Chapter 7: Shadows

“Really, it's nothing I don't already know.” Jack said, looking over the information Crispin had brought him. When he had been promoted to head of Criminal, he had done a cursory check on his colleagues that had turned up pretty much the same things. There was a few new dropped assault charges here and there but nothing he didn't know about.

“But it's a start.” Crispin said. “Warren is just being thorough.”

“I know. It's why he's doing this. He's thorough.” Jack sat back in his desk. He didn't want to rush his people, he never intended on doing that. For once, though, he really would like some immediate results. Knowing there was someone around him that was responsible, at least in a small way, for the atrocities he had seen made his stomach turn.

Jack was a good man at the heart of it. He had a set of moral standards, codes he chose to live his life by. While he didn't wish to impose those same codes onto others, he did expect them to live up to the codes society provided as a whole. They were in place for a reason, they separated the sometimes complex sides of right and wrong into clear, definable laws and regulations. Without them, society would fall apart and the world would fall into chaos.

Besides, having a daughter of his own, the knowledge that anyone would knowingly and maliciously choose to kill innocent unborns made him furious.

“I'll just go back to the library and keep working.” Crispin signed with a smile. “Warren is probably walking Brook to her car again but I plan on staying a little later and finishing up a few things.”

“Good.” Jack nodded, approving. “I'll be in here if you need anything. And Crispin?” he stopped his assistant just as he turned to leave. “How is Warren working with Brook so far?”

Crispin shrugged. “They don't really do anything together right now. She mostly keeps busy in the library while we work in her office. Every now and then, he'll stop and just kind of fade out for a moment but he always comes back to himself. But I don't think Brook is the cause.”

“You don't?” Jack asked, looking serious.

Crispin shook his head. “He looks...angry sometimes when he does it. Other times, he looks sad. It's hard to explain. But it definitely isn't Brook.”

Jack made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat as if Crispin had confirmed something he had suspected. Before Crispin could ask about it, Jack waved him out of the room and, being the loyal servant he was, Crispin followed the silent order without question.

XXXXXXXXX

Brooklyn's body had grown cold, she was pretty sure her limbs were twitching. An ancient evolutionary instinct trying to kick in. Her heart had begun racing, her body spitting out adrenaline, a series of primal survival mechanisms turning on that she had never needed before this moment. Her entire being was tense, ready to fight or run for her life.

However, her mind felt strangely calm. She was staring at this strange man advancing on her slowly, as if even he wasn't sure why she wasn't moving, and she was analyzing him.

He was taller than her, but then most people were. He wasn't as big as Warren, but he was a bit taller than Crispin. He wasn't overly muscular, instead he was lean but there was definitely power in those long limbs. He was left handed, his eyes were a deep shade of brown behind his black ski mask, and, so faint she wouldn't have noticed it were it not for her body kicking into survival mode, she could make out the edges of a scar just under his right eye.

All of those things, Brooklyn noticed and took note of, her mind still strangely calm, as the parking lot lights glinted off of the metal of his blade.

He seemed to be waiting on her, as if unsure of himself. She wasn't running, she wasn't trying to defend herself, she just stood there, staring. It wasn't a reaction he expected so he proceeded with caution.

It was a good tactic, Brooklyn thought to herself. An unknown enemy, he had no way of knowing if she had a weapon on her and, if she did, of it would beat his knife.

He took a step forward suddenly, as if daring her to make a move, and when he got no response, he started to run at her.

A scream ripped through the silent night, scaring Brooklyn and snapping her wandering mind back into place as the fear finally registered in her brain. It wasn't until she reflexively dropped her body and jumped to the side, trying to get out of the path of danger, that she realized it had been her own scream that had scared her.

All at once, her mind was whirring into action, going down a short mental checklist trying to figure out what it is he could possibly want from her.

The first thing she considered was that he was a mugger. It seemed the most logical conclusion.

So, when she scrambled back to her feet, her clothes dirty from the parking lot asphalt, she threw her purse at him, hoping that was all he wanted and he would take it and leave.

However, he just batted the bag out of the air, and kept coming at her.

The next thought in her mind was that he was a rapist.

Unwilling to give him that if that was his intention, Brooklyn screamed again, hoping to alert anyone in the almost empty building to her predicament as she turned her feet back the complex, to safety.

She heard the thuds of his much heavier boots from behind her, all too close behind her, as she tried to put more speed into her much shorter legs.

She wasn't sure if it was real or a product of her own mind, but she was sure she could feel the warmth of his body heat on her back, the tickle of his fingers on her neck.

Just when she was sure that she was going to lose the race, and her life, the world around her suddenly went black and a strange sensation of floating came over her.

XXXXXXXXXX

“Oh, look at that!” a delighted voice echoed strangely in her ears. “You're coming back. How wonderful. Brooklyn! Can! You! Hear! Me!?”

“Why are you yelling?” Brooklyn asked as she opened her eyes. Her body felt heavy, like she had just gotten over a rather bad flu. But it wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, it felt so good she wanted to just curl up and go back to sleep.

An act she found herself almost doing until a harsh snap just above her face had her eyes snapping open again. She hadn't realized they had been closing.

She was greeted by the sight of Dr. Fontane grinning happily down at her, a small pen light in his hands that he started moving in and out of her direct line of vision without preamble.

“Great, you're dilating nicely.” he beamed. “How extraordinary. Tell me, how do you feel? Dizzy? Sleepy? Well rested?”

Brooklyn sat up and looked around, partially ignoring Dr. Fontane as he went further down a list of questions.

She was in his office, a room about the same size as Jack's but infinitely more messy. The stark white walls were offset by stacks of books, a great many she recognized as books she herself had obtained for him, and a faux wood desk. There was a cot in the corner that she knew he used a great deal that she was laid out on. His door was wide open but they were the only two people she could see or hear.

“What happened to me?” she couldn't help but ask as she tried to think back.

She clearly remembered going to the parking lot, getting attacked, then trying to run. After that, nothing. It was a really disconcerting thing for her not to remember something.

In fact, the knowledge that she couldn't remember something disturbed her more than the fact that she had just been attacked. That incredibly sharp memory of that man felt distant from her. Thinking back on it, she felt no fear or any kind of panic. It was like looking through the TV at a similar event, it felt completely disconnected from her.

“You were attacked, dear.” Dr. Fontane put a comforting hand on her shoulder and, although his voice was relatively gentle, he couldn't disguise the glee on his face.

“And you're happy about that?” Brooklyn asked, looking at his smile, worried.

“Well, Crispin heard you scream.” he said clapping his hand excitedly. “I wish I could have been there. Oh, well. Better I wasn't actually.” he laughed.

“Crispin spoke, didn't he?” she guessed and watched him nod, his eyes sparkling with interest. “What did he say?”

“'Sleep.'” Dr. Fontane looked like he might squeal from the excitement as he stood and looked her over. “He couldn't keep it from affecting you as well as your attacker. Tell me, do you remember what Crispin's voice sounded like? And when you followed his order, did it feel like you were obligated to do it against your will or like you genuinely wanted to do as he asked? Well, commanded actually. He screamed it so loud, a nightwatchman in the building went unconscious as well. He's already awake though. He's promised to tell me anything I want once Jack is done yelling at him for slacking in his duties.”

Brooklyn shook her head at his questions. She didn't remember Crispin at all. One moment, she had been running, the next, it felt like she was floating. And it felt so good, she didn't even try to resist. It only lasted for a moment, barely a second, but Brooklyn did remember that she fear she had felt subsided even before she lost complete consciousness. An affect of Crispin's voice?

“What happened to the guy who attacked me?” Brooklyn asked. “Is he here as well? Is he up yet?”

“Oh, well, that.” Dr. Fontane's smile brightened. “Crispin figured he was wearing earplugs. He was knocked to his knees but he managed to get up and get away before Crispin could get to him. Crispin would have yelled again but he was worried about how that would affected you.” the look on Dr. Fontane's face made Brooklyn sure that he would have dearly loved to have found out.

“And Jack? Warren?” she asked, standing experimentally. To her own surprise, she found that she was steady on her feet and, now that she was up, the heavy feeling started leaving her body. She had received the full force of Crispin's voice but, because the command had been simply 'sleep', it was temporary.

She took a moment to wonder at Crispin's calmness under pressure. Had he yelled 'stop' or 'freeze' or any variation thereof, who knew what might have happened. In gathering research and notes on sirens for Jack and Lester, she had learned a few things about the mythics herself. With a powerful enough voice, yelling 'stop' could have literally stopped Brooklyn's heart. Yelling 'freeze' would have her body suddenly dropping in temperature. Maybe not to freezing but definitely colder than would be safe. Her body was powerless to a siren's voice and thinking back to the moment, how there hadn't even been time to think about resisting his call, she made a mental note to thank him for his word choice.

“They are together.” Lester frowned at her trying to change the topic after not even answering his questions. “They're looking at the security footage.”

“It wont do any good.” Brooklyn took testing step but needn't have bothered. She felt completely back to herself, in fact, she felt rested and refreshed. She hadn't slept that deeply, that well, in a long time. “He was wearing a ski mask and had his body covered.”

Lester shrugged, uninterested in such things.

“I should go tell Jack that I'm up.” Brooklyn turned to Lester's office door. And she should tell Warren that she was okay.

“Oh, alright.” Dr. Fontane's face fell. “You'll come back, of course? I want to learn everything I can about what you experienced. Crispin is so unwilling to talk to people directly and Jack won't force him for me.”

“Um, sure.” Brooklyn tried to smile at him but there was nothing in it. All at once, she felt this strange need to get to Warren. She wanted to see his face, be held in his arms. What did it matter if he had turned her away before? She wanted to be at his side, to feel his comforting presence again.

She walked quickly out of the room, barely noticing Lester yelling at her not to forget then laughing like he had told a great joke.

XXXXXXXXXX

“I think that's him.” Warren pointed, staring at the surveillance footage before him. “There, in the shadows. See?”

“He's good.” Jack said nodded to say that he did indeed see him. He was sticking close to the shadows, moving very slowly, very rarely. Jack might not have seen him at all if Warren hadn't pointed him out first.

“There's Brook.” Warren said, feeling his gut tighten as she left the building, her feet moving rather fast.

The cameras were not the best quality, and they were situated rather high up to get a broader view of the rather large complex, so it was almost impossible to make out any fine details.

However, that didn't stop Warren's teeth from clenching as he saw the shadow finally break free from the building and begin following her to her car.

“We need to have more guards in that area.” Warren said uselessly. Jack had already spoken to the head of security about increasing either the number of employees, the number of cameras, or both. Warren had been in the room when he did it, he just felt the need to say something, anything, to remind himself that the footage before him had already happened and nothing he could do would change the outcome.

There was no sound, which was good, Warren didn't think he could handle hearing Brooklyn scream. They couldn't tell the precise moment when Crispin arrived except that Brooklyn turned, began running, and only about a half a dozen strides into her escape, she suddenly collapsed onto the ground.

Just behind her, the attacker staggered and fell to one knee. He shook his head, looked at something off screen, then turned and ran out of the parking lot.

A moment later, Crispin ran onto the frame and dropped down to check on Brooklyn.

Unable to call for anyone, all those in hearing distance would have collapsed the moment he issued his first command anyway, Crispin looked between Brooklyn and her fleeing assailant, torn, before gently picking her up and, holding her like he would a dear child, carrying her back into the building.

“Rewind it back.” Jack ordered Warren. The security guard who normally watched and worked the cameras was off checking around the compound.

Warren did so mechanically, more because it was an order than he felt any real desire to watch it once more.

“Stop.” Jack ordered and he did. “Now play it again and try to follow where he runs to.”

Warren's mind, for the first time in a long time, was sharply in focus.

He could be beating himself up for this, letting the guilt and shame eat away at him. He didn't walk her to her car every night because he enjoyed her company, though of course he did. He did it precisely so things like this wouldn't happen. He could be beating up his punching bag, working out the frustration that was weighing his limbs down like lead. And he fully intended on doing so.

As soon as he was finished here and he had seen Brooklyn off safely.

“Show me the camera of the front gate.” Jack instructed and Warren did as ordered.

This time, he couldn't see Brooklyn anymore. Though, as they watched, her attacker suddenly ran onto frame and off of the lot.

“No car. He must have parked further away.” Jack sighed. “I doubt that he's just some common thug then.”

“He planned this.” Warren cursed himself. “This is my fault. I should have walked her to her car. I knew better.”

“Yes, you did.” Jack said softly. It wasn't an admonishment, he was simply agreeing with Warren.

“The one time I didn't, of course this would happen.” Warren continued, warming to the subject. Maybe he would start the self hatred a little early tonight.

“What?” Jack said, cutting him off before he could really get started. Before Warren could repeat himself, Jack continued, “Pull up yesterday's recordings.”

“Why?” Warren asked even as he was obeying the command.

“Because I highly doubt that the first night you don't walk Brook to her car is the first night this guy happens to be by.” Jack said as Warren opened the file and began fast forwarding though the day.

“He's been waiting for her.” Warren cursed himself again. “I should have known that.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Warren slowed the tape down to normal speed and watched as the shadow moved into place. He sped it up again, and about an hour later on the tape, he returned it to speed as he watched himself and Brook walk out. They were arm in arm, laughing. He remembered he had been telling her a story. She had thought it was hilarious.

The shadow remained perfectly still, almost completely indistinguishable from the shade of the building it was hiding in. If Warren wasn't looking for it, he never would have seen it.

Jack and Warren watched silently as the Warren on screen and Brooklyn turned to have their kiss goodnight.

“I didn't even notice.” Warren felt the same guilt and shame he had been unable to stop himself from succumbing to since the night Josh died well up in him. Only this time, it was accompanied by fear. How could he call himself a haltija when he was such a complete failure? How dare he call himself a protector when couldn't even walk a girl, his girl, to her car? How could he keep her safe when he was letting so many things slip through the cracks?

How many nights, he wondered, had that man been standing there, watching them? How many kisses had he witnessed? How many embraces, how many laughs, how many words had he heard? Warren felt almost violated. They had been incredibly personal moments with a woman he had dreams about, and this man, this thug, had watched all of them like some kind of sick movie.

“I'll have Crispin go back through them and watch them all, try to see if he can make something out about him or see his car or anything.” Jack said after looking at Warren a moment. He paused the video, freezing Brooklyn just as she was about to climb into car. “Brook will be staying here on the complex tonight.”

“Why?” Warren asked even as his mind supplied him with the right answer. Until they could perform a check, make sure everything was alright at her house and that the attacker didn't know where she lived, her house might not be safe. “Yeah. You're right.”

“You may stay here as well, if you wish.” Jack told him. “Crispin and I are staying late also. We have a great deal of work to get done tonight.”

The sound of the door opening turned both men around in time to see Crispin signing, “Look who I found.” walking just ahead of Brooklyn.

“How are you feeling?” Jack asked.

“Fine.” Brooklyn said automatically, her eyes locked onto Warren's as she walked straight to him.

He looked down at her, a dark emotion burning in his eyes as she stopped just short of touching him.

He wanted to apologize, he wanted to grovel. He wanted to beg her forgiveness for his crime. Was there any way to do that without being totally pathetic or seeming false? He didn't think so.

So he settled for staring back at her, trying to convey without words what it was he felt. The fear, the shame, the gratitude that she was safe. He didn't know if she understood but she smiled softly up at him and that was just enough.

“I have a job for you.” Jack said to Crispin pointing over his shoulder to the video.