It was late afternoon, almost evening by the time, Dee's little British sports car spun into the now familiar scene of destruction that was the 16th Avenue battle site. Looking out his window at the devastation he had yet to experience directly, Duffy grimaced.
"Well, if this isn't pure shiite!" he muttered to himself as the car slowed to a halt. He looked over at Dee. "What do you expect to find here, detective? Haven't we already established that Mordecai had effectively eliminated all traces of him and whatever organization that was assisting him?"
"That we have, Duffy," Dee confirmed before, with a nod of her head, she pushed open her door to step outside. "Still, there's something to be said about actually visiting the scene of the crime."
"I suppose," Duffy huffed, still somewhat grouchy from his lack of sleep as he pushed open his own door to step out into the chill afternoon air. Tugging his coat closer around his body, he slowly stepped to the front of the car to peer over the nearest plastic police taped line.
"Bloody hell, they sure made a mess here, didn't they?" he commented softly, rubbing the stubble on his chin with a frown. His bleary eyes, more clear than they've been in years, scanned over the destruction with careful intensity.
Much of the initial debris had been cleared out by the fire department in their search for survivors, so the massive destruction that Dee had witnessed shortly after the fact had been muted a great deal in this current incarnation of the battle scene. Still, with buildings hollowed out by the blast and others ruptured by the concussive wave, it appeared more like a scene from Bosnia or Kosovo after a good round of bombing, than an intersection in Alberta's largest city.
"Well, if this Brotherhood is anything like Mordecai says, then I don't think they necessarily cared what they were destroying." Dee tugged at her lower lip. "That being said, I don't think that this place is where we should be looking."
"Then why the bloody hell did you drag me all the way out here?" Duffy groused gruffly. "I had a very nice warm spot all picked out at Mordecai's apartment to sleep the next four days away in."
"Huh." Dee's frown grew slightly. "Yeah, I'm definitely convinced that what we're looking for is not here"
"Well, just what the hell ..." Duffy began to repeat with a frown of his own.
Dee, however, didn't let her partner finish.
"I'm a bit surprised you didn't pick it out already," she noted dryly, looking over at him. "Crime scenes aren't going to tell us anything we want to know, anywhere in the city! We've seen how the psionics work to cover anything that would lead back to them. Yet, if we want to determine how and where the Brotherhood is entering the city, we need to establish some sort of connection. A chain of evidence or events that will clue us in to their strongholds, their plans, and their next targets."
"Fine," Duffy conceded with a nod, rubbing at his face. "We need to establish an evidence chain. Straightforward police work. So how do we do that? As you and I both know, the mayor's task force discovered absolutely nothing significant ..."
Abruptly the old Brit's voice trailed off as his brain abruptly jumped into motion, somehow stirred into activity by the crime scene stretching out in front of him. Catching sight of the presence of deep thought on the old detective's face, Dee grinned. Her impromptu risk had paid off: to start making some headway on this case, they needed to make a jump in logic, an intuitive leap that would push them beyond the plateau of confusion first the task force then the RCMP investigation both had dead-ended against.
It was something that had occurred to her during her conversation with the enigmatic Mordecai. The comment about agendas, and how each separate group seemed to be working on their own. Dee had no doubt that, while professing to want to aide them in hunting down the Brotherhood, or whoever was responsible for the destruction in the city, that Mordecai was also working on his own agenda.
Then Duffy was talking, his low, thoughtful voice immediately recapturing Dee's attention.
"As you said, the various investigations discovered nothing relevant about this scene." Duffy mused out loud. "However, how deep has the investigation actually gone into the other related incidents across the city? What did you call them, detective?"
"The ghost files." Dee supplied and Duffy nodded, rubbing his chin.
"Yes, the ghost files." Duffy's eyes narrowed. "The presence of which suggests that some of the moles notated in Mordecai's download of the Brotherhood's local database are ensconced within the police department, working for the involved parties to assist in eliminating evidence of other incidents which may have drawn attention to them."
He looked over at Dee.
"First things, first, my dear Tragedy. We go on a mole hunt and take out our spies."
Dee grinned tightly.
"Are you sure it wasn't MI-6 that you worked for, instead of Interpol?"
****
Dee looked up from her computer screen as a cluster of CPD constables strode by, talking in low voices amongst themselves. But the four officers, deep in conversation about the emergence of Chinese triads in the ever-growing drug trade on Calgary's streets, didn't notice her hunched over the computer at her own desk, in the precinct's homicide division. Watching them go by, she heaved an unconscious sigh of relief.
"Quit being so paranoid, detective," Duffy directed in a low voice from his position looking just over her shoulder. "You and I both know that not every constable in the station house is a mole."
"Yeah, yeah, I know that, Duffy," Dee fired back with a hiss, her fingers resuming their quick dance over the keyboard as she restarted her database search. "But it doesn't make me feel any better. If the moles are, as Mordecai said, completely loyal via brainwashing, then you know they won't hesitate to take us out."
"That I know, dear lady." Duffy nodded tightly. "But if you duck your head every time somebody goes by, you're only painting a sign that says: Brotherhood moles, here I am! Come and get me!"
Dee snorted a soft chuckle.
"I can't fuckin' believe that you, Duffy, the alcoholically-challenged Brit that habitually drinks himself into stupidity, are telling me that I need to relax!"
Abruptly the computer in front of her peeped softly, announcing that the search she had been running had come to completion. Immediately Dee slammed her mouth closed and peered closely at the screen.
The search was to determine what officers had been responsible for evidence processing and data gathering at the time of all the incidents outlined in the ghost files. That included CSI, Forensics and the FD's forensic teams. Knowing that the names the Brotherhood database were likely code names of some sort, or, in the least, falsified, she had to set the parameters to take in anybody who would actually be involved in the multiplicity of investigations across the city.
"Here we go," she murmured softly as a separate window opened on her screen to begin scrolling up a list of names."
"Ah." Duffy leaned in close and, frowning, Dee caught a whiff of unwashed clothes. "Can you run a cross reference of this list with individuals that have recently received a promotion into their area?"
"Think the Brotherhood got their moles promoted into position?" Dee husked with a glance over her shoulder and, at Duffy's answering nod, grinned. "Damn, that makes perfect sense!"
But before she could start the secondary search of the new, smaller database of names she had just created, Duffy laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Make sure you note the beginning date of all the relevant promotions, Tragedy," he urged. "I think we can assume that the earliest rounds of promotions that put relevant people into place may mark the actual entry of the Brotherhood into Calgary."
"That's a pretty big jump, Duffy," Dee pointed out even as she started the next search with several rapid keystrokes.
"Indeed, detective, it is." Duffy smiled thinly. "But, considering we are working completely without evidence of any kind here, it's intuition that'll find us the answers we're looking for."
"Hokay, if you say so." Dee shook her head, wryly chuckling softly under her breath. Lack of evidence was an understatement! They were flat-out guessing. With a barely disguised sigh, she finished entering in the search's parameters and, hitting the return key, started it.
This time the search took far less time and returned a far smaller list. As the names began to scroll upwards, each marked with the date of their most recent promotion putting them in the position of responsibility handling evidence and information, a disturbing trend quickly became apparent.
There were two tight clusterings of names. One from approximately five years ago, all coming within a couple of weeks of each other. And the other only a year ago, again every one coming within a couple of weeks of the others.
"Shit, Duffy," Dee husked in disbelief as the clustering scrolled past her eyes. "Do you see that?"
"Indeed I do, Tragedy." Duffy grimaced. "It would appear that my intuition was correct."
"And if we want to go as far as to say that your suspecion was also correct, then it looks like the Brotherhood began setting up shop in the spring of 2012, moving swiftly to put the first wave of moles in place to begin covering their tracks." Dee pointed out, her own mind racing. "You know, we could use that date as some sort of baseline to check out the various tenants that moved into the buildings named in the ghost files to see if we can find some sort of Brotherhood connection there."
"Right you are, detective." Duffy smiled. "Good girl, I knew you'd put those pieces into place eventually."
"Gee, thanks, Duffy." Then Dee sobered. "Now that we have a list of probables, where do we go? See if we can convince the RCMP and Interpol to arrest them?"
Duffy shook his head.
"With the deadline to the Brotherhood's project looming quickly, we need to move as quickly as possible. That much I agree on with our large friend. No, I think I have a better solution, if not somewhat more permanent."
Dee looked over her shoulder with a frown.
"You know, by the look on your face and the tone of your voice, I'd say you've spent too much quality time in the presence of our hired gun."
"Perhaps, Tragedy," Duffy admitted. "But even you have to admit that the man got results, albeit in a somewhat unorthodox manner, without regard to protocols." He tapped his lower lip thoughtfully.
"Regardless of what he is, I can't help but think the man is some sort of law enforcement officer in his society. There's just too much methodical thought, direct approach and determination that mirrors a law enforcement officer in our own society." He smiled slightly. "I've known my fair share of cops and, my dear detective, our Mordecai is a cop, hired gun or no."
"Yeah, maybe," Dee growled, abruptly angry as she remembered the last part of the most recent conversation she had with the big man. "But I'm tellin' ya right now, Duffy, if that big bastard gives me any more of his superior attitude, I'm gonna ram my boot so far up his ass, he'll be tasting leather for a month!"
"Finding his mannerisms a bit grating?' Duffy's slight smile grew a hair. "He is an interesting individual, I'll grant you that." The smile vanished. "But he's the key to discovering what's going on here and stopping the Brotherhood before they can put the rest of the human race in serious jeopardy! And that you can't deny."
"No, I don't suppose I can." Dee pursed her lips in thought as she saved her list to the USB thumb drive she had stuck into one of the computer's front ports to take it home before erasing any evidence of her searches from her computer's hard drive. She popped it out of the port and slipped the cigarette lighter-sized drive into an inside pocket of her jacket.
"That doesn't make him any less of a prick, though." She stood and looked down at Duffy. "You said you had a solution to our mole problem. Wanna fill me in?"
"Certainly," Duffy said, taking Dee by the arm. "On our way out to your car. For now, I'll tell you that it has something to do with our vampire friends that we've just recently met."
"Vampires? Are you mental, Duffy?" Dee replied for what felt like the hundredth time that day, looking down at the old detective with an incredulous look on her face. "To them, we are nothing but meat on the hoof! We go strolling in there and they're just as likely to put us over an open flame than to look at us!"
"Not this particular bunch of vampires," Duffy said with a smile. "According to their leader, they've sworn some sort of oath that prevents them from attacking Mordecai or any of his close associates."
"And that includes us?"
"As witnessed by them not having me for a midnight snack. More importantly though, I think they have the ability to sense whether or not mental powers are functional. It didn't take one of them long to determine that Mordecai, while still a psionic, was ... how did she put it? Ah, yes, 'offline'. Perhaps they can sense if a mind has been tampered with as well."
"That's pretty thin, Duffy," Dee noted as they stepped out of the squad room and headed towards the stairs that led down.
"A bit, admittedly. But I think, at this point in the game, it's the best we can do without actually having a psionic of our own that we can use to read the minds of the people on the list to make sure!"
"Okay." Dee sighed before putting on a tired smile. "You're right: it is the best chance we got to dig these damn moles out! So, let's give it a crack!"
****