Kelly (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gonerunningaway) wrote2012-08-30 04:07 am
gonerunningaway) wrote2012-08-30 04:07 am
Entry tags:
Tide-Water Dogs, Chapter Four
Title: Tide-Water Dogs, Chapter Four
Fandom: The Departed
Rating: NC-17
Word Count (this chapter): 1,398
Warnings this chapter (highlight to view): None.
Chapter Four
In the morning, Sean kicks Robert out after showering together and having coffee, then finally takes out his gun. He doesn’t go for a run, and doesn’t have time for the gym, just heads up to the shrink’s office and does his usual quick summary before sitting back and giving the shrink a challenging look.
He has a mildly malicious thought toward the end of the session and says it when there’s only five minutes left. “Had a date last night.”
“Oh?” The shrink looks interested. Probably because it’s the first really personal thing Sean’s said to him.
“Yeah.” He pauses. “With a guy.”
To his credit, the shrink doesn’t even blink. “Was this your first date with a man?”
“Yeah, my first time getting fucked up the ass, too.” This time, the shrink does blink, almost flinches, and Sean smirks. “Let me guess, daddy issues caused by Frank Costello, according to your brilliant insight?”
“I’m aware you have little respect for my profession,” the shrink says crisply. “You’ve thought about men in a sexual way before?”
“Yeah, so what?”
“Then my assumption is only that you’re not heterosexual, nothing more.”
Letdown. Sean sits back and shuts his mouth, and the shrink doesn’t push it.
When he gets to the floor above, he heads for Queenan’s office instead of his own. He has to check in, and if he’s honest with himself, he wants to check on Queenan, too.
Ellerby, the prick, stops him in the hall. “Detective, I heard there’s something going on with one of your undercover officers.”
“You hear all kinds of shit, don’t you?”
“Well, what is it?”
“My UC says to tell you to fuck yourself. Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Sean walks around him and gets to Queenan’s office a few steps later. Once he’s in, he says, “Ellerby’s asking questions about Easley. I think Easley, anyway. It could be Hardison. He didn’t give me a name.”
Queenan glances up. He looks like shit, eyes almost bruised from lack of sleep. “I’ll speak with him. He shouldn’t be pressing.”
“Did we get the warrant?”
“Our ADA should be getting it now. How was your night, Sean?”
Sean allows himself an almost-smile. “Seeing him again on Sunday, thanks.”
“Congratulations.”
Sean takes a chair facing Queenan’s desk. “Captain, when’s the last time you slept?”
“I slept last night.”
“Really slept.”
“I’ll sleep when we find out what’s happening with Hardison.”
“There’s nothing we can do?” Sean asks. He knows there isn’t, really, but they can try to talk it through, maybe get Queenan to not blame himself. “No one we can go to, can’t check her apartment?”
“If we search her apartment, we’ll need to disseminate cause for doing so, preferably with a warrant, or it looks suspicious. It might not tell us anything, and it might get her in trouble if she’s alive.”
Sean folds his arms loosely, thinking that over. It’s tough, it really is, trying to figure out what they can do for her. At least to find her.
Queenan’s phone rings just as Sean’s thinking he should go type that report.
“Yes,” Queenan says. He begins to stand. “All right. We’ll get organized. This afternoon? Perfect. Thank you.” He hangs up and smiles, tired but pleased, at Sean. “We got the warrant.”
Sean smiles back, then makes a sour face. “I’ll go collar Ellerby and get the unit.”
“I’ll make the rest of the arrangements. Get everyone in the conference room. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Sean hunts down fucking Ellerby after just a few minutes and says, “We need you and the rest of the unit in the conference room. Queenan’s orders.”
“What’s happening?” Ellerby asks. Sometimes he pays attention.
“Got a warrant. Conference room. Everyone,” Sean repeats. “Or do I need to use smaller words?”
“Fuck yourself,” Ellerby says, and steps out of his small office, no bigger than Sean’s. Sean takes that as done and heads for the conference room himself.
He stands in the front, just behind Queenan, his arms loosely folded, feet spread apart. Queenan begins once the last unit detective has filed into the room.
“We have a warrant to search Van Kais Incorporated that we’ll be using at one o’clock this afternoon. Our guy inside has passed on information about files in a locked room on the third floor. This involves selling prototypical computer chips to an Iranian firm through a shell company based in Taiwan. We need someone who has the code to the third floor door to let us in, preferably the head of technological development or someone at that level. This is a company. This is not a home, this is not a drug lab, this is a company with a lot of innocent people. We’ll go in with our weapons and vests, and there will be more heavily armed troopers outside, but our priority is clearing the building, having troopers search everyone as they leave, and getting every locked room open. Then we bring technicians in to remove everything. It’s not going to be a fun day, but it’s going to potentially prevent selling military-grade technology to Iran. Does everyone understand?”
Troopers murmur “yes, sir” through the room, and Queenan nods.
“Detective Dignam will be running the team looking into technological development. He’ll take five of you with him. Scotts, Campbell, Cornelius, Figueroa, and Clark, you’re on his team. Ellerby, you’ll be on the executive level, and Miller, you get accounting. Von Bryant, you have legal. Pick your teams, five or six each. Everyone have your radios on, I’ll be communicating that way. That’s all.”
Then he turns to leave. He gestures to Sean to follow him. Naturally, Sean does.
“How was Ellerby?”
“His oh-so-pleasant self. He’s not really competent, Captain.”
Queenan just hums in response. Once they’re back in his office, he says, “We’ll pay no attention to Easley. He’ll be another moderately high employee, he’ll be searched as the others, and you and I won’t take any notice of him.”
“Got it. You gave me a team.”
“I did. Is that a problem?”
“No, just wondering why. I’m a detective, not a sergeant.”
“Not yet, but you will be. The exam is in three months. I want you ready.”
Sean blinks. “Yes sir.” Queenan’s so fucking confident in him. He can do it, he knows it, it’s just having someone else know it that’s weird.
“Good.” Queenan checks his cell, then goes to his desk and checks his voicemail. Since he doesn’t say anything, Sean assumes Hardison hasn’t called in. It’s getting to the point of being bad now. Not a guarantee, but bad.
By one, everyone’s assembled, other troopers called in, techs organized, and they caravan down, lights on, sirens off. Troopers cordon off the street and sidewalk as soon as they’re out of their cars; they start checking IDs and herding away people who don’t work for Van Kais and detaining those who do. The unit heads on in. Sean and his men go for tech development, and he tells them to keep an eye out for someone in a ridiculously overpriced suit coming out of an office when they spread out, directing everyone out of the building.
Figueroa is the one to collar Marcus Santillan, the guy who apparently made the call that tipped off Easley, and Santillan doesn’t protest too much about opening the door. Probably because there are cops everywhere.
Sean himself stays by the door and radios to Queenan, “Door’s open, Captain.”
“I’m sending techs up now. Who got Santillan?”
“Figueroa.”
“You clear, Dignam?”
“We have the lab to clear. Clean suits, all that. Five guys in there. Then we’re done.”
Queenan moves on to Ellerby and the others, who are all reporting basically the same things. Once forensic techs and uniforms take over, Dignam radios down to be sure he’s done.
He joins Queenan downstairs, saying, “There was a small marker on one of the cabinets in that room. I think our guy was tipping us off.”
“That could be. We’ll talk to him later.”
“Where do we go from here?”
“We take in the executives who were brokering this deal. Already have Santillan.” Queenan gestures to one of the patrol cars, where there’s a man in the back seat. “Now for the rest.”
Sean nods and wades into the mess of employees to executive-hunt.
Fandom: The Departed
Rating: NC-17
Word Count (this chapter): 1,398
Warnings this chapter (highlight to view): None.
In the morning, Sean kicks Robert out after showering together and having coffee, then finally takes out his gun. He doesn’t go for a run, and doesn’t have time for the gym, just heads up to the shrink’s office and does his usual quick summary before sitting back and giving the shrink a challenging look.
He has a mildly malicious thought toward the end of the session and says it when there’s only five minutes left. “Had a date last night.”
“Oh?” The shrink looks interested. Probably because it’s the first really personal thing Sean’s said to him.
“Yeah.” He pauses. “With a guy.”
To his credit, the shrink doesn’t even blink. “Was this your first date with a man?”
“Yeah, my first time getting fucked up the ass, too.” This time, the shrink does blink, almost flinches, and Sean smirks. “Let me guess, daddy issues caused by Frank Costello, according to your brilliant insight?”
“I’m aware you have little respect for my profession,” the shrink says crisply. “You’ve thought about men in a sexual way before?”
“Yeah, so what?”
“Then my assumption is only that you’re not heterosexual, nothing more.”
Letdown. Sean sits back and shuts his mouth, and the shrink doesn’t push it.
When he gets to the floor above, he heads for Queenan’s office instead of his own. He has to check in, and if he’s honest with himself, he wants to check on Queenan, too.
Ellerby, the prick, stops him in the hall. “Detective, I heard there’s something going on with one of your undercover officers.”
“You hear all kinds of shit, don’t you?”
“Well, what is it?”
“My UC says to tell you to fuck yourself. Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Sean walks around him and gets to Queenan’s office a few steps later. Once he’s in, he says, “Ellerby’s asking questions about Easley. I think Easley, anyway. It could be Hardison. He didn’t give me a name.”
Queenan glances up. He looks like shit, eyes almost bruised from lack of sleep. “I’ll speak with him. He shouldn’t be pressing.”
“Did we get the warrant?”
“Our ADA should be getting it now. How was your night, Sean?”
Sean allows himself an almost-smile. “Seeing him again on Sunday, thanks.”
“Congratulations.”
Sean takes a chair facing Queenan’s desk. “Captain, when’s the last time you slept?”
“I slept last night.”
“Really slept.”
“I’ll sleep when we find out what’s happening with Hardison.”
“There’s nothing we can do?” Sean asks. He knows there isn’t, really, but they can try to talk it through, maybe get Queenan to not blame himself. “No one we can go to, can’t check her apartment?”
“If we search her apartment, we’ll need to disseminate cause for doing so, preferably with a warrant, or it looks suspicious. It might not tell us anything, and it might get her in trouble if she’s alive.”
Sean folds his arms loosely, thinking that over. It’s tough, it really is, trying to figure out what they can do for her. At least to find her.
Queenan’s phone rings just as Sean’s thinking he should go type that report.
“Yes,” Queenan says. He begins to stand. “All right. We’ll get organized. This afternoon? Perfect. Thank you.” He hangs up and smiles, tired but pleased, at Sean. “We got the warrant.”
Sean smiles back, then makes a sour face. “I’ll go collar Ellerby and get the unit.”
“I’ll make the rest of the arrangements. Get everyone in the conference room. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Sean hunts down fucking Ellerby after just a few minutes and says, “We need you and the rest of the unit in the conference room. Queenan’s orders.”
“What’s happening?” Ellerby asks. Sometimes he pays attention.
“Got a warrant. Conference room. Everyone,” Sean repeats. “Or do I need to use smaller words?”
“Fuck yourself,” Ellerby says, and steps out of his small office, no bigger than Sean’s. Sean takes that as done and heads for the conference room himself.
He stands in the front, just behind Queenan, his arms loosely folded, feet spread apart. Queenan begins once the last unit detective has filed into the room.
“We have a warrant to search Van Kais Incorporated that we’ll be using at one o’clock this afternoon. Our guy inside has passed on information about files in a locked room on the third floor. This involves selling prototypical computer chips to an Iranian firm through a shell company based in Taiwan. We need someone who has the code to the third floor door to let us in, preferably the head of technological development or someone at that level. This is a company. This is not a home, this is not a drug lab, this is a company with a lot of innocent people. We’ll go in with our weapons and vests, and there will be more heavily armed troopers outside, but our priority is clearing the building, having troopers search everyone as they leave, and getting every locked room open. Then we bring technicians in to remove everything. It’s not going to be a fun day, but it’s going to potentially prevent selling military-grade technology to Iran. Does everyone understand?”
Troopers murmur “yes, sir” through the room, and Queenan nods.
“Detective Dignam will be running the team looking into technological development. He’ll take five of you with him. Scotts, Campbell, Cornelius, Figueroa, and Clark, you’re on his team. Ellerby, you’ll be on the executive level, and Miller, you get accounting. Von Bryant, you have legal. Pick your teams, five or six each. Everyone have your radios on, I’ll be communicating that way. That’s all.”
Then he turns to leave. He gestures to Sean to follow him. Naturally, Sean does.
“How was Ellerby?”
“His oh-so-pleasant self. He’s not really competent, Captain.”
Queenan just hums in response. Once they’re back in his office, he says, “We’ll pay no attention to Easley. He’ll be another moderately high employee, he’ll be searched as the others, and you and I won’t take any notice of him.”
“Got it. You gave me a team.”
“I did. Is that a problem?”
“No, just wondering why. I’m a detective, not a sergeant.”
“Not yet, but you will be. The exam is in three months. I want you ready.”
Sean blinks. “Yes sir.” Queenan’s so fucking confident in him. He can do it, he knows it, it’s just having someone else know it that’s weird.
“Good.” Queenan checks his cell, then goes to his desk and checks his voicemail. Since he doesn’t say anything, Sean assumes Hardison hasn’t called in. It’s getting to the point of being bad now. Not a guarantee, but bad.
By one, everyone’s assembled, other troopers called in, techs organized, and they caravan down, lights on, sirens off. Troopers cordon off the street and sidewalk as soon as they’re out of their cars; they start checking IDs and herding away people who don’t work for Van Kais and detaining those who do. The unit heads on in. Sean and his men go for tech development, and he tells them to keep an eye out for someone in a ridiculously overpriced suit coming out of an office when they spread out, directing everyone out of the building.
Figueroa is the one to collar Marcus Santillan, the guy who apparently made the call that tipped off Easley, and Santillan doesn’t protest too much about opening the door. Probably because there are cops everywhere.
Sean himself stays by the door and radios to Queenan, “Door’s open, Captain.”
“I’m sending techs up now. Who got Santillan?”
“Figueroa.”
“You clear, Dignam?”
“We have the lab to clear. Clean suits, all that. Five guys in there. Then we’re done.”
Queenan moves on to Ellerby and the others, who are all reporting basically the same things. Once forensic techs and uniforms take over, Dignam radios down to be sure he’s done.
He joins Queenan downstairs, saying, “There was a small marker on one of the cabinets in that room. I think our guy was tipping us off.”
“That could be. We’ll talk to him later.”
“Where do we go from here?”
“We take in the executives who were brokering this deal. Already have Santillan.” Queenan gestures to one of the patrol cars, where there’s a man in the back seat. “Now for the rest.”
Sean nods and wades into the mess of employees to executive-hunt.