Coming Under Fire

John didn't stay over last night. Both of our feelings were pretty raw after our fight and neither of us were in the mood. I went to bed thinking for the first time about whether or not we can make it through this.
After a fitful night of tossing and turning, I roll out of bed and take a long, hot shower. I get dressed in jeans, a black vee neck sweater, my leather jacket and Doc Martens. I do the hair and makeup thing, which helps improve my mood. When I'm done, I call Frank. He answers with a grunt.
"Hello?"
"Yeah."
"Whats up?" I ask.
"Just the usual, babysitting in Lawrence."
"You've been spending a lot of time in Lawrence lately."
"Tell me about it. My captain must hate me, sending me down here to make sure these guys don't fuck up their undercover op." He says.
"Are you at the station?" I ask.
"No, why?"
"I'm on my way to see Dominic." He's quiet for a moment before speaking.
"I'll call and have someone make sure he's waiting for you."
"Thanks. Stay safe."
"You too."
I hang up, drop my phone into my purse, then I scoop up my keys and head out the door. It takes fifteen minutes to get to the police station. I go through the public entrance and get buzzed in. A few guys greet me with smiles or nods, but no one intercedes me. Dom is waiting in the interigation room when I walk in. I shut the door and we take each other in silently. Finally I walk over to the table and take a seat across from him.
"I need to talk to you." I say. He holds up a finger.
"Me first." I nod.
"I want to apologize for our fight the other day. I was wrong. You're my little sister... I remember when Mom and Dad brought you home. I will always try to protect you, and sometimes its hard for me to accept that you're a grown woman and can deal with things like this. And you know I love John, he's just as much a brother to me as Frank and Carmine."
"Dom, I know you love us, thats why you need to help me out." He sighs, then nods.
"What do you need?"
"Vince Giambati gave me the name of a guy he thinks could be the rat in Scully's operation."
"You talked to Giambati?"
"Yeah." He sighs again, looking like I give him hemmerhoids.
"What name did he give you?" He asks finally.
"Scott Leary." He nods again.
"You know him?"
"We've met a few times in business dealings with the Irish in Boston. I'm not a part of Scully's everyday business, so I don't know him like Vince would."
"What are your impressions of him?"
"In my limited experience, he's cool, calculated, impersonal, and loyal. It was a surprise when he left his own to be with Scully. It raised eyebrows, but there were no ripples in the pool. Everything seemed very respectful."
"Do you think its possible Leary could be feeding information about Scully to the Irish?" I ask.
"It's entirely possible. Have you talked to Joe about this?"
"Not yet, we want to be sure."
"I take it you're in contact with John." He says.
"Yeah."
"Hows he holding up?"
"As well as can be expected." My phone rings and I fish it out of my bag and check the caller ID.
"Speak of the devil." I say to Dom.
"Hello?" I say into the phone.
"You've been in the cop shop for fifteen minutes, I take it you and Dom are sorting out your issues." John says.
"Yeah, and hopefully yours too."
"I'm in your apartment. How soon can you get here?"
"Give me twenty minutes." I hang up and look my phone over.
"What?" Dominic asks.
"He always knows where I am. I think he's tracking me somehow." I hand him my phone. He removes the battery cover and looks it over.
"Its not on your phone. Try your purse."
I grab my purse off the floor and dump the contents onto the table. We rifle through them until he picks up an ink pen. He clicks it once then tosses it down in front of me.
"Here it is. Basic gps transmitter." I pick it up.
"How annoying."
"You want me to destroy it?"
"No, I'll hang onto it for a while. Never know when it might come in handy for him to know exactly where I am."
"Agreed." He says. I put the pen and the rest of my belongings in my purse and stand, when Frank opens the door and comes in.
"Hows it goin'?" He asks us.
"Peachy." Dom says sarcastically.
"Yeah, well its about to get worse. We got a tip from the lady who owns the storage facility out in Methuen county. A locker was registered in John Kristaldi's name a week and a half ago, the day of the shooting and shipment hijacking." My heart does a little stutter stomp in my chest.
"What was in it?" I ask. He reaches into his back waistband and pulls out a folder.
"If word gets out that I let you two see this I'm out of a job." He slides the folder onto the table and I open it. Two pictures are inside. The first is of a few tall fruit crates, obviously damaged as if someone broke into them from the outside to get something inside. My mind goes to the missing money. The second picture is of a lisence plate.
"Who's plate is that?" I ask.
"Its registered to John's truck." Frank says. My heart plummets and I'm instantly confused.
"I... I don't understand."
"Did the lady get a description of the guy who registered the locker?" Dom asks.
"She just said he was big, dark hair, dark eyes. She couldnt remember the clothes he was wearing or what he was driving."
"Well, shit, Frank it could be anyone then."
"Did you happen to notice if John's truck had the plate on it when he took you to the hospital?"
"No, I was kind of busy, bleeding out."
"What does all of this mean?" I ask.
"From the police standpoint, this is damning evidence that John set this whole thing up, stole the shipment of fruit, which apparently held something else." He looks pointedly down at Frank.
"And, leaving the lisence plate behind is pretty damning too. It all looks fucking bad, Iz. And the longer he stays in hiding, the worse it looks." I nod, but don't trust myself to speak.
"I gotta go." I say finally, and start for the door. Frank catches my arm and swings me around to face him.
"Listen, I think I've been fair so far. I havent had you followed. I havent tapped your phone or had you apartment staked out. But, I need your full cooperation. If you know where John is, I need you to tell me."
"I don't know." I say, cooly. He releases my arm.
"What do you care anyway? You're Boston." Dom says. Frank's head snaps in his direction, but he doesnt say anything. He collects himself then turns and stalks out. Dom and I look at each other.
"I gotta go, John's waiting for me." I say, quietly, hoping he can't hear my voice shake.
"OK, be careful."

My mind is racing as I drive back to my apartment. I just keep seeing the lisence plate and Frank's doubting face. It was the first time that he's ever acted like John is a criminal and I can't shake it. I'm just so confused. My heart is telling me this isn't true, that John is a victim, he couldnt have organized all of this. But my head is looking at all the evidence. I'm just getting more and more pissed off the more I think about it. Pissed that John put himself and me in this situation when we were doing so good, and pissed because everyone told me he would fuck it all up between us. God, I'm an idiot.
I pull into my usual parking spot and tear across the parking lot, into the building and up the stairs. When I get my key out I realize my hands are shaking violently. It takes me four tries to get my key in the lock and then I use both hands to turn it.
John is standing in the living room, it appears he's been pacing. He whirls around when I come in to face me. I can see in his eyes he knows something is wrong with me.
"What the hell took so long? You said twenty minutes and its been over a half hour." He says. I toss my purse onto one of the kitchen chairs and shed my jacket before stepping into the living room.
"Theres been a break in the case. Frank showed me some new evidence." I purse my lips, trying to keep calm.
"What evidence?"
"A storage locker in Methuen county was rented in your name." He blows out a sigh, which raises my eyebrows.
"What was in it?"
"The crates from Scully's hijacked truck, mostly destroyed, and the lisence plate from your truck." He turns away from me and sighs again.
"Shit. Shit. Sonovabitch!"
"What the hell is going on, John? You need to start talking right now." I say. He turns and looks at me in surprise.
"What does that mean?"
"I need some fucking answers here!" I scream, surprised at my own rage.
"What fucking answers?!"
"Did you set this shit up? Do you have the money?"
"Are you fucking kidding me? You really
think I set my fucking life on fire on purpose? And for money? I don't want that fucking money!"
"How do I know you're not yanking my fucking chain? Playing me so I'll clear your name and you can ride off into the sunset." I yell.
"You think I would play you like that? Is that really what you think of me?"
"I don't know what I think anymore. I don't feel like I even know you anymore! Everything that is being presented to me is telling me you are a liar."
"Presented to you by cops! The fucks trying to put me away!"
"My brother-"
"Your brother is one of them!" He screams.
"You never answer my fucking questions! You make it about everybody else and don't take any blame."
"I'm being set up!"
"If you hadent put yourself in the situation to fucking begin with none of this would be happening!"
"Ok, tell me this, if I have the money, where is it? And why am I here?"
"I don't know, you tell me."
"You think I fucking have it? I'll show you!" He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, unfolding it. He holds it up in front of me, but I refuse to look.
"Not here. Maybe its in my pockets." He reaches into his pockets and pulls them inside out, letting all the contents fall out on the floor. Neither of us look at them, we just stare each other down. I hold my hand up then turn and walk into the kitchen.
"I can't do this. I'm done." I say, calmly.
"What is that supposed to mean?" He asks. I hear him step onto the linoleum floor behind me.
"I can't be with you, like this right now. Its too fucked up."
"What about me?"
"John..." I trail off, unable to finish. I hear him exhale, then he starts to pick up the contents of his pockets from the floor. When he's done, he walks to the door, so I turn and watch him. He stops with his hand on the door knob, looking down at his feet.
"Shit." He whispers, then opens the door and quickly leaves. I walk over and lock the door, then cross the living room and watch the parking lot for him, but he never appears.
I stare out the window for a few minutes, then walk over to the couch and plop down. I stare at my feet, then suddenly start sobbing. Huge, painful sobs that rack my body, while tears stream down my face. I cry and sob for what feels like hours until I'm finally empty. I curl up on the couch and lay with that drained, numb feeling you get after an intense fight and even worse cry.
I lay on the couch until it gets dark. The silence is broken by the sound of my phone ringing in my purse. A small whimper comes out of my mouth, then stumble through the dark to the kitchen where my purse is. The number is unknown.
"H-hello?" I answer, shakily. I know its John when I hear him clear his throat before answering.
"Its me."
"What do you want?" I'm startled at the desperate, tortured sound of my voice.
"I need your help... That is, if you still believe in me." I'm silent for a long time. The truth is I know in my heart he isnt guilty. I know John well enough to know he wouldnt have uprooted his whole life like this, wouldnt put his family in danger. But, I also know I can't be with him until this is over and we can work on us.
"I'll help you, but this doesnt change anything with our relationship."
"Understood. I'll meet you in the lobby of your building in five minutes." He says before hanging up.
I rush into the bathroom and check myself out in the mirror. I look like a trainwreck. My face is red and puffy from crying, and I have mascara running down my face. I quickly wash my face and put on fresh mascara, deciding its a slight improvement. I change out of my sweater, into a black tee shirt and zip up hoodie that hugs every curve. I pull the hood up over my face, then grab my stun gun and tuck it in the back waistband of my jeans. I put my cell phone in my pocket, then lock up my apartment and rush downstairs.
John is standing near the bank of mailboxes in the lobby. He turns and looks at me when I approach.
"That was ten minutes."
"I couldnt find my stun gun."
The lobby of my building is a pretty low key affair. There's no guard or moniter, so we're alone. There is a small sitting area and the residents mail boxes. The front door was recently blocked so no one could use it. By blocked, I mean it was locked and two medium sized plants were put on either side of the door.
John leads me over to the door and opens it until it hits the outside plant, then he slinks out. I follow, and he shuts the door. No wonder I didnt see him leave earlier.
We cross the small strip of grass and the sidewalk, then we cross the empty street. We walk down to the cross street a block down and sitting half a block down is a dark green trail blazer. He hits the locks and we hop in. He pulls away from the curb and we drive along in silence.
"So where are we going?"
"To Scully's headquarters."
"Excuse me?"
"Leary's in town, for whatever reason, maybe he came up with an alibi, and Scully apparently trusts him."
"So we're just gonna knock on the door and say hey?"
"No, you're going to wait outside until he comes out and plant a bug on him." He says calmly, never looking at me.
"Like a tracker?"
"No, a listening device. I'm hoping it will lead me to whoever he's narking to."
"How am I supposed to plant this bug?"
"I have faith you'll figure it out, just make sure he doesnt realize what you're doing. There's a bar across the street, maybe you can play the drunk bimbo."
"I don't know how I feel about this." I say.
"You'll be fine. You fooled Vince Giambati without my help. Planting a bug on this asshole will be a piece of cake." He says.
He turns onto what is known as Lawrence Ave. Its a run down street, with a handful of rough businesses and
flop houses. In the warmer months its usually occupied by hookers and the occasional dealer, but its cold tonight and nobody is on the streets. On the corner is Joe's bar. The back parking lot is mostly full, so seeing a car parked on the street wouldnt seem strange. John parks far enough back that a person walking out of the two story brick building in front of us wouldnt notice unless they were looking. We sit and scope out the building for a minute before he reaches into his pocket and comes up with what looks like a roll of mints. He hands it to me and I check it out. If Leary is as clueless as me, he won't know a thing. I take the bug and pocket it.
"Be careful. Remember I can hear and see everything, so if you need help I'll be there within seconds."
"Got it." I hop out of the truck and make my way across the street. I wonder to myself if Scully has security cameras out here. I look around but don't see anything.
I pace back and forth, forumlating several plans in my head. I gently finger the bug in my sweatshirt pocket as I walk, for some reason knowing I have it on me is reassuring and keeping my mind off the drama with me and John. The street is eerily quiet and I'm more than a little freaked.

Finally, the door opens behind me. I sway back a little and turn to see Leary walking down the street toward me. I put my head down and stagger towards him until we collide. I wrap my arms around his body to support me and I look up at his face.

"Sorry, man...clumsy." I slur.

"Jesus, lady, you're wasted." he says, holding me up by my armpits. I grasp at his jacket until I find a pocket. I quickly drop the bug into the pocket and hand onto his back.

"You know where the bar is?" I ask him.

"Over there," he points over his shoulder, "But I think you need to go home."

"Home..." I giggle.

"You want me to call you a cab?"

"No, man, I just need a drink." I pull away from him and start to move around him towards the bar.

"Be careful, lady." I wave at him and sway a little as he starts walking in the opposite direction. I watch until he rounds the corner, then I look over at where John is parked and hold up two fingers, signaling for him to wait two minutes. He blinks his headlights at me to show me he understands.

I pace back and forth for two minutes until finally John pulls up to the sidewalk and I hop in the truck.

"Good job. I'm having all the recordings from the bug sent directly to my computer." he says.

"You knew there weren't any cameras out there."

"Yeah, I scanned the area fully before I came and got you."

We drive back to where he had parked the truck when he picked me up and walk back to my apartment in silence. When we get inside, I dump my stun gun on the counter and grab a beer from the fridge.

"You want a beer?" I ask him.

"Yeah, what the hell?"

We both lean against the counter and crack open our beers. Neither of us say anything. Its just been one of those days and neither of us want to fight again. When we finish, he pushes himself from the counter and gets us each a second beer...Then a third...Then a fourth. After my fourth, I'm feeling buzzed. John doesn't really appear to be feeling it like I am, but he can hold his alcohol a lot better than me.

"You want another?" He asks. I shake my head. He sighs.

"What are we doin' here, Iz?"

"I don't know."

"Now probably isn't the time to talk about it either, when we're both drunk and feeling down."

"No." He pushes himself off the counter and grabs his sweatshirt and pulls it on, then he stops and looks at me. I watch his eyes dialate almost black and I know what he's going to do next.

He crosses the room, grabs me and kisses me. I find myself deepening the kiss for a moment, pulling him closer to me. But then my brain reminds me that we're broken up and sleeping together now would be a mistake. I push him away gently and put my head down.

"We can't." I whisper. He nods.

"I'm sorry."

He leaves without looking back at me or saying goodbye. I lock the door up behind him, then flip the lights off and go collapse in my bed and pass out.