The Right to Love - Part 13

[lenageek]

Title: The Right to Love

Spoilers: Takes place after ep 101 (8x09) after Pepa and Silvia have become engaged. This is a sequel to my previous PepSi fanfic, In Love's Defense. My fic follows LHDP up to ep 101 but departs from the show at that point - ep 104 never has and never will exist in this version of Pepa and Silvia’s world.

Rating: NC-17 for profanity/graphic language, more angst and a major side of ass kicking!

Pairing: Pepa/Silvia

Summary: As Pepa and Silvia deal with the aftermath of their encounter with El Gordo, a new case comes forward that challenges their rights as well as their lives.

A/N/Disclaimer: The characters of LHDP aren’t mine. Not sure if I got the medical jargon or other technical details correct since some parts are fictionalized. And yes, more angst! I have a twisted imagination at times, I know! But the happy ending rule still applies - tho it may take a while to get to.

[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4] [ Part 5] [ Part 6] [ Part 7] [ Part 8] [ Part 9] [ Part 10] [ Part 11] [ Part 12]


A temperate breeze blew softly, clinging against Pepa’s overheated skin. She languidly stretched out her long frame, relishing the cool sensation on her nude body. Her lips quirked in a smile, as she tasted the salt in the air that lingered on the back of her tongue, mixed with a unique flavor that only a certain redhead could provide. Her eyes closed against the stinging brightness of the sun, she mumbled an incoherent, happy little sound, pulling her wife closer against the curve of her body.

“Umph.” Silvia mildly protested at the motion. “I think I have sand in places that it was never meant to go.”

“Don’t move, pelirroja!” The brunette softly threatened, the sexy growl sending shivers up the inspector’s frame. “…too comfortable! And don’t complain. That’s what you get for tackling me on the beach!”

“Me?” Silvia asked innocently. She turned in Pepa’s embrace, propping her head up on her hand, earning another muffled objection. “You were the one who wanted to come and play in the water!”

The smaller woman smiled at her wife that lay peacefully under her, as she arranged disheveled dark bangs. “Gracias, mi amor. For taking me here to Huelva. I never spent much time in the south, and I love that you got to show it to me.”

“Mm…” Pepa opened her eyes to be greeted by the smiling countenance. “Well, Huelva’s all right. Once I got up to Madrid, a few people teased me about my Andalusian accent.”

“No, I think it’s sexy!” Silvia giggled before leaning down to press her lips against the warmth of Pepa’s skin once more. She came up for air, as she tangled her right hand with her partner’s seeing their wedding bands glint in the fading sunlight.

“Don’t ever think you have to change, Pepa. Your accent or who you are, just to fit in.” Silvia softly confided. “That’s why I love you.”

“Likewise, mi amor. I want to watch sky and to have you tell me the names of every constellation, what the stars are made of…everything.”

“Even if it’s incredibly dorky?”

“Especially if it’s dorky!” Pepa grinned. She almost felt lightheaded, she was so content in this moment.

“Hey.” She glanced over a pale shoulder. “The sun’s about to set. How about we watch it go down and then we can get some of that stargazing in?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Pepa sat up, covering Silvia’s bare body with her own. She took the large blanket they had been lying on and wrapped it around both of them, protecting them from the increasing chill of the coming evening. She squinted against the fading light that extended across the clouds, which were starting to display a magnificent resplendence of pinkish tints, russet oranges and darker blues.

“It’s a nice one, isn’t it?”

“Beautiful.” Pepa felt Silvia’s lungs expand as she sighed happily. “We should come back here every year.”

“You love it that much, hm princesa?”

“Well, the views are gorgeous, the food’s delicious, and the beaches are great to, um…play in.” Silvia paused as she felt Pepa chuckle. She turned and tipped Pepa’s chin so she could look directly into her liquid brown eyes. “But I love this place…because it gave me you.”

Pepa paused, conveying her mutual love for her wife through her ardent gaze. “It’s a date then, Señora Miranda.”

The brunette felt her wife cup the back of her neck, pulling her willingly into a soft kiss that quickly became hungry with need. Pepa felt the craving that had been so recently satiated, slowly burn until she felt her entire body become flush with heat. Pulling away, she leaned her forehead intimately against her wife’s, palming a soft cheek.

Her brain dimly noted the hiss of the waves, and the strident cawing of the seagulls wheeling overhead, which suddenly grew inordinately sharp and intense. She shook her head, trying to clear the screaming of the gulls from earshot, but the vibrations stabbed insistently into her brain, with knife-like precision. The screeching got built and built into an amorphous shrill whine…

…of the monitor of the EKG machine as it starkly displayed a flatline.

Silvia Castro Miranda was gone. Pepa cradled her dead wife in her arms, feeling something inside shatter into a million tiny shards. The other half of her was gone.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this! We were supposed to make love on the beach, watch sunsets and talk about the stars together. We were going to kiss and laugh and hold each other in bed until we were old!

“Princesa…” Pepa whispered, wishing she could drown out the awful sound of the monitor. “I thought you were going to spend your life with me! You proposed to me and we got engaged…”

The agent was unaware she was starting to shudder uncontrollably as she rocked the warm body slightly back and forth. “…and an engagement is a promise, no? I know you’re not one to break your promises.”

A pair of arms encircled Pepa’s waist and pulled her off Silvia’s body with sheer brute force. The tall woman started to thrash, fiercely struggling to break her brother’s uncompromising hold, but he’d managed to pin her arms at her sides. She clawed at his arms and kicked backwards, scraping and bruising his skin, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Paco!” Pepa started to hyperventilate through her tears. “Don’t! Silvia needs me! She -”

“Shh, hermana.” Paco crooned in her ear, realizing that his beloved sister was in a state of shock bordering on complete hysteria. “Silvia loves you. She’ll come through.”

They watched as Dr. Gonzalez thrust a manual oxygen mask into Povedilla’s hands to place over Silvia’s face as he instructed Don Lorenzo to begin chest compressions as he readied the paddles. As if lifted by an invisible force, Silvia’s body arced unnaturally as the shock traveled through her, before slamming back down on the table.

Pepa simultaneously jerked at the appalling sight, as she sank to her knees, dragging Paco with her. “Oh god, no!” She choked, feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. “Paco, I can’t watch her die!”

The inspector gripped his sister even tighter in mute comfort, his tears twining moist streaks down his face and into his beard.

Dr. Gonzalez grit his teeth as he shocked Silvia again, looking over to the EKG machine to see the same sickening results - no breath or pulse. He decisively jabbed the button on the defibrillator again, willing it to charge faster.

“Vamos, Silvia.” He muttered to his patient, who continued to lie motionless. “Don’t you dare get married and leave your wife on the same day!”

Pepa trembled as the pads were applied to her wife’s chest and the unresponsive body jolted again, as a long, loud moan escaped her gut. Crazed, senseless thoughts careened through her brain - how she wanted to snatch up the sheet that had fallen around Silvia’s hips and tuck it under her chin to protect her partner’s modesty. How she wanted to scream for the doctor to stop, because he was surely hurting Silvia with the powerful electric charges.

It’s not a nightmare this time. It’s real, it’s real, it’s real…my Silvia’s gone…

The brunette clenched her jaw so hard it ached, as she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep a sudden surge of bile from escaping her throat. All the fight suddenly went out of her as she sagged bonelessly in Paco’s arms.

Struggling with her the burden of her dead weight, the inspector managed to hold Pepa up, his mind reverberating with his own fierce prayers. He desperately wrung out every entreaty with every ounce of faith that he possessed. Paco knew the stark reality that lay before him - he knew that if Silvia died, he’d lose his sister as well.

A faint blip with an echoing beep appeared briefly on the monitor. Pepa’s head snapped up, almost smacking Paco in the chin. Her own heart thudded so wildly, she became lightheaded, as she dared to hope that what she had seen wasn’t an illusion. A second beep infused her body with an abrupt charge of adrenaline as she stood and rushed on wobbly legs to take Silvia’s hand.

Dr. Gonzalez smiled, exhausted with the small victory as Silvia’s chest moved slightly of its own accord and her heart began to pump again. He put away the paddles and clasped a hand on Don Lorenzo’s shoulder, who clutched it gratefully. But the commissioner’s wet eyes couldn’t equate with the tall woman who fervently whispered her wife’s name over and over again as she showered Silvia’s face with a mixture of kisses and salty tears.

“Pepa.” The white-haired physician gently placed a firm hand on the agent’s shoulder, temporarily diverting her attention. “We need to put this back on her.”

The agent took the oxygen mask, delicately placing it over Silvia’s face as she continued to stroke her hair. She watched her for another moment before glancing up uneasily at the monitor, afraid that it would suddenly flatline again.

“Dr. Gonzales, Silvia’s…” Pepa swallowed thickly, as she gathered up the nerve to ask. “She isn’t waking up, she -”

“Pepa, let’s just get her to the hospital and we can evaluate her further.” The physician softly interrupted, speaking in his usual unruffled manner as he squeezed her shoulder. “Vale?”

Pepa nodded mutely, almost numb with a combination of physical pain, exhaustion and the volatile waves of emotion she’d endured in only the last ten minutes. She frowned deeply, wishing that this situation could be like it was in the movies - melodramas where the patient always miraculously opened their eyes right after they were brought back to life and were absolutely fine at the end of day. But Silvia’s hand lay limp and motionless in her own, bringing the cruel reality smashing back into Pepa’s mind.

Static hissed and sputtered on Don Lorenzo’s radio as it came to life, just as a noisy clamor of voices was heard from all the way down the stairs.

“Comisario, we’re here, we’re here!” Mariano’s voice came crackling through the device.

Seconds later, the large agent appeared, red-faced and breathless at the door. He was drenched from head to foot, leading two paramedics in bright yellow jackets. The commissioner stepped back to allow the medical professionals to work, as they quickly unloaded equipment from the stretcher they’d wheeled in, following Dr. Gonzalez’s instructions.

“Gracias a Dios!” Don Lorenzo grasped Mariano by the shoulders before pulling him into a hug. He clapped him on the back for good measure before holding him at arm’s length. “How are the roads?”

“The storm’s letting up a little bit.” The sub-inspector reported. “I think we found a route that will get us to the hospital a lot faster than what it took for us to get here.”

“Muy bien. You and Pove stay here and get the power back on if you can.” Don Lorenzo glanced out to the hallway where most of the agents in the precinct waited, looking through the glass with wide-eyed, concerned stares. “Curtis!”

The agent scurried in the room. “Sí, comisario?”

“What’s going on with those idiots from IA?”

The heavy mustache twitched in amusement. “Not to worry, comisario. We took care of it. Salgado’s dealing the legalities so we can file charges against them that will stick.”

“Humph! They’ll stick as well as my foot up their ass, if I have anything to do about it!” Don Lorenzo rumbled dangerously. He gestured impatiently to the throng in the hallway. “You two clear that hallway so we can get Silvia out of here! Paco and I are going to the hospital with the girls. Remember to keep the lines of communication open so we can continuously update each other.”

“Sí, Don Lorenzo!” Both men saluted quickly before hastening to follow his orders.

The older man turned his attention back to his daughter. His intense gaze softened as he watched Pepa help settle Silvia on the gurney, before carefully wrapping a gold mylar blanket around her frame to insulate her weakened body.

The commissioner went to Silvia’s side, placing a gentle hand on her leg. “Are we ready?”

“I think so.” Pepa said softly, getting a nod of confirmation from Dr. Gonzalez. She bent to mummer in her wife’s ear. “Vamos, pelirroja. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

The small group surrounding the stretcher moved quickly in coordination, exiting the lab and moving swiftly down the hallway towards the waiting ambulance.

___

Agent Trujillo flinched before his whole body started, his heart pounding so rapidly, he couldn’t distinguish the individual beats. He jolted to his feet, his patent leather shoes squeaking on the concrete floor. Groaning, he pressed a palm to his forehead, as he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

“Qué? What the fuck?” He blinked, straining to see in the darkness in the small, windowless room. He glanced at his Cartier watch, the face of the timepiece easily readable despite the lack of light. Trujillo felt the heat of anger rush through his veins as he noticed an hour had gone by since he’d been in the room.

He frowned, remembering the satisfaction of placing Miranda behind bars, going back into his office, making a call and throwing the fat agent out as she brought him coffee -

“Mierda!” Trujillo crouched down to the floor, his fingers locating the sticky mess where the fallen cup of coffee had splattered. Disgustedly wiping his hand on his trousers, he stepped away from the puddle, only to feel his cell phone solidly crunch under his shoe.

“Joder!” The agent spat, bending down to find nothing left of the small device but shattered bits of glass and plastic. I have to get the hell out of here and provide an update, otherwise all this could fall apart!

The agent went to the door, jiggling the handle in fury as it refused to budge.

“Hey!” He pounded the metal surface with the flat of his hand. “Got dammit, you San Antonio assholes! Let me out of here, NOW! I’ll have your badges before -”

His rant was interrupted as the door clicked open, a powerful flashlight beam shooting directly into his eyes. Batting away the light in annoyance, it obligingly moved. Trujillo shook his head to clear the spots in his vision to reveal a trio of stern looking faces. His cheek twitched in annoyance as he faced Salgado, wearing a smug smirk and holding a hefty metal flashlight aloft. She was flanked by two men - they wore the same dark suits, had the same overbearing stance and even the same hefty build.

More CNI goons. Trujillo snorted contemptuously. They think they’re going to scare me with this crap?

“Commander Salgado.” He greeted her shortly. “I’d like you to move so I can escort my prisoner to IA headquarters.”

“Agent Trujillo.” The severe brunette returned his greeting just as curtly. “Let me present you with a warrant for your arrest.” She couldn’t stop a smile from creasing her features as she reached with her free hand into her suit pocket and handed over the paper.

Trujillo gave the document a cursory glance before he threw it to the floor. “Nice try. Now, get out of my way!”

“I’d advise you to surrender your weapon, Agent Trujillo!” Salgado’s voice hardened at the same time the agents flanking her dropped their hands under their coats. “Or my men and I will relieve you of it ourselves. We are authorized to use any and all force if necessary!”

The IA agent’s eyes flitted shiftily as he gauged his chances. “You’re bluffing, you bitch!” He bristled, his blue eyes having gone dark with rage. “You know that’s what they call you, right? Commander Bitch! A name that I think is more than fitting - gakh!”

The agent never finished his sentence as the two CNI agents moved with a speed that belied their size, which was frightening to behold. Trujillo was wheeled around, his gut pressed painfully against the table as he was handcuffed and his 9mm was removed from his holster, all in a matter of seconds.

Salgado sauntered in Trujillo’s field of vision, unable to recall any other arrest that had ultimately been this satisfying. “Now we’ll see that Internal Affairs agents are not above the law, no matter what you think, Agent Trujillo. When officers that are supposed to protect the people take matters into their own hands, well…then the CNI gets to deal with them. Call it our specialty.”

“You cocksucking whore!” Trujillo roared as he struggled against the men holding his shoulders down. “You have no proof of anything!”

All traces of mirth disappeared from the commander’s face as she slammed the flat of her palm on the table. “I have all the proof I need, agent! I have witness testimony that you intentionally poisoned Inspector Castro and arrested Agent Miranda on false charges!”

She paused for a moment, taking in Trujillo’s quick, furious pants, his red face illumined in the flashlight beam. “And I know you’re not working alone. I’ll be sure to find out and bring to justice the person who gave you those orders.”

“Like you’ll get it out of me!” The IA agent spat forcefully, the blob of saliva landing on Salgado’s cheek, marring her flawless makeup.

Deliberately, the commander retrieved a tissue from her pocket, carefully wiping away the splotch of spittle that covered her cheek. “Protest all you want, Agent Trujillo. Right now, I have agents in route to search your apartment. And we will find what we’re looking for.”

“Really?” Trujillo sneered as he continued to fight stubbornly against his captors. “You think it makes a difference if two dykes are wiped off the map?!”

“I do.” Salgado replied, deadly serious. “Agent Diego Trujillo, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, the illegal arrest and incarceration of a CNP agent, and other charges forthcoming.” The commander rattled off his rights, ignoring the eyes that bored into her, exuding pure hostility and contempt.

Salgado motioned with her head towards the exit. “Get him out of here.”

The men shuffled off, half dragging a kicking, loudly protesting Trujillo with them. Salgado sighed and sagged against the table, grateful that the first part of this ordeal was over. She forced herself to stand upright, and wrestled a neutral expression back on her face before gathering an armful of Trujillo’s files.

“Agent Naranjo!” Salgado caught Curtis’ attention as she walked out of the office. “Vamos! I need you and a few men.”

Curtis motioned to Povedilla and Quique, who quickly fell in line. “What’s going on, Commander?”

“We’ve got Trujillo in custody. Next in line is Agent Morales.” Salgado informed them as the group walked brusquely towards the holding cell. “I’m lucky that the judge I spoke to saved me a lot of back and forth paperwork. Once he heard the evidence, he not only issued a search warrant for Trujillo’s apartment, but arrest warrants as well.”

“A chance to get back at those IA assholes!” Curtis grinned widely. “I’ll take it!”

The group stopped short as the door to the holding area was opened. Several flashlight beams revealed an unlocked pair of handcuffs and an empty room.

“Mierda!” Salgado cursed. She turned to the CNP agents, giving orders. “Put out an alert on Morales. Check the trains and airports in case he tries to flee the country. What’s the status on getting power back?”

“Maybe another hour. I’ll check with Mariano.” Povedilla saluted before scurrying off.

“Muy bien.” Salgado nodded crisply before pausing. “And Inspectora Castro?”

“Word is from Don Lorenzo that they got to the hospital okay.” Curtis reported, having gone somber at the thought of what his friends were going through.

The commander saw the agent’s face fall with the words, her own expression dour. “Let’s just hope the Inspectora pulls through. Otherwise what the CNI will do any perpetrators, will be completely meaningless compared to what Agent Miranda will have in mind.”

___

Pepa pressed her palms against the edge of the windowsill and slowly leaned her head forward until it touched the cool glass. She gazed into Silvia’s room in the UCI, her lips pressed in a thin, grim line. Except for the red waves of hair that she’d carefully arranged on the pillow, her wife was almost unrecognizable under the mass of tubes, IVs and leads that crisscrossed her body. The brunette tapped her thumb restlessly against the window, impatient for the throng of nurses and specialists to stop milling around Silvia’s bed, so she could return to her rightful place at her side. Despite that, Pepa was grateful that Eva, the dark-haired, compassionate ER nurse that had attended to her when she was shot, was amongst those surrounding her redhead. Pepa trusted her and knew that Silvia did as well.

The agent didn’t look up at familiar footsteps until she felt a touch to her shoulder. She blinked, her weary eyes taking in Dr. Gonzalez’s tall frame, now dressed in dark blue scrubs and a lab coat. The physician’s face was carefully guarded, making Pepa’s heartrate accelerate.

“Hola, Dr. Gonzalez.” Pepa acknowledged softly, her voice husky from a combination of tears and exhaustion. She motioned towards the throng surrounding Silvia. “Can you tell Eva to get everyone out so I can be with my wife?”

“Un momento, Pepa.” He gently restrained her, his hand dropping to her arm. “I wanted to let you know that you and I, as well as Don Lorenzo and Paco, all tested negative for any poisons resembling cyanide or any other toxins. Whatever poisoned Silvia is not contagious. Our tox screens were clean.” His mouth quirked into a small smile. “I appreciate you submitting for tests, in the interest of public health.”

Pepa automatically returned the gesture, even if the last thing she was in the mood for was irony. “Well, you didn’t give me much of a choice.” She displayed her right forearm, revealing a small bandage and cotton ball over an injection site. “Paco practically wrestled me down for a blood sample and you kept us in isolation, instead of letting me go with Silvia.”

“I must say, you have the most impressive collection of profanity I’ve witnessed - and I’ve heard a lot in 30 years in the ER!”

“Sí. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“It’s understandable.” But, while we’re waiting on Eva -” he gestured to Pepa’s disheveled appearance. Her uniform that she had worn so proudly a few hours ago, was wrinkled, smeared with smudges of dirt and was still damp from the rain. “I’m not finished examining you.”

“I’m fine.” Pepa crossed her arms defiantly.

The doctor sighed. Damn, Silvia was right! She is married to the worst patient in the world! “Pepa, you took a serious beating and we need to check you for a concussion.” He gestured to her left hand. “That middle finger is probably cracked and could be broken.”

Aggravated, Pepa stuffed the injured hand in her pocket, biting the inside of her lip as the pain from the motion radiated up her arm. “If you think I’m letting Silvia out of my sight -”

“Agent Miranda, por favor…” Dr. Gonzalez held up a hand in a placating gesture. “Humor me for a few minutes? For Silvia’s sake?”

Pepa finally let a tiny smile cross her face. “Fine. If you’re going to play that card.”

The agent stood still for a few minutes, allowing the doctor to shine a penlight in her eyes and carefully prod her sore side, which was now a mottled collection of purple, yellow and blue bruising.

“You’re lucky your ribs weren’t fractured again.” Dr. Gonzalez commented as he smoothed down the shirt of Pepa’s uniform. “And I think your stubbornness alone prevented you from getting a concussion.”

He retrieved a small splint from a nearby supply cart and carefully splinted the injured finger. “There. That should do for now until we can x-ray that later.”

The physician paused, meeting Pepa’s chocolate brown eyes directly. “Pepa, I need to talk to you about your wife.”

“Vale.” The brunette swallowed, trying her best to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to hear.

Dr. Gonzalez checked his watch. “Her lab results should get to me any minute. We’re one of the few hospitals in Madrid that can get results for cyanide poisoning in a few hours instead of days or weeks.” He sighed heavily, pausing. “As you can see, we were able to intubate Silvia. She’s on a ventilator so we can monitor her oxygen intake.”

Pepa could only nod, as she looked through the window again, seeing Eva gently pull a sheet up to Silvia’s chest, carefully avoiding detaching or tangling any wires. The sight of the tube down Silvia’s throat made her shiver deep in her gut. It scared her to the core that her wife’s life was dependent on the machines and monitors that surrounded her.

“But she hasn’t woken up.” Pepa felt her chest tighten at her own words. “She’s comatose, right?”

“Sí, that’s true. But -”

“But what?” Pepa interrupted, scoffing. “I’m supposed to feel lucky? Because I’m not in Silvia’s place, or that I didn’t get poisoned from skin on skin contact when she kissed me?”

“Pepa, you know I’m not saying that -”

“Even if I had gotten sick, that would have been fine with me.”

“Pepa…” The ER doctor reached again to touch the agent’s shoulder but was shrugged away.

“If Silvia doesn’t survive this…” Pepa managed to swallow as the sight of Silvia blurred through her tears. “No lo se. I’d consider eating my gun, rather than live without her.”

The doctor’s eyes widened, truly concerned. “Pepa, I should call your precinct’s psychiatrist. A Dr. Felix, correct?”

The brunette laughed bitterly as she met the doctor’s worried gaze directly. “I’m not crazy, Dr. Gonzalez. I’m in love. Truly in love.”

She looked towards Silvia again, seeing the machine that kept her alive, pumping in air that moved her chest up and down in a rhythm so perfect, it was eerie.

“Haven’t you ever been in love like that? It’s like finding the other half of yourself. That other piece of you that you think about almost every waking moment - you fight for it, desire it, dream about it, until you almost can’t stand it anymore. And sometimes you think - no, you know - that it’s impossible. You’ll never be that happy. And then you find her. And you can’t imagine existing, breathing, without her.”

The doctor looked down at his sneakers, before admitting a truth to himself that he rarely let surface.

“Sí. I do know, Pepa.” He rubbed the spot on his ring finger where a metal band used to be. It had been more than a decade since he’d worn one. “A long time ago.”

He looked up at the agent, the lines on his face making him seem sad and haggard. “And I couldn’t save her when cancer took her from me. That’s why I’ve never remarried. It really is true that the oldest wounds take the longest to heal.”

The agent gazed into the doctor’s intense blue eyes, realizing a kindred spirit. “Lo siento, Esteban.” Her lips lifted in an apologetic half smile. “Can I please call you by your first name, especially after all you’ve done for Silvia?”

“It would be an honor.”

The squeaking of sneakers on the freshly polished linoleum made both of them turn. “Dr. Gonzales!” A young, baby-faced lab technician ran up to them with a folder in his hand. “You said you wanted these results right away.”

“Gracias.” The physician was already studying the contents of the folder as he dismissed the man. He frowned before extracting a photo and handing it to Pepa. “This was found attached to the inside forearm of Silvia’s lab coat.”

Pepa’s brows furrowed as she studied the object, which looked like a tiny piece of clear plastic, less than half a centimeter square. “What the hell is it?”

“From what the lab can tell, it’s some kind of prototype for a polymer patch. Testing revealed trace elements of cyanide found on it.”

“And?” Pepa’s head was spinning at the implications.

“From these results, what poisoned Silvia is a type of cyanide that exists in a solid crystal sodium form. It was manufactured as this cyanide patch that was attached to Silvia’s lab coat and got absorbed through contact with the skin.”

“Attached to clothing…” The agent’s face hardened as she recalled Silvia telling her how Trujillo had been in the lab right when she’d walked in. “Silvia put on her lab coat right before we left the room. She collapsed right after.”

“Just like what could have been done with Senator Duarte.” Dr. Gonzalez concurred. “But I went through that case file. Nothing was found in Duarte’s personal effects.”

“Believe me, if someone poisoned Duarte this way, then someone could have found a way to get rid of the evidence in all the chaos that followed.” Pepa growled.

The physician scratched at the white bristles on his cheek, as he sighed raggedly. “What the lab results are confirming is what Silvia and I both suspected since we started working the case. This is a genetically altered mutation of a cyanide compound. I’m almost positive looking at these lab results that Silvia and Duarte were poisoned with this same compound. Silvia was given a smaller dose than Duarte, which is why I believe she’s held on.”

“These bastards poisoned her since she was getting too close to the truth.” Pepa dug her nails into her palms, leaving deep, painful indentations. “To get us both off the case.”

The brunette’s gaze returned to her wife’s still form, feeling her insides twist even tighter. It hurt to breathe, hurt to think. Hurt to even exist, when the one she loved was so helpless. It was like having her soul shredded to pieces. She barely heard Dr. Gonzalez as he spoke.

“With Silvia, we’ve tried all the standard treatments of intravenous amyl nitrite, sodium nitrite, and a few other things. Nothing has worked. I think that’s why this cyanide was genetically engineered. Not just to kill, which it does well enough, but to resist all attempts at treatment. And then once the victim is gone, the compound somehow self destructs, making it almost impossible to trace.”

Pepa spoke, her voice was an unrecognizable, hollow rasp. “Are you saying that Silvia’s going to die?”

Dr. Gonzalez groaned internally, recalling the promise he’d made long ago to himself, when he’d taken the Hippocratic Oath - to never hide the truth from his patients or their loved ones. But it was a double-edged sword, which at these times, made his job the worst in the world.

“Silvia’s very weak. She could go into cardiac or respiratory arrest again. If we don’t get the specific antidote, I don’t think she’ll survive.”

The words had no sooner left his mouth, as Pepa turned and ran in a full on sprint down the hallway.

“Pepa!” Dr. Gonzales called out, but it was no use. She had disappeared.

___

Trujillo pulled tightly at the handcuff that bound his right arm to the table in the interrogation room, even if he knew it was a useless endeavor. The metal bindings rattled loudly in protest, but refused to budge. He sighed exasperatedly, affecting a look of boredom mixed with hostility, as he stared at his own reflection in the two-way mirror.

“Vamos, you CNI fuckers!” He called out, knowing that several agents were listening on the other side. “You’ve had your fun, keeping me here. You know I’m not going to say anything! I know all the tricks of the interrogation game better than you do!”

Silence greeted the IA agent, as he leaned back in his chair, broodingly studying the white walls that surrounded him. Several more minutes passed before the door cracked open, revealing Salgado as she leaned casually against the doorframe.

“Ah, it’s my favorite bitch!” Trujillo sneered as he observed the commander. “What, did you get tired of waiting and decide to play 20 questions again?”

“Certainly not.” Salgado answered, as she looked squarely at her suspect. “Even though we tried, I knew you wouldn’t answer questions from me or any other CNI agent.”

“That’s because this is all an illegal maneuver - a crock of shit!” The balding agent placed his forearms on the table, leaning forward as he interlacing his fingers, in a suave gesture of confident authority. “You think I don’t know how you operate?”

Salgado’s face went still and cold. “No, I don’t think you do, agent! You do realize that you are in the custody of CNI - the Centro Nacional de Inteligencia. We are the ones who do covert ops in this country. Missions that are so classified, even the Prime Minister doesn’t have all the details. We carry out assassinations, avert catastrophic disasters - anything to protect the national security of Spain! You are under a different set of rules here!”

“Bullshit!” Trujillo snorted. “You people are all talk but no action! What are you going to do, knock me around a bit? Threats don’t work with me!”

A predatory glint appeared in the commander’s eyes. “No. I called for the one person you will answer to.”

The door was kicked the rest of the way open as Pepa strode in, her motions fueled by fury and a deadly purpose. Her face was set in a dangerous, determined mask as her dark tresses whipped behind her and her eyes burned with an intense rage. Without hesitation, she used her boot to shove Trujillo and his chair away from the table. In a swift motion, her other foot landed solidly on his crotch.

Trujillo’s eyes bulged out in agony, as a strangled whimper escaped from his lips. He leaned forward to grasp between his legs as much as his restraints allowed, all but for a second before Pepa jerked him back by the collar and slammed the side of his head on the table.

“These steel toed boots are really quite useful with this new uniform!” The brunette growled in her adversary’s ear. “Now, I will continue to use them on every single body part of yours until you tell me where the antidote is!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” The IA agent’s voice came out in a stifled, high-pitched squeak.

“I know you were hired to poison Silvia with that cyanide patch. I know you were in her lab gathering her evidence and had the opportunity and the means to do it!” Pepa was shaking, allowing the full force of her anger to surface.

“Speak for yourself! You’re fucking crazy!” Trujillo yelled.

In response, Pepa lifted the agent’s body up before slamming his head back down. She bore down on him, leaning her weight across his shoulders so he was unable to move.

“Do you remember when I said I’d break your neck with my bare hands? I’ve changed my mind.” The brunette shifted, grasping Trujillo’s left wrist in a powerful hold. “One bone at a time will be so much more satisfying!”

“Get this puta off me!” Trujillo twisted his neck around, calling out to Salgado.

The commander merely shrugged, indifferent to the scene playing out in front of her. “As I said, we are under a set of different rules here.”

“Where is the antidote?” Pepa demanded, her breath coming in quick pants. “A modified cyanide poison like that doesn’t come off the street. And you wouldn’t handle something that dangerous without insurance.”

Gritting his teeth, Trujillo exhaled an explosive laugh that bordered on hysteria. “Fuck you, you disgusting dyke!”

The laugh turned into a piercing shriek as Pepa took ahold of his pinky finger and snapped it cleanly, the sound reverberating off the walls.

“That’s one!” Pepa growled. “There’s about two hundred and six bones to go, give or take! Now you listen to me, you piece of shit! My wife is dying! Where is that antidote? Dónde?!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Trujillo roared, trying to keep his heaving stomach in check as spittle flew across the table. “It’s too late! Your little cunt’s going to die anyway, with that dose I gave her!”

Pepa faltered for a second as her breath caught in her throat, both at the admission and the fact that Silvia was out of time.

Despite the black dots that were crowding his vision, the IA agent managed to laugh again as he saw the undisguised pain flicker across the brunette’s face.

“My only regret is that I was only paid to get her out of the way.” Trujillo whispered cruelly, his gaze holding on Pepa’s terrified expression. “If I’d had the time, I would have tied her down and fucked her senseless until she bled and begged me for mercy. A nice piece of ass like that! It’s too bad she’s wasted on you, Miranda!”

Pepa’s look instantly transformed to one of merciless rage, as she bent Trujillo’s left arm back at an impossible angle, using all her strength to break the bones in the limb. Heedless of the screams that rang in her ears, she twisted it again, feeling the tendons and soft muscle rip under the skin.

“This is your last chance before I rip your fucking arm off and beat you within an inch of your life!” Pepa’s yell sounded above Trujillo’s shrieks of pain. “Where is it?!”

“Un - under the floor!” The IA agent relented, his lip bloody from where he’d bitten into it by reflex. “In my apartment! In a safe!”

“What’s the combination?” Pepa pressed. “Don’t you dare fucking lie to me!”

“One -” Trujillo groaned as he tried not lose consciousness. “One six seven, nine four five!”

“Gracias.”

With the terse thanks, Pepa dropped the man face down on the table, stomping towards the door. She took no heed of Salgado’s bare nod of acknowledgement or Trujillo’s continued moans as she reached for her cell phone.

“You think this is over?”

Pepa’s head whipped around as she heard Trujillo’s voice, her finger on a speed dial button. Her heart continued to pound as she watched the IA agent smile nastily, despite his left arm hanging brokenly at his side. Dios! A shiver chased down her spine. He’s not just a bigot or an assassin, he’s completely insane!

Trujillo spat on the table, blood drops dotting the metal surface. “There are more than us than you can ever dream of. More than you can take, Agent Miranda or Commander Salgado. We won’t stop.”

Swallowing, Pepa exited the room, slamming the door on the demented face whose eyes bored into her. She took a quick breath before jamming the button on her speed dial, wiping the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand.

“Gonzalo.” The brunette addressed her fellow agent. “You’re still at Trujillo’s apartment, sí?” She quickly gave him the location of the safe, rattling off the combination. “I’m five minutes away. I’ll meet you there.”

“Wait.” Salgado laid a hand on her forearm just as she was about to bolt. “I believe this is yours. We found it when we confiscated the contents of Trujillo’s office.” She stepped to a nearby table, retrieving Pepa’s gun and holster and handing it over.

“Gracias.” Pepa slipped the familiar holster on. “And Trujillo?”

“Say no more, Miranda. We’ll handle him and further interrogations. With that confession, he won’t be leaving custody anytime soon.”

“I only did that for Silvia.” Pepa whispered, her eyes taking on a haunted look. “I’m not proud of it. But if it saves her life, I’ll accept any disciplinary measures. I’ll hand in my badge if I have to.”

“Let’s leave that for another time, agent.” Salgado gave her a rare comforting pat on the shoulder, before the agent turned and ran down the corridor.

Salgado blinked back tears, as she watched Pepa’s retreating form. Her thoughts went to Paco and the endearing, bumbling advances he’d made towards her, now that they had admitted their feelings for one another. The commander knew with certainly that if she had been in the tall brunette’s situation, she would have gone to the same extreme measures to protect the one she loved.

“Good luck, Pepa.” Salgado murmured. “May you and Silvia see this nightmare end soon.”