Puzzle by Nora Phoenix

26

Coulson was reading through the latest 302 forms when his phone rang. Who the hell called this early in the day? It was seven thirty. He and Seth had come in at daybreak, as they’d done often lately, attempting to stay on top of things.

With a sigh, he picked up, his eyes still glued to the report he was holding.

“Coulson, I have an urgent phone call for you,” Rebecca, one of their phone operators, said.

Coulson frowned, tearing his eyes away and focusing on the call. “Who is it?”

“A young guy named Elya Abramson. He says he’s a police officer with the Baltimore PD.”

Officer Babyface.“Put him through.”

“Okay.”

As soon as the line connected, Coulson heard panting. “Officer Abramson?”

“Yeah. Yes, I mean. I’m… I don’t know what to do.”

He sounded flat out panicked. “Take a deep breath for me. First things first. Are you in a safe place right now?”

Coulson snapped his fingers at Seth, who just walked in, then put his phone on speaker. Seth sat down on the edge of Coulson’s desk, listening intently.

The young cop sucked in a breath. Good. He could still follow instructions. “I’m in the bathroom of a McDonald’s.”

Not the safest place to talk, but at least he was around other people. “Okay. Is your life in danger right now? Do I need to send backup?”

A half-choked sob. “I don’t want to panic, but… Maybe? I don’t know.”

“Tell me why you think you might be in danger.”

“Remember my friend Emery?” His voice had dropped to a whisper.

Emery… The name rang a bell, but Coulson had encountered too many names to place it.

“IT guy,” Seth mouthed.

Right. “Yes, your friend in IT. What about him?”

Another sob. “He’s in the hospital. In the ICU. Someone hit him yesterday as he was driving home on his motorbike. A hit and run.”

Shit. Coulson didn’t like the sound of that at all. “Will he make it?”

“The doctors aren’t sure yet. I talked to his sister, and she said that the cops have no clue who hit him. No leads, even.”

“You suspect foul play?”

Abramson was quiet for a few beats. “The cop who took the car from the impound lot? Wesley Quirk? He stormed out of Emery’s office yesterday morning, looking mighty pissed. I wanted to ask Emery, but I feared they were watching him or monitoring his phone. I figured I’d stop by his house after work…but he never made it home.”

“Do they know about you?”

“They have to realize we’re close. Emery and I hang out all the time at work… And Quirk knows I work in the impound lot.”

Yeah, he was right to be cautious. “I can imagine you’re worried. Where exactly are you?”

“I’m at the McDonald’s around the corner from the precinct. My shift started at seven, but I’m too scared to go in. If they came after Emery…”

In any other situation, Coulson would’ve sent a uniform, but how could he when the kid’s own brothers in blue were after him? Coulson wasn’t sure who to trust, and that meant not relying on any outsiders. “Stay where you are and text me your location. I’ll come get you.”

“Thank you. I’m scared. I know I shouldn’t be, but…”

“You were right to call me.” Coulson packed up as he continued the conversation, and Seth did the same. “Are you wearing your uniform?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your gun?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Stay in that bathroom, okay? We’ll get to you as fast as we can. I’ll stay on the phone with you.”

He’d let Seth drive. He was the better driver out of the two of them anyway, having done all kinds of special driving training with the Secret Service. They raced down to the garage, then jumped into the car. Coulson slapped the blue light on top as Seth already backed out, then rubber-burned it out of there.

“We’re on our way, okay? Sorry, what was your first name again?”

“Elya. Elyakim, officially, but my friends call me Elya.”

“Okay, Elya. Stay calm for me.”

“I know I shouldn’t be scared as a cop.”

“Fear is a normal reaction, even for a cop…and especially when it’s one of your own that’s after you.”

He kept chatting with him as Seth bulldozed his way through the morning congestion, honking and driving whole stretches on the shoulder where possible. Rush hour was the worst possible timing to drive to Baltimore, but they had no choice. The young cop calmed down a bit, sharing everything he knew about the hit and run. Coulson made a mental note to have one of his agents look into it. The chances of it being a coincidence were slim, especially with what Elya had said about Quirk coming out of his friend’s office.

“We’re a couple of blocks away,” he said when they’d finally made it to the area. “Why don’t you come outside to the parking lot? Stay on the phone and put it on speaker. I’ll mute it on my end unless you ask me a direct question, okay? That way, no one will see or hear you’re on a call.”

“O-okay.”

A door creaked—probably the bathroom stall. Abramson’s shoes shuffled on the floor as he walked out of the bathroom. In the background, people were talking, ordering food, and calling out order numbers. Then the environment changed as he stepped outside, traffic coming in. Honking cars, squealing brakes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Why aren’t you on shift?”

The voice was stuffed with venom, spitting out each word. Oh, shit. The kid had run into trouble.

“I w-wasn’t feeling well, sir. I had to throw up and could barely make it to the bathroom here on my way to the precinct,” Elya said. Great, the kid could think on his feet.

“Bullshit. Not that it matters. You’re coming with me. You're gonna tell me exactly what your faggot little traitor friend shared with you about what he saw on that footage. We don’t like snitches here.”

Coulson’s stomach sank. It had to be Quirk or at least one of his friends.

“I don’t know w-what you’re talking about, sir. Officer Quirk.”

They had their confirmation. Smart kid.

“Oh, I think we both know that’s a fucking lie.” Quirk sounded like he was standing close, his voice low and threatening. “Give me your gun.”

“Why? I don’t understand. What are you doing?”

“Stop talking, or you’ll meet an unfortunate fate, just like your friend.”

Holy shit. The guy had no idea Abramson was on a call.

“No. I’m not going anywhere.”

Much to Coulson’s surprise, Abramson sounded resolute, like he meant it. Maybe he was emboldened, knowing his rescuers were close? This wasn’t how Coulson had intended things to go down, but they’d have to adapt and deal with it. His priority was to keep Elya safe.

He looked at Seth, who nodded, weaving in and out of traffic, then driving straight over a sidewalk to get to the McDonald’s. When he saw the yellow M pop up, Coulson removed the blue light off the roof of the car. No need to announce their arrival.

A smack and then, “Ow!”

He’d hit the kid, no doubt about it. That took some serious guts, considering they were in public.

“Hey, asshole, why you hittin’ him?” a female voice called out. “He’s a cop, you dumb fuck.”

If she called Abramson a cop, Quirk must not be wearing his uniform, or she would’ve worded it differently.

“Stay the fuck out of it,” Quirk snapped. “I’m an undercover detective, and he’s impersonating a police officer.”

Smart move, casting doubt about who the bad guy was in this scenario. Seth whipped the car into the parking lot, and Coulson’s eyes scanned until he found them. Quirk stood behind Abramson, holding him in a rear choke hold. Quirk was a head taller and a good forty, fifty pounds heavier. No way would the rookie be able to retract himself from those arms. Shit. This wasn’t going to end well.

“You sure? ‘Cause he don’t look like he’s old enough to even shave. I can’t see him hurting no one,” the same woman said, and Coulson spotted her standing at a safe distance. She was Black, early forties, and she had her hands on her hips in the telltale fashion of someone who had seen her fair share of things and didn’t take shit from anyone anymore.

“Back. Off.” Quirk held up his gun, or maybe it was the one he’d taken from Abramson. The situation was escalating by the second.

Seth parked as close as he could. No matter the urgency of the situation, Coulson still took the time to put on his vest and FBI jacket, and Seth did the same. They couldn’t afford mistakes here. He slid his phone into his pocket—making sure not to end the call with Abramson—then touched Seth’s hand for a second. “Stay safe,” he whispered, and Seth nodded.

He didn’t need to tell Seth to follow his lead. He would.

They slipped out of the car and stayed low, leaving the doors ajar. A man who got out of his vehicle saw them and gasped. Coulson put his finger on his lips, then pointed at Quirk and the rookie. The man immediately went back into his car, thank fuck.

“Look, all I’m sayin' is that—”

Quirk pointed his gun straight at her. “Shut. Up.”

She took a few steps back. “You ain’t no cop, not with you waiving that gun. Imma call 911.”

Damn, she had guts. And Coulson had no idea if she’d noticed him and Seth or not, but she sure was creating the perfect distraction. They crawled into position behind a car, as close as they could make it.

“Bitch, do I need to fucking shoot you to get you to shut your trap?”

Coulson took a deep breath, then rose in one fluid move, his Glock trained at Quirk. “FBI. Put down your gun.”

Quirk jerked, then pivoted, still holding Abramson, and pointed his gun at Coulson. “I’m a detective with the Baltimore PD.”

“I don’t care if you’re the queen of England. Put. Down. Your. Gun.”

Quirk hesitated. “Show me your ID!” he called out.

“This is not some game of who has the longest, asshole. Put your gun down, and I’ll be happy to show my ID.”

Quirk’s posture changed, and Coulson reacted before he’d even consciously processed the danger. He dove to the ground.

Pop! Pop!

He hit the asphalt with a smack that took his breath away for a second. That asshole was fucking firing at him!

Pop!

A scream. The thud of something heavy falling to the ground. A clatter. More screams.

But that hadn’t been Quirk. This shot had come from right behind him… He raised his head a fraction. Seth stood, his SIG Sauer in his hand after he’d just fired straight over Coulson’s head. “Don’t fucking move,” he said, his tone so commanding that even Coulson had the urge to obey.

He stepped past Coulson, who scrambled to his feet. Seth strode forward, his gun still trained at Quirk, who was now on the ground, clutching his hand while his standard-issued Glock 9mm lay next to him. Seth kicked it away. He'd hit Quirk's hand? That was some excellent marksmanship.

He followed Seth, who loomed over Quirk, his gun still aimed at him. Coulson’s heart rate slowed down again. Jesus, that had been way too close. Where was Abramson? Coulson looked around. There. The rookie cop was hiding behind a car several feet away. Good. The scene wasn’t secured yet.

“You fucking shot me,” Quirk spat out. “I’m a cop.”

“And I’m a federal agent who told you to put down your gun, so bite me,” Coulson snapped back. An idea popped into his head. Quirk didn’t know who they were and why they were here. They could use that to their advantage.

“That was a lucky coincidence that we happened to be driving by,” he told Seth, who didn’t miss a beat.

“Yeah, good timing we saw this asshole hold a cop hostage.”

Quirk groaned again, clutching his hand, which, Coulson had to admit, was bleeding profusely. Still, first things first. “You’re under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon on a federal officer.”

Seth kept his SIG trained at Quirk as Coulson kneeled next to him, turned him onto his stomach, and handcuffed him. He patted him down, discovering another gun in his ankle holster as well as a knife. He also found a wallet, which was perfect. It would help their facade that they didn't know who he was.

“You’re Wesley Quirk?”

“Yes. I’m a detective with the Baltimore PD. I’m telling you, you’ve got this all wrong.”

He sounded a lot less cocky than before, so the seriousness of the situation was probably sinking in with him. “Hmm, so you shooting at me was a figment of my imagination?”

Technically, he didn’t have to read him his rights, since he hadn’t declared his intention to interrogate him, but as with everything else in this case, he preferred to risk nothing, not even the slightest chance of anything the man said being inadmissible. With Quirk already trying to twist the facts, he might end up incriminating himself, and when he did, Coulson wanted to be able to use it. And so he went by the book.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

“The fuck is wrong with you? I’m a cop. Why are you arresting me? I was doing an undercover operation.”

Boy, was he glad he’d read him his rights because the man was digging a hole for himself that would only get deeper, and Coulson wanted to use every word he said against him. “Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

“Of course I do. I’m a fucking cop.”

Perfect. Hook, line, and sinker.

“Let me request an ambulance and grab the Medkit,” Coulson told Seth. A small crowd had gathered around them, and he didn’t like it. Situations like this could change in a flash, and in this case, he couldn’t be assured of the support of cops. He needed backup. He dug out his phone, ended the call with Abramson, then stepped away far enough so no one could overhear him and called it in, requesting immediate backup from the closest FBI agents as well as the Maryland State Police. In hushed tones, he instructed the operator not to inform the Baltimore PD, though how long they would stay out of it, he wasn’t sure.

Once that was done, he put a quick pressure bandage around Quirk’s hand, which showed a through-and-through shot. It was still bleeding, but his main artery wasn’t hit, so he’d live. Whether he’d ever be able to use that hand again was another question, but not one Coulson wasted any energy on. He caught Abramson’s eye again and signaled for him to stay hidden. Coulson didn’t want his face even associated with them. Let Quirk think the rookie had fled. Abramson nodded, then snuck back into the McDonald’s, probably heading for the restrooms again. Perfect.

While they waited for the proverbial cavalry to arrive, Coulson had everyone back up, then asked for witnesses. He wrote down their contact information so the FBI could reach out to them later for statements. The chances of needing them were low, but he wanted Quirk to assume this was a routine thing.

When backup arrived—an ambulance, two state police cars, and two cars with four FBI agents each—so did the Baltimore PD, and the air grew tense with impending conflict. Coulson mentally braced himself.

“What the hell is going on here? I hear you’re arresting one of my men.” A man in police uniform stalked toward Coulson, a scowl on his face. Coulson rested his hand on his gun. He recognized the Baltimore PD police commissioner from pictures he’d seen of him.

“Keep your distance, sir. This is an active crime scene.”

Oh, the man didn’t appreciate that. “Crime scene? What crime are we talking about?”

“Detective Quirk is under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon on a federal officer.”

The police commissioner paled. “What? What happened?”

Coulson raised an eyebrow. “You expect me to discuss details in public? I don’t think so.”

“Detective Quirk has rights.”

“He sure does, and I’ve read them to him. You should be well familiar with them. Feel free to contact the FBI, but at this point, we are not releasing information.”

Fuck that asshole. Luckily, his fellow agents swarmed the scene with assistance from the state police, cordoning off the area and keeping everyone, which included several police officers—presumably from Quirk’s precinct—at bay. Coulson took one of his agents aside. “Quirk thinks we were here by accident,” he said softly. “Don’t reveal we know who he is.”

She nodded. “I’ll make sure of it, sir.”

“Don’t let him out of your sight. Not even for a second. If he has to pee, someone goes with him. If he’s in a holding cell, someone will watch him at all times, and I mean all times. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

He waited until everyone had left, then headed into the McDonald’s. “Elya?” he called out softly in the restroom, even though he saw no feet under any of the stalls. “It’s Coulson.”

Feet appeared, and then the stall opened. The young cop looked shaken but steady. “Is it over?”

Coulson nodded. “He’s under arrest. How are you holding up?”

“I thought he was gonna kill me.”

Coulson put a hand on his shoulder. “We wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“I was terrified.”

“I know, and that’s understandable.”

“What happens now? Am I safe now that he’s gone?”

Coulson squeezed his shoulder. “Unfortunately not. I can’t tell you more, but he’s a part of a large network. I’ll have someone take you to a safe place to stay for a while, okay?”

Abramson nodded. “Sir?”

“Yeah?”

“I recorded the whole call from the moment you picked up.”

Halle-fucking-lujah. “That’s excellent thinking, Elya. Well done. Make sure to turn your phone in to the FBI agent who’s driving you to a safe location, okay?”

“I will.”

Coulson waited until another agent had picked the rookie up, bringing a change of clothes and a baseball cap so he could change out of his uniform and no one would recognize him. Only then did he make his way back to his car, where Seth stood waiting for him.

Coulson looked around. Everyone had dispersed, no one watching them. He pulled Seth in his arms, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”

“That was close, boo,” Seth said, his voice choked. “Let’s try not to do that again.”

“I’m down with that.”

He held on to him until their heartbeats had slowed down and were calm and steady again. Only then did he let go, but not after a firm kiss.

As Seth drove back to the office, Coulson didn’t let go of his thigh, giving in to the deep need to touch him, to know for a fact they were both still alive.

Then it sunk in. They had Quirk in custody. This would disrupt their plans. Now what?