Chapter Text
“What do you mean there was nothing useful in the car?” She tries not to let the sentence send her reeling, but she’d been so hopeful...
“I mean there was nothing. We checked everywhere. No hair, no prints -the car was clean.”
That didn’t make sense. Those men didn’t exactly seem to be terribly careful. They weren’t wearing gloves. If they were really in charge of doing this Hordak’s dirty work, then their vehicle should show signs of it, even if they were small. They had to be missing something.
“Ether.”
Adora was pulled from her thoughts. “Yeah.”
“I’m tired of crawlin’ around on my hands and knees for the day, so I’m just going to take some case notes and then I’ll probably call it a day. Feel free to check it out yourself.”
“I might.” She definitely would. Something wasn’t right. It was kind of nice that Thornbrush was still letting Adora in on this case even though she didn’t have to. Most people wouldn’t. Maybe she could just sense that it meant something to Adora.
She pulls up to the precinct about 20 minutes later and walks through the back -to the forensics lab. Entrapta was sitting at the computer, thoroughly invested in something, muttering to herself quietly under her breath. Although she didn’t look like much, the girl was a genius. While she was in college, Adora noticed Entrapta seemed to be having trouble holding down a job -her people skills weren’t the best. Where she excelled was any and all things data and technology-related. Coding, data inscription, hacking for information, GPS locating, robotics, the list went on. She even built her own crazy gadgets.
The forensics department when she first joined the force was absolutely lackluster if not inefficient, and Adora knew this would be a perfect job for Entrapta. She convinced Angella to give her a shot. On her first day, she absentmindedly solved a murder case that had been cold for months by running a simulation on a laptop she made herself. It was crazy. Angella hired her on the spot. Entrapta didn’t have the best people skills insofar as social convention was concerned, but she was loyal. Adora could always count on her, and she would definitely need her expertise to put this puzzle together, to find the missing pieces to her puzzles.
“Hey Entrapta.”
Without breaking eye contact with the screen, she held up a finger, continuing to mutter to herself. Adora waited until, finally. “Hi!”
“I need your help. Are you doing anything important right now?”
“I’m always doing something important.” As literal as ever. “Right now I’m working on making a flame-retardant polymer.”
Adora smiled, “Let me clarify: are you working on anything for a case right now?”
“Just waiting on some blood panels and running a few statistical analyses.”
Adora stared at her. “So…”
“So no! I’m not really doing anything. Why? What do you need?”
“We’ve got a vehicle here that I’d like you to check for...well...anything. Any hair, dust, prints, threads -literally any shred of evidence. The Feds brought it in and did a sweep, but I think they had to have missed something and you’re the best person I can think of to look for things that don’t want to be found.”
“Gee, that’s nice of you to say. I am passionate about the general concept of discovery.”
“So, whatdyou say? Will you help me look?”
“Sure! Sounds fun!”
They make their way through the side door to a covered garage area where all the compounded vehicles are. Entrapta knees next to her little tool box and pulls out a bunch of bags full of equipment. She dons gloves and a headlamp-looking light. She seems to get irritated with Adora for looking over her shoulder, so she backs off and starts trying to put the pieces together again. Huntara had said that the contact had no new information. That was bullshit. It had to be bullshit. Maybe Adora could try…
She looked at Entrapta who was fast at work doing...whatever it was that she was doing. If there was anything to be found, Entrapta would find it. The blonde scrolls through her photos until she finds what she’s looking for -a picture of the informant and a phone number. She dials.
It rings once. Five times. Of course they wouldn’t pick up. Ope. It sounds like they did pick up, but nobody is saying anything. “Hello?”
“Speaking.” Yes, but WHO is speaking? The voice on the other line is both scratchy and breathy at the same time.
“Is this Double Trouble?”
“Honey I can be anybody you want me to be, for a price.” And with that, her suspicions were confirmed. This person had skin in the game. They were in it for profit -probably playing them all like a violin.
“My name is Adora, I’m a detective working with the DEA and FBI. I believe you spoke to my colleague not but an hour ago.”
“Yes.” This person was cautious, calculated. Adora would have to be that way too.
“I’m hoping you can answer some questions for me.”
“I’m afraid I’ve already told your little friends everything I know.” At least it was the answer she was expecting.
“Well then I’d appreciate it if you could tell me again, please.” Keep your cool. Be polite, but firm.
“Now don’t tell me you don’t believe your own partners. How scandalous.” There was a dry giggle through the phone. “Clever girl. Don’t trust anyone -that’s the truth.”
“I BELIEVE they’re under the impression that you didn’t know any more specifics about Hordak’s whereabouts, or his dealings with the strip club, and I think you and I both know that’s a crock of shit.”
“My, my. The rookie does swear. And here I thought you would be shaking in your boots.” Adora could practically feel the sarcasm dripping through the phone. Wait, rookie? I never said I was green.
“Look, I know you’re getting a nice chunk of change for cooperating, but I can sweeten the deal if that’s what you want.”
“Using who’s wallet?”
“It’s not about the money -”
“Darling, it’s ALWAYS about the money.”
Adora was starting to lose her cool. This wasn’t a goddamn game. This was people’s lives -men, women, and children. She set her jaw and spoke evenly into the phone. “I WILL be exposing this operation. I WILL bring Hordak in and he will be held responsible for his crimes against this city and humanity at large -him and everyone else participating. Unless you wanna be grouped in with that load of garbage, I suggest you talk. I can guarantee that you will be absolved of whatever part we both know you play in his game when the curtain is gone.”
Silence. Then, finally, a breath.“Very good, detective. I have chills. I have to say, you give a pretty convincing performance, but alas, you don’t even know what you think you know.” That struck Adora as eerie.
“I will if you tell me.”
“Perhaps. That also requires you trust me.” Hah! Not a chance. “So...do you trust me?”
“Not half as far as I can throw you.” She paused. “What do you say?”
“I’d say I like your spirit, Detective. “
“Enough to talk?”
“Enough to tell you that I like your spirit.”
Adora tightened her grip on the phone, almost as if it would give her any more of an edge. “I’m only going to offer you this out one time, right now. That’s it.”
“Or?”
“Or the next time we talk, you’ll probably be in handcuffs.”
“Mmm, don’t threaten me with a good time, Miss Ether.” The purr of their voice made Adora uncomfortable.“Tempting, indeed.”
She waits. Silence for a moment. “What I’ll say is this: if you want to put a stop to it all and save your precious kitten, you’re going to have to go back to where you first came into all of this mess -where it all stopped and started.” Click.
Adora put the phone down slowly. Kitten? Catra? They know about Catra? Not only that, they know I have history with Catra. That’s worse. And they called me ‘Ether’. They knew my last name. I didn’t tell them my last name. They knew I’m new to the case -called me a rookie. She swallowed. They had somebody on the inside. Somebody was informing the informant. Shit.
“Adora, this car was cleaned.”
Entrapta’s voice pulled her from her downward spiral, but only for a moment, and only to confirm her suspicions. “Cleaned how?”
“I mean, like professionally. Somebody has sterilized the steering wheel and seats. Even the floorboards appear to have been vacuumed and wiped. I can’t get anything other than an estimation of how tall the frequent driver was.” Shit. Shit. Shit.
Adora wiped a hand anxiously over her hair. “How?”
“Based on the automatic seat placement, I estimate they were about six-one. Probably male.” Sounds about right for the guys who tried to kidnap them...but goddammit. Nothing else? Really? Somebody had to have snuck in before Huntara’s people got there. And nobody noticed?
Bzzzz. King was calling her. “Hello?” What now?
“Ether, some shit went down at the club. Two people are dead.”
“What?” Jesus, could this get any worse?
“Thornbrush told me to tell you to come down here. I’m not sure why. Don’t get me wrong, Ether, you’ve got eyes like a hawk and I know you’re invested in this case, but I think you might as well stay home. There’s not much you can do right now.”
“I’m not at home. I’ll be right there.”
“Oh. Well, you really don’t need to come down here, Ether. It’s not pretty.” He sighed heavily. “This just keeps getting messier and messier. We pissed some people off, that’s for damn sure.”
“Who were they? Do we know?”
“One of them is the owner, Robert. He was shot.” Damn. “The other is a middle-aged woman, blonde. Looks like she was strangled.” An image of the older waitress flashed in her mind -the woman who knew Catra. She really hoped it was a different person. Adora inhaled sharply. “Somebody called 911 because they heard the gunshot, but both were dead at the scene. The woman had an envelope in her pocket labelled ‘Catra’. Isn’t that the girl with you?” Goddammit.
“Yeah.”
“I hate to say it, but she may not be an innocent victim in all of this like we thought. Keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”
Adora didn’t know what to say. Her mind was still chewing on what the informant said. Back to where you came into all of this mess. Where it all stopped and started. Stopped and started at the same time? Or same place? What did that mean? Where it all stopped and started...Where YOU came into all of this mess...stopped...and started…Diego? Diego was a dead end. He gave them nothing and nobody else directly involved talked. Except technically this one irritatingly subversive -and extortive -informant who hasn’t really given anybody any good information. She probably shouldn’t even be giving second thought to that entire conversation. But...still it was all they had. The only person who was willing to say a word against Diego was the old neighbor who called in the first place, and she...she…
She made him angry. He’d become unhinged when he saw her there. So furious -and the way he laughed. ‘She finally did it’, he said -as if she’d been threatening to expose him before. ‘She got me good’. Like she made good on those threats. When he stared at her with those deranged eyes and making threats of his own through the thin car glass, she didn’t bat an eye. Looking back, she wasn’t frightened at all. Why? Because she was really just a tough old bird who lived in a rough part of the city? Or because she knew what was going on all along? Because she knew him? Because she was in on it somehow? That wouldn’t be unheard of-
“Ether.”
She had almost forgotten she was on the phone. “Huh?”
“I think you should just go back home. We don’t need you for this. Thornbrush already headed out.”
“Uh-huh.” She wasn’t going home. She was going to visit a Mrs. Sherry Weaver. Whether the informant was lying or not, she had to try SOMETHING.
“We’ll call you tomorrow if we need you.”
“Sounds good.”
They hung up. Adora says goodbye to Entrapta, thanking her. She walks back to her car, noticing how fast the sky seems to be darkening. She can’t help but feel like the quickening night is an omen. She would go back home right after this. She just wanted to talk to Diego’s old neighbor real quick, feel her out a bit. On the way, she dialed Angella.
“Chief.”
“Detective Ether, I trust you’ve had a restful day.”
Oh, they could skip the pleasantries. “We’ve got a mole.”
“Pardon?”
“Somebody on our end is feeding information to the cartel kingpin.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s a long story and I’ll come in tomorrow and explain but right now I’m-”
“Are you driving?”
“I’m on my way to see Diego’s old neighbor. She-”
“Detective, I removed you from this case. You will do no such thing-”
“I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”
“I am giving you a direct order to-” Click.
Sorry, Chief. I’ll take hell for that later, but we have to know. The sun has finally set and the last of the kids on this side of town have gone back inside for the night. She remembered riding her bike out here with Catra occasionally. She watches as the buildings get more and more shoddy and run down- big cracks in the sidewalk and plants sticking through in some places. The disparity between here and the west was depressing -it wasn’t right. Someday she would see it all change.
She slows down as she approaches the street, hoping she remembers which house it is. She sees it -barred windows nestled in an old, dark brown paint which had been chipped at and worn away by weather and time and neglect. The roof was missing a few shingles and had moss growing on it. The lawn was mowed, but full of weeds. No flowers, no shrubs, really not much other life at all. Adora pulled up to the curb right in front -she wouldn’t need to be there very long. She’d be lucky if this woman even talked to her now that she wasn’t technically a witness for any open cases. Against her better judgement, she left the car unlocked.
She walks up the steps, hearing some sounds around back -voices. Did she have company over? There were no cars out front? Somebody must have pulled around the back side of the house. Adora approaches somewhat slowly, unable to make out any of the voices. Although she’s sure none of them are Mrs. Weaver’s. She steps up to the entryway and rings the doorbell, holding the button down for just long enough to be obnoxious yet still polite.
A tall woman in a dark suit opens the door. Huntara. She just left the club. Why would she be...here? Was the DEA even involved in her questioning to begin with? Did she just get the name from the file? Or...was she the person on the inside? Oh shit. The air felt thicker than usual -more humid maybe - and Adora knew she had to walk on eggshells. Either she was paranoid and about to make a fool of herself, or she was about to make a stand for her life. She gave a smile. “Thornbrush, what a surprise.” Huntara didn’t return it “I’m here to ask Mrs. Waver a few questions.”
“Well, that IS a surprise.” Apparently not one Huntara was excited about. “...and a coincidence. That’s exactly why I’m here.” Adora cocked her head. “I’ve been thinking about my conversation with the informant since this morning and something they said caught my attention.”
“Ah. I see. Me too.”
Huntara shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I take it you heard from King. Shame about those two at the club. I liked them.” There was something about her eyes -something not there, something missing -that made the words just feel cold. “It’s always the good ones that end up being loose ends.” Adora’s palms started to sweat. “But that’s why we have you, Ether. You’re a good cop. You get to the bottom of things if you keep working like this.” It’s always the good ones.
Adora wasn’t sure what else do to but pretend everything was normal.“Do you think I could come in and ask Mrs. Weaver a few questions?” The twitch of Huntara’s mouth told her that the thin veneer of pleasantness in this conversation was all but over. The alarm bells had started to sound in her head. Be smart about this.
“It’s okay, Ether. I’ve got a handle on this.” And with that, Adora understood. Mrs. Weaver couldn’t answer anyone’s questions anymore. She was probably dead on the floor in there -another loose end. “Why don’t you go back home, go be with that lost kitten of yours.” Kitten. “I get the feeling she’s not safe until all this is all over.” A warning. No, a threat. The coldness from her stare seeped into Adora’s bones, causing the hair to rise on the back of her neck and her arms.
Adora nods, placing a hand on her chin. Play it off. You may walk away from this yet. Prepared to reach for her gun at the slightest movement, she manages to force a scoff. “Yeah, King said I should go home too. Maybe you’re right.” She dropped her hand and put it on her hip under the jacket -a casual display of her holster. It was almost instinct but it may have been a mistake. “If you’ve got it under control here, I’ll leave you to it.”
Huntara knew she knew. There’s no way she didn’t. Her only hope was to get to the car. There was at least thirty feet of open yard between here and there -she wouldn’t stand a chance in a standoff right now. Adora forces herself to turn her back to Huntara anyways, heart thrumming in her fingertips, praying for something, some distraction -anything that gives her an opportunity to-
“All loaded up back there-.” A deep male voice from inside the house, she knows Huntara turns, just for a second. That was it. Your only chance. Run.
Each step might as well have been slow motion. It feels like she’s dragging ham hocks through water but she knows from years of running that her feet are flying. It’s only taken six strides to cover half the distance -really, they’re more like bounds. Only a few more and she can get in the passenger-
A fiery pain tears through her body -back to front -causing her step to falter. She sees the blood and hears the pop and she knows she’s been shot. Even though her body is thrown off and stops moving in that efficient, mechanical way, she was already traveling so fast. She makes it somehow on sheer momentum, slamming into the side of the car and sliding into the seat -she’s on autopilot. Go.
The window shatters as she moves into the driver seat and starts the car -another bullet, no doubt nearly missing her. The wheels start spinning and more shots ring out from behind her, shattering more windows in the back. She assesses herself. She’s definitely bleeding -her body feels like it’s leaking energy, warmth, and it hurts but not in the way she thought getting shot might. Then her mind is travelling faster than the car, which is speeding down the end of the residential street and drifting around the corner, ignoring the stop sign. The last thing she sees in her mirror before the street disappears from view is a black Cadillac peeling out from behind the house into the street. They’re coming.
Huntara was the insider. No wonder the DEA supposedly ‘couldn’t pin down’ a location for their operations -because they were getting paid off, or bribed with...other things. She can hear Catra say that Huntara spends half her time in private rooms. Doing what? Adora shivered, disgusted. And she was cleaning up ‘loose ends’. Why did she want me to go to the club? Was King in on it? Was it an ambush? No. They wanted me out of the way so they could get to Catra. She ground her teeth. I should have known better than to leave her alone. She would call Catra as soon as she could. But right now…
She nearly got wrecked by a UPS truck running a red light. Huntara was closing in from behind. Of course, now that she wasn’t in a squad car she didn’t have a fucking radio. She hadn’t had time to get one installed in her car yet. She couldn’t call King -couldn’t risk him being part of this.“Goddammit…” She fumbled for her phone, almost hitting a cyclist. Her speedometer read 58 now, weaving traffic and hoping to God she wasn’t going to crash before she could reach the freeway. She had to get there before she accidentally killed somebody -or before somebody purposefully killed her. She dialed 911. It rang once, twice.
“911, what’s your emergency?” Of course, this poor dispatch person wouldn’t know a damn thing.
“I’m a police officer, off duty. I’ve been shot. I’m driving towards the freeway with the perpetrators following close behind.”
“O-okay. Where have you been shot?” Goddammit.
“The abdomen.” I don’t have time for this. “Listen. Please. I need you to have all patrol cars in the southwest area to head for the freeway -I need backup. Do you understand? I’m in a white Dodge Charger and the shooters are in a blacked out Cadillac Escalade.” She took a corner too sharp and skidded into the other lane, earning honks -her front bumper barely scraping against somebody else’s.
“Ma’am, I need you to stay on the phone. Tell me where exactly you are. I’ll get help on the way.”
“I’m heading for the freeway.” Another red light. “Near exit 47.” Where are all the fucking patrol cars when you need them?
“And you’re a police officer?”
Oh for the love of- “YES! I’m a detective with the B.M.P.D. I’m off duty, being chased by the people who shot me. They are still armed. Blacked out Cadillac Escalade. No license plates.” She checks her rearview mirror to find them still three cars back. Another shot was fired out the window with frighteningly good aim given all the movement, but it missed, putting a hole in her windshield and causing it to crack. Fuck. The cracks started spreading and it was getting in the way of her vision. Fuck. She takes a blind corner onto the on-ramp, essentially making a u-turn and cutting off several other cars that swerve to miss her. This one straight-shot strip of road is going to be her only chance.
Gas pedal halfway to the floor and flying close to blind, with everything she’s got Adora throws a punch at the broken glass. Both her hand and her abdomen complained -oh yeah, she’d almost forgotten about the bullet wound. The glass doesn’t come out but she can tell it’s close. The Escalade is gaining. She gives one more good throw and -when she hears glass shatter, she could cry she’s so happy, even as some pieces fly back towards her. She floors it. Thank God for this douchey car -it may actually save my life.
“I’m on the freeway!” She has to scream into the phone over the wind, the speedometer on the dash creeping quickly towards 90.
“There’s at least three units already in the area now in route.”
She’s already having a hard time keeping her eyes open against the now open air flow, still going in and out of the three lanes to avoid normal-paced traffic. This is way too goddamn fast already. She really doesn’t want to, but she has to get this thing going faster -they’re still closing in. 100. 105. 110. If she crashes like this, she will die -no question. But if they catch her, she’s dead anyways…
Finally, when Adora passes 115, she sees flashing lights in the distance -two coming up from behind, cars moving out of the way to let them through, and one ahead she’s catching quickly. Huntara doesn’t seem to have noticed yet, she’s still trying to close the gap to get another shot. Ope, now she must have. The Cadillac hits the breaks and veers off the freeway with a screech at the exit they’re passing, swerving around the slower vehicles. Adora watches in her rearview mirror as the two patrol cars follow, feeling relief only for a moment. Catra was a loose end. Huntara no doubt had access to her address. I have to call her. Wait, Angella has to know too.
She catches up to the third patrol car, which pulls up alongside her, then drops behind. They pull off to the shoulder together. Only when she turns the key does she realize how hard she’s shaking. She could be going into shock. She’s lost a lot of blood. The other officers step out of the car and she recognizes Andrew Seahawk’s face in her window. “My God, Adora! What the hell kind of promotion did you take? They gave you all the action at once!” He gloves up and helps her apply pressure, which hurts like a bitch. The ambulance pulls up alongside the car. She’s starting to feel a little dizzy. Or maybe nauseous? Or both. Both.
“Seahawk, you have to call Chief Angella, now. Tell her the DEA is in on it. Huntara is dirty.”
He looks confused -and worried. She must look worse than she feels. “Adora, I do-”
There’s no time. No time. “Do it! She’ll know what it means. Please. It’s important.”
In the ambulance, they’re attaching wires to her and putting bandages on and trying to talk to her but she can’t seem to focus on what they’re saying. She knows they’re trying to be reassuring but she just wants them to shut up and listen. Her vision is fading a little around the edges and her hearing kind of comes and goes with the fuzziness. She feels so sluggish....They have to get Catra somewhere safe -they’re coming for her - but the paramedics just don’t understand. She needs to be somewhere public...She steals a pen from one of them taking notes and starts writing as good as she can: Catra (Sister) 960-755-2384. One of them asks if this is her contact and she nods. “Call her. Get her out.”
“We’ll be at the hospital soon, and then…” And then nothing. Her consciousness slips away.