Chapter 3:
Liaison

Former SRU Constable Rafik Rousseau—currently Detective Constable Rafik Rousseau of Homicide—was initially unsure what to make of being assigned to liaise with U.S. federal agent Anthony DiNozzo. The city was still a mess following the bombings. Law enforcement manpower was stretched thin, causing him to wonder why this task had fallen to him when he could be spending his efforts on other matters. However, it quickly became evident why his ex-commanding officer had specifically requested him: this case involved a very recently deceased SRU constable.

Raf had not worked directly with Donna Sabine, but he had nevertheless been shocked and deeply saddened to learn of her death in Friday's terrorist bombings. They had many friends in common on the force; had worked on the same SRU team, though their duties on that team had not coincided. He had also been witness to one of the worst days of Donna's tragically short life. Over a year ago, SRU Team One had responded to gunfire at a wedding ceremony—that of Hank and Donna. Raf reflected now on how the day's events spiralled out of control due to both a betrayal and a crime family's vendetta against Donna and former undercover Vice officers. The gang marked the spouses of the cops for death, attempting to exact a sick form of vengeance for the in-prison death of the head of their crime family.

With a rueful shake of his head, Raf remembered Donna's anguish when she faced down her own ex-partner from Vice—a partner who had shot Hank. He thought of the murderous rage that spilled out from Donna, the despair in her voice at the thought her dreams of a new life with her husband were destroyed.

If Ed Lane hadn't been there to talk her down from shooting Bill Kedrick, Donna would be behind bars right now... Raf mused, then mentally kicked himself. Oh, God. Donna would probably still be alive right now. In prison—but alive. It isn't fair.

Raf had only been vaguely aware of the existence of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service as a law enforcement agency. While waiting for Agent DiNozzo to arrive at his police division, Raf turned over in his mind the details Holleran shared about his newest case. When he first heard from Norm, he could not fathom what NCIS' interest in Donna could possibly be. As far as Raf knew, Donna had zero connection to the U.S. Navy. The more Norm revealed, the more troubling it all became. Was it possible Donna had been kidnapped as a newborn? It seemed too incredible to be true, yet Raf had encountered enough craziness in the course of his career to discount the possibility outright. He did not relish the idea of approaching Donna's family with this investigation. Their lives were already in enough turmoil, but there was another long-suffering family out there that deserved answers.

It was late afternoon by the time the agent arrived, but the man did not seem the least bit fatigued by either the hour or his earlier travel. Tony approached Raf in the cubby-hole of an office and took a seat opposite the other man when offered. Now that he had the blessing of both NCIS and the Toronto Police Service to proceed with this case, he wanted nothing more than to push through, full speed ahead. However, this was Detective Rousseau's turf, and Tony knew he would have to respect that.

"I'm going to leave it to Commander Holleran to speak to Donna's family," Raf said in a voice that reminded Tony of Barry White's soothing bass tones. "We don't talk to them until he gives us the all-clear. If they say 'no', we respect that."

Interiorly, Tony mused it would be disappointing if that happened, but he gave a genuine nod of understanding. "That's okay. I get it."

Satisfied DiNozzo was on the same page, Raf continued: "Instead, we can start tracking down the people who would have been working in that hospital back in December of '69."

"That's more than forty years of history to dig up," Tony said, unsure of what precisely would be involved, unfamiliar as he was with Canadian law enforcement practices. "What are the odds we'll find something useful?"

"We won't know until we try," Raf responded. "You have the hospital name and the OB/Gyn's name, right?"

"Yeah, a Dr. Richard Bryant at Toronto General," Tony affirmed.

"That's already a good start."

"Probably retired by now. I'd also like to identify the head nurse on the ward at the time. She's the one who told Mrs. Cassidy of the alleged stillbirth."

Raf leaned back in his seat comfortably. "Yeah, she's definitely someone I'd like to talk to."

"Unfortunately, Mrs. Cassidy doesn't remember her name," Tony muttered, relaxing his posture as Raf had, balancing his briefcase on his lap.

"If she was head nurse, there's bound to be somebody out there who does remember," an upbeat Raf said, leaning forward again. "Don't worry. If she's still out there, we'll find her."

"Is this that whole Mounties-always-gets-their-man thing?" Tony asked, impressed with Raf's optimism.

"Uh, we're not RCMP here, man," Raf replied, looking at Tony with a wry grin.

Tony gasped in mock surprise. "Heh! Is that why none of you are walking around in that Red Serge with the hat and boots? I was starting to wonder..."

Raf shook his head as he logged into his desktop PC. "We're going to run this doctor's name against our criminal database and see if anything comes up."

"Okay, great," said Tony. "Agent Cassidy's mother is anxious for any news I can provide."

Raf chewed his lip. "I gotta say: One of my concerns from all this is if Constable Sabine was actually taken from her mother as a newborn, was she the only one, or was there some kind of black market kidnapping ring working out of that hospital at the time?"

Tony nodded. "I was thinking the same thing," he said quickly, not admitting his primary concern was still focused on helping D.J. Cassidy—the locals could figure out what to do with deeper issues affecting them, past or present.

"And if that's the case," Raf continued, "who knows how many people could have been involved, and for how long it was going on?"

"For your sake," said Tony, "I hope it's not anywhere near as bad as–"

"Oh, here we go... we got a hit on Dr. Richard Bryant, OB/Gyn," Raf interjected. "Seems he was drunk on the job and botched a delivery in '81. Both mother and infant died. Was arrested, found guilty, lost his license in '82, and was fired from the hospital; served some time in prison for involuntary manslaughter."

"Whoa, he was working while intoxicated? What a piece of work," Tony said with distaste.

"News archives from the time say even his wife left him over the scandal," Raf continued.

"Where is he now?"

"Uh... Necropolis Cemetery."

Realisation hit Tony. "Wait—he's dead?"

"Obituary says as of June, 1989."

"Damn."

SRU Headquarters

Winnie stood up to leave her desk as Peter Henderson arrived at her side to relieve her from dispatch duty.

"Have a good night, Winnie," he said as he slipped on the headset and logged into the communications system.

"You, too," she replied before heading towards the locker room to change into civilian clothes. Minutes later, she emerged and was met by Constable Michelangelo "Spike" Scarlatti, who had just completed another in a seemingly endless series of meetings regarding the past Friday's events. She smiled at him as he crossed over to give her a quick hug.

"Hi," he greeted her warmly.

"'Hi' to you, too," she replied. For the hundredth time, Winnie sent a mental prayer of thanksgiving that Spike had made it through that day alive and unscathed. Disarming bombs was his specialty, so the danger to him, specifically, had never felt so dire as it had then.

"Ready to go?" Spike asked expectantly.

"Yes, absolutely," she said with a nod, happy for his company. Privately, the thought crossed Winnie's mind how glad she was this man had waited long enough for her to drop her unwritten rule about not wanting to date cops. It had been a rule she rationalized to be one that would keep her safe from heartbreak; in the end, it was a rule that made her miserable. Tonight was going to be their first official dinner date, and despite the horrors they had all endured mere days ago, Winnie was looking forward to a fun evening.

"Good day?" Spike asked, as they drove to their destination.

"Pretty good," she answered. "Coordinating with the other regions for calls hasn't been as complicated as I feared it might be. With Team Three down for who knows how long, and your team being stood down for the week by Holleran... I was a little worried things might get out of control. But things were pretty quiet today."

Spike gave a slow, solemn nod. "Good..."

Tentatively, Winnie asked: "Any news about Greg?"

"Still in the ICU," he replied. "Ed told me; he checked up on the Sarge when they discharged Clark today. Dean is staying with the Lanes for the next little while... at least until Greg recovers."

"I'm so relieved Clark is going to be okay. But poor Dean," Winnie breathed a sigh. "You should have seen him, Spike. The kid was so terrified for his dad when he heard what was going on at Fletcher Stadium. Part of me wanted to kill the transmission, but... somehow I think having Greg hear Dean's voice... telling him to hold on... somehow, I think that gave him the strength he needed."

A cold, heavy boulder seemed to settle in Spike's gut as the memory of that day streaked across his consciousness. He remembered hearing his boss' yelp of pain after getting shot. There was also his own yelling at Greg over the comm to cut the wire to disable Marcus Faber's last bomb. He remembered the awful dread of not knowing if Greg could even still hear him; not knowing if he had the ability to complete the necessary action.

"You okay?" Winnie asked carefully.

"Umm, not really," Spike admitted, trying to keep focused on driving though his eyes were threatening to tear up. "I—I thought Greg was going to die."

"Me, too," Winnie whispered.

"It should have been me," Spike declared. "I am the bomb expert on Team One. I'm the one with all the training for that."

"Spike..."

"And then Team Three... When I heard Donna say the bomb at Brookfield wasn't like the other bombs we'd seen earlier and that she couldn't find the detonator–"

"No, don't you do this to yourself, Spike Scarlatti!" Winnie cut in. "You know better than to blame yourself for what happened to Team Three. You know Faber wanted to kill as many people as possible. He set that trap deliberately. If it had been you who responded to that... you would have been the one he killed."

"I nearly puked when Greg said Donna was gone," muttered Spike, seeming not to have heard what Winnie said. "If I could have just been there... Maybe I could have seen something she didn't..."

"Please, stop," Winnie beseeched, eyes smarting with moisture that threatened to spill over.

"I can't help but think about it, Winnie! Two cops are gone. Donna was my friend. We let her down."

"She was my friend, too." Winnie's throat closed. She swiped at the tear that fell down her cheek.

Spike inhaled sharply in an attempt to get his emotions under control.

"She wouldn't have blamed you, Spike," Winnie said after her tears stopped. "You heard what she said..."

"She said she could 'handle it'," Spike repeated Donna's words with a bitter edge. "She should have waited. If she had just waited..."

"Don't you think, Spike... that she said 'I can handle it' because she knew it was actually hopeless? That she did not want to put you or anyone else in unnecessary danger? That it was her way of warning everyone to stay away?"

By his silence, Winnie figured Spike had not considered that possibility.

"It should not have happened. Period."

"You're right," Winnie affirmed. "It shouldn't. But it did. And it's okay to be upset that there was nothing you could have done to prevent it."

"Okay, time to change the subject," Spike announced, having no more desire to discuss the matter.

"Fine by me," said Winnie, though she worried the mood in the car had thoroughly ruined any chance of their enjoying the planned date. Maybe choosing to go out tonight had been a bad idea. She had been on the verge of telling Spike how Holleran had asked her to pull Donna's file prior to the meeting with that U.S. federal agent, but decided any further mention of their fallen colleague would be a terrible idea.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Spike spoke after several minutes of uncomfortable silence.

"For what?"

"I didn't mean to upset you. I want us to have a good time tonight, and things did not get off to a very good start."

"I want us to have a good time tonight, too," Winnie admitted. "And I know we planned this date before... everything happened."

"Should we have cancelled? Do you want to do this another time?"

"No, no. I want to go out with you, Spike!" Winnie was adamant. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

"Me, too."

"Good. Then let's put all the bad stuff behind us. At least for the next few hours."

"Agreed," Spike said with a decisive nod, and forced himself to focus on the road ahead, knowing there would time enough in the days to come to grieve.

Tony settled into his utilitarian hotel room for the night. Before leaving Raf's division, the men agreed their first course of action in the morning would be to speak with administration at Toronto General. Raf promised he would even procure a warrant to avoid any hassles.

So far, things were rolling smoother than he could have hoped, and he was grateful for the cooperation of the SRU and Toronto Police Service. After emailing a quick report to Director Vance about the day's events confirming an investigation had indeed been opened, Tony knew his next action should be to contact D.J. Cassidy.

She answered his call on the second ring. Her eagerness at wanting to know how the investigation was progressing was initially overwhelming. Tony filled her in with as many details as he was officially permitted, hoping she would be satisfied for the time being.

"We haven't got the family's permission yet for DNA comparison, but we're working on it," Tony said.

"But there was still a match with the facial-recognition program, you said?" asked D.J.

"That's right," Tony confirmed.

Her next words to him would catch him off-guard: "I'm coming to Toronto."

"No, no, there's no need to do that, Mrs. Cassidy," Tony said hastily.

"I have to, Agent DiNozzo. I have to put this to rest."

"Mrs. Cassidy, we're still not even 100% certain Donna Sabine was Paula's twin—"

"You might not have DNA evidence," she said, "but we both know all the evidence you told me about so far supports the possibility she was my daughter. A daughter who was stolen from me at birth. Agent DiNozzo, I've spent forty-two years believing a lie. It's time to confront that lie and bring the truth to light."

"You're free to do what you think is right, Mrs. Cassidy," Tony relented. "My only request is that you allow us to investigate this without any interference."

"You have my word, Agent DiNozzo," D.J. said solemnly. "I simply need to be there when you get to the bottom of this, wherever it leads."

"Okay, I'm in Toronto for the next forty-eight hours, unless Director Vance permits an extension."

"I'm already on-line now booking a red-eye flight," said D.J.

Damn, she wasn't joking, DiNozzo thought. "Fine. You have my number; let me know when you arrive."

"I'll do that, Agent DiNozzo. I can't tell you how thankful I am that you're doing all of this. Paula would... Paula would have been so happy."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Cassidy," Tony said. "For your sake, I really do hope we can get the answers you're looking for."

TBC