"You go ahead." Michael smiled, her eyes liquid with desire. "I'll be here later."

"I know," Sloan murmured, drawing a nger along the edge of Michael's jaw and over her mouth. "And knowing that is the best thing in my life."

v In the conference room on the third oor of Sloan's building, Rebecca helped herself to a cup of coffee. The rest of the huge s.p.a.ce was part.i.tioned into various work areas crammed with computers and a vast array of electronic equipment, some of which was not yet available on the open market. At the sound of footsteps at her back, she turned and greeted Sloan. "Sorry for the short notice."

Wordlessly, Sloan shrugged and headed straight for the coffeepot.

She poured a cup, took a long sip, and lounging against the counter, regarded Rebecca inquiringly. "No problem. Something come up?"

"Clark arrived for a meeting with Henry, and I decided I needed to be unavailable."

"What's that b.a.s.t.a.r.d doing back in the picture?"

"I don't know." Rebecca looked past Sloan to the door and nodded to the handsome blond man who stood on the threshold. His expensive, meticulously tailored shirt and pants contrasted distinctly to Sloan's casual attire, but the shadows beneath his deep blue eyes mirrored hers.

"Hi, Jase. How's it going?"

Jason McBride, Sloan's a.s.sociate at Sloan Security, smiled tiredly.

* 38 *

Justice Served "It feels like moving a mountain with a tablespoon, there's so much data to sift through."

"You should take a break before Sarah comes and drags you out of here," Sloan suggested, referring to her best friend and Jason's live-in lover. "Go home, get some sleep."

"Yeah, like you, I suppose," Jason remarked with friendly sarcasm.

"I just woke up."

Clearly surprised, Jason sank into one of the chairs at the conference table. "So miracles really do happen."

Laughing, Sloan joined him.

Jason looked to Rebecca. "What's happening on your end?"

"A few noteworthy bits, but let's wait for Watts. He'll be here any minute."

Right on cue, a subdued pinging emanated from a speaker in the far corner of the room. All three heads turned toward the bank of security monitors lined up along the wall. The rst screen showed an image projected from the video camera above the street-level door.

Watts stood on the top step, frowning up at the camera. Before Sloan could buzz him in, he turned his back to the building, as if looking back down the street.

"Hey," Jason said as another gure materialized. "That's Mitch.e.l.l!"

"I'd better go give them a hand," Sloan said, punching in a number sequence on a keypad to release the security locks on the street-level door.

"Stay put," Rebecca interjected. "I'll go."

As soon as they were alone, Jason queried Sloan. "Why the meeting?"

"It looks like the team is back in business," Sloan said.

"Really? Good, because we could use some help tracking down the rest of the video-p.o.r.n subscribers. And anything else we nd along the way."

Sloan said nothing.

"What?"

"You might have to handle that alone."

Jason frowned. "Why?"

"I'm going to be tied up with another job."

* 39 *

RADCLY fFE "You're kidding." Jason stared, clearly confused. "What could be more important than delivering the coup de grce to this s.m.u.t ring?"

"You know what, Jason," Sloan replied softly.

"We've got a line into their organization now, Sloan," Jason pointed out. "We'll nail down the p.o.r.n distributors, and one of them is going to roll. Then we'll be able to pinpoint Michael's a.s.sailant or at least nd out who gave the order."

"Starting tomorrow," Sloan said with evident satisfaction, "I'm going to have access to everything I need to gure out who is responsible." At his look of puzzlement, she went on, "I agreed to help develop an electronic surveillance unit for the police department. I'm now an of cial civilian consultant."

"You're kidding." The sound of voices from just outside the door prevented him from elaborating further on his disbelief. He turned, and a smile lit his handsome features. "Dell? Hey. How are you?"

"Great." Mitch.e.l.l, seated in a wheelchair with Sandy at the helm, grinned back. "The doc said I can't weight-bear until tomorrow. But then I'll be mobile."

"Crutches," Sandy muttered. "Freakin' crutches, Dell."

"Excellent," Jason said. "Hi, Sandy."

"Hi," Sandy replied as she helped Mitch.e.l.l move from the wheelchair to a seat at the table.

Rebecca sat down on Mitch.e.l.l's right, with Watts on her opposite side. Once Sandy joined them, Rebecca began. "Okay. Everyone's here, so let's get up to speed. As of this morning, we are now of cially the High Pro le Crimes Unit." She looked around the table. "Jason, you and Sloan will have of cial status as civilian consultants. Sloan's going to be doing some work directly from police headquarters, but you'll still be based here. In fact," she regarded Sloan now, "I'd like to base the entire unit here if at all possible. I don't trust the security at headquarters."

"That's ne with me," Sloan said. "Jason and Mitch.e.l.l can set up a secure databank to handle the necessary doc.u.mentation. We'll store everything using the Justice Department encryption protocol, so we should have no problem with the records being admissible in court."

"Handy," Watts observed. "You just happening to have that program."

* 40 *

Justice Served "I learned everything I know from Uncle Sam." Sloan grinned.

"Just your tax dollars at work."

"Uh-huh, right."

"Jason," Rebecca's voice rose above the friendly bantering.

"Where are you with the data a.n.a.lysis?"

"In addition to the guys running the video relay stations that we've already identi ed, we could potentially track down about three hundred subscribers just in the greater metropolitan area alone. How hard do you want to go after them?"

"How long would it take?"

Jason waggled his hand. "We have to backtrack through credit card accounts, Internet aliases, multiple e-mail addresses, servers- the whole works. With just Dell and me working it, probably a few weeks."

"In all likelihood," Sloan interjected, "these are the end users. The guys who don't know anything about the structure of the organization and who just want to get off to p.o.r.n. For our purposes, the return might not be worth the effort."

Rebecca's gaze was distant as she considered options. "These guys are perverts, and some of them are probably active pedophiles.

They need to be investigated."

"No question," Sloan agreed. "But do we need to be investigating them?"

"What's the chance that we'll pull a name out of those computers that will lead us to our mole?"

"Not an impossibility," Jason mused. "Most of the p.o.r.n makers and distributors got into the business because they like the product.

Maybe that's what hooked our insider too, but we can't count on it."

"For the time being," Rebecca said, "you and Mitch.e.l.l keep at it.

At least until Mitch.e.l.l is ready for street duty."

At that, Mitch.e.l.l sat up straighter, her body nearly quivering with antic.i.p.ation. "Am I going back undercover?"

From the corner of her eye, Rebecca saw Sandy stiffen. "We've disrupted part of the p.o.r.n ring, but I think it's pretty clear that they're using prost.i.tutes as models. Some local street girls, but others whom we haven't been able to identify. They're not in our system-so who are they? I want to know who they are and how they're being recruited.

So far, the s.e.x clubs are our best leads." She glanced from Mitch.e.l.l * 41 *

RADCLY fFE to Jason. "And Jasmine and Mitch have an in there, so I want them to work it."

Jason's mouth curved into a smile that was pure Jasmine. When he spoke, his voice took on a honeyed texture, although nothing else in his posture changed. "What fun."

"Jasmine needs to talk to the drag kings and tell them Mitch was in a motorcycle accident. It will explain his leg and his absence."

"Not a problem. The boys have a show tonight, and Jasmine can drop around."

During the conversation, Watts shifted in his chair, the ponderous creaking underscoring his uneasy expression. "Mitch rushing out of Ziggie's right before that bust the other night might raise some suspicions."

"No one knows I was at the factory during the arrests," Mitch.e.l.l pointed out hurriedly. "I can always say I got a call from my girlfriend busting my b.a.l.l.s"-she glanced apologetically at Sandy-"because I was out late clubbing, and I crashed the bike speeding to get home."

Watts nodded. "Yeah, that might play." He regarded Mitch.e.l.l steadily. "And you did manage to get in places none of us could."

"Well, Mitch did," Mitch.e.l.l replied with just a hint of self-satisfaction.

"Oh yeah-the guy with the plastic pole," Watts grumbled. "He's a wonder, all right."

"Okay," Rebecca said, nodding to Mitch.e.l.l. "As soon as you're cleared medically and by...the department, I want you to reconnect with the kings and start working the clubs at night. Concentrate on Ziggie's."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Sloan, you've got the department computers. Anything new on the ident.i.ty of the inside man?"

Sloan shook her head. "Nothing beyond what we knew this weekend. There are two ADAs who had access to the warrants and who could've tipped someone off to the details of the computer investigations: Margaret Campbell and George Beecher."

"Let's sit down with their pro les tomorrow and look for something that's off," Rebecca said. "Make sure their jackets are complete-criminal records search, education and nancial summaries, job evals-all of it."

* 42 *

Justice Served "Done."

"Watts and I will arrange surveillance on both of them. It'll be tricky, because they're likely to be suspicious after the arrests this weekend. They'll be looking for something out of the ordinary." She glanced at Watts. "You and I should be the ones sitting on them, at least in the beginning."

He pursed his lips. "Can't do it 24-7."

"Agreed, but I think it's safe to a.s.sume they're not likely to have contact with anyone during the day. So we'll start with night tails."

"You're the boss."

"During the day, Watts," Rebecca went on pointedly, "I want you to go back over everything you can nd in Jimmy Hogan's les. If Avery Clark is back in the picture, and Jimmy Hogan was one of his undercover agents, then the Justice Department thinks there's still something here to nd. And I think whatever that is, it's what got Jimmy...and Jeff...

killed." Her eyes were a at, hard blue, as impenetrable as the surface of a bottomless well. "And I know that Avery Clark is not going to tell us.

He's hoping to wait in the wings again while we dig out the information he's interested in. But this time, we aren't handing it over."

Her remark prompted a chorus of d.a.m.n rights and a single, harsh no f.u.c.king way from Watts.

"Anything else?" Rebecca asked, looking around the table. When no one spoke, she b.u.mped her st lightly on the table top. "Right, then.

Let's do it."

As the team dispersed, Rebecca approached Sandy. "Got a minute?"

"Not really." Sandy indicated Mitch.e.l.l, who was pale and shaking, with a tilt of her chin. "I think the rookie oughtta be in bed."

"I'll take her upstairs and get her settled," Jason offered.

Sandy looked as if she wanted to refuse, but she nally shrugged.

"Whatever."

"Let's go for a walk," Rebecca said, leading the way to the elevator.

They rode down in silence with Watts. Once outside, she and Sandy headed toward the waterfront while Watts walked west after mumbling goodbye.

"Cold?" Rebecca asked.