still couldn't quite believe that he had been brought to such a
pass, when he had always prided himself on being able to fight his way out of
whatever crap life sent his way. It had sent him a lot of it over the years; he
had certainly inherited the legendary shitty luck of the Shavers.

Hands thrust firmly in his pockets, Shaver forced himself to meet
the other man's eyes. Detective Laytner regarded him steadily for a moment with
the knowing gaze of a man who fully understood the acute level of danger that
the night's work would bring. Shaver wondered if the man also understood how
the feeling of working with the police again, instead of against them, had made
him feel that he could stand a fraction straighter today than yesterday.
Inwardly, however, he felt deeply and permanently soiled. Even if he somehow
managed to get away with all the things he had done, he knew that he could
never hold his head up among honest cops again.

"Hey," Detective Laytner began. "Remember that
night we were drinking in the bar? You said you did some checking on me."

"Yeah," said Shaver, curious in spite of the load that
was on his mind.

"Well, did you happen to find out about my dad?"

"No." The Bronx detective was a little surprised.
"I just looked into your career record a little, that's all. I also heard
you grew up in an orphanage."

"I don't know why I'm telling you this, but yeah, I had a
dad. More of a father-figure than a real dad, but he was important to me."

A vision of Kevin's cheerful, slightly chubby face suddenly rose
up in Detective Shaver's mind and made him feel sad. He tried to push it away.
Dammit, why was Laytner suddenly talking about fathers and sons?

Laytner paused to speak a couple of words to the driver of the
idling taxi, then got out of the rear passenger door and joined Shaver on the
sidewalk. "Anyway," he continued, "my old man was a cop who went
wrong. He did some work for the mob, in exchange for a piece of the action. I
figured he probably went into it thinking he could make some quick cash and get
out whenever he'd had enough. He couldn't have really known what he was getting
himself into, because I don't believe he ever would have taken that first step,
if he had. Finally, he realized that he was in a kind of twilight zone with
them - not really one of them, but no way out - and he had no choice but to try
to live with it."

Detective Shaver stared at him. Holy shit. He never would have
guessed this about Laytner. "What happened to him?"

"The assholes he had to deal with, they were like wild
animals. They still are. It's just the breed. But when a man gets too close to
monsters, eventually they follow him home. One of 'em got too interested in me,
so my dad put a bullet in him. They came after him, naturally. He didn't last
long after that."

"Jesus Christ."

"You understand what I'm saying here? The other day, that was
me in your bathroom, not your kid. But next time it could be him. And if he
ever hears something he shouldn't, you know what's gonna happen."

"What the hell would you have me do? You know my whole sorry
story! I'm fucked, no matter which way I turn."

"Find a way to get your family outta the city, man. You've
become a danger to them. Borrow
money if you have to, but make it happen."

Shaken, Shaver retreated into stubbornness. He hunched his
shoulders and looked away. "I dunno."

"Yes you do, Detective. Better than anybody. And take it from
someone who's been there: you're the only father your son has. Don't try to be
a hero tonight. I'm sure your boy would rather have a disgraced but live dad
than a dead hero one."

"You're forgetting 'disgraced and equally dead jailbird
dad'." Shaver's face was grim. "But...I know I got some thinking to
do." The fact was that he had already made up his mind what had to be
done, but Laytner didn't need to know that just yet. "Listen, since we're
on the subject of my kid...He told me recently that he wants to be a cop when
he's older. If, uh, I'm somehow not around in the future, would you mind
looking him up? Tell him not to turn out like his old man. I don't ever want
Kevin to go through what I'm going through."

"Sure," said Dee. "IF you're not around, I'll make
sure to look him up. But I hope for his sake that won't be necessary."
After a moment's hesitation, he stuck out his hand. "Good luck tonight,
man."

"Uh, thanks," Shaver mumbled, shaking the proffered
hand. "Thanks for saving my neck today in Little Italy."

"Don't mention it." Dee knew that wasn't what Shaver was
really thanking him for. "It's enough that you're wearing a wire for
us."

           Detective
Shaver nodded brusquely and turned away, but Detective Laytner called his name.
He stopped and looked back.

           "God
be with you, Detective."

           The
guy seemed so serious that Detective Shaver hid his surprise and nodded his
thanks before he started walking toward his car. He hadn't had Laytner pegged
for a God-fearing man, but what the hell. No point in telling him that God
doesn't give a rat's ass about guys like me, he thought to himself.

           His
car was where he had left it this afternoon. It had a stack of parking tickets
on it, but the 27th had pulled strings to prevent it from being towed. He
peered in through the windows. It
was still locked and it didn't look like anyone had tampered with it. The back
seat was full of stuff he had taken out of the trunk earlier, and it looked
like a junkmobile, even according to his own not terribly high standards of
cleanliness. He wished he had had time to clean out the car a little bit. It
sure wouldn't show to advantage sitting next to the high-end vehicles that were
likely to be at the meeting tonight.

Well, fuck 'em, he thought, feeling defiant. It wasn't how a car
looked, his old man had said to him on several occasions, it was how it
performed. His car's performance had always been sufficient for his needs. He
hoped it would be tonight, too. But in the next moment he called himself back
to reality. No drug dealer's Mercedes or Porsche would have a dead junkie's
crappy old tool box and a kid's bike in it.

           The
first thing he did was to open the hood and reconnect the battery. If Laytner
was watching him from down the block, he was probably wondering what the hell
he was doing. He smiled grimly to himself. Let him wonder. This particular
evening would give him plenty more to wonder about before it was over.

&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^

"Here he comes," said JJ who was watching one of the
monitors inside the van. Ryo quickly moved to lean over his shoulder and squint
at the grainy image. It was all darkness and bright headlights and he couldn't
make out any details.

"How do you know it's him?" asked Vic Bhalla, one of the
two TARU tech officers that were working with them that evening.

"By his crappy car," JJ replied. "We've had an
Audi, a couple of Mercedes, a Range Rover, three BMWs and a Lexus so far. Who
else would be coming down here to this specific part of the Navy Yard at almost
midnight in a big old family-sized Buick? I bet it's at least ten years old and
all dinged up."

"Can you see that?" asked Ryo, frowning.

JJ rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and I can see the pizza crumbs on
his dashboard, too. Of course not, Ryo! I'm just guessing about the car's age
and dings, based on my personal assessment of Detective Shaver. Hmm, I wonder
why he's stopping way back there? The other cars just drove straight into the
building through the delivery doors."

Everyone crowded around the screen that relayed images from the
camera discreetly mounted at the rear of the vehicle. Shaver could be seen
getting out of the car and pitching what looked like a kid's bicycle behind
some shrubby plants in front of the building behind them.

"What the hell is he doing?" asked Vic, sounding
surprised.

"I guess he's belatedly cleaning out his car before the
meeting," said JJ sarcastically. "Just like it didn't occur to him to
wear a tie." JJ was still pissed off that, on top of all the other
indignities he had had to suffer that evening, the team had demanded that he
lend the tie-less Detective Shaver one of his ties for them to clip the
microphone to. It was a very clever microphone that had been designed to look
like a tie pin. The wire went down inside Shaver's shirt and around to the
transmitter attached to the back of his belt.

JJ had protested that his ties were by big name designers. "I
love ALL of my ties!" he had wailed. "I don't want any of them to get
worn to a drug dealer meeting in a scuzzy old warehouse!" He had only
relented because Dee had agreed to go into his bedroom with him and help him
select a tie that was appropriate for Detective Shaver. Dee, who was obviously
trying to sweet-talk him, had given him several compliments, telling him that
certain ties suited his coloring, personality or style, and JJ had milked the
attention for all it was worth. When Dee had finally culled a chartreuse and
primrose-yellow Hermes number from the herd of JJ's ties and denounced it for
its ability to make JJ look sallow, the young sharpshooter was more than ready
to sacrifice it for the greater good. But later when he remembered that it had
cost $155 on sale, he got pissed off all over again. If he hadn't been so
dazzled by Dee's cologne and his way his jeans were hugging the curves of his
lean, but powerful thighs and narrow, masculine hips, he would have been able
to summon enough presence of mind to demand that Detective Mitchell relinquish
his tie, which was
clearly a Chinese knock-off.

He sighed as he remembered how Dee had begged to be allowed to
come along tonight, and how that rotten Ryo had refused him.

"I'm lead detective on this case," Ryo had said firmly.
"We not only have enough staff, but you're still on a sick day, and I want
you to rest. Besides, if I'm kept up really late tonight, one of us should be
well-rested enough to drive to the funeral tomorrow. Most importantly," he had added, pulling Dee to one
side, "We're leaving before you guys to get established at the Navy Yard.
Shaver's your
contact. Make sure he goes through with it."

Dee had been very disappointed at what JJ considered to be Ryo's
heartlessness, but he had acquiesced. Just remembering it made JJ want to glare
at Ryo now, but of course he kept his eyes on the monitor he was assigned to.
He would have enjoyed this assignment a lot more if Dee had been with them in
the close working quarters this van necessitated. They had to brush past each
other to move from one station to another, and Ryo's knee had already bumped
against his a couple of times. Too bad it wasn't Dee. And he didn't even want
to think about what Drake might be doing on his date tonight with that walking
bosom, Annette. How could he, the bastard? After how close they had gotten on their trip to
Canada, too. It was too bad men had to be such idiots.

They watched Shaver toss a couple of other items after the bike
and then get back in his vehicle.

"We got sound?" Marty asked Vic.

"Not yet. Either we've got a malfunction or he hasn't turned
on the transmitter yet."

Tensely, they watched as Detective Shaver's Buick drove in
through the big bay doors of the appointed meeting place.

"Come on, sound," prayed Ryo.

"Amen," added Vic. "Oh good, there we go! Talk
about last minute." He looked relieved.

"I have a feeling that 'last-minute' would pretty well sum up
everything about that guy," JJ muttered.

"Shhh!" Ryo grabbed for his headphones.

The four men sat in silence in the darkened interior of a van that
had "Dan's Roofing" painted on its sides and listened to the voices
in the warehouse. They heard Shaver shut his car engine off and then the sound
of him opening and closing the driver's door of his vehicle. Voices grunted a
greeting, but one voice was louder than the rest.

"Detective Shaver! So glad you could join us." The voice
held a hint of sarcasm, but was jovial enough.

"Sorry, Ibo," said Shaver. "Am I late?"

"Technically, no. But a few more minutes and we'd have had to
assume that the Devils got you."

"Not this time."

"Have you met Frank Rizzo? Frank, this is Detective Shaver,
one of our tame cops. His badge says NYPD, but he really works for us."

There was a low burst of ugly laughter from several throats. Ryo
found himself shaking his head and gritting his teeth. He was glad Dee hadn't
been there to hear that.

A new voice came over the line, higher and more nervous than Ryo
had expected such a renowned crime boss to have. It didn't contrast well
against Essien Ibo's deep, musical tones.

"Shaver, huh? Narcotics, I presume? Which precinct?"

"Bronx," Shaver answered shortly. They noticed that he
declined to give the specific precinct.

"Ibo," said Rizzo's breathless voice. "Let's get
down to business. I'm a busy man. Are yer people clear on the plan?"

"We need the delivery date. It's gotta be pretty specific. A
set of brothers hanging out near the Mohawk reserve for too long is bound to
attract attention."

"We've got a date. It's coming in by float plane about 2 a.m.
a week from tonight. Ya gotta move fast. Get in, get out."

"Are the Mohawks likely to be any trouble?"

"Naw, they're in on it."

"All of 'em?"

"No, just a couple of key players. Pay 'em what they ask for,
on top of the cigarettes. They're amateurs - they could ask for more, but they
don't know it. Last year we tried to negotiate and they got pissy."

"Does the reserve have its own police?"

"On the Canadian side, yeah. They collaborate with the OPP.
But ya gotta watch out for State Troopers too. This ain't yer first job
upstate, right?"

Ibo laughed shortly. "Hell, no. We used to bring in shipments
from Cayuga County. Oneida, too. But recently there's been more money in
Jersey."

"Well, there's big money in this deal, and more for the
future IF you and yer guys don't screw up. Tony! Open the case."

"Yes, boss."

Rizzo continued. "That's a quarter million right there. With
your hundred grand, you'll have the fee. You do the math for the street value.
Yer gonna need low key transport, by the way."

"No problem. We've brought stuff across the border before.
Will you be wanting your cut the night we get back?"

"No, we'll be in touch. I wanna make sure you don't come back
with the police on your asses."

There was a moment of silence, followed by some rustling and
murmuring that no one could catch.

"No, not me." It was Ibo's voice, but he didn't seem to
be speaking to Rizzo. "Give the money to the cop."

There were some more indistinct noises and then Ibo spoke again.
"Let's settle the details of your cut and mine. I'm not happy with the
percentage."

They continued the negotiations while the men in the van outside
listened avidly. They were parked in a small lot a short block and a half from
the warehouse that the meeting was being held in. They had cameras pointing in
three directions, and they could see the two sentries at the front of the
building. Detectives Mitchell and Palmer, along with Ted and the other TARU
tech were in another van on the opposite side of the building, watching the
official front entrance and any lookout guys posted over there as well.

"Here comes trouble," JJ warned in a low voice.

"What is it?" asked Marty softly.

"Headlights at the top of the street. More than one car.
Coming fast."

"Shit, where'd that guy come from?" Marty exclaimed.
"He just took out both the sentries!" Heads turned toward his
monitor, where a lone figure could be seen standing over one of the fallen
guards. He was holding a gun whose long barrel indicated a silencer.

Two sleek black sedans abruptly roared up, accompanied by half a
dozen motorcycles, and together they effectively blocked the bay entrance to
the warehouse. As the trunks of the cars popped open, the motorbike riders
swarmed over to snatch up automatic weapons from inside them before hurrying to
the open door.

Ryo, Marty and Vic kept their headphones on and listened to the
reactions inside.

"What the fuck is this?" Frank Rizzo was screaming.
"How the fuck did they find us? Yer people were careless, that's what
fucking happened!"

He continued yelling but his voice moved away, and Ibo's voice
could be heard shouting instructions to his men.

"Jimmy, take cover! Luke, get those guys away from the door!
Shaver, you pussy. Stash that cash somewhere and let me see your piece in your
hand. We need every man on deck, including you! Fucking -"

His next words were lost in a burst of gunfire.

JJ's phone vibrated in his pocket. "Detective Adam--" he
started to say, but Detective Palmer's voice interrupted him. "What the
hell's going on over there? We hear gunfire!"

"The Devils arrived, and they're shooting it out."

"Holy Fuck. Did you call it in?"

"Ten four," said JJ, having glanced at Ryo, who had
snatched up the radio and was in the process of doing that.

"What about the guy inside? Is this a 10-13?"

"Are you suggesting we break cover?" JJ said to
Detective Palmer. He looked at Ryo again, who shook his head vehemently.

"Detective Shaver's all alone in there." Detective
Palmer sounded agitated.

"Negative, unit one. Stay put and wait for back-up." JJ
hung up and looked anxiously at Marty and Ryo, suddenly feeling bad about all
his negative comments regarding Detective Shaver's car and organizational
skills. "Do you think he has a chance?"

"There's always a chance," said Marty reassuringly, but
it sounded as though he were forcing himself.

"He'll be okay," insisted Ryo fiercely. "He's
wearing a dragon vest, after all. And there's gonna be at least sixteen patrol
units here in a minute. He just has to keep his head down and hold on until
they get here."

JJ nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it
was was drowned out by a colossal explosion that rocked the ground under them.
A huge fireball erupted out through the bay doors, catching a running figure
and turning him into a human torch. The motorcycles in front burst into flames,
and two lesser explosions could be heard from inside, as presumably, some of the
vehicles' gas tanks exploded.

They stared from the video screen to each other with open mouths,
all thinking the same thing. An inferno was raging inside the building, growing
larger with each passing second. If the explosion hadn't killed everyone inside,
the fire certainly would.

It would take a miracle for Detective Shaver to come walking out
of that warehouse, now.

~end of chapter
35~

Additional author's
notes: 10-13 is an NYPD code
meaning 'assist police officer'. Apologies to anyone who drives a Buick.

I'm sorry, but it's going to be another three or four weeks until I post
again because I'm insanely busy at work and
have several deadlines looming.

I hope you
enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading.
Chapter 36 is waiting for you on my LJ!
- 34
- 35
- 36
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